Smugglers of Gor - By John Norman Page 0,143

said Aeson, regarding the slave.

It was surely true, whatever might once have been the case, that the slave was now incontrovertibly, and manifestly, female, indeed, helplessly and desirably so. It was hard to believe she had once been a Panther Girl. But are not all women pretty much of a muchness when stripped on a sales block? Is there that much difference, then, between a Ubar’s daughter and a barbarian recently brought from the sordid towers of an abused world, one recently removed from her slave capsule and branded?

“Today, lovely, tunicked Donna,” said the leader, “you will sip from the cup of vengeance.”

“Perhaps, Master,” she said.

“A wine sweeter than ka-la-na,” he said.

“I do not think it will be bitter,” she said.

“You were betrayed,” he said.

“Yes, Master.”

“And sold.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Doubtless you will be pleased to see them bound naked to selling poles on the coast,” he said.

“Why do you think they have been careless, why have they posted no scouts or guards?” she asked.

“They are stupid,” he said.

“I do not think they are stupid,” she said.

“They are thoughtless,” he said.

“In the sea,” she said, “perhaps there are currents, stirrings, and movements of which there is little evidence on the surface. Behind mountains there may be mountains. Who knows about the depths of the sea, the farther mountains?”

“A trap?” asked the leader, warily.

“Perhaps,” she said, “but for whom?”

“No animal lays a trap for itself,” said the leader.

“Many do,” she said.

“What animal would do that?” he asked, scornfully.

“One who wishes to be caught,” she said.

“Absurd,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, “it is absurd.”

“Let us make haste,” said Aeson.

“Bind her, hand and foot,” said the leader, indicating the lovely, scarlet-clad slave, to one of his men.

“Rather, Master,” begged the slave, “let me accompany the masters.”

“You wish to see the acquisition?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I do not want Genak encumbered with a leashed slave,” he said.

“Let me go, unleashed,” she said, “that I may lead the masters directly to the prey. Let me announce the acquisition.”

“You would like to do that, would you not?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Then it would be yours,” he said.

“Yes,” she said, “in a way.”

“You are a pleasant piece of slave meat,” he said. “I would not care to lose you.”

“You have tunicked me, Master, so that I might not escape, but would stand out in the forest.”

“And should you slip your tunic,” he laughed, “your sweet, pale body would stand out, as well.”

“I know escape is impossible for me,” she said, “as I am marked and collared, but I do not care to escape my master. I do not wish to do so.”

She pressed her cheek to his thigh.

“There is another reason I placed you in a scarlet tunic,” he said.

“Master?”

“It proclaims to all the world,” he said, “that you kick, moan, and squirm well.”

She put her head down. “I am my master’s slave,” she said.

“Relieve her of the leash,” he said. “And let her lead the acquisition.”

The fellow who was called Genak, in whose care she had been, unbuckled the leash from her neck.

She sprang up. “Follow me, Masters!” she said, in exhilaration.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Prepare to trek,” had said Tuza, and she had lifted her hand.

We had steadied our bundles. When she lowered her hand, we would move, making the first step with the left foot.

We had then heard a wild cry from our right, from amongst the trees. Tuza had not even lowered her hand. “Seize them!” we had heard, a woman’s voice.

She appeared to be a slave, but there were men behind her, seemingly several men.

“Seize them!” she had cried again, standing, pointing to our group. What exultancy, what triumph, had there been in that voice!

“Donna!” had cried Tuza.

Darla turned about, in her shackles, and fell. I saw a fellow bending over her, quickly lacing her ankles together. Emerald turned about and fled toward the river. Hiza sped down the back trail. A large fellow followed Emerald. I saw nothing of Hiza. Turning about I saw Tuza standing, stupefied. Her hands were raised, over her head. A hunting spear was at her breast. Her weapon belt was being cut from her. Emerald was now in the river, in the water to her waist, facing back toward the shore, facing her pursuer, so close to her. Her dagger had been drawn. She struck at the fellow but he seized her wrist, and disarmed her. They stood facing one another, apart. She rubbed her wrist, which must have been painful. He slipped her dagger in his own belt. She then, wildly, tried to throw

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