"And what of the girls at the Larma?" I asked. "Are they expensive?" "We, like those at the Dina and Veminium, are affordable," she said. "Our uses go much for the standard prices."
"Were the girls at the Larma all once larmas?" I asked.
"I suppose some, Master," laughed the third girl.
"Were you a larma?" I asked her.
"No, Master," she laughed. "I have known that I was a slave since puberty, and I never pretended to be otherwise, perhaps because I feared someone might see through me and beat me."
"Of what caste were you? I asked.
"Of the Peasants," she said. "We had too many daughters, too few sons. Two of my older brothers had already been sold into slavery before I was fifteen. One autumn my father's fields again failed. We were starving. I begged him to sell me. He then beat me, and bound me, and sold me."
"You are happy as a slave?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said. "It is what I am, and want to be. I hope only that someday I may have a private master, a love master, to whom I may be his devoted and obedient love slave."
"You long," I asked, "for a master who is strong, and love?"
"Yes, Master," she said.
She was a pretty young thing. She had very dark hair and very light skin, and, for a girl who had once been of the Peasants, was surprisingly slim. She reminded me a little of Phoebe, from Telnus, whom I had left on the coffle with the remainder of the debtor sluts I had redeemed, and obtained, at the Crooked Tarn, Temione, Amina, Rimice and Liomache.
"Master!" she said. I had put down the sea bag and, crouching before her, lifted back the beads about her body.
"Are you typical of the girls at the Larma?" I asked her.
"I think so, Master," she said.
"You are, of course, soliciting for your master's tavern," I said. "Yes, Master," she said.
"But are you, yourself, rentable?" I asked.
"Of course, Master," she said.
"And what of you others?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," said the dina.
"Of course, Master, said the girl from the Veminium.
"Ho, Warrior," I said, getting up, addressing the young fellow, Marcus, who had only now descended the gangplank and was going to make his way up the pier, toward the warehouses, the shops, the town.
He turned to regard us, and I beckoned that he should join us.
"Line up," I said to the kneeling slaves. "Straighten your backs, get your knees wider."
Then they were indeed presented as an excellent display of slaves.
The young warrior looked upon them.
"What do you think of them?" I asked. I thought they would make a nice set." "They are appealing," he said.
His interest encouraged me. He needed a woman, and the best of such are slaves. "Who are you?" I asked the slaves.
"Roxanne, of the Dina, slave of Simonides, taverner of Port Cos," said the first.
"Korinne, of the Veninium, slave of Agathocles, taverner of Port Cos," said the second.
Yakube, of the Larma, slave of Panicrates, taverner of Port Cos," said the third.
"That is a Tahari name," said Marcus, looking at her closely. Indeed, of the three women it was she, the young slave from the Larma, to whom he seemed most drawn, in whom he seemed most interested. She was, I gathered, as I presumed they did not know one another, a type of woman whom he found extremely and excitingly attractive, a sort toward whom he seemed powerfully, perhaps almost irresistibly drawn. I was pleased to see his interest in her, as I hoped that she, or she and another, or she and the others, might distract him from his moody reflections. Slaves are excellent at relaxing a man, and giving him happiness. But something in his tone of voice had been menacing, and chilling. "Yes, Master," said the girl, hesitantly. She was clearly aware of the implicit menace in his tone. Slave girls are extremely sensitive to such things. I could see that she was frightened.
"But you are not of the Tahari, are you? he asked.
"No, Master," she said. Her coloring, of course, did not suggest that of a woman native to the Tahari region. Many males of the Tahari, of course, are fond of fair-skinned slaves, and such, shipped south and east, bring excellent prices in their markets. Thereafter they learn to serve their dark masters well, within the recesses of the cool, white buildings of the oases and cities, and out on the desert, in the tents. In such places they learn the wearing of the garments of the Tahari, and, if the master pleases, the stride-measuring ankle chains of the area, worn even by many free women. It is expected, too, that they will quickly become adept in the manifold labors of the Tahari woman, and, in particular, in their cases, those of the Tahari slave woman. In the latter respect, swiftly are the many meanings of the submission mat taught to them, where their slavery in their master's house or tent begins, but is not likely to end. To it they may be from time to time returned.
"Why do you have a Tahari name?" he asked.
"It was given to me, Master," she said.
This sort of thing is not all that unusual. For example, last fall, after accepting her as a slave, I had named the former Lady Charlotte of Samnium "Feiqa." Which is a Tahari name. The name, which I had soon determined, had done wonders for new understanding of herself, and for her sexuality. To be sure, much depends on the woman. certain names on Gor tend to be used almost exclusively as slave names, such as Dina, Lita, Lana, Tafa, Tela, Tula, and so on. Perhaps because of the commonness and simplicity of such names, as well as their exciting beauty, many girls respond quite well to them. Many masters, in acquiring a slave, will change her name that she may understand that she is now, in effect, beginning her life anew. Indeed, some masters, even with the same girl, and not simply as a matter of discipline or reward, may change her name, to startle her, to impress their will upon her, and, perhaps, to freshen their relationship, she understanding, in effect, that she must now begin anew.
"It is not to disguise another name?" he asked.
"No, Master," she said.
He regarded her.
I did not understand his seeming anger, his seeming suspicion.
"I have worn many names, Master," she said. "I am a slave. Men name me, as is fitting for me, as they please."
"Are you a bred slave?Э he asked.
"Not in the legal sense of the term, Master," she said.
"Speak clearly," he said.
"Though I am a natural slave," she said, "there was a time when I was not a legal slave. I was once, in the eyes of the law, a free woman,"
"What was your name, when you were free?" he asked.
She squirmed beneath his gaze, which was like edged steel. I was sure she wished that she might reach up and bring the strands of beads, which I had lifted and thrown back, about her collar, that they might dangle behind her, obscuring the less my vision of her loveliness, back again before her, as though such tiny, colorful objects might protect her to some extent from that imperious scrutiny. But she did not dare to lift her hands from her thighs where, in one of the common positions of the pleasure slave, they now reposed. I had little doubt but what their palms were sweating. She moved her knees a little further apart, presumably in an effort to make clear her desire to be pleasing. How lovely her throat looked in its closely fitting steel collar.
"Prokne," she said.
His eyes blazed.
She trembled. She knew, of course, from his insignia, that he had come from Ar's Station.
His hands went to his belt, and she shrank back. I though that perhaps he was considering it, to lash her.
"Are you from Cos?" he asked. "No, Master!" she said. "The fields of my father were north of White Water!"
White Water is called such because of rapids in its vicinity. It is a ton on the northern back of the Vosk. It is a member of the Vosk League. It is the first major town west of Lara, which is located at the confluence of the Vosk and Olni. Lara is the westernmost city in the Salerian Confederation. White Water is east of Ar's Station. There are three major towns between Ar's Station and White Water. They are Forest Port, Iskander and Tancred's Landing, which three towns, like White Water, are members of the Vosk League.