Ubara of Gor Chapter Five

Chapter Five: The Exchange

“The island of Cos has sent a lot of men, Mistress,” I said as I gazed out past the harbour inlet to the sight of the great Cosian warship. Although by tradition and the rules of the Bastion each party to the ransom was only permitted to assemble 23 men with weapons on the landing jetty of the main isle, Captain Matias Thiago Alejandra of Telnus, Third Sword to the city and Sea Admiral of the Second Fleet of Cos, had decided to make a show of force on board his vessel as it lay anchored at sea facing the Bastion. There were maybe three hundred professional warriors of Cos formed up in ranks with shields, crested helms and glittering spear tips. The ship was fitted out with engines of war – ballistae and catapults on the various decks, and a shearing blade that might cripple an enemy vessel by breaking its oars upon contact. I had been told by Tijani that the ship was called the Vengeance.

“They do seem to be making a point of displaying the might of the Cosian army,” said Yishana as she walked across the causeway from the harbour inlet where the Larl was now anchored. She was accompanied by Tijani, Kerim Shah and twenty one Askaris. Being a slave-girl, I didn't count towards the numbers allowed on the landing jetty.

Matias Thiago had erected a great billowing pavilion of brightly coloured silk, and he now sat under this sun shade with his honour guard of 23 Cosian warriors as he awaited us. In addition to his retinue of men he had three luscious slave-girls curled at his feet, each one chained by the collar to a central ring fixed to his curule chair. He was also accompanied by a free woman dressed in the caste colours of the Physicians. Several flag poles had been set on the jetty displaying the flags and banners of Cos. There was also a small treasure chest sitting on the floor beside his feet.

Grigor Sanson stood close by as mediator, in the company of twelve of his armed men. He opened his arms in welcome and gave Yishana a bright smile as she stepped off the causeway and on to the jetty proper. The jetty was quite large and was commonly used for the prisoner exchanges as strangely enough the various parties involved preferred to meet in the open and not for example in the confines of the impregnable fortress high atop the rock peak, from which it is said escape is impossible.

“Lady Yishana. Once again you grace my home with your beautiful countenance,” said Grigor warmly. His eyes flicked once again to Yishana's unveiled face. As always he was drawn to those ripe lips of hers, lips that parted slightly, sensuously as she smiled. Yishana was dressed in beautiful flowing gowns that she had looted from a recent merchant ship that had been unlucky enough to have been spotted by the Larl.

“Tal Grigor. You are well I trust?”

“Oh yes, Lady. Happy and content with the fine commission I shall earn today.”

Yishana nodded and moved to the other side of the wharf. She had brought no fancy pavilion of fluttering silk, but rather she stood facing the Cosian group. Her Askaris moved around her in a crescent formation, holding short thrusting spears and shields. Kerim Shah took position to the right of Yishana, while Tijani stood to her left.

“You are Captain Matias Thiago Alejandra of Telnus, I presume?” said Yishana as she gazed at the man seated in the curule chair. “You are Third Sword to the city of Telnus, Sea Admiral of the Second Fleet of Cos, and honourable Free Companion to the Lady Saffia Luna Josefina Alejandra?”

“Yes,” said Matias as he slowly rose from his chair. “And you must be the half naked slut who presumes to attack Cosian ships in the open waters of the Thassa?”

Yishana smiled. “I do not 'presume' to attack Cosian ships. I do so quite successfully in fact.”

“I have a message for you from Lurius of Jad,” said Matias as he walked forward to the point where one of two parallel dividing lines had been painted along the depth of the wharf. Each line was the terminating point to which one of the parties could stand. The space between the two dividing lines was slightly wider than the optimum thrusting distance for a tall Gorean warrior armed with a war spear. Lurius of Jad is a corpulent and disgusting man, dripping with gold adornments. He is said to eat his body weight in soft pastries on a regular basis. He also happens to be the supreme ruler of the city of Jad on the isle of Cos, and Ubar of Cos as a whole. He is apparently very rich and very powerful.

And fat.

Very fat.

“No doubt he wishes me well and requested that you bring me fine gifts as a token of his admiration?”

“He did ask me to bring you a gift, bitch of the Thassa.” Matias kicked open the small treasure chest, lifted a small velvet sack and threw it and its contents across the dividing lines. The bag struck the planks of the wharf and slid to a stop maybe seven feet away from Yishana. She didn't move, but one of the Askaris went to pick it up. At a nod from Yishana the man opened the bag and produced a common slave collar.

“It is inscribed with the name Yishana,” said Matias. “Yishana, slave-girl of Jad. You can put it on now, or you can wait until I force you to your knees and collar you myself.”

Yishana gazed at the collar with an amused turn of her lips. “Thank the obese lump of lard that threatens to crush the throne of Cos under his mounds of fat, and tell him in turn that Yishana, Ubara of the Black Coast, chosen Avatar of Nakeisha the wind-rider, looks forward to introducing many more of his trading ships to the exotic gardens that grow on the sea bed.”

“You dare to insult the Ubar of Cos,” snarled Matias. “For that you will receive thirty lashes after your enslavement.”

“I tremble with fear,” said Yishana in a mocking tone. “Have you brought my money, you preening Cosian monkey?”

“Two hundred golden tarn discs. Yes, I have brought it.” Matias reached down into the small treasure chest again and pulled out four heavy sacks, each one presumably containing fifty gold coins minted in Cos. Cosian gold is said to be of a high standard, like the gold of Ar. Its coins are generally well regarded as hard currency throughout Gor. “I advise you to spend it quickly, bitch, for you will soon be crawling at my feet, kissing and licking my boots and begging me to enslave you while your crew lie dead around you and your ship burns.”

“Oh?” Yishana gazed at the four sacks that were now being passed to Grigor's scribe intermediaries. “I thought this was neutral territory here on the Bastion, and that no swords or spears may be raised in anger?”

“That is true,” said Matias, “but know this, your ship the Larl will have to leave the harbour eventually, and when it does the Vengeance will pursue you, and once outside the territorial waters of the Bastion we will hunt you down and kill your men to a man. The Vengeance is aptly named.”

Yishana simply smiled. Kerim Shah was expressionless, standing to her right. Only Tijani seemed a little perturbed by what he was hearing.

“Captain, can we please dispense with threats for the time being,” said Grigor pleasantly. “We do after all have business to conduct.” His men were now opening the sacks and laying out the coins on a long table covered in white samite cloth. Scales and measuring equipment had been set up to verify the quality of the gold.

“I want to see her,” said Matias. “Bring her out.”

“But of course,” said Grigor. He snapped his fingers, and from a small stone built building the Lady Saffia Luna Josefina Alejandra emerged. She was escorted honourably by two of Grigor's men. She was dressed still in her original robes and gowns, the ones that had ben neatly trimmed to mid calf length by Yishana's slaves, and were by now even more ragged and pitiful looking after six weeks of incarceration. She was barefoot and she was angry for she sensed her freedom was at hand and she was determined to express all the anger that she had been too frightened to show since being captured.

“My Saffia,” said Matias, seeing her at last. Saffia made to run to his arms, but was quickly held in check by Grigor's guardsmen who gently but firmly seized her wrists on either side.

“Unhand me!” she snarled. “Unhand me, or you will suffer the wrath of the Cosian navy!”

“Patience, my dear Saffia,” said Matias soothingly. “Let them count the gold and then we shall be reunited once more.”

Saffia stamped her right foot in irritation, but held as she was she could do little else.

“You look well, Lady Saffia,” said Yishana pleasantly. “Your ankles and calves look a little fatter than before. I assume Grigor has therefore fed you well?”

“I do not have fat ankles or calves!” cried Saffia. She quickly glanced down at her bare lower legs, worried that they might indeed be looking plumper than before. In fact Yishana was teasing the woman. Saffia's lower calves and ankles were really quite exquisite as far as I could see.

“The gold is in order,” said Grigor happily as he received word from his scribes tasked with checking its quality.

“Before the exchange takes place,” said Matias, “I need reassurance that my Lady has not been spoiled in any way.”

Saffia bristled at the suggestion she might be 'spoiled'.

“I understand,” said Grigor. “But I can assure you that the word of the Bastion is sacrosanct. Once a woman is rendered into our care, she is not violated in any way.

“And what of before?” said Matias as he gazed at Yishana. “I need to know this bitch didn't give Saffia to any of her savage black Askaris.”

“I did not,” said Yishana. “You have my word on that. Sadly my men are far too fussy and she wouldn't meet their exacting standards in the furs.”

“She-urt!” screamed Saffia at Yishana, as she struggled to break free of the grip of Grigor's men again. “My beloved will whip you on your knees into a paga tavern where you will spend the rest of your miserable life pleasing the sailors of Jad!”

“I probably wouldn't have much work to do then as I have heard that the sailors of Jad would probably prefer the intimate company of other sailors of Jad,” said Yishana with an amused smile.

Now it was the turn of Matias to be equally outraged. “Oh, you will pay for that, woman! You insult the honour of Jad's navy!”

“Navy is a far too generous term for your collection of barely seaworthy leaky tubs,” said Yishana, obviously enjoying this far more than Tijani was as he was looking very concerned with the way the Ubara was deliberately provoking the armed forces of Cos. “I've seen fleets of backwater fishermen with superior seapower. But in any event, your Cosian slut hasn't been violated.”

“You word carries no weight with the people of Cos. I have brought a physician. She will examine the Lady Saffia for any signs she has been violated.”

“You are welcome to do so,” said Yishana, “but I'm not sure what signs you could possibly find. She was in my care over six weeks ago. If any of my men had enjoyed her, there would be little sign of it by now.”

“The Lady Saffia was untouched when I last saw her. She has never endured the shame of sexual congress. I expect her to be in the same condition now.”

Yishana looked up, surprised. “She is white silk?”

“That is a vulgar term,” said Matias. “Not appropriate for one as well bred as her.”

“But she is your free companion? You have renewed the vows on two separate occasions? You have therefore been together for at least three years?”

“What of it.”

“Am I to understand you have never touched her in that time?” asked Yishana.

“Of course not. She is my modest free companion. She is with me in modesty, chastity and gentleness. And in any case, I have many slaves at hand for when I wish sex.”

Lady Saffia was blushing as her condition was being discussed like this.

“You are white silk?” said Yishana, incredulous, as she turned to face Saffia.

The girl sobbed slightly. “Please... I am not comfortable with this conversation. It is not appropriate!”

“My apologies, my dear,” said Matias, “but you understand I must ensure they haven't done anything to you. It is for the good of your honour and the good name of your family.”

“And what if I was touched, sweet, noble Matias, the love of my life? Surely you would still ransom me?”

“Of course not,” said Matias. “What a foolish thing to suggest. Imagine your shame if you had been sullied? No, impossible. I could not ransom you in such a condition!”

“I have not been touched!” protested Saffia, though I could see she was moved to tears by the thought of how she might be abandoned if she had been.

“She has not been touched,” said Yishana. “Should you find she has been, I will sell her to you for a single copper tarsk bit.”

Matias stared at Yishana. “That is a slave price,” he said. “and a cheap one at that.”

“Can she be anything else if you find she has been sullied?” suggested Yishana.

“No, I suppose not.” Matias nodded.

I felt sorry for Lady Saffia now, weeping silently as she was. And then she was examined. To her shame she had to be examined by Matias's physician in the full view of Yishana and her confidantes, for otherwise it might be possible for the physician to violate Saffia in some way if they did not wish to pay the ransom. Obviously the Askaris were told to look away though, which they did.

“Please no,” begged Lady Saffia as a silk screen was erected so that the warriors of Cos might not see what happened next. 

The free woman in the caste colours of the physicians who attended Lady Saffia seemed quite brusque and authoritarian as she ordered Saffia to disrobe and lie on a table that had been set up behind the silk screen. At first Saffia refused, and only when the physician threatened to send a man of Cos to disrobe her, did she with trembling motions, unfasten the clasps of her torn gowns. We all watched on Yishana's side as the woman was forced to undress before us. And then, once she was told to lie down on the examination table, with her legs spread wide, an official examination was made to determine she was still a virgin. It only took a couple of ehn, and some whimpers from the Lady Saffia before the physician proclaimed her inviolate. It seems Yishana had indeed been telling the truth.

“My darling Saffia,” said Matias, far more warmly than before, from the other side of the silk screen. “Believe me when I say I did not truly doubt your chaste purity for a moment...”

“Oh, Matias!” She made to run to his loving arms but sadly was restrained by the wrists again.

“Tender and touching as this beautiful moment is,” said Grigor Sanson, “I think we are now ready to proceed to the business transaction itself.” He was eagerly anticipating a hefty commission of twenty gold tarns for this day's work. “I believe the noble Admiral has certified the purity of his good Lady, and you my dear Yishana are satisfied that the gold has been accounted for and verified? So...”

“But I'm not satisfied,” said Yishana pleasantly as something of an after thought.

“Not... satisfied?” If Grigor looked confused, so did Matias and indeed Tijani. “There is something wrong with the gold in question?”

“Indeed there is. It appears to have been minted in Cos,” said Yishana as she gazed at it with a scowl.

“But... of course it has, these are Cosians...” said Grigor in bewilderment.

“I've never liked Cosian gold,” said Yishana abruptly. “I have always suspected they add bosk urine to the minting process to improve the gold colour.”

“You dare insult the coinage of Cos!” snarled Matias as he seemed about to draw his sword. Only the presence of the spear armed Askaris and indeed Grigor's own men prevented him from doing so.

“Dearest Ubara, what are you doing?” said Grigor in politely expressed alarm as he quickly moved closer to Yishana.

“I require two hundred gold tarns of verified bullion minted in Ar, not Cos,” said Yishana as if her mind was now made up. “And as compensation for my wasted time today in dealing with this posturing buffoon in his silly admiral's hat, I will levy a fine of a further twenty golden tarns.”

“This is beyond the pale!” screamed Matias, his face red now in rage. “I did not come all the way from Jad to be insulted and mocked!”

“And yet it is so easy to insult and mock you when you come all the way from Jad,” smiled Yishana as she regarded her nails. “Normally with anyone else I would have to work hard at it.”

“Ubara? A moment of your time perhaps?” said Tijani in growing concern as he saw the grim faced visages of the Cosian warriors growing as angry now as their admiral.

“Not now, Tijani. I am having a pleasant conversation with the admiral.”

“I will have you dragged naked through the streets of Jad by your hair!” screamed the admiral. “Give me my woman! Give me my beautiful Saffia!”

“My dearest Ubara,” hissed Grigor quietly. “This is not how we do business at the Bastion! What is going on?”

“I am revising the terms of the ransom,” said Yishana simply as she gazed at him.

“You cannot do that!” he snarled. His pretence of being a jovial easy going fellow was gone now as he stared at Yishana in anger. “This will give the Bastion a bad name! I must insist... Lady...” he said the last word with a sense of scorn and derision as he gazed at her unveiled features, “that you honour the terms of the original ransom agreed and cease this display of petulance immediately.”

“Or?” asked Yishana as she stared Grigor Sanson down.

“Or? Or I am empowered to make a decision myself and act on your behalf to honour the original terms whether you like it or not. Do I make myself clear, woman?”

“Hmm.” Yishana laughed now, much to Grigor's surprise. And then she poked him in the chest with her finger. “Do that, if you dare to displease me. But understand this, I will then make it my new mission in life to hunt down and sink every ship that enters your harbour to do business with the Bastion. Word will soon get around and I promise you your citadel will become as popular as a leper colony during plague season that is trying to attract tourists. Do I make MYSELF clear? I am the Ubara of the Black Coast and I will deal as I wish, when I wish with the stinking curs of Cos in their leaky boats.” There was silence on the beach now for everyone had heard her words. Even Tijani had closed his eyes and was mouthing a silent prayer to the Priest Kings.

“You are insane,” said Grigor.

“Yes I am.” Yishana continued to stare at him without blinking. “I would worry about that if I were you.” All of her Askaris stared at Grigor as well.

“So,” Yishana turned back to face Matias. “The ransom is now two hundred golden tarns of minted gold from Ar and the fine for wasting my time has been increased to forty golden tarns on account of the fact I am a sensitive free woman whose meek demeanour is easily intimidated by insults.”

“Do you have any idea what powerful forces you have set into motion because of this...” said Matias with absolute hatred in his eyes now. “This is your very last chance woman. Give me my beloved now.”

“And the fine has just risen to sixty golden tarns. Run home to Jad, raise the money and return here to claim your precious Lady. Or leave her with me and I will see she is whored out at every coastal port we put into until she learns to beg for cock on her hands and knees.”

This was astonishing. I had never known a free woman as bold as Yishana, if not down right suicidal. The island ubarate of Cos would not stand for this kind of insult. Didn't she understand what she was doing? Beside her, Tijani looked like he was about to have a panic meltdown, but looking at the faces of the Askaris I couldn't see a single trace of fear. They believed in her one hundred percent. She was divine in their eyes. And that unshakable fervour that we all could detect in the Askaris meant that Matias didn't dare do anything here on the beach.

“Matias, beloved, do not leave me here, please, I beg you! They have me housed in a cold granite cell with narrow slits for windows! By day I gaze forlornly out to sea, despairing of my plight as the waves crash cruelly on the rocks below. My meals are horrible, fit only for tarsks and I must endure the poor service of a low bred slave girl untrained in the fine arts of grooming and bathing a free woman. She can barely speak common Gorean and requires constant beatings to improve her service. Furthermore I think she resents me.”

“My dear Lady,” said Matias as he stepped forward to take her soft gentle hands in his own. “I must ask you to endure these horrors with the fortitude that Cosian women are renowned for, for just for a little while longer. I will return with fresh coins minted in Ar and pay this wanton slut who calls herself a sea captain. And if but one hair on your fair head is harmed in any way I shall besiege this fortress with every vessel the Cosian navy has at its disposal.”

Grigor looked alarmed at the suggestion that his small island might be starved into submission by an entire Cosian fleet surrounding it.

“It will not come to that, Admiral,” he said quickly. “Your Lady will receive the finest hospitality possible while she awaits her ransom.”

“Matias, you have men here on the sands,” said Saffia. “They are fine men of Cos – warriors all! I beseech you to turn them loose on this cruel woman and her spearmen! Show them how unafraid the warriors of Cos are in the face of these savages.”

Matias stroked his drooping moustaches thoughtfully as he turned to regard the savage faces of the Askaris. There could be no doubting their morale and that they would fight to the very last man in defence of their Ubara. The numbers on each side were equal, and Matias possibly felt he would win, but at what cost? “Why chance an outcome that is not certain, dear Lady, when I can return in strength. Rest assured I will have this bitch whipped naked through the streets of Telnus then on through the countryside and through the streets of Jad itself. Then she will suffer for the outrages she has inflicted upon you.” He squeezed her fingers gently for reassurance.

“I cannot endure further weeks of imprisonment!” said Saffia as a beautiful tear welled in one eye. “I have to squat on a bucket to relieve myself. It is too much! And there is an urt in my chamber! I hear it at night when it is dark, scratching and nibbling. I fear to allow so much as a toe to peek out from my frayed blanket in case the urt nips at it for sustenance.”

“Strength, dear Lady. Fortitude! Soon your mocking laugh will be heard over the sound of sharp cracking whips as this pirate slut learns the errors of her ways.”

“That’s enough touching I think,” said Yishana as she motioned for Matias to step back away from the Lady Saffia. “You can stroke her extended fingers again when you bring me two hundred and sixty golden tarns of Ar. Until then you’ll have to content yourself with the sticky fingers of your burly sailors.”

“You will pay a thousand fold for all of this!” snarled Matias as he turned on her. But Yishana had already motioned for Saffia to be led back up the spiral path, back to her cell in the high tower of the Bastion, and now she turned her back dismissively on Matias and walked back down the shore towards her rowing boats. The Askaris filed alongside her in two parallel lines of spears.

“Would you mind explaining what all that was about, Ubara?” asked Tijani through gritted teeth as we walked back along the causeway.

“I am toying with my enemy,” said Yishana with an air of inscrutable mystery.

“Why is he your enemy? Why do you hate Cos so much? What is this leading to? I have concerns, Ubara.”

“Dismiss them from your mind, Tijani. I am after all divine. A mortal man will have little chance against me.”

“Ubara, with all due respect, we’re talking about the admiral of a Cosian fleet. This isn’t some rival pirate you’ve been insulting. That man wants your blood.”

“Good. Because I want his.” Yishana stepped onto the first row boat and indicated that I should join her. I knelt on the deck at her feet as Tijani stepped aboard too.

“I have never been a coward, Ubara, but I’ve never been suicidal either. This strikes me as suicidal.”

“You worry too much. Look at my Askaris – they do not share your concerns.”

“Why aren’t we rowing back to the Larl with a treasure chest containing two hundred tarns of gold? That is a lot of money.”

“And very soon we shall have two hundred and sixty tarns of gold. Do not question my strategy, Tijani. I work to a divine plan.”

I could see the frustration in Tijani's expression because everything seemed to come back in circles to the fact that Yishana was divine and that her will was the will of her tribal Goddess, yadda yadda yadda. It was hard to mount a rational argument without in turn bringing in to question her claim to be the avatar of the Goddess of the wind. I suspected that Tijani had a healthy scepticism for such things but knew he couldn’t voice them to Yishana. The woman obviously believed everything she said. But strip away all that nonsense about divinity and you’re left with the sobering fact that we had just insulted the naval might of Cos and her Goddess couldn't protect us because she didn't exist.

“I am supposed to be a tactician,” said Tijani. “You took me on board your ship because you valued my experience and advice and now you simply ignore it for this madness.”

“Fate is everything” said Yishana as she gazed at the sight of the Bastion receding into the distance. On the other side of the inlet sat the warship the Vengeance and it occurred to me that it might be wise to hurry back to the Larl and set sail before Matias perhaps decided to attack us in open waters. He was certainly angry enough and he outnumbered us in manpower two to one. The Cosian ship looked a lot more battle ready than we were and it was armed with an impressive array of long range weapons which the Larl lacked. Once Matias was on board the Vengeance he would be free to come after us. I suspected the Larl could outrun him for we were lighter in the water but I wouldn’t want to stake my life on it.

“So what now?” said Tijani. “What is your plan?”

“We carry on as before while the Cosian returns to Telnus to arrange for coins from Ar. When he comes back we will be ready to deal with him.”

“So you’re not going to then simply say you now want Brundisium coins or the coins aren’t freshly minted enough or the gold is not quite the right shade of gold?”

“Who knows,” said Yishana with a smile. “I am a woman. We are prone to irrational flights of fancy after all, aren't we?”

“Ubara, I can see this ending badly for all of us.”

Tijani of course had more to lose than me. I would simply have a new collar. He would be killed in a futile battle that he could never hope to win.

There must be something of the mariner in my blood for I never tire of the smell of the fresh salt water air. I leaned against the bow of the row boat as heavily muscled black Askaris strained at the oars pushing us forward out to sea towards the Larl. I was their figurehead, facing front at the bow as they rowed, gazing out at the ocean.

“Kajira,” said one of them and I raised my buttocks in appreciation. Several of them laughed and probably wanted to touch me, but their hands were busy with the oars.

“You have a good ass, kajira,” said one of the other men. I smiled as I gazed away from him and simply replied, “I know, Master.”

I had lost track of how long I had been on the Larl since being taken as captive from the Carcassonne. Long enough to sail up and down the Black Coast a couple of times and long enough for the Askaris to begin to develop a taste for me. I was still thrown onto my belly more often than not, taken rudely from behind with little opportunity to be complicit in my use, but gradually word was spreading amongst the crew that if you let the white skinned blonde haired barbarian take the initiative, why, what wonderful pleasures might ensue. I dipped my hand into the cold sea water as we closed in on the hull of the Larl and I imagined I was by a river bank tickling for trout as my father had once done on a rare family holiday to Scotland before he had abandoned us to live permanently on Gor as the famed warrior, Marcellus. I remembered being four years old and watching my father pull a large fish from the Scottish river. I remembered him laughing as he landed it, the fish wriggling on the river bank that was covered in heather. He cooked it that night with garlic, thyme, oregano and parsley in the little cottage we had rented for the weekend away and I remember my mother curled up on the threadbare sofa, dressed in a thick woollen sweater, a long maxi skirt and an ankle ring as my father cooked the trout and she drank a glass of red wine watching him all the while with dark rimmed eyes full of longing. She had seemed happy, my mother, having her husband back. He had been gone for nine months. I know now he had been on Gor, fighting for the Priest Kings, but at the time I believed he was a soldier posted overseas.

It was the last memory I have of my mother being truly happy.

“Kajira.” Kakussa called out and approached me moments after I had hauled myself back onto the Larl. I stood there on the deck, Askaris filing past me from the row boats as Kakussa walked in my direction, his dark skinned body glistening with sweat in a rather attractive and masculine way. He held his assegai in his right hand, the tip of which he trailed along the deck. Kakussa had been practising with spear and shield towards the aft of the ship where thirty or so Askaris rehearsed battle lines. He seemed pleased with himself, his mouth split into that wide grin that showed off some impressively healthy white teeth contrasting with the darkness of his lips.

“Master,” I said as I dropped to my knees and lowered my gaze. “May a slave be of service?”

“I have something for you,” said the young man with pride. I waited as he crouched down to squat beside me. He reached out and touched my hair – the blonde sun bleached hair that always served to fascinate him. “There was a division of spoils this morning,” he said proudly. He referred of course to the loot taken from the last ship we had attacked earlier in the week. It had been easy to overtake it, laden with timbers and palm oil as it was, and the fighting had been brief and bloody. We were getting a fearsome reputation on the Thassa by now, meaning that vessels that did not fly Cosian flags often acquiesced with little in the way of resistance. In return Yishana would spare their lives and allow them to retain their vessel. If instead they fought, their ship wold be set alight after the men were butchered. The exception was always the oarsmen. Oarsmen in chains she would set free and if they wished, allow them to take the ship. By now there were probably a dozen former slave crews who plied the waters of the Thassa as free men with their own trade vessel. We actually came across some of them a month ago and they had cheered Yishana as the Larl had sailed past. Yishana had acknowledged their praise with a striking of her right fist against her left shoulder from the aft deck as she had sailed past. The cries of 'Yishana al Ghul' resonated from that ship of former slaves and I smiled in appreciation of what she had achieved. Of course those self same former slaves were now free to enslave women, so my appreciation was muted to a certain degree.

“Congratulations, Master.”

“Look, kajira. I took this.” He showed me a hinged arm ring of polished silver, engraved with intricate designs. It was beautiful craftsmanship and probably quite valuable. The bullion content alone was worth probably twenty silver tarsks or forty thousand dollars.

“It's beautiful, Master.” I blinked in surprise as I felt him slip the arm ring around my left arm and click it shut. I was suddenly adorned with forty thousand dollar's worth of silver. “Master?”

“You should be decorated with precious things, kajira,” he said grinning madly. “They look beautiful on your body.”

“But I can't wear this, Master! It could be taken from me!”

“Not on this ship. When a man asks you whose arm ring you wear, you tell them it is the arm ring of the spearman Kakussa of the Sangeesi, and you will say proudly that he will soon be a tenth spear and he will fight any warrior who removes his mark from your body.”

I smiled softly. Men do that sometimes, especially if they are young. It doesn't mean they aren't masters, it simply means they want to show off. Most masters secretly want the adoration of their slaves, although they will never admit it. They want beautiful slaves to be impressed and to boast about them.

Kakussa took hold of my upper arms and pressed kisses on my mouth, relishing the sweet taste of my lips. When he came up for air he seemed proud. “Tutanka was going to present you with a wrist cuff of silver, but I got to you first,” he said. “Tell Tutanka that I have already marked you. Show him the armlet with pride. Let Tutanka sulk in his paga.”

I laughed pleasantly and kissed him back. “I'm just a kajira, Master. There are plenty of us on this ship.” He laughed back, pulled me to my feet and quickly spanked my bare ass three times. I shrieked and stumbled a bit, drawing looks from several Askaris and a few of the girls. Then he span me around and kissed me again, this time running his hands over my breasts in the process. As I came up for air he bent to pick up the assegai spear that he had dropped on the deck.

“I will be a tenth spear soon, kajira. And then – who knows!” he backed away, bowing theatrically as he returned to the practice bout to the aft of the ship. “You wear the arm ring of a man who will be tenth spear! Rejoice!”

“Your popularity knows no ends.” said Naomi. She had crept up quietly while Kakussa had kept me occupied and regarded me with a switch in her hand.

“Do you object, Mistress?” I asked. Many first girls would, of course.

“No, kajira. If the men are happy then it makes my job easier. Just keep them happy and I will not have any objections.” She touched my lips with two of her fingers and then tapped me lightly on the thigh with her switch. “Your slave rouge is smudged. Tidy yourself up and then report to Asha. She will give you chores for the rest of the day. Har-ta, kajira! Har-ta!”

She lightly tapped my ass as I turned round and sped away.