"Then serve him as a slave, fully," said Janice.
"I will," said Tende.
The girls had spoken in Gorean. Kisu had asked that I have Janice and Alice help Tende with the language. I had complied. In the several weeks of our trip she had become reasonably fluent. Tende was an intelligent woman. Kisu, too, of course, profited from these lessons. Indeed, perhaps it was partly from his own interest that he insisted on these instructions for Tende. But, too, doubtless, he thought it amusing that Tende, who had once been so proud, be forced under his will to acquire a new language. For my part, I was pleased at both Kisu's and Tende's growth in Gorean. Considering Ayari and myself, and Alice and Janice, it was clearly the most sensible choice for a common medium of communication.
Janice then crawled back to my side.
"He did not forget to tie me," said Alice. She knelt a few feet from us, her hands bound behind her, a line running from her bound wrists to the same tree to which Tende was tethered.
"Oh, be quiet, Bound Slave," said Janice.
"Untie me, Master," begged Alice. "Let me serve you."
"I will serve him," said Janice, not pleasantly.
"Let me serve you, Master," begged Alice.
"Be quiet," said Janice, "or I will scratch your eyes out!"
"If I were not bound," said Alice, "I would claw you to pieces!"
One of the aspects of the mastery, inconvenient at times, though it can be borne, is the competition among girls for the attentions of the master. Indeed, some masters keep more than one girl, just for this purpose, not merely to lessen the labors of each, but that each may, in the intensity of their rivalry, strive to please him more than the other. Each wishes, of course, to undermine the position of the other and to become the favorite. From the girl's point of view there are few slaves who would not rather do double the labor and be the only wench in the master's compartments. To be sure, the loser in such a competition generally becomes the master's work slave and the winner his pleasure slave. My own view on the matter, for what it is worth, is that a pleasure slave becomes even more marvelous when she is forced to function also as a work slave. The girl who launders, cleans and cooks for a master knows well she is owned. In my own house I see that my favorite pleasure slaves, girls such as lovely, dark-haired Vella, perform their full share or, if I please, much more than their full share of servile labors. It is not unusual to see her in a brief work tunic, sleeveless and white, sweating over the laundry tubs or, on her hands and knees, naked, scrubbing the corridors in chains. I recalled that she had upon occasion displeased me. Once a guest at first refused to believe that the lovely wench in pleasure silk, a chain on her slave bracelets run to a ring on her serving collar, who served his viands at a feast was the same girl whom he had spurned to one side with his foot that afternoon in a corridor. I stripped her and put her on her hands and knees and he saw then that it was she. Even more astonished was he when I had her dance for him and the other guests. "You let such a superb slave scrub in your corridors," he asked. "Yes," I said. "Why?" he asked. "Because it pleases me," I told him.
"Master!" begged Alice.
"Be quiet!" said Janice.
Whereas rivalries among men can be serious and dangerous, the most that rivalries among slave girls can be is petty and vicious; that is to be expected; they are, after all, only small, lovely animals.
"I can please you more than she," said Alice.
"No, you cannot," said Janice.
"I can!" insisted Alice.
"No!" said Janice. Then she smiled. "If you are so pleasing," she said, "then why is it that it is you who are trussed and tethered like a domestic tarsk at the slave post and it is I who lie free by my master's side?"
Alice fought her bonds, and wept. Janice laughed.
"Do you think you are better than she?" I asked Janice.
"Am I not, Master?" she inquired.
"No," I said.
I then took a line and tied Janice's hands behind her back and threw her to her side at the slave post. By the free end of the line I tethered her, like Alice, to the post.
"Now see what you have done!" said Janice to Alice. "Now you have had us both tied!"
Alice did not seem displeased.
"Go to sleep now, Slaves," I told them.
"Yes, Master," said Alice.
"Yes, Master," said Janice, angrily.
"Are you angry?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said, quickly. "Please do not beat me."
"Slave," said Alice.
"Yes, slave," said Janice.
"I am a better slave than you," said Alice.
"No, you are not!" said Janice.
"Go to sleep," I said.
"Yes, Master," said Alice.
"Yes, Master," said Janice.
36
Wreckage; Again We Move Upriver
"There," said Ayari, pointing.
We put down the canoe we were carrying past the hurtling cataract.
We saw, shattered on rocks, the stern quarter of a river galley. Jagged planks, dry and hot, thrust up in the sunlight, and, lower, wedged in, pressed between rocks, wet and black, water foaming about it, was the stern itself with its splintered, side-hung rudder.
I waded out to it. There was nothing left in the wreckage.
"It could have been washed downriver for pasangs," said Ayari.
I nodded. Once before, long ago, we had recovered evidence of what had seemed to be another mishap on the river, a chest or crate of trade goods. We had managed to put them to good use. We had not seen wreckage, however. The chest, not lashed down properly, might have been jolted or washed overboard. Too, there might have been a capsizing. We had not seen wreckage, however. Shaba had not, at that time, as far as we knew, lost a galley.
I put my shoulder against the wreckage. I then put my back against it. I freed it, and, twisting, it plunged away, westward, downriver.
I returned to the rocks of the shore. Shaba now had but two galleys.
"It was wise of you to free it," said Kisu. He looked about. "The less evidence there is of strangers on the river the safer we shall all be."
I looked about, too, at the jungles. They seemed quiet, "Yes," I said. "But I would have freed it anyway."
"Why?" asked Kisu.
"It is what is left of a ship," I said. "It should be free."
How could I tell Kisu, who was of the land, of the feeling, of those who had known the waves of Thassa?
"You will not free me, will you, Master?" asked Janice.
"Kneel," I said.
She knelt.
"You are a woman," I said. "You will be kept as a slave." "Yes, Master," she said.
"Now pick up your burden," I said. She picked up her burden and held it on her head, with her two hands. "Straighten your back," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I then, with Ayari and Kisu, lifted the canoe again, and again we moved upriver.
37
We Do Not Trade Tende
The chief, on his small stool, pointed at Tende. Kisu lifted beads before him, of purple glass, strung on wire. The chief shook his head, vigorously. He pointed again at Tende.
Tende knelt beside Kisu, her hands tied behind her back. In the weeks since her conversation with Janice she had become to him a superb love slave. This is hard for a woman to conceal. The chief's eyes glistened as he looked upon her.
Kisu shook his head, negatively.
In spite of the fact that Tende had now become to Kisu a superb love slave, he still kept her under the strictest security. Often she cried about this, but he was unrelenting. "I love you, Master," she would weep. "I love you!" But he continued to treat her unremittingly with the discipline and harshness commonly accorded a fresh capture, not with the authority and rough affection commonly given to a girl who is so enamored of her master that she can scarcely be beaten from his feet with whips. She would cry alone at night, secured to the slave post, until Kisu, by a word, or kick or blow, would silence her.
The chief again pointed at Tende.
Kisu again shook his head negatively.