I looked at him.
“I am a Ubar,” he said.
“I do not understand,” I said.
“What is it to me,” he asked, “if she should, in months, of her own accord, come to understand her brand, her silk and her collar. What is it to me, if she should, in months, of her own accord, choose to fasten a talender in her hair?” I regarded him.
“Do you truly think,” he asked, “that I, Marlenus of Ar, will wait for En’Kara.” “I suppose not,” I said.
“Other men,” said Marlenus, “might be content to wait for the breezes of En’Kara to loosen the ice, to soften it and let the river run unimprisoned.” I looked into his eyes.
“In owning a woman,” said Marlenus, “as in the game, one must seize the initiative. One must force through an attack that is overwhelming and shattering. She must be crushed, devastated.” “Mastered?” I asked.
“Utterly,” he said.
Marlenus played a savage game. I did not envy Verna. She was totally unsuspecting.
There was a shallow bowl of flowers, scarlet, large-budded, five-petaled flaminiums, on the small, low table between us.
He reached out with his large hand and took one of the flowers.
He held it in the palm of his hand. His hand began to close.
“If you were this flower,” asked Marlenus, “and you could speak, what would you do?” “I suppose,” I said, “if I were such a flower, I would beg for mercy.” “Yes,” said Marlenus.
“Verna,” I said, “Is strong willed. She is extremely proud, extremely intelligent.” “Excellent,” said Marlenus.
His hand closed more on the flower.
“Such women,” said Marlenus, “ once conquered, make the most abject and superb slaves.” “I have heard this,” I said.
Incidentally, brilliant and imaginative women, particularly if beautiful and high-born, are avidly sought in Gorean slave markets. High intelligence, and imagination, perhaps interestingly from the point of view of a man of Earth, are highly prized in women by Gorean men. Indeed, a woman who is known to be intelligent and imaginative will bring a much higher price than some duller, but more beautiful, sister in bondage. Goreans, unlike many men of Earth, have very little interest in stupid women. The ideal candidate, for the Gorean slavers snare is a highly intelligent, beautiful, imaginative woman, one who is strong willed, proud and free. It is such women that Goreans enjoy making slaves. Perhaps, surprisingly, once conquered, once they have learned their brand, once they have learned their collar and silk, they make the most helpless, the most incredibly delicious slaves.
“Suppose,” I said to Marlenus, “the flower does not beg for mercy.” “Then,” said he, beginning to close his fist on the flower, “it is destroyed.” “You play a savage game,” said I, “Marlenus.” He dropped the flower back into the shallow bowl, among other, unthreatened, buds.
“I am a Ubar,” he said.
Marlenus would not wait for the ice in the river to melt. He was a Ubar. He would shatter it.
Verna was totally unsuspecting.
“I will tell her,” said Marlenus, “when to put a talender in her hair.” I nodded. Verna’s conquest would be total. She would be made his, utterly. “When does you game begin?” I asked Marlenus.
“It has already begun,” said Marlenus.
“How is that?’ I asked.
“She will attempt to escape tonight,” said Marlenus.
I regarded him, puzzled.
“Surely, together,” he smiled, “we have motivated such an attempt?” It was true. I doubted that Verna, unless conquered, would willingly endure another examination of the sort to which we had casually subjected her this evening, the rather detailed appraisal of a slave girl by masters.
“Did you note,” asked Marlenus, “how deferentially she served us the last cup of wine?” I smiled. “Yes,” I said. “It was served almost as if a slave girl served it.” “It was her attempt,” said Marlenus, “to pretend to be a slave. She served it as she thinks slave girls serve.” He smiled. “Later,” he said, “when she knows herself owned, she will serve, and naturally, as a slave girl serves.” I supposed it was true. The true slave girl knows that she is owned. This makes a difference in how she performs many tasks. Her body, in almost all of its movements, will betray her bondage. It is difficult for a free woman to imitate the actions of a slave girl. She does not know truly what it is to be slave. She has never been taught. She has not been slave. Similarly it is difficult for a slave girl to imitate the actions of a free woman. Knowing that she is, in actuality, owned, it is very difficult for her to act as though she were free. She is frightened to do so. Sometimes slavers use these differences to separate the two categories of Gorean female. Sometimes, when a city is being sacked, high-born free women, fearful of falling into the hands of chieftains of the enemy, have themselves branded and collared, and don slave tunics, and mix with their own slave girls, to prevent their identity from being known. Such high-born women may, by a practiced eye, be detected among true slave girls. They are then handed over to chieftains, for use in the public humiliation ceremonies to be inflicted upon the conquered city, for public rebranding and recollaring, and subsequent public distribution to high officers. The test may be as simple as removing a girl’s tunic and telling her to walk across a room. It may be as simple as telling her to present her lips to those if a warrior. Similarly, slave girls, attempting to escape, can be separated out from free women, even when all are veiled and wear the robes of concealment. Again, the tests may be simple. Once, in Ko-ro-ba, I saw a slaver, before a magistrate, distinguish such a girl, not even one of his own, from eleven free women. Each, in turn, was asked to pour him a cup of wine, and then withdraw, nothing more. At the end, the slaver rose to his feet and pointed to one of the women. “No!” she had cried. “I am free!” officers of the court, by order of the magistrate, removed her garments. If she were free, the slaver would be impaled. When her last garment had been torn away, there was applause in the court. The girl stood there. On her thigh was the brand. She was braceleted and leashed, and given to the slaver. He led her, weeping, away to his slave chain.
“She attempted to serve as a slave,” said Marlenus, “to put us off our guard.” “Then you think,” I asked, “that tonight she will attempt an escape?” “Of course,” said Marlenus. “And I expect that by now she has left the camp.” I looked at him, astonished.
“I gave orders for her departure not to be noticed,” smiled Marlenus. “It is dark,” I said. “She will have a long start.” “We can get her back when we wish,” he said. “I have arranged for the girls of Hura, more than a hundred of them, to be in the forests about the camp. If they do not pick her up, I shall go forth in a day or so and retrieve her myself.” “You seem confident,” I said.
“There is little possibility of losing her,” said Marlenus. “I had her bedding, a blanket changed this morning. She thinks that she washed her blanket but I substituted another, an identical one from another girl.” “Tonight,” I said, “she would not have slept on the cleaned blanket.” “Of course not,” said Marlenus.
“And,” I said, “in Laura there are trained sleen.”
“Yes,” said Marlenus. “And given the scent of her blanket there will not be difficulty in picking her up, even if we begin to search days from now.” The sleen is Gor’s most perfect hunter.
“Even,” said Marlenus, “if we did not have the blanket the smell of the shelter in which she slept last night should be sufficient for the sleen.” “You are thorough,” I said.
“More thorough than you understand,” smiled Marlenus. He went to a heavy chest at the side of the room and, with a key hung at his belt, unlocked it. He drew from it some bits of scarlet slave silk. “I had her put these on yesterday,” he said. He grinned. “One of my men, unknown to her, pretended to be a merchant, arrived in the camp. He pretended he wished me to buy a consignment of pleasure silk for use in my pleasure gardens. He seemed anxious that I buy. He begged that Verna, who stood nearby, be permitted to display the product, so that I might better judge its sheen and quality. I consented and ordered her to do so. I pretended to purchase several rolls. When she removed the silks we put them to one side, as though for washing.” He laughed. “Of course,” he said, “when she was gone I locked them in the chest.” I thought of the fierce sleen, with their fangs and blazing eyes, long-bodied, six-legged, like a furred lizard.