“You must be very stupid,” she said, “to run away. You are kajira. Do you not know that there is no escape for a kajira? But then you are a barbarian, and all barbarians are stupid.”
“I am not stupid,” I said.
“Surely you must feel stupid,” she said, “to be led back here on a leash for all to see, naked and braceleted, like a tethered verr.”
“I do feel stupid,” I said.
“You did a very stupid thing,” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “I did a very stupid thing.”
“Perhaps you are not stupid,” she said. “Perhaps you were only a fool.”
“I was a fool,” I said.
“Perhaps you are no longer a fool,” she said. “Perhaps now you know you are a slave, and that there is no escape for you.”
“Yes,” I said, “I now know I am a slave, and that there is no escape for me — Mistress.”
“‘Mistress’?” she said.
“Yes,” I said, “for you are superior to me. You are a private slave, and I am only a camp slave.”
“We are both only slaves, Laura,” she said.
“I want to be a slave!” I said.
“We all want to be slaves,” she whispered.
“Enough of the meaningless chatter of bond sluts,” said Axel. Then he turned to my captor. “I will report the capture of the slave to the magistrates,” said Axel. “You will see to her keeping.”
“I will do so,” said my captor.
“May I accompany Master Axel?” inquired Asperiche.
“Yes,” said my captor, “heel him closely and well.”
“I shall,” she said, happily.
How willingly and light-heartedly, I thought, did the slave follow Master Axel. Surely my captor must have noticed this. Would he not be concerned? I was made uneasy. Aside from raids, warfare, and such, the exchange of kajirae normally takes place in a civilized manner, with negotiation, and buying and selling, and such. But, occasionally, I knew exchanges took place by means of the negotiation of blades, particularly on the open road or in the fields, outside walls, beyond the jurisdiction of archons and praetors. I supposed the weapon skills of my captor and Master Axel would be similar. Few men, I was sure, saving perhaps workmen, some mariners, and such, had been hired north without the assurance that they possessed one or another of the dark skills. Some here, I speculated, might even be of the caste of Warriors, though in such a case, perhaps renegades or exiles, possibly men who had fared badly in city revolutions, even men who may have forsworn Home Stones or betrayed codes, desperate men, dangerous men. And I did not see my captor as one with whom one might trifle with impunity. Was he not concerned with the behavior of his slave? What master would not be? Had Asperiche been sold? No, she had knelt before my captor, kissed his feet, and addressed him as ‘Master’. Might my captor be thinking of ridding himself of her? Might he be interested in some other slave? Might I be she? But Asperiche was beautiful! But Gorean males, depending on their means, may have more than one slave. The pleasure gardens of Ubars and high merchants might house innumerable slaves, even slaves purchased by agents, slaves of whom their masters might not even be aware. I had heard of a Mintar of Ar who owned more than a thousand slaves, though most were chained in his mills. There were city slaves, too, of course, in the high cities, in their brief gray tunics and gray metal collars. I hoped my captor wanted me. How I would strive to please him, in all the ways of the meaningless, abject slave! How I longed to be the single slave of a private master! I did not think it could be borne, that I might share my master with another. I trusted that lovely Asperiche would not be the cause of bloodshed between Master Axel and my captor. It is strange, I thought, how Gorean masters, before whom we are negligible, at whose feet we are nothing, who hold us in the lofty contempt of a free person, will kill for us. Are we then so meaningless, truly? But, I thought, Master Axel and my captor are friends. Surely they would not draw steel on one another. But Asperiche was very beautiful. Even on behalf of lesser women, I supposed, edged steel might suddenly divide friends. But perhaps my captor was not determined to retain Asperiche. Was she not a bauble, as any slave, which might be bestowed as a master