My former master thrust his collar, the chain attached, higher on my neck, closer to the chin. He had its key in hand. My new master then, below the former collar, closed his own about my neck. I was now double collared. My former master then removed his collar, with the chain, from my neck. I had not been without a collar, even for an instant.
My new master then turned about, with a swirl of those long robes, and began to make his way across the square. I hurried after him, heeling him. I was naked, of course. I had removed the ta-teera for my dance, and had not put it back on. My new master had bought me, not the ta-teera. That belonged to the musician, my former master. A new girl would presumably wear it soon, as some, it seemed, had before me. I hoped that my new master would permit me clothing, at least in public. Even the tiny slave tunics and the scandalous ta-teerae are precious to a girl. Too, she is not insensible of how they show off her charms.
"May I speak, Master?" I called after him, hurrying behind him.
"Yes," he said.
"May I inquire the name of my master?" I asked.
"You will learn it soon enough," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said. It was doubtless on my collar, but, obviously, without a mirror, I could not read the collar where it was locked on my neck. Too, even had I had a mirror, I could not read.
He walked rapidly, purposefully.
He had paid five silver tarsks for me. That was a great deal of money. My former master would have no difficulty getting another girl, or more than one, for such an amount.
"Master paid a great deal of money for me," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Am I worth so much?" I asked.
"I think so," he said.
"May I inquire for what purpose Master has purchased me," I asked.
"You will learn soon enough," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Curiosity is not becoming in a kajira," he reminded me.
"Yes, Master," I said, frightened. But he did not turn about to strike me, or discipline me.
I hurried along behind him. it was now late in the afternoon. The square was not crowded now. The public places and baths would soon be closed. I saw more men, some with clients in their train, leaving the square. I turned about, briefly. The square was very beautiful, even at this time of day. I did not see my former master. He had apparently left the square. I then turned about, again, and hurried even more rapidly after my new master. I did not want to lag too far behind, outside the normal heeling distance.
18 The Grating; The Garments
"Over the grating, on the walkway," said the man.
I dreaded leaving the tavern in this fashion.
One of the men patted me on the behind. "Do not be afraid," he said. "They will soon be shipped out, to make room for others."
The sunken, iron-walled pits were below the level of the basement, in which my own cell was. They were covered with locked gratings. My cell was not a kennel, but a cell. It was very well appointed, as cells for slave girls go. I could not stand fully upright in it, and I must leave it through a small gate, on my hands and knees, or belly, but it was large enough to move about in, and it was floored with carpet. In it, too, were furs. I had water and wastes" bucket. Cushions had been permitted me, an incredible luxury. To be sure, I was sometimes ordered to kneel upon one, or another of them, usually while receiving instructions. In this cell, too, there was a mirror. Too, there were various tiny boxes, containing jewelry and cosmetics. There was also a trunk, for silks. I might prepare myself here for the floor, or for the dance. There was even a lamp outside the cell, affording light, when the men saw fit to have it lit. sometimes, before fellows were brought past the cell, bound or chained, thence to be incarcerated in one of the pits, I would be instructed to lie seductively on the furs and cushions. At such times I was sometimes given chocolates to eat. "Let them have something pleasant to remember," had said one of the fellows, at one of these times. "We would not want them to forget you," had said another. I hastened across the grating. I heard howls of rage from beneath me. A hand reached up, grasping for me, through the grating. One of the men with me kicked it away from me. Its fist clenched, helplessly, in fury. I was then over the grating.
"Your garments for the afternoon," said one of the fellows behind me, "are in the back hall, near the back entrance."
When I was ready to leave the tavern one of the men would check the alley, to make certain that my departure would be unnoticed.
19 The Streets of Argentum; The Belly Chain and Disk
"Sir," I said, "forgive me for daring to speak to you, but only the kindness of your countenance encourages my audacity."
"Lady?" he inquired.
"I am in desperate straits," I whispered piteously.
"You are a beggar?" he asked.
I put down my head, as though in shame.
"Forgive me, Lady," he said. "These are hard times."
I looked up, my eyes over the veil. "You are understanding," I whispered. "I was rude," he said. "I am sorry."
"One such as you could not be rude," I said, half weeping. "Clearly, too, you are kind, and noble." He was also large and strong.
"May I be of aid to you?" he asked.
I turned half away from him, as though in confusion and shame. I had been taught to do such things. The men of my master had rehearsed them muchly with me. "Please," he said.
"I should not have bothered you," I whispered.
"Perhaps you need money," he said. "I am not a rich man but I have a little." "Better death in the streets, or a collar, than that I should so demean myself, and my station, as to avail myself of your generosity."
"Are you hungry?" he asked."Yes," I said.
"Your robes, though worn and shabby, are well kept," he said.
"I am of humble caste," I said. It made me nervous, of course, to say such things. For a slave to claim caste is a serious matter. Similarly, it would not be wise for her to be caught in the garments of a free woman. That, too, is a terribly serious offense.
"What is your caste?" he asked.
His caste, as I could see from his garments, was that of the metal workers. "Yours," I said, "That of the metal workers."
"We share caste," he said. "Too," he laughed, "I may remind you that that is my humble caste. Where would the dwellers of the cities be without us?" this was a way of saying, in the parlance of the caste, that the utilities and workings of metal were essential for a high civilization. Then he looked at me kindly, and spoke seriously. "You should not have hesitated for a moment to speak to me." "You are kind," I said. To be sure, much charity, and fraternal organizations, and evening outings, and such, are organized on caste lines. Caste is extremely important to most Goreans, even when they do not all practice the traditional crafts of their caste. It is one of the «nationalities» of the Gorean, so to speak. Other common "nationalities," so to speak, are membership in a kinship organization, such as a clan, or phratry, a group of clans, or a larger grouping yet, a tribe or analogous to a tribe, a group of phratries, and a pledged allegiance to a Home Stone, usually that of a village, town or city. It seems that in the distant past of Gor, these kinship allegiances were, in effect, political allegiances, as life became more complex, and populations more mobile, became separated. Kinship structures do not now figure strongly in Gorean public life, although in some cities divisions of the electorate, those free citizens entitled to participate in referenda, and such, remain based on them.