Smugglers of Gor

Chapter Thirty-One



The gags had been removed from our mouths, and we had been put to all fours. A sul was thrown to the ground before each of us. We might not touch it, until we had received the order to feed.

“Feed,” said Tuza, she of the green-and-brown talmit, who, I took it, was second in power in this small group of four, for the beasts do not count.

I put my head down, and fed, as did Tula and Mila.

We were not permitted to use our hands.

Such things help to remind us that we are animals.

We were then, on all fours, conducted to pools beside the river, where we were watered. We were then, on all fours, on our rope, conducted back to the clearing, where our gags were reaffixed.

I had returned inadvertently to the wands, and then fled, again. Not long after having fled from the wands, I had fallen captive to a small band of Panther Women, unaccountably in the vicinity of Shipcamp.

“We have that for which we have come,” said Darla. “Little was accomplished by the raid on Tarncamp, which was repulsed, and few desire to again encounter the sky cavalry of the enemy. It is unusual and formidable. But we, unlikely informants, unsuspected women, no army to be encountered, but a small band, invisible in the woods, as elusive as panthers, have penetrated the forest, and discovered what men had not, not only that the rumored ship exists, but its actual location, and that its departure is imminent. The blow must be struck soon, before the bird spreads its wings. No longer now is the employer blind, no longer now need he sustain the expense of maintaining large numbers of men at the mouth of the Alexandra. He may now organize and dispatch a small, chosen force, perhaps only two hundred men, to move with speed, and in secrecy, to emerge from the forest, burn the ship, and then withdraw, their task completed, no battle given. It will be a raid, unanticipated and effective, over and done with before the enemy fully comprehends what has occurred, before any defense can be mounted, after which the raiders will slip away, returning to the forest, long before any pursuit can be organized. Have no doubts. The employer will be pleased.”

“We will be well-paid,” said Tuza.

“Already, dear friend,” said Darla, “your wallet is heavy.”

“I do not trust men,” said another of the Panther Women, Hiza, whose dark hair was cut as closely as that of a metal worker.

“Let us move quickly,” said the fourth of the Panther Women, blond, broad-shouldered Emerald, looking uneasily toward the forest. It was she who had captured me, she who had easily snared the “vulo.” It surprised me that she, or any of these women, might be apprehensive. They were so different from myself, or the other slaves. It was hard to believe we were all women. We looked up at them from our knees. But we, of course, were slaves, rightful slaves. Certainly I knew myself such.

“Yes,” said Hiza.

“Soon,” said Darla, “perhaps by nightfall, we may build a fire.”

“Good,” said Hiza. “I hunger for cooked food.”

“We may then free the mouths of our little friends,” said Darla.

“But keep them silenced,” said Tuza, “by the will of the mistress.”

Tuza then, switch in hand, went to us, who were kneeling to the side, neck-roped, wrists crossed before us.

“You, Tula,” she said, jabbing her on the shoulder with the implement of discipline and instruction, “would you not like to expel the heavy, bulky wad of leather strapped in your mouth?”

Tula looked up, frightened. She made a single, tiny, pathetic, pleading sound.

The switch came down, fiercely, on her small shoulder. She almost separated her wrists, but fortunately did not do so. “How dare you speak without permission?” said Tuza.

“You inquired,” said Darla, not pleasantly.

I gathered there was ill-will between the captain of this small band and she who was, I gathered, her lieutenant.

“You saw,” snapped Tuza, “she raised her head, before a free person, without permission!”

“True,” said Darla. “Have the burdens redistributed.”

This was managed by Hiza and Emerald. One would not trust kaiila to arrange their own burdens.

“Stand up, here, in line,” said Darla.

I stood behind Tula and Mila, on the rope.

“You are no longer bound by the will of the mistress,” said Darla. We separated our hands. I would have preferred the mercy of cords, tying my hands together. Men, who are kinder, would almost always have used cords. We need not fear then that we might forget, or somehow, inadvertently, separate our wrists. It is much crueler, forcing us to be constantly vigilant, constantly in fear that we might find our wrists apart. But, too, I suppose, men like to look upon us bound. They find us attractive, constrained, helpless, at their mercy. But, too, how thrilling it is for us, as slaves, to know ourselves utterly helpless before males, our natural masters.

We steadied our burdens, on our heads, with our two hands.

“They are ready,” said Emerald.

“You are slaves,” said Darla. “Stand well.”

We did so. The slave, like the dancer, is attentive to her posture, her carriage, her grace.

She is not entitled to the prerogatives of the free woman. She is owned.

“We will sell them on the coast,” said Darla. “Ho! Move!”

The first stroke of Tuza’s switch was across the left shoulder, and the second a lashing sting across the back of the thighs. Small sounds of pain escaped us. I was last in our small coffle, and thus the first struck, and then Mila and Tula. We hurried. Tuza would not be sparing with her switch.

“Keep our pretty pack beasts moving,” said Darla.

Tuza’s switch fell again.

“Harta!” said Tuza. “Harta!”

“You see, dear Tuza,” said Darla, “how much more swiftly we can move with a third bearer.”

“Harta!” said Tuza.

“We will cover pasangs before dark,” said Darla.

“I am hungry for cooked food,” said Hiza.

“Harta!” said Tuza. “Harta!”

Gagged as we were, we could not cry out for mercy. Tears streamed down our faces. Tiny sounds of pain escaped us, scarcely audible, as we were hurried on, more and more quickly, the river to our left.