large and complex forces, each of which might well have spies in the camp of the other, perhaps even highly placed spies.”
“I recall,” he said.
“I think you are such a spy,” said my master.
“Possibly,” he said.
“For whom do you work?” asked my master.
“I do not know,” he said.
“You are hired through agents,” said my master.
“Of course,” he said.
“To what end?” asked my master.
“To inquire into the doings of Tyrtaios, and others,” he said, “to see if deceit is practiced, to see if there is treachery amongst the Pani, to see if the cards are marked, the dice weighted.”
“And it is so?” said my captor.
“As you have confirmed,” he said.
“And what is to be done?” asked my master.
“Nothing now,” said Axel. “It is too late. The ship is upon the river.”
We looked after the ship, which was now gone from sight. There was only the empty river, quiet in the morning sun, and the cries of some birds, fishing, skimming its surface, sometimes diving under the water, and there was smoke, here and there, drifting about. It seems there had been fires in the vicinity.
“Are you a spy?” asked Axel.
“No,” said my master.
“I wish you well,” said Axel.
“I, too, wish you well,” said my master.
Asperiche hurried to me and kissed me. “I wish you well, Laura,” she said. “And you are very beautiful.”
“I wish you well, Asperiche,” I said, kissing her. “And you are very beautiful.” I could not hold her, as my hands were braceleted behind me.
“Hoist my pack,” said Axel to Asperiche.
“Yes, Master,” she said, happily, and slung it about her shoulder.
Shortly thereafter Axel made his way up from the bank, south, into the forest, heeled by his slave. Tiomines rubbed his snout, head, and coat against the thigh of my master, and then, turning about, padded away, in the wake of Axel and his slave, Asperiche.
My master turned to face me.
“No,” he said. “Do not kneel. Turn away.”
I felt the key inserted into the bracelets, and they were removed from my wrists. I then turned about, to face him.
He pointed to the ground, and I knelt.
“Do you think you are a tower slave?” he asked.
“I do not know what sort of slave I am,” I said.
“Get your knees apart,” he said. “Widely! More widely!”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Do you now know what sort of slave you are?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said. There was now no doubt about that. I was frightened, but excited and thrilled, as well. How frightening it is to be wanted, wanted not as a free woman is wanted, but wanted as a slave is wanted, to be wanted with all the power and force, and uncompromising authority, that a slave is wanted! And yet, too, what woman would wish to be less wanted? What woman does not wish to be so desired that she will be collared and possessed? A slave is many things to her master. Among them is his beast and pet, his plaything. I hoped he would not be difficult to please. I did not wish to be whipped.
“I grant you a standing permission to speak,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said. “I thank you for saving my life. I thank you for freeing me of the bracelets.”
“You will wear them frequently,” he said.
“As Master wills,” I said.
“Do you think to escape?” he asked.
“No, Master,” I said. “I am collared, tunicked, and marked. There is no escape for me.”
“Do you fear me?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said. How small, helpless, and weak I felt, kneeling before him. I was a scion of a far world kneeling before a Gorean master.
“It is well,” he said, “that a slave fear her master.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You well humiliated me in the camp of Genserich,” he said, “with the tortures of the provocative slave girl.”
“Forgive me, Master,” I said.
“The men of Genserich were much amused,” he said.
“I was angry,” I said. “You had turned away from me! You had scorned me. I hated you. I wanted to make you suffer! I wanted to have my vengeance on you!”
“You do not seem so forward, so bold, so impudent, so insolent now,” he said.
“I am not, Master,” I said. “Is it true you bought me?”
“Yes,” he said.
“May I inquire for what sum?”
“You vain she-tarsk,” he said.
“Master Axel paid a gold tarsk for Asperiche,” I said. “Perhaps you were as keen to buy Laura.”
“Do not flatter yourself,” he said.
“What did you pay?” I asked.
“The standard Pani price for changing the collar of a camp slave,” he said. “Two