so. The slave, like the dancer, is attentive to her posture, her carriage, her grace.
She is not entitled to the prerogatives of the free woman. She is owned.
“We will sell them on the coast,” said Darla. “Ho! Move!”
The first stroke of Tuza’s switch was across the left shoulder, and the second a lashing sting across the back of the thighs. Small sounds of pain escaped us. I was last in our small coffle, and thus the first struck, and then Mila and Tula. We hurried. Tuza would not be sparing with her switch.
“Keep our pretty pack beasts moving,” said Darla.
Tuza’s switch fell again.
“Harta!” said Tuza. “Harta!”
“You see, dear Tuza,” said Darla, “how much more swiftly we can move with a third bearer.”
“Harta!” said Tuza.
“We will cover pasangs before dark,” said Darla.
“I am hungry for cooked food,” said Hiza.
“Harta!” said Tuza. “Harta!”
Gagged as we were, we could not cry out for mercy. Tears streamed down our faces. Tiny sounds of pain escaped us, scarcely audible, as we were hurried on, more and more quickly, the river to our left.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I do not understand it,” said Axel.
“The trail is still clear,” I said.
“Yes,” said Axel.
“It turns back, toward Shipcamp,” I said. One could tell this from the sun.
“Is she of the Foresters?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Why do you ask?”
“It is a bold stratagem,” he said, “doubling back, to confuse the trail, though one unlikely to succeed, given sleen.”
“Doubtless,” I said.
“She is a bold one,” he said.
“How so?” I said.
“Consider the risks involved,” he said.
“True,” I said.
“I have known slaves, of course,” he said, “naive, ignorant, frightened slaves, who became confused, who knew little of woodcraft, who wandered about in the darkness, who became disoriented, who lost their way, and several who, amusingly, did little more than describe a great circle in their flight.”
“If the trail continues in this fashion,” I said, “it may reach the wands themselves.”
“I should not be surprised if it does,” he said.
“What then?” I asked.
“It will turn back, to the forest,” he said.
“Unless she has been taken by Pani,” I said.
“Yes,” he said, “or others.”
“Let us see,” I said.
“We shall,” he said.
He then shook the chain leash on the collar of Tiomines. “On, fellow,” he said.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I lay at the side of the camp, with Tula and Mila. We were bound, hand and foot. We had been freed of the gags when the campsite had been determined, toward evening, but silenced by the will of the mistress, so that we might utter no sound. They did not fear that we might be heard, in such a way that their presence might be detected. Rather, this was now a convenience for the mistresses, who did not wish to hear the discourse of slaves. Would herdsmen, or drovers, care to hear the discourse of kaiila? Slaves, of course, save in critical situations, as in emergencies, may not speak without permission. To be sure, most slaves have a standing permission to speak, particularly when alone with their masters, but it is always clear to them that this standing permission is a permission, and that it may be revoked at the master’s pleasure. Slaves, of course, as other women, love to speak, and suffer when not permitted to do so. They are denied one of the loveliest and most precious of their pleasures, and gifts. It is a torment to a slave to not be permitted to speak. Most masters love to hear their slave speak, are interested in her slightest thoughts, and often attend to her views. But, when all is said and done, she may be simply bound and thrown to the furs.
Naturally I had tried the knots on my wrists and ankles, but found them, as I had anticipated, of Gorean efficiency. Struggle would be futile.
In one sense, the slave is helpless and defenseless, for she may not so much as touch a weapon. In some cities it is a capital offense for her to do so. In another sense, of course, she is not wholly defenseless; she obviously has the weapons of her sex, her desirability, and beauty, and, it should be noted, as well, and not negligibly, those of her wit and tongue. How often her speech, with her submissive posture, her tearful eye, her extended hand, her trembling lip, serves to placate, to divert wrath, to enable her to escape the switch and whip! Then suppose she is denied speech. How then is she to explain herself, to supply details which may have been overlooked,