"Yes,” she smiled, ruefully.
"Your Gorean is coming along well,” he said.
"When an error in diction or grammar brings a stroke of the switch, one learns quickly and well,” she said.
"Surely,” she said, “if the slave has the master's permission, she might touch weapons?"
"Such permission is seldom granted,” he said.
"I might bear many arrows,” she said, “all that remain here."
"You might be slain on Gor,” said he, “to be discovered so, touching a weapon."
"We are not now on Gor,” she said.
"The men of Peisistratus are Gorean,” he said. “And there might be others."
"If it were clear I were no more than a pack beast,” she said, “who might object?"
"Perhaps none,” mused Cabot.
"And might they not be pleased, to see me helplessly burdened?"
"It pleases many to see a beautiful slave laboring,” said Cabot.
"How might a kaiila serve Master in such a situation?” she asked.
"You are a clever slave,” he grinned.
"May not a slave's question be answered?” she inquired.
"The arrows, bundled, would be upon its back, and the beast itself might not stray, being on its tether."
"Surely a slave,” she said, “might be so burdened?"
"And tethered?"
"Perhaps,” she said.
"But you are not a kaiila, pretty Lita,” said Cabot. “You have hands, small, pretty hands, with small, lovely fingers."
"Yes,” she said, “I have hands, but they may easily be made helpless."
He regarded her suddenly, sharply.
"As a slave,” she said, “I am no stranger to bonds, and have I not been helpless many times, while my Master, with his patience, and skills, worked his will upon me, forcing me, whether I willed it or not, to endure ecstasies, and then ecstasies beyond ecstasies?"
"Such things may be done to a slave,” he said.
"And are done to them!” she said.
"Of course,” he said.
"And our will means nothing!"
"True,” he said.
"And what Master may not understand,” she said, “is that we wish to be choiceless. We want our will to mean nothing."
Cabot was silent.
"Our bondage is a way of life,” she said. “We want to belong, to be owned, to kneel, to submit, to serve, wholly and helplessly. Our servitude, our submission, our categorical surrender, our helplessness, is important to us. We love being what we are. Our brands, our collars, are precious to us. Our bondage is our freedom, our servitude our liberty."
"I cannot understand this,” he said.
"Master is not a woman,” she said.
"You must remain here, to care for Lord Arcesilaus,” said Cabot.
This remark was met with a roar of fury from the back of the cave, and the gigantic, wounded Kur struggled to one elbow on the stone. Its eyes were blazing. The fangs at the right side of the jaw were visible. The nostrils were distended, the ears laid back. There was moisture about the visible fangs, and the lips.
"Master forgot to turn off the translator,” observed the slave, her head down, smiling.
"Vixen,” said Cabot to her, apparently in English. I do not find this word in the resources.
"Do not rise,” Cabot cautioned Lord Arcesilaus, for the Kur was now half on its feet, and blood emerged from beneath more than one bandage.
Cabot went to the back of the cave, and Lord Arcesilaus subsided, in obvious pain.
"The world is at stake,” came from the translator.
"You must be cared for,” said Cabot.
"Leave her behind,” said Lord Arcesilaus, “and I will eat her, and this I swear by all the faces of the Nameless One."
"We will leave water, and food,” said Cabot.
"Begone,” said Lord Arcesilaus.
Cabot and the slave set supplies within reach of the weakened, anguished Kur, water in vessels which were available from the purchases of Lord Grendel earlier, and what was left of edibles suitable for Kurii, meat from huntings, and some of the processed edibles which had been chemically designed for compatibility with the Kur metabolism. The latter, incidentally, are also edible by certain forms of animal life, sheep, goats, kaiila, humans, and such.
Cabot would take few supplies with him, as he expected foraging would be available, and he retained, as well, some of the coins won from Peisistratus, and, of course, the rubies he had originally been given by Lord Agamemnon, prior to the trial of Lord Pyrrhus.
Cabot then looked upon his lovely goods, the slave, Lita.
"Master?” she asked.
"Face away from me,” said Cabot. “Place your hands behind your back."
There were two swift, decisive clicks, almost simultaneous, and the slave, frightened, tried to separate her wrists.
"Master!” she said.
"Slave bracelets,” explained Cabot. “From Peisistratus. I have kept them in my pouch."
"I am helpless!” she said, jerking at the bracelets. “These are metal! I cannot slip them!"
"They are not intended to be slipped,” said Cabot.
"I did not expect to be braceleted,” she said.
"I find that acceptable,” said Cabot.
"If you must bind me, Master,” she said, “do not do so in this fashion, I beg you. Rather, use slave cord. That will hold a girl well."
"It would,” said Cabot, “but anyone might cut it away. Too, you might, in time, fray it, and sever it, say, on a sharp stone."
"You would have me enmetaled, braceleted, on our journey, so utterly helpless?"
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"I might as well be a kaiila,” she said.
"Precisely,” said Cabot.
"It was a joke!” she protested.
"Not at all,” said Cabot.
"And I suppose I am then to be tethered, as well,” she said.
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"Surely not!” she said. “Surely not!"
He turned her about, rudely, and put the leash on her neck, over the collar. He then jerked twice on the leash, pulling it against the back of her neck. Such things are commonly done with slaves. They understand such things.
"I am tethered!” she said. “You have literally tethered me! I am literally tethered!"
"Yes,” said Cabot.
Cabot then held the leash taut, his fist but inches from her neck.
He then casually examined the shapely, braceleted captive of his leash, her face and throat, and shoulders and figure, scarcely concealed in the brief tunic, and her thighs, and calves, and ankles, and small, bared feet.
"I am enmetaled, and tethered,” she said. “Is Master satisfied?"
"I am considering the matter,” said Cabot.
"Master regards his slave boldly,” she said.
"Slaves may be so regarded,” he said.
"Does Master's pack beast meet with his approval?” she asked.
"For light loads, such as you might well replace the kaiila."
"A slave is flattered,” she said.
Cabot then slackened the leash, but did not release it.
"Doubtless I have little to fear now from Goreans,” she said, “as my status as a mere beast of burden is well displayed."
"You are a beast of burden, true,” said Cabot, “but scarcely one accountable as a mere beast of burden."
"Of course,” she said. “I am a female slave."
Cabot grinned.
The female slave, you see, is wholly at the mercy of the master.
She pulled a little at the bracelets.
"And doubtless the bracelets are to make even more clear my inability to alter or modify in any way the use to which I am to be put."
"Yes,” said Cabot. “In this way it should be made clear to Goreans that this is something done to you, and that you have had no say in it."
"I would be truly in jeopardy otherwise?” she asked.
"Quite possibly,” said Cabot. “And in this way, too, it should be clear to Kurii that you are in no way a participant or combatant, but only goods, only an animal, and slave."