Then Lord Grendel looked down. “What have we here?” he asked.
"A human female, in suitable position,” said Cabot.
"I see,” said Lord Grendel.
He looked down at the girl.
"Do you like her like this?” asked Cabot.
"Yes,” said Lord Grendel. “She is very pretty, thusly."
"Do you not wish, thusly,” said Cabot to the kneeling girl, “to show your gratitude to your captor, and that you wish to be found pleasing to him, as his prisoner?"
"Yes,” she said. “Yes!"
"Rise up, Lady,” said Lord Grendel.
The girl sprang to her feet, and looked at Cabot, angrily, but, too unmistakably, there was something deep in her eyes, that seemed uncertain, even trembling.
She had been knelt, and in a common position of obeisance, by a man. This is common, of course, with slaves, but it is quite rare with free women. This position, of course, and the subjection to male dominance so clearly implicit in it, heats the thighs of slaves. Inadvertently, they moisten. Autonomously, involuntarily, interestingly, whether they wish it or not, their body responds. It readies itself for penetration. Women in such a position find themselves in a condition of need and arousal. They hope that their masters will soon see fit to remind them of the meaning of their collars. They are, after all, slaves.
"I think she should now report to Lita, to assist her in her duties,” said Cabot.
"I am a free woman,” she said. “Why should I work?"
"Many free women work,” said Cabot. “Even free women of the upper castes often work. Not all have slaves or servants. Too, work is quite common with free women of the lower castes."
"I do not see why I should work,” she said.
"Prisoners often work,” said Cabot.
"Not I!” she said.
"Lita will help you,” said Cabot. “She will show you what to do. I have given her instructions."
"Instructions?"
"As to your duties,” said Cabot.
"'Duties'?” she said.
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"Duties—duties fit for a slave!” she cried.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"But I am a free woman!” she cried, looking to Lord Grendel.
"But a prisoner,” Cabot reminded her.
"I will never be so demeaned!” she said. “Never!"
"You are not only a prisoner,” said Cabot, “but you are a woman who has a bell on her neck."
"So?” she said, warily.
"Thus you are a belled woman,” he said.
"Is that meaningful?” she asked.
"What do you think?” he said.
She shook the bell, angrily, but could not pull it from her neck.
"Commonly,” said Cabot, “save in the Tahari, it is only slaves who are belled."
"Take it off!” she demanded.
"To be sure,” said Cabot, “it is not a slave bell, or bells, but a leading bell, merely one to lure docile beasts to an unanticipated slaughter."
She glanced uneasily toward the perimeter of the camp.
"It might, of course, be pleasant,” said Cabot, “to put you in slave bells, perhaps ankle bells, wrist bells, waist bells, neck bells, and such."
"I am a free woman,” she said. “I will not work."
"As you will,” said Cabot, “but our Kur friends will be watching you."
"So?” she said.
"Several of them,” he said, “have urged your death by torture."
The Lady Bina shuddered.
"Including the camp master, who is watching you, even now,” said Cabot.
She looked about, and saw the camp master, indeed, regarding her, and not pleasantly. She made it a point not to meet his eyes.
Women often fear to meet the eyes of those who have authority over them. What if their glance should be interpreted as boldness?
What might then be the consequences?
Indeed, some masters do not permit their female slaves to meet their eyes. Commonly, however, the Gorean master wishes a slave to meet his eyes, that he may the better see the beauty of her eyes, and the better read her least expression. Indeed, few women know themselves more helplessly exposed, or more helplessly understood, or better read, than by a Gorean master.
In the presence of a master, it is difficult for them to conceal the least nuance of thought, or emotion, or feeling.
They are in his collar.
"You will work, and work well,” said Cabot.
"No!” she said.
"But, yes,” said Cabot.
"Lord Grendel will protect me!” she said.
"I am sure he would do so, if at all possible,” said Cabot. “But he might not have time. A throat may be bitten through in a moment, a sudden blow may snap the neck, a heart, even, may be gouged out in an instant. To be sure, you might, with some luck, be avenged, and you might find some consolation in that possibility, but that only if the culprit were identified, and there is little assurance of such a thing."
"You are trying to frighten me,” she said.
"I think you should hasten to Lita's side,” Cabot said, “to be instructed in your duties."
The Lady Bina looked from side to side, angrily.
"There is the camp master,” said Cabot. “He is still looking this way. I do not think he is pleased. He has his whip."
"His whip?"
"Certainly."
"He is one who wished me slain?” she said.
"Yes,” said Cabot. “One of several."
The Lady Bina turned white.
"And have no fear,” said Cabot, “aside from other considerations, hostility, and such, he will not hesitate to put the whip to you. You are not even of his species."
"Give me other clothing,” she said, “not this thin, tiny thing!"
"You may remove it, if you wish,” said Cabot.
At that point the camp master, who was not a patient sort, cracked the whip, suddenly, sharply, and the sound resounded throughout the camp.
That is a sound which is unmistakable.
Certainly it is familiar to slaves, even to those who may not have felt it, but well understand they are subject to its jurisdiction, and its remonstrances, and even to its gratuitous whims.
And, needless to say, it is a sound which even free women, as they are women, understand.
The Lady Bina then, uttering a small cry of misery, turned about and rushed from their presence.
"The human female runs interestingly, does she not?” asked Grendel.
"Yes,” said Cabot, “and attractively, I think. It has to do with the hip structure."
"Doubtless,” said Grendel.
"And most cannot begin to outrun males either,” said Cabot.
"Doubtless,” said Grendel.
"And that is doubtless why many of them end up in collars,” said Cabot.
"Doubtless,” said Lord Grendel.
Chapter, the Forty-Sixth:
DARKNESS ENCROACHES;
A PLAN IS FORMED
In Lord Grendel's small group, one of several, there were some forty Kurii and some twenty to thirty humans.
"Intelligence is clear,” said Lord Grendel, addressing his group. “The enemy is massing."
"How is that known?” asked Cabot. It was difficult to attain such intelligence recently, for the cordons of purple scarves seemed ever more imminent, their patrols ever bolder and more intrusive.
"Noble Flavion has again pierced enemy lines and lived to return,” said Lord Grendel.
"He is the subtlest and most effective of scouts,” said one of the Kurii.
"Without him we would be blind,” said another.
"Well done, Flavion,” said Cabot.
"I go alone, I take care,” said the scout.
"Few,” said Cabot, “have penetrated as deeply into the territory of Agamemnon, and returned to report."
"I have been fortunate,” said Flavion.
"The exterior enemy, that outside the world, has been driven off,” said one of their group. “This releases those forces to band against us."