boats, one with two oars, and put me on my back, roughly, on the boards, at the bottom of the boat. The lower part of my body would then be between his feet, and partly under his seat.
He must then have freed the boat from its mooring, for he was wading beside it, thrusting it into the river, and then he entered the boat, took his seat, freed the oars, set them in place, and began to row.
As he was rowing he was facing me, naturally, and the closer shore. He could not see where the small craft was going without turning about. I, on the other hand, as I was situated, might I struggle to a sitting position, could see around him to the opposite shore.
I tried to struggle up a bit, to see, but his foot pressed me back to the boards. Yes, I thought, angrily, curiosity is not becoming in a kajira! So I lay back on the boards. I looked up. The sky was quite blue, and cloudless.
We had been some Ehn on the water, when I realized he was looking at me.
“You are a pretty package, partly tucked beneath the thwart,” he said.
“Where are we going?” I asked. “What are you going to do with me?”
He smiled.
“Yes, yes,” I said, “but we are curious!”
“But it is not becoming, is it?” he asked.
“No, Master,” I said. I roiled in frustration, with helpless frustration. The boards were rough, and hot from the afternoon sun. Our lives, our destinies, our fates, are in the hands of the masters! Do they think we have no interest in what is going on, in what is to take place, in what is to be done with us? I twisted futilely in the ropes, unanswered, uninformed.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
“How you torture us!” I said.
“How so?” he asked.
“Where are we going, what is to be done with me?” I cried.
“You are in a collar,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“One does not explain things to beasts,” he said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” I said. There are many sorts of things involved in this practice, of course. For example, in not explaining things to a slave it is made further clear to her, as if she needed further proof, that she is negligible, that she is a slave, an animal, a beast. Would one, for example, feel it incumbent on one to explain things to a sleen, a kaiila, or verr? Too, of course, if the slave is kept ignorant, or uninformed, one has much more control over her. She is more helpless, more at one’s mercy. But surely, too, the masters enjoy treating us as the slaves we are, in their thousand small ways. Is it not part of the pleasures of the mastery, finding amusement in keeping us in ignorance, in frustrating our desire to know? Why should we know, we are slaves! It is a small thing, but it is very real. So let us suffer in our unease, our anxiety, and our helpless frustration. Let it be so; we are slaves! But, too, I wondered, lying before him, bound, do we not want it so, and is it not pleasant in its way, finding ourselves helplessly subject to this deprivation and torment; is it not a reassurance to us that we are truly what we wish to be, slaves.
In a few more Ehn, I felt the bottom of the boat grate against the shore. The oars were drawn inboard, and my captor left the boat, and, wading, drew it high, onto the beach.
As I lay supine, apparently as my captor wished, I could see little but the inside of the boat, and the sky.
I did realize we were now on the southern shore of the river. So, I thought, I have, at last, managed to cross the river!
He then reentered the boat and undid the ropage which had bound my ankles and legs. The coils were then, in their several loops, cinched up, closely, about my waist. He lifted me over the side of the small craft and set me, standing, on the beach. I could feel the sand, and gravel, beneath my bare feet.
This was the first time I had been in a position to see the southern shore this closely. Some small boats were tied up on the shore, rather as they had been on the opposite shore. To one side, there was a steep wooden stairway, with broad steps, leading up from the beach to the level,