The Lady Bina laughed. “You are trying to make me angry,” she said. “You will not succeed."
"Lord Grendel rescued you,” said Cabot. “He saved your life. He loves you."
"He is Kur,” she said, “and a poor Kur, one deformed, consider his hands, his voice."
"Master,” whispered Lita, “Lord Grendel approaches."
"Tal,” said Cabot, rising.
"Tal,” said Lord Grendel.
"Where is the tool, to free me of this hated device?” said the Lady Bina, indicating the unwelcome encirclement which graced her slim neck.
There are chain collars, thought Cabot.
As it is difficult to engrave such, these will commonly bear a small, dangling metal disk. On this disk pertinent information may be recorded, such as a girl's current name and master.
"Forgive me, my lady,” said Lord Grendel, “I could not find one in the time I had.” He then turned to Cabot. “Many of the cattle are now beyond the pens. This will attract attention. There will doubtless be inquiries. I think it is best for us to leave this place, and seek some camp of allies."
"I know one,” said Cabot.
"I, too,” said Lord Grendel.
"Let us lose no time,” said Cabot.
As the Lady Bina rose to her feet the bell on her neck gave out its note.
"Master,” exclaimed Lita, pointing, toward the left. “There!"
"It is one of the cattle,” said Cabot.
The massive thing, perhaps six hundred pounds in weight, was in the area from which the ropes and hooks had approached the slaughter bench.
"Drive it away!” demanded the Lady Bina.
Stupidly, balefully, the creature, massive and stolid, not moving, was looking at the Lady Bina.
"I think he remembers her,” said Cabot. “I think he knows what she did. I think he understands now what she was doing."
"Get rid of him!” said the Lady Bina, shuddering.
"I do not think such things are dangerous,” said Lord Grendel.
"Perhaps not before,” said Cabot, “but now I do not know. Things are not now the same."
"Drive it away!” demanded the Lady Bina.
"It is only human,” said Lord Grendel.
"Drive it away!” she said.
"Very well, my lady,” he said, and raised his arms and roared, and the creature turned slowly about, and moved away.
"What will be done with the bodies?” asked Cabot.
Lita looked sick.
"Our cohorts, I think,” said Lord Grendel, “will burn this place."
"Good,” said Cabot.
"Where are we going?” asked the Lady Bina.
"Blindfold her,” said Cabot.
"It may be best,” said Lord Grendel.
"Never!” said the Lady Bina.
"A hood would be better,” said Cabot, “and a gag hood even better. I would much enjoy shoving the packing in her pretty little mouth, securing it behind the back of her neck, and then fastening the hood on her, buckling it in place, closely, tightly."
"She is a free woman,” said Lord Grendel, scandalized.
"She might run to the purple scarves, and seek to ingratiate herself once more with Agamemnon, swearing her fealty to him, perhaps bartering for power with our plans and positions,” said Cabot.
"Purple scarves?” she said.
"The ensigns of those loyal to Agamemnon,” said Cabot, watching her.
"Oh,” she said.
Cabot was satisfied then with the results of his experiment.
"You would not betray us, would you?” asked Lord Grendel.
"Certainly not,” she said.
"Let us leave her here,” said Cabot.
"No!” she said.
"Humans will be killed on sight,” said Grendel.
"Take me with you!” she said.
"Better to put an ost in your pouch,” said Cabot.
The ost, according to the resources, is a tiny, highly venomous snake. It is indigenous to certain locales on Gor.
"Let us leave her here, bound hand and foot,” said Cabot.
"Never,” said Lord Grendel.
And thus Cabot's second experiment came to its conclusion. He had satisfied himself that the Lady Bina, as he had supposed, could not be trusted, and that Lord Grendel, for whatever reason, might die before he would permit harm to come to her.
Cabot wished that she might be collared, for then she would be of little danger to anyone, save to herself, if she were not fully pleasing to masters.
"Are the jewels in her tiara genuine?” asked Cabot.
"I would think so,” said Lord Grendel, “as that would improve the joke, Lord Agamemnon rewarding her with riches of little interest to himself, and then placing her naked in the pens. Thus she was genuinely rewarded with wealth, perhaps as promised, and then, afterwards, treated as Lord Agamemnon thought appropriate."
"Treated as the despicable, worthless, treacherous slut she was,” said Cabot.
"Kurii often have dealings with traitors,” said Lord Grendel, “but they feel no obligation to be fond of them, to respect them, and such."
"Let us be on our way,” she said.
Then she looked at Lita, with disgust.
"If any are to be left here, bound hand and foot,” she said, “let it be she, whose presence might handicap us, a worthless slave."
"She is not mine,” said Lord Grendel.
"She comes with us,” said Cabot.
Lita threw him a swift glance, of relief, of joy, of gratitude.
"Wait!” said the Lady Bina. “I cannot go like this. I am unclothed!"
"We will find you something suitable, as soon as possible,” said Lord Grendel.
"See,” said the Lady Bina, “the slave is clothed and I am not!"
"It is only a tiny, shameful tunic,” said Lord Grendel, “a handful of cheap, clinging cloth."
"She is clothed,” said the Lady Bina.
"But,” said Lord Grendel, “it is not a garment for such as you, a free woman. It is a garment designed to designate its wearer's worthlessness, her meaninglessness, that she is no more than goods, no more than an animal. It is, like others of its kind, little more than a degrading rag. Do not think of it. Put it from your mind! It is clearly no more than the mockery of a garment. Consider its lightness, its brevity. It is brazen. It is shamefully revealing. It is the sort of garment in which a lusty man, for his pleasure, and amusement, would put a woman helplessly in his power, indeed, if he permitted her a garment at all. To such a garment, in its scantiness, in its revealing suggestiveness, in what it says about its occupant, might not a full and honest nudity be preferable? Such a garment is a public proclamation that its wearer, by it so belittled and demeaned, by it so mercilessly exhibited, by it so blatantly exposed, can be no more than a slave."
"I will have it,” she said.
"Please, no, my lady!” said Lord Grendel.
"My tiara,” she said, “will enhance and redeem the ensemble. It will indicate my condition, my rank."
"My lady!” protested Lord Grendel, in misery.
"Slave!” said the Lady Bina.
"Mistress,” said Lita, her head down, frightened.
Lita was kneeling, as is common with slaves in the presence of free persons. She did have her knees together, doubtless because of the presence of a free woman, Lady Bina.
"Remove your garment,” said the Lady Bina. “Give it to me!"
Lita looked wildly at Cabot.
"Must a command be repeated?” he asked.
"No, Master,” she whispered.
A slave's obedience is to be instantaneous, and unquestioning. The least hesitation may mean the whip. They are slaves.
"Good,” said the Lady Bina, seizing the garment. She then held it to her nose, disdainfully. “It stinks,” she said.
Lita had, that very morning, washed the garment, and her own body, in a small stream, shortly before they had encountered the trapped sleen, subsequently freed by Cabot.
To be sure, a garment will retain the scent of a wearer, even if worn for a few moments. If this is not clear to a human, it is clear to us, and, of course, even more so to sleen, but then the sleen, as is well known, is a remarkable tracker. Goreans use them for such purposes, and so, too, do we.