and mockery from her chain sisters. “Where are your robes and veils?” she was asked. “Did I not see you well-siriked of late?” asked another. “I thought, two days ago,” said another, “I saw you chained by the neck, naked, to the wall.” “If she has caste,” said another, “her thigh will be bare.” “See her thigh!” exclaimed another. “It is marked!” said another. “Ah, my dear,” said another. “Then you are only a lying slave.” “Slave girls may not lie,” said another. “I fear you must be punished,” said another. “Please, no!” the girl had cried, but the others had then seized her, thrown her to the straw, and beaten her. Thereafter she spoke no more as though she might still be free. I had gathered that many might resent the Merchants, envying their wealth. It was said they raised nothing, and made nothing, but were brigands without lairs, bandits who looted without risk, men who drew blood with knives of gold. Membership in the Merchants, of course, might range from itinerant peddlers to the masters of great houses, dealing with a dozen cities. The Merchants regard themselves, with justification I would think, as a high caste, but few Goreans number them amongst the high castes, which, traditionally, are taken to be five in number, the Initiates, Builders, Physicians, Scribes, and Warriors. None, I suppose, would dispute with the Warriors that they are a high caste. If the Merchants are not a high caste, it is clear they are an important caste. It is said they own councils and sway law, that their gold hides and whispers behind thrones, that cities heed their words, that Ubars are often in their debt. Doubtless amongst the Merchants, as amongst other men, one will find the astute and honorable, the honest and diligent, the noble and loyal, as well as the corrupt and greedy, the cruel and callous, the venal and heartless. The girl before me might once, I supposed, if of the high Merchants, or such, as she claimed, have been wealthy. But now she was a portion, a negligible portion I would suppose, of the wealth of another. How lost she was amongst us, so isolated and alone, reduced from her former status, and despised by her sister slaves. No wonder, I thought, that she might have broken in the strain, and irrationally, so foolishly, tried to run toward the stairs. Did she expect to ascend them, and thrust her hands through the bars of the gate, and elicit pity; did she think the gate would be opened, and she would be released?
Did she not know that there was no escape for the Gorean slave girl, and that that was now what she was?
Did she think she had been branded to be freed?
She had been branded to be purchased, and put to use.
Certainly there was no escape for me. Where was there to escape to? And certainly my body, with its mark, proclaimed me a slave. And, I supposed, sooner or later, I would wear a collar.
I did not fear the collar. I knew I belonged in one.
It would be locked on me, and I could not remove it. It would publicly, and appropriately, proclaim me slave, and, most often, would identify a master, whose property I was. Sometimes, if one is given a name, the name, too, will appear on the collar. “I am so-and-so, the slave of so-and-so.” “I am so-and-so, so-and-so owns me.” “I am so-and-so, the property of so and-so.” Sometimes the collar is quite simple, as in “I am owned by so-and-so,” “I am the property of so-and-so,” or merely “Return me to so-and-so,” or such.
Had I a choice, I knew whose collar I would beg to wear. But I would have no choice; I was a slave.
The typical collar was practical and informative, light and comfortable, and attractive. I wondered sometimes if free women did not envy us our collars. They much enhanced the beauty of a woman, aesthetically, and, of course, in their significance. They arouse men, and have their effect on the woman, as well. Do they not inform her of what she is, and what she is for?
I knew that I was different from some, at least, of the other girls. Unlike some of them, I had known I was a slave, even on Earth. Doubtless, in time, they, too, would come to understand that they were slaves, and had always been slaves, lacking only the master and the collar. They