“It would be insane to do so,” said Elena.
“Have you ever heard, sweet Elena,” asked Iaachus, “of the festung of Sim Giadini?”
“No,” she said.
“It was on Tangara,” he said. “It was a fortress, and holy place, maintained by holy creatures, the brotherhood of Sim Giadini, a Floonian brotherhood.”
“‘Was’?”
“Yes.”
“I know nothing of it,” she said.
“Sim Giadini, or Saint Giadini,” said Iaachus, “was an Emanationist.”
“What is that?” she asked.
“The Emanationist doctrine is that Floon was an emanation of Karch.”
“How could an Ogg be an emanation, and not an Ogg?” she asked.
“I do not claim the doctrine is intelligible, no more than a dozen others,” said Iaachus, “but what is important is that it is not the orthodox doctrine as the Exarch of Telnar understands orthodoxy.”
“And how does he understand orthodoxy?”
“A great coincidence is involved,” said Iaachus.
“It is his own doctrine,” said Elena.
“Yes,” said Iaachus. “In any event, briefly, the Exarch of Telnar, with his smooth manners, his flattery and honeyed words, has the ear of the empress mother. He has informed her of the joys of Floon. I fear he has begun her instruction. He has undoubtedly informed her of the dangers of diversity, how frightful it would be if all did not think the one, true thought, his thought, of the threat which heresy poses to the empire, to the throne, and to her son, the emperor.”
“Did he not inform her that she has no koos?” asked Elena.
“I suspect it did not occur to him to do so,” said Iaachus.
“What of the festung of Sim Giadini?” asked Elena.
“Its destruction was ordered,” said Iaachus.
“Surely not by the emperor,” said Elena. “The emperor is simple. He cannot even write his own name.”
“By another,” said Iaachus.
“The imperial signet ring is in the keeping of the empress mother,” said Elena.
“Of course,” said Iaachus.
“Then it begins,” said Elena, “the intervention of the state on behalf of a particular sect.”
“It is not so simple,” said Iaachus. “Why an imperial attack on the festung of Sim Giadini, and not on a hundred other festungen, many of more portentous heterodoxy, many of which would be within easier range?”
“I do not understand it, Master,” she said.
“Nor do I,” said Iaachus. “But there must be a reason.”
“Master is tired,” she said.
“No,” he said, “I do not think so, not tired, not really, rather, troubled, puzzled, concerned.”
“Shall I go to your chamber?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Shall I lay out chains and a whip,” she asked, “and then kneel at the foot of your couch, my head down?”
“Naked, of course,” he said.
“Of course, Master,” she said.
“And hope that you will be found pleasing?”
“Most certainly, Master.”
“Elena,” said he.
“Master?” she said.
“You are subject to the whip,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she said, “for I am a slave.”
“What is it like, to know yourself subject to the whip?” he asked.
“It is to know oneself a slave,” she said.
“You fear the whip?”
“Very much.”
“Interesting,” he said.
“But it thrills me, too, to be subject to it,” she said.
“Speak,” he said.
“I wanted to be such that I would be owned, and must obey, and would be punished if I were not pleasing.”
“You wanted to be a slave?” he said.
“I wanted to be true to myself,” she said, “for I am a slave.”
“Do you like the feel of the whip on your body?” he asked.
“Very seldom its stroke,” she said, “for that hurts, and terribly. I would do much to avoid it.”
“I see,” he said.
“But I like to feel it against my body, its touch, its motion, and caress, for I well know what it could do to me, and in its touch I am well reminded that I am what I most want to be, a slave.”
“‘Very seldom’?” he said.
“Must I speak the truth?” she asked.
“You are a slave,” he said.
“Naturally I know that I will be punished, if I am not displeasing,” she said.
“Of course,” he said.
“But there are rare times,” she said, “when I relish its stroke, if but briefly, for it confirms my bondage upon me, my beloved, precious bondage.”
“You may precede me to my chambers,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
He watched her rise, back away, and then turn, and exit from the room. He could see the stairwell behind the briefly opened door.
“Why,” muttered Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol, to himself, “why the festung of Sim Giadini? It is not that important, it is too far away, it is too remote from the centers of empire. Why? There must be a reason.”
He waited for a few minutes, and then he, too, left the room.
22
“Stand straight, with the others,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” said Cornhair.
She stood straight, on the platform, not meeting the eyes of any in the crowd, some loitering, some passing, in the street. About her neck, suspended by two cords, hung a small, rectangular, wooden placard, about six inches in width, some four inches in height. On it was inscribed a legend as to her origin, age, physical condition, accomplishments, and defects, information which might be of interest to a possible buyer. Cornhair, in the way of accomplishments, had no notable skills. For example, she could not cook, was not a seamstress, could not play a musical instrument, or such. She could, however, read and write Telnarian, which many slaves, brought from far worlds, could not. With respect to defects, which were few, unless, say, one would prefer a larger, stronger woman, one more fit for heavy labors, one less vulnerably or helplessly feminine, or, say, one of a different color or figure, buyers were merely apprised of her newness to bondage and her lack of training. A buyer, accordingly, must be prepared to supply these lacks, and improve his purchase, which is easy enough to do, of course, by the switch or whip.
Above the placard, and within the cords, as one might expect, she wore a market collar. Naturally, too, she, as all the others, all women, for this was a woman market, was stripped.
That is the way beasts are sold.
Too, it is natural for buyers to wish to well apprise themselves of an item prior to its purchase.
She became aware of a figure near her, robed, masculine. She dared not turn her head, nor meet his eyes.
How keenly then was Cornhair aware of her bondage, her slightness, and bared beauty, the large, looming, fully clothed body near her.
She was naked, and, at her side, was a male, fully clothed.
It is quite meaningful for a woman to be unclothed in the presence of a fully clothed male.
She is then, in such a contrast, well apprised of what she is, of her startling and marvelous difference from the male, of her radical femaleness.
In no way can she then conceal or diminish her dramatic difference from the male.
Too, to be unclothed before the clothed, how could the contrast between forms of life, between free and slave, between owner and owned, be more clearly drawn?
She then realized that her nudity was not a mere convenience, having to do with the exhibition of merchandise.
Far more was involved.
It was a way of making clear what she was, and was not, that she was not free, but a slave.
Are there not a thousand symbolisms involved? Are there not a thousand ways of drawing the most telling, and salient, of distinctions between forms of life, between the free and the slave, between the noble, worthy citizen and the meaningless beast? The free may clothe themselves as they choose; the slave may not. Let her hope to be granted clothing. Its extent and nature, if it is permitted, will be determined by the free. And men, commonly, if permitting the slave clothing, will enjoy dressing the slave for their own pleasure, and in such a way that it is clear to herself and others that she is a slave. Many are the symbolisms, and realities, involved. The free command, the slave obeys. The free stand; the slave kneels. The free speak as, and when, they wish. The slave may speak only upon the sufferance of the free, and her speech must be suitable, soft, gentle, respectful, and deferent, and its diction must be clear. She dare not raise her voice to a free person; she is not to speak stridently or shrilly; she is not to speak shortly, sharply, or impatiently. Such lapses will bring punishment, commonly the whip. Slovenliness of speech, or, indeed, of appearance or movement, is not permitted the slave. She is to be well spoken when permitted to speak, and is to be attractive and graceful. She is not free. The free are to be pleased, the slave is to please. The free is as he chooses to be. The slave is marked, and collared. The free behave as they please. The slave kneels and requests permission. The slave may be blindfolded, gagged, braceleted, thonged, chained and roped; she may be kenneled and caged, bought and sold.