As I stood wondering why the women were acting so despondent, three of the male bedinn entered our tent and began gathering us up. We were all taken to the center of the tent and thrown to our bellies, then one by one our wrists and ankles were tied. Once we were all trussed up to the men’s satisfaction, leather ropes were put around our throats and then tied to the legs of one single tripod cooking-stand put up in the middle of the circle our bodies made. The tripod was light and easily knocked down, and was a simple device for finding out if any of us moved from the spot we were put in. It didn’t take much imagination to guess what would happen to us if the tripod was down when it came time to untie us, so every one of us made very sure not to move even as much as the tightly tied leather on us allowed. Lying still was hard right then, but moving would have been harder later.
I had almost dozed off when I was brought back awake by the sound of chanting. The sound was composed only of male voices, but beside the mind traces of the men was the clear indication of many women, not to mention children. The chanting continued for a short while, then suddenly began to change from automatic word-speaking to more and more emotional shoutings. Some of the female minds began echoing the mental output of the men, their numbers growing until nearly all of them were a part of the waxing frenzy. The shouting increased to a higher and higher pitch, taking both shouters and listeners along with it, and then it abruptly broke off into dozens of individual groups wrapped up in the wildness of the moment.
It wasn’t difficult telling that an orgy was in progress, and one of the older bedinn whispered to us newcomers that first-day celebration was for hizahh and their women alone, bedinn being forbidden to do even so much as watch. After securing us, the male bedinn were themselves chained in a tent by the hizahh, to make sure the ceremony was undisturbed and unobserved. During the ceremony, both males and females stripped off their robes, entered the water, and began washing each other as the men chanted. The washing naturally led to other things, and the other things became the ceremonial orgy, the celebration of finding life-giving water in the midst of dead, ever-changing sand. The bedin who knew this had once been a tribe-member herself, as had a number of the other bedinn. Before the ceremony was over, this became very obvious from the way their bodies squirmed in place and their minds cried. The one realization that kept me from being swept away by their mass reaction and sharing it myself was the fact that while slaves were forbidden to watch the ceremony, children weren’t. I could feel their shallow, alien young minds watching avidly and felt myself cringing. To do such a thing in front of children!
Hours went by before the last of the celebrants left the bathing pool and it became possible for the male bedinn to be released who would in turn release us. I’d spent most of the time hiding under my shield to keep from rolling all over the cloth of the tent floor, but shielding alone had turned out not to be enough. I could and did close my eyes, but I couldn’t find a way to turn my hearing off. Between the sounds of the orgy outside and the moans of deprived women inside, I had more than a little trouble forcing my thoughts to the subject of escape. I couldn’t continue in the role of bedin and hope to be left with my sanity, so escape had been the one subject I’d thought most about. Escape into the deep desert would be no more than a gesture of suicide, and I’d been stopped cold until we’d reached the present oasis. Far in the distance, beyond the pebbled flats, a mountain range could just be seen. The sight didn’t seem to bring any thoughts of freedom to the other women, but to me it was a direction to travel in, an objective to reach, a jumping-off point on the long road home. I knew if I reached those mountains I’d have my freedom back, but thinking about escape was well-nigh impossible while my body screamed out its needs and demands. I could make others feel full satisfaction, but I couldn’t do the same for myself without leaving my body. The best eye surgeon in the Amalgamation might be able to operate on himself with a complex set of mirrors, but in my case the necessary mirrors didn’t exist. I could curse the hizahh for decreeing that I be “treated” with the other bedinn, but I couldn’t do anything to stop the suffering.
By the time the male bedinn came around to untie us, I was well past miserable and deeply into sullen. It had to have been close to midday outside, and the stink of sweating, yearning females all around was enough to make anyone ill. I couldn’t wait to get to that pool water to bathe, but that wasn’t the first item on the agenda as far as the male bedinn were concerned. They’d brought heaps of dirty laundry belonging to the hizahh, and washing that laundry was the first task given us. At that point I stupidly lost my temper and refused to do a thing until I’d had a bath, and that was when I learned the circumstances under which male bedinn had authority over female bedinn. The male bedinn never gave orders themselves; all they did was carry out and oversee the orders given by hizahh. In that instance, however, they were concerned with something that had to be done for the hizahh, and therefore had the right to punish without waiting for orders to do so.
I hadn’t yet reached that level of understanding when I was suddenly taken by the hair and dragged outside into the sun and sand, one bedin leading me, two others following. I was shocked and furious and apprehensive and indignant all at the same time, a mixture that usually proves impossible to work through. I paid for not staying calm and levelheaded by having those three bedinn take turns strapping me, stuffing a gag in my mouth, while my body was held taut across the horizontal trunk of a wide, broad-leafed shade tree, my wrists held by one of the bedinn who wasn’t at that time wielding the strap. I would have willingly done my share of the laundry long before they were finished, but I never got the chance to say so. Once it was all over I was tied to the trunk, well in the shade to keep my brains from boiling out of my skull, and was allowed to watch the other women do laundry and bathe at the same time. I hurt all over, and I felt abysmally stupid, but worst of all I had to do without a bath. That made me cry more than the beating had, and made me not even want to bother with pain control.
There was little more than an hour left to sundown when the male bedinn came back, but they weren’t alone. The hizah Kednin strolled along with them, his white veil set beneath his eyes, his white robes full and flowing, his mind hard and definitely displeased. As soon as I was released from the tree trunk I knelt in the sand and bowed, very much aware of the feelings passing through the man’s mind as he looked at my naked body. I’d been able to see the mountain range more clearly in the daylight, but the man I bowed to had the power to make my escape impossible—or useless. I felt a shiver touch me in the waning heat, and the hum of interest in the man’s mind increased.
“This one may do after all,” he murmured to the male bedinn standing around him, his eyes an almost physical weight on my back. “Bathe her thoroughly, then bring her with the others.”
He turned then and strode off without waiting for an answer, and wasn’t wrong in believing he didn’t need one. The answer the bedinn made was immediately obeying his command, the best answer they could have given. I was dragged to the pool and into it, then bathed quickly and very thoroughly by the one who entered the water with me. Having your face washed with a veil over it is a fascinating experience, but not nearly as fascinating as getting a thorough bath from a man who doesn’t care what he does to you. I screamed and struggled while the two watching bedinn laughed in amusement, then was carried back to the bedin tent over the shoulder of the one who had bathed me. If I’d had my sandals or if a hizah hadn’t commanded that I be satisfactorily clean, I would at least have been allowed to walk.