To our surprise she had not resisted the boy's kiss.
He held her by the arms. "I am a slave," he said.
To our astonishment, then she, in all her friendlessness, in all her misery and loneliness, lifted her lips to his, with great timidity, that he might, should it please him to do so, again touch them.
Again he gently kissed her.
"I, too, am a slave," she said. "My name is Vina."
"You are worthy," he said, holding her head in his hands, "to be a Ubara." "And you," she whispered, "to be a Ubar."
"I think you will find," I told her, "the arms of the boy Fish more welcome, though on a mat of a slave, than the arms of gross Lurius, on the furs of the Ubar's couch."
She looked at me, tears in her eyes.
I spoke to the kitchen master. "At night," I said, "chain them together." "A single blanket?" he asked.
"Yes," I told him.
The girl collasped weeping, but Fish, with great gentleness lifted her in his arms and carried her from the hall.
I laughed.
And there was great laughter.
How rich a joke it was, to have enslaved the girl who would have been Ubara of Cos, to have put her to work in my kitchens, to have given the use of her to a mere slave boy! This story would soon be told in all the ports of Thassa and all the cities of Gor! How shamed would be Tyros and Cos, enemies of my city, Port Kar! How delicious is the defeat of the enemies! How glorious is power, success, triumph!
I reached drunkenly into the bag of gold beside my chair and grabbed up handfuls flinging them about the room. I stood and threw about me showers of the tarn disks of Ar, of Tyros, of Cos, Thentis, Turia and Port Kar! Men scrambled wildly laughing and fighting for the coins. Each was of double weight!
"Paga!" I cried and held back the goblet and Telima filled it.
I regretted only that Midice and Tab were not with me to share my trimuph. I stood drunkenly, holding to the table. I spilled paga. "Paga!" I cried, and Telima again filled the goblet. I drank again. And ten, again, wildly, shouting, crying out, I threw gold to all the corners of the room, laughing as the men fought and leaped to seize it.
I drank and then threw more coins and more coins about the room.
There was laughter and delighted cries.
"Hail Bosk!" I heard. "Hail Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar!"
I threw more gold wildly about. I drank again, and again. "Yes," I cried. "Hail Bosk!"
"Hail Bosk!" they cried. "Hail Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar!"
"Yes," I cried. "Hail Bosk! Hail, Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar! Hail Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar!"
I heard a cry, as of fear, from my right, and I turned to stare drunkenly toward the end of the table. There, Luma, chained at the table, in her bracelets, was looking at me. On her face there was a look of horror.
"Your face," she cried. "Your face!"
I looked at her, puzzled.
The room was suddenly quiet.
"No," she said, suddenly, shaking her head. "It is gone now."
"What is wrong?" I asked her.
"Your face," she said.
"What of it?" I asked.
"It is nothing," she said, looking down.
"What of it!" I demanded.
"For an instant," she said, "I thought-I thought it was the face of Surbus." I cried out with rage and seized the great table, flinging it, scattering dishes and paga, from the dias. Thura and Ula screamed. Sandra screamed, darting away, her hands before her, with an incongruous clash of slave bells. Luma, fastened by the neck to the table, was jerked from the dais, and thrown over the table to the tiles of the hall. Slave girls fled from the room, screaming.
Enraged I took the bag of gold, what was left of it, and hurled it out into the hall, spilling a rain of golden tarn disks before it struck the tiles. Then, furious, I turned about and, stumbling, left the hall.
"Admiral!" I heard behind me. "Admiral!"
I clutched the medallion about my neck, with its tarn ship and the initials of the Council of Captains.
Stumbling, crying out in rage, I staggered toward my quarters.
I could hear the consternation behind me.
In fury, I rushed on, sometimes falling, sometimes striking against the walls. Then I burst open the doors of my quarters.
Midice and Tab leaped apart.
I howled with rage and turned about striking the walls with my fists and then, throwing off my cloak, spun weeping to face them, in the same instant drawing my blade.
"It is torture and impalement for you, Midice," I said.
"No," said Tab. "It is my fault. I forced myself upon her."
"No, No!" cried Midice. "It is my fault! My fault!"
"Torture and impalement," I said to her. Then I regarded Tab. "You have been a good man, Tab," I gestured with my blade. "Defend yourself," I said. Tab shrugged. He did not draw his weapon. "I know you can kill me," he said. "Defend yourself," I screamed to him.
"Very well," said Tab, and his weapon left its sheath.
Midice flung herself on her knees between us, weeping. "No!" she cried. "Kill Midice!"
"I shall slay you slowly before her," I said, "and then I shall deliver her to the torturers."
"Kill Midice!" wept the girl. "But let him go! Let him go!"
"Why have you done this to me!" I cried out to her weeping. "Why? Why?" "I love him," she said, weeping. "I love him."
I laughed. "You cannot love," I told her. "You are Midice. You are small, and petty, and selfish, and vain! You cannot love!"
"I do love him," she whispered. "I do."
"Do you not love me?" I begged.
"No," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "No."
"But I have given you many things," I wept. "And have I not given you great pleasure?"
"Yes," she said, "you have given me many things."
"And have I not," I demanded, "given you great pleasure!"
"yes," she said, "you have."
"Then why!" I cried out.
"I do not love you," she said.
"You love me!" I screamed at her.
"No," she said, "I do not love you. And I have never loved you."
I wept.
I returned my blade to its sheath.
"Take her," I said to Tab. "She is yours."
"I love her," he said.
"Take her away!" I screamed. "Leave my service! Leave my sight!"
"Midice," said Tab, hoarsely.
She fled to him and he put one arm about her. Then they turned and left the room, he still carrying the unsheathed sword.
I walked slowly about the room, and then I sat on the edge of the stone couch, on the furs, and put my head in my hands.
How long I had sat thus I do not know.
I heard, after some time, a slight sound in the threshold of my quarters. I looked up.
In the threshold stood Telima.
I looked at her.
"Have you come to scrub the tiles?" I asked, sternly.
She smiled. "It was done earlier," she said, "that I might serve late at the feast."
"Does the kichen master know you are here?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No," she said.
"You will be beaten," I said.
I saw taht, about her left arm, she wore again the armlet of gold, which I remembered from so long ago, that which I had taken from her to give to Midice. "you have the armlet," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"How did you get it?" I asked.
"From Midice," she said.
"You stole it," I said.
"No," she said.
I met her eyes.
"Midice gave it back to me," she said.
"When?" i asked.
"More than a month ago," said Telima.
"She was kind to a Kettle Slave," I said.
Telima smiled, tears in her eyes. "yes," she said.
"I have not see you wear it," I said.
"I have kept it hidden in the straw of my mat," said Telima.
I looked on Telima. She stood in the doorway, rather timidly. She was barefoot. She wore the brief, stained, wretched garment of a Kettle Slave. About her throat, locked, was a simple, steel collar. But she wore on her left arm an armlet of gold.