for a single occupant. It is small. In it, commonly, the slave may not stand, or stretch her body to its full extent. Too, it is closely barred. The slave, for the closeness of the bars, cannot be well seen within it. The smallness of the cage makes it possible for several cages to be stored in a given area. Some are designed in such a way that they may be fastened together, even stacked. The exposition cage is quite different. It is quite large. In it a slave may stand, and move about with ease. The bars, too, are widely spaced, though not so widely spaced that a girl may slip between them, to enable customers, passers-by, and others, to enjoy a relatively unimpeded view of the goods to be offered later in the day. A girl may be called to the bars, for a closer inspection, and she must, if commanded, smile, pose, assume various positions, and such, that she may be the better assessed. A girl dares not demur. The lash is always at hand. Some of the girls try to attract the attention of various fellows, usually young, handsome fellows, or those in richer robes, with presumably heavier purses. Occasionally a fight breaks out in the cage, as one slave may have, perhaps inadvertently, obstructed a possible buyer’s view of another, or have thrust another aside, to present herself in her stead, or such. The slaves are to speak little in the cage, either to one another or to the men outside the bars. We may answer questions, as to our training, our origin, our fluency in Gorean, and such things. The standard phrase we are permitted is the ritual phrase, “Buy me, Master.” Each of us is marked, her lot number inscribed in grease pencil on her left breast. I was told that my number was 119. Barbarian slaves are commonly kept illiterate. There were several of us in the cage, perhaps more than was appropriate for suitable viewing, but the sale, I had gathered, was a large one, which would last several Ahn. Apparently many slaves were being purchased for transportation beyond Brundisium, by one or more mysterious buyers to whom, it seemed, price was not a matter of particular concern. Accordingly, the various houses represented in the sale were anxious to participate in so attractive a market. Many slaves, too, had been brought to Brundisium as a consequence of political events which, it seems, had taken place in the south. An unusual market situation had accordingly come about, one in which goods were relatively abundant while prices, interestingly, remained relatively stable, this apparently because of buyers rich in coin who wished to conduct their affairs with dispatch, and be on their way.
He had called me to the bars of the exposition cage.
It was he!
For a moment it was hard to breathe. I could barely move. For days, weeks, I had hoped to see him, sought to see him, and now I had been summoned to the bars! I feared I might grow weak, and fall. It was hard to breathe. It was almost like the first time I had seen him, but now I was on his world, not mine, and I, nude, a young kajira, viewed him through the bars of an exposition cage. It seemed I could not move, but then I approached the bars, not well, I feared. I wanted to throw myself to my belly, and reach through the bars, and touch him, and beg him to purchase me. Did he not know I was his slave, from the first moment I had seen him? But to my dismay I saw he did not recognize me. He did not know me! I meant nothing to him! Surely he must once have found me of interest, or I would not have been brought here, or the kef would not have been burned into my thigh, but he might have found hundreds of similar interest. What was I to him but another item in a ledger, another small, sleek beast, another piece of meat, slave meat?
I wanted to speak to him, but the words had not come.
Perhaps I should have cried out in bitterness, denounced him, and shaken the bars in helpless, futile rage, but I did not.
Was it not he who had looked upon me, and had seen fit to bring me to bondage?