"We will attend to the matter," I said.
"No!" she wept.
I looked at the others. "And you, too," I suggested, "are errant slaves."
"No, Master!" they wept. "No, Master!"
"You cannot seriously intend to punish me!" said Filomela. "I was a free woman!"
"That is where most slaves come from," I said. I turned to the other slaves. "Were you not all once free women?" I asked.
"Yes, Master!" they said.
"But I was of high caste!" said Filomela.
"What was your caste?" I asked.
"The Builders!" she said.
"But you are not now of the Builders, or of any other caste, are you?" I asked. "No," she said.
"What are you?"
"A slave," she said.
"Accordingly," I said, "you may be punished as what you are, a slave."
Suddenly she laughed, in hysterical relief.
"What is wrong?" I asked.
"It is a joke!" she said. "It is a game you are playing, to turn about and trick these fools, to humiliate these defeated, bedraggled beasts!"
"I do not understand," I said.
"You, and your fellow, are of Cos," she said. "I see it on your armbands! It is your business to pacify the men of Ar, to keep them down, to suppress them, to keep them helpless, futile, confused, domesticated, tamed, subdued! Surely you have your orders to that effect. You can succeed in this, Ar is defeated. She is helpless. She is crushed. The entire might of Cos backs your authority! Grind down the men of Ar, as you should. Continue to keep them, as they have been kept, intimidated herds of prisoners incarcerated in their own city, encouraged to view the wretchedness of their lot as the evidence of some new triumph. And it is your intention to use me to help you in this, by permitting me to insult them, by permitting me to mock their manhood, to reduce their virility. Of course! I now understand! So now disband this rabble and release me!"
She made as though to rise.
"Remain on your knees, slave girl," I said.
"You must let me go, you must order my release, you must take me from these brutes, you must scold them, speak to them of laws and such, or something, anything!" she cried. "Defend me, us! I demand it! Release me! You must! I beg it! The men of Ar have been defeated! No longer are they men! No longer are they mighty and masters! They are now nothing, they are all weaklings! You are of Cos! You must keep them that way! It is important to you to keep them that way! Arrest them if they dare think again of pride and manhood, tangle them in rulings, trip them with laws, lie to them, confuse them, put them in prison, do not let them understand themselves, or become themselves, if necessary, put them to the sword! Burn Ar! Destroy it! Salt its ashes! Do you not understand how dangerous might probe to be manhood in Ar? You must not permit it! And you can use women like us to help you in your schemes, protecting us, and using us to diminish men! Let us be your allies in the conquest and subjugation of Ar! Surely you understand me? You are of Cos! You are of Cos!"
"But I am not of Cos," I said.
"Aiii!" cried several of the men about.
"You have drunk from a high bowl," I said, "and more than once you have spoken untruthfully, for example, in denying you sensed slave feelings in yourself."
"Forgive me, Masters!" she cried.
"Too," I said, "you have demeaned the men of Ar."
"Forgive me, Masters!" she wept. "You are men! You are men! A slave begs forgiveness!" Her concern was certainly not out of place. The demeaning of men, whereas it is permitted to, and not unknown among, free women, is not permitted to female slaves. Such, on their part, can be a capital offense. "More importantly," I said, "you have not been pleasing."
She looked at me, wildly.
"Remove her tunic," I said.
She was then amongst us, on her knees, a stripped slave. She was comely. I then turned away from her. "What is new on the public boards?" I asked a fellow.
"Master! Master!" cried the girl, behind me.
"What of the slave?" asked a man.
"You are men," I said. "Doubtless you will know what to do with her."
One of the fellows looked at me.
"For example," I said, "she was thirsty. Perhaps you can see, then, that her thirst is quenched."
"That we will," said a fellow, taking charge of the matter.
"What of these others?" asked another man.
"Read their collars," I said. "And then instruct them to return to their masters and give them such a night of slave pleasure as they would not have conceived possible. Then be certain to follow up the matter the next day, to make certain they complied fully."
"We shall," said a fellow.
"What of the next day, and the next?" asked a man.
"I would expect," I said, "that the masters, seeing what their slaves are truly capable of, and what may be obtained of them, will not be shortchanged in the future. On the other hand, if they are not strong enough to obtain the best and finest from their properties I am sure the girls themselves, they then needing true masters, will in one way or another soon obtain a new disposition. Perhaps the weak masters, unable to satisfy them, will weary of seeing the bondage knot in their hair, will weary of their importunities, their moans and whinings in the night, their beggings for use, and either give them, or sell them, to another. Or perhaps the weak masters, whether unable to satisfy them, or merely unwilling to do so, will simply yield to their entreaties to be given away or sold, that they may receive an opportunity for their love, service and beauty to be put at the mercy of someone who can appreciate it and knows what to do with it."
"You heard?" inquired a fellow of the kneeling slaves.
"Yes, Master!" said one of them. "We will give our masters such a night of slave pleasure as they never knew could exist."
"Read the collars," said another fellow.
Names were read, and domiciles. Men were assigned to follow up on each slave, the next morning and report back to a certain metal-worker's shop. "Speed off!" said a fellow.
Quickly, released, the four girls leaped up and hurried away.
Tonight, I thought, there would be at least four astonished fellows in Ar, and four slaves who, by morning, if only by teaching themselves, by their own actions, would have a much better conception of the profoundities, and sensations involved, and significances, of their condition.
"What is new on the boards?" I asked Marcus. I did not really wish to make it clear to the men about that I did not read Gorean as well as I might.
Men crowded happily about me.
"There is to be curfew," said Marcus. "It begins tonight. The streets are to be kept clear between the eighteenth and the fourth Ahn."
"What is the reason for that?" I asked a fellow.
"To limit the movements of the Delta Brigade," he whispered.
"Is there such a thing?" I asked.
"Seremides thinks so," said a man.
"I heard a barracks was burned last night," said a fellow.
"I heard that, too," said Marcus.
"Is it on the boards," I asked.
"No," said a man.
"No," said Marcus. "I do not think so."
"Then it must not have happened," said a fellow, grimly.
"Of course," said another.
I heard the slave, some yards off, at the fountain, crying out. She had been taken to the lower bowl of the fountain. There she was sputtering and gasping, and crying out for mercy. Again and again was her head, held by the hair, forced down, held under the water and then jerked up again. "Please, Masters! Mercy, Masters!" she wept.
"The delka has been forbidden!" said Marcus. "It says so, here!"
"Interesting," I said.
"That is the first public recognition of the Delta Brigade," said a fellow. I now heard the sound of a lash. The girl had her head down, her wet hair forward. She was held on her knees by the fountain, a wrist in the hands of each of two fellows. She shook under each blow. Then, when they had finished, she was on her hands and knees, head down. Her entire body was trembling. She slipped to the pavement. Her hair was about. She lay there. It seemed she could hardly believe what had been done to her. I supposed this was the first time she had been lashed. It is something no slave forgets. A fellow then drew her up again, by the hair, to all fours and, looming over her, pointed to the fountain. She now, slowly, painfully, crawled to the fountain, between the men, and then, putting her head down, and as was fitting for her, and as she should have done earlier in the afternoon, drank from the lower bowl. She was then pulled back and put prone on the pavement. Her hands were pulled behind her and fastened there, with a short thong.