Kiera of Gor (13)

13: We arrive in Port Kar where the Lady Marissa is plainly shocked by the accommodation available to her. The mission for Samos becomes clearer to us all.

My mistress wasn't going to be happy with this, I thought, as we both gazed into the small compartment that was to be our new home in Port Kar in the short term. If anything it was actually smaller than the cramped space I had once rented in mega-expensive London just before I was enslaved and shipped to Gor. The room was partitioned with a folding screen down the middle to give the illusion that it might in actual fact be two rooms.

The section Marissa stepped into was big enough for a low writing desk, some scatter cushions and a cabinet. Behind the screen was a simple couch bed next to a small window that overlooked the other shared residential buildings and canal bridges of the city. Walkways intersected the stone buildings and as we gazed outside we saw two great tarns sweeping majestically through the city with Port Kar warriors armed with long spears astride the back of the birds. It was a sight I was still not used to as a girl from Earth. It was still difficult to come to terms with the fact that Gor was a relatively primitive world of swords and winged monsters and danger lurking around every corner.

My mistress was wearing her merchant caste colours today, which for her caste was white trimmed with gold designs. She wanted to make a good impression I think because applying for residency in a shared building block is something of an interview process as the other women wish to ensure that you are virtuous and unlikely to bring shame upon their house. She was therefore beautifully and properly dressed, gloved, heavily veiled with a full floppy hood and could only walk at a slow pace, so constricting were the layers of garments. I always liked it when she was heavily veiled because unless she was looking directly at me, she would have no idea through that narrow vision slit what I was doing. Her peripheral vision was non-existent. Brinn had been visibly impressed by how dignified she looked and had been particularly nice to her as a result. I began to discover that Brinn's treatment of a free woman depended very much on the degree of propriety she displayed. When she looked like this, Brinn was proud to be with her.

“Well it looks clean,” suggested Brinn helpfully. I think he too understood how cramped the accommodation was compared to Marissa's expensive apartment in Corcyrus, but here in Port Kar land and floor space was at a premium, for much of the city was built on a lagoon surrounded by canals from the vosk delta. Port Kar citizens got round the problem by building upwards, cramming additional storeys onto existing buildings due to the shortage of land that sat safely above sea level.

Port Kar is a Gorean city resembling Venice established on the Thassa, which is the main sea of known Gor. The word Thassa literally means sea or ocean as Goreans know of no other. Kar itself is located in a humid, tropical climate and situated near the Vosk delta marsh on the Tamber Gulf. Its reputation has been established over many centuries as a trading port but also more fearfully as a den of outcasts, outlaws, cutthroats and scoundrels, welcoming the types of men that other cities might reject. The strength of the city lies very much in its shipping and by shipping I mean pirate fleets, as well as more traditional grain fleets, oil fleets and slave fleets. Since Gorean year 10120 (corresponding thereabouts to 1970 in Earth chronology), the ships of Port Kar have enjoyed something of an equivalent naval superiority and strength in numbers as those of the Ubarates of Cos and Tyros.

The city is ruled not by a Ubar or a Tatrix, but by a Council of Captains, and eligibility for a seat on the council is a factor of how many ships and men you command. It is the only city on Gor built by slaves, and it is also the only city constructed completely without towers or cylinders.

A popular saying on Gor is that 'the chains of a slave girl are heaviest in Port Kar'. It is likewise said that no slave has ever escaped from Port Kar. I suspect the last statement is untrue, except for the fact that if a girl did escape Port Kar she would then fall slave to the rencers who dwell in the vosk delta outside of the city walls. Escaping one collar for another is I suppose not really escaping.

Port Kar is also the home of the only caste of thieves in all of Gor. The Caste of Thieves maintain power in the lower canals and perimeters of Port Kar where sane men and women fear to travel. The scar of their caste mark is a tiny three-pronged brand burned into the face in back of and below the eye, over the right cheekbone which they wear with pride.

One aspect of the area around Port Kar is the Vosk delta marsh. The delta is often referred to as Port Kar's strongest wall since it makes an infantry assault from the east practically impossible. A sea borne assault is also difficult as the city has a heavily walled perimeter that faces out to the Thassa. I say walls, but they are not continuous walls in the castle tradition, but rather a series of interlinked fortifications built to safeguard individual holdings. These structures primarily have no windows, though they might possess narrow slits. The outer walls are commonly several feet thick to prevent someone from easily breaking them down. The roof tops often have crenelated parapets to protect bowmen and defenders firing down from those roofs.

The nearest solid land lies around 100 pasangs to the north of Port Kar and here the city maintains logging outposts guarded by slave hunters and trained sleen. With little timber to hand in the vosk delta marshlands, Port Kar is completely dependent on woodland preserves established in the northern forests to provide enough timber to build their ships. Commonly, Tur wood is used for galley frames, and beams and clamps and posts, and for hull planking, whereas Ka-la-na wood serves for capstans and mastheads. Tem-wood is used for rudders and oars and the needle trees and evergreens are carved and shaped for masts, spars and cabin and deck planking. The men of Port Kar also purchase wood from the Forest Peoples in the winter when the logs can be shipped by sea. If Port Kar has one vulnerability it is its reliance on an extended supply line for overseas timber.

The Lady Helena gave Marissa a heavy iron key to the room. On this floor of the building she was the woman responsible for overseeing administrative matters and disputes amongst the residents. She had escorted Marissa on arrival, assigning her to one of the basic living spaces. “There are communal showers on this floor that you can use for free, fed from a water tank housed in the roof. The floors of the building are segregated so only women occupy this level. The water is heated for the fifth and sixteenth ahns of the day. At any other time the water will be cold. If you prefer to bathe there are public baths close by, but they charge a fee and you will have to travel there by either a gondola or walk across several bridges. You will need an escort for that, or arrange to travel in groups with other ladies. There is a laundry room in the basement of the building. The wash tubs, mangles and irons are free to use, or you can pay for a house owned slave to do it for you.” Helena turned to regard Marissa for a moment. “What is your Home Stone?”

“Corcyrus, the silver city of central Gor,” replied Marissa. She took the few steps to the cabinet and opened it. There was room inside to hang her robes and gowns and some shelves to store linen and towels, but little else. She closed the door again, no doubt wondering how she was going to fit all her possessions inside the single wardrobe. “The room is very small.” So much for Marissa's usual life of glamour, I thought. The town house in Corcyrus had been lush and opulent, but here in Port Kar there was a shortage of reasonably priced accommodation for people arriving at the city. Brinn of course would be seeking accommodation elsewhere – possibly in one of the male segregated floors here. He had been permitted to accompany Marissa to view this floor, but Lady Helena had made it clear he wasn't to wander off on his own.

“Be thankful you have secured a home at all,” Said Helena. “You’re in Port Kar now, where land is precious, not surveying the sweeping vista of cylinders in your home city. Some men and women find they have to share common rooms, segregated of course for their own sex, with just spaces chalked out on the floor for their personal sleeping areas. Be grateful for what you have.” Helena paused to consider what else she needed to tell the foreigner. “As this floor is segregated for women, you may robe and veil yourself a little more informally, but when you venture beyond the floor you will require appropriate street wear. I don’t know what standards are like in Corcyrus, but here they are very strict. Are you likely to be free companioned in the near future?”

“Brinn here has shown me much kindness and attention of late,” said Marissa as she placed her gloved hand lightly on Brinn's forearm. “We have spoken of that possibility in the near future. Who knows what may happen if the Priest Kings choose to bless us?'

“Be that as it may, you are not free companioned now, and in any event I should inform you that the city of Port Kar is unique among the cities of Gor in that the practice of free companionship isn't legally recognised here.” said Helena. “Should you wish to socialise with this man, you will of course do so away from this floor. I might add I take a dim view of free women socialising with men unless they consult with me first and arrange a chaperone.”

“Consult with you first?” Marissa looked shocked at the suggestion. “A chaperone?”

“Yes. If you wish to reside in this building you will comport yourself with a higher regard to decency than I suspect you hitherto have been used to in the city of Corcyrus, girl. Your city has a... reputation...” She glanced at Brinn's deeply muscled body and then glanced back at the soft gloved hand that Marissa had placed theatrically on Brinn's forearm. “Remove that hand, please. There will be no such frivolous demeaning behaviour while you reside here!”

Marisa looked shocked as she removed her gloved hand. I could tell she wasn't used to another free woman dictating her behaviour.

“My apologies, Lady,” said Brinn with a diplomatic smile. “You are quite right to insist on such fine standards. The Lady Marissa is young and sometimes forgets herself. I assure you her behaviour is always dignified. The touch of her hand in public was a rare slip in her otherwise faultless character.”

“We shall see,” said the Lady Helena. “Time will always tell.” She then returned her attention to Marissa. “I’ll also tell you what I tell all the women on this floor, Marissa. While your life is of course your own, your comings and goings will always be noticed. We are a close knit group. Very little remains private. A woman who for example was absent from her room during the night will always be the subject of gossip in the morning. Where was she, the other women will ask? Why did she not sleep in her own bed? Did she perhaps sleep in some other bed? Do you understand what I’m saying here?”

“I beg your pardon?” said Marissa, her shock deepening.

“I will therefore expect you back in your place of lodging by the eighteenth ahn every night. We measure this with a simple token system. When you leave the building, a slave will remove a tag from a hook that corresponds to your room and give it to you. When you return, you hand the tag back to the slave who places it back on the hook. At the eighteenth ahn I will inspect the wall hooks to ensure that all my ladies reside safely and modestly in their bed chambers. A report will be made of any tag not in its place by that time. Penalties apply for non-compliance.”

As I have mentioned before, the Gorean day is divided into twenty ahn, each corresponding to approximately one hour and twelve minutes of Earth time. On that basis the Lady Marissa would be expected to return to her room sometime before ten o'clock at night.

“This is very inconvenient! I may wish to stay out far later than that!”

“You may request permission from me to delay your return by say an additional ahn, but I will expect clear details of where you are going, why you will be out so late, when you will be returning, and confirmation you will be escorted safely home. This is for the good of your reputation, and our reputation.”

“This is insane! I will not be subject to such stringent rules! I am paying a lot of money for this tiny room!”

“You are of course free to pay the exorbitant sums for a house of your own which will not be subject to communal standards, or perhaps if you wish to save money you can rent floor space in a shared room where your personal sleeping space will be outlined in chalk. The lack of privacy in such a place is outweighed by the fact that no one monitors your comings and goings nor, should I add, your personal safety. It is not unknown for a free woman to be woken quietly in the darkness with a hand over her mouth and another hand undoing the fastenings of her gown.”

“Are all shared occupancy buildings for free women in Port Kar like this?” exclaimed Marissa.

“This is one of the more liberal ones,” said Lady Helena. “We are renowned for not being overly intrusive. You will find the other women here friendly, provided you maintain an expected level of dignity. We are mostly of the scribes which as you know is a high caste unlike your own middling caste. If you look bad, you make the rest of us look bad. Make us proud of you and we will be good friends. Remember, you are a woman of Port Kar now. We are not like the degenerate women of Ar with their progressive attitudes. We appreciate tradition and decency.” Helena indicated Marissa’s waist, where her street robe was belted. “This is the sort of thing I’m talking about. The belt shows off the curves of your body, the slimness of your waist contrasted with the line of your hips. It is not appropriate in this building and certainly not safe for you out on the streets. Kindly remove it.”

“It's just a belt! I look pretty wearing it! I like to look pretty!” said Marissa as she grew more annoyed now by the minute.

“Pretty?” said Lady Helena, as if such a word in the context of free women was vulgar. “Why do you wish to appear pretty?”

“I just do! I'm a grown woman. I have the right to wear nice things.”

“Do you do so in some contrived fashion designed to attract the eyes of men?” suggested Lady Helena with a trace of concern in her voice.

“Um no, of course not... that thought hadn't even occurred to me.”

“We had a woman here once who wanted to look... pretty...” she said with a sneer.

“I'm sure she was a very respectable free woman with a high degree of modesty,” said Marissa.

“She was a slut and the building residential committee reluctantly reported her to the city magistrates for lewd and inappropriate behaviour. She serves now in a penal brothel for the term of a year.”

“I'm not sure this is a suitable building, Brinn,” said Marissa, turning to him in alarm. “I think I may look elsewhere.”

“Oh, why is that, Lady?” asked Brinn in all innocence. “They seem to have remarkable standards.”

“I... I don't like the décor...”

It was late afternoon as we left the building. My mistress had rejected the room in the end and I could frankly understand why. I hadn't realised that life could be quite so restrictive for the average free woman on Gor. Luckily for my mistress she happened to have considerable funds to fall back on if she wished and so she could afford something better.

“I'll simply rent a private residence that I can utilise alone,” said Marissa as she still fumed from the way the Lady Helena had spoken to her. “I am not going to put up with those ridiculous restrictions on my lifestyle!”

“That will be expensive, Lady,” said Brinn.

“Well, I am a woman of considerable means, and I'm prepared to pay a large sum of money rather than subject myself to the random whims of that harridan. I suspect she is as ugly as a sand sleen beneath those veils and thereby acutely jealous of me!”

“It is possible, I suppose,” said Brinn.

“I mean, you have seen me unveiled. You can understand why a squat, shrill urt of a woman would be jealous of me?”

“These things do happen, I suppose.”

“And did you hear what she implied about my belt!”

Brinn gazed at her slim waist, and observed how the belt acted much like an outer girdle in subtly enhancing the soft curves of her very feminine figure. “You could wear your gowns a little looser, Lady. In my opinion.”

“There is no need. I am already quite modestly garbed by polite society standards,” said Marissa. “See, not even a hint of ankle, and my wrists are quite well concealed with these gloves. It is not my fault if I have a well proportioned figure. It is the body I was born with.” We had walked now across a few of the canal bridges and had found ourselves trailing randomly through a public plaza.

I thought the body she was born with was perhaps a little too curvaceous and could easily be mistaken for the body of a slave when she was undressed down to just her white slip. I had seen her undressed every day of course, so was very familiar with the shape of her hips, waist and breasts. She would definitely look good on a slave block in a display chain. The thought amused me and so I lowered my head as I did not wish to be seen smiling.

“Kind master, kinder mistress, may I draw your attention to a possibly life changing experience of sophisticated culture and entertainment,” said a jovial looking man with a Dutch style beard and moustache and a discernible paunch beneath his opulent flowing robes of various colours as he pointed to a poster design that he had obviously just pasted onto a nearby wall. It was advertising something, but of course I couldn't read any of the words. The picture however suggested a stage of some kind.

“Can I help you?” said Marissa with the usual polite disdain she reserved for the vast population of Gor that weren't handsome, virile, muscular men. “If you're selling something, I'm not interested. I have all my gowns and slippers hand made for me by a tailor from Ar.”

“Dear Lady, I am no mere salesman who seeks to lighten your purse with his trivial trinkets and inferior cloths, but rather I speak to you now of course of the Boots Tarsk-Bit troupe of travelling players, raconteurs and our cornucopia of wonderment! I, as luck would happen, am that self same Boots Tarsk-Bit, owner, proprietor and muse to my skilled artisans.”

“You’re vagrants then?” suggested the Lady Marissa, rather unkindly I thought.

“By no means, wonderful Lady. Actors! Thespians! Archivists of the spoken word! We tread the boards and perform shows of contrasting emotions, upholding the virtues of the sacred performance that is…” he held his breath dramatically for a moment, “theatre!”

“So, travelling vagrants?” said the Lady Marissa again.

Boots looked hurt by the word association and handed her a stencilled sheet with a simple drawing on it of a stage. There were some words that I couldn’t read, presumably detailing the location and times of his performances in Port Kar.

“I am rather partial to theatre,” said Brinn aloud.

“Are these plays of a ribald and offensive nature?” enquired Lady Marissa suspiciously as she scrutinised the handbill. “The theatre in Corcyrus for example has a somewhat lowbrow reputation and the subject matter is often demeaning to free women.”

“By no means, dear Lady! In my latest production, ‘the forest of transformation’ we explore serious themes pertaining to the nature of virtue and the contrasting dispositions of free women and a, shall we say, mischievous slave girl who seeks to play a trick on her fine mistresses.”

“I like plays like that,” said Brinn as he grinned. “Can you elaborate on the plot?”

“Indeed, Sir. Two charming and independent Ladies with intrepid and wilful natures stray by chance from their caravan and become scared and lost in a forest. What are they to do? What dangers will they face? Are there outlaws or panther girls close by who might wish to seize these fine ladies? With them is their slave, a low born girl lacking the finer virtues and superior character of the ladies of course,” said Boots, directing the last words to Marissa.

“Of course,” said Marissa. “There is no comparison between free women and slaves. A gulf as wide as the Thassa separates them.”

“So succinctly put, dear Lady. Truly you have an aptitude for the complex allegories in which I deal, and I think you even begin to approach my skill with word play.”

“The women in the play… they are inspirational role models for free women everywhere?”

“In a sense, Lady,” said Boots as he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Their complex characters are accurate portrayals of free women in my opinion, so I suppose they might prove inspirational to some women who share their, ahem, innermost turmoils...”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” said Marissa at length. “Will there be vulgar nudity?”

“Nudity?” Boots looked surprised by the accusation. “Dear Lady, I am an artist!”

“Well, the theatre in Corcyrus has a reputation for ridiculous plot twists that result in supposedly free women losing all their clothes.”

“Does it?” Boots seemed surprised by this. “And the dear ladies of Corcyrus have to put up with such things? How dreadful!”

“It is,” said Marissa in agreement. “You can understand my concern then when you began talking of a play.”

“Indeed! But of course! I see now your concerns and fears. How right you are to be suspicious!”

“I actually like those kind of plot twists,” said Brinn. “They do not seem ridiculous to me, but rather convincing, well written and acted.” Boots winked knowingly at Brinn when Marissa's attention was momentarily distracted by something and Brinn nodded back, seeming to understand now.

“The good lady may be interested to know we will also have a side show of sorts including a juggler!'

“I loathe jugglers,” said Marissa with a sniff of disdain. “There is no skill in throwing coloured balls in the air.”

“True enough,” said Boots, “though I suppose the true skill lies in catching them again, repeatedly. There will also be a sword swallower from Anango and a magician!”

“I like magicians,” said Brinn. “I saw one once who was capable of stripping the silken slip under garment of a free woman from her body without first removing her outer gowns. Quite remarkable. It was a woman in the audience and you should have heard her cries of dismay as she identified the garment and felt its absence from under her robes. She ran home immediately, clutching the silken slip to her body in shame. How we laughed...”

My mistress rolled her eyes and gazed at Brinn as if he was gullible. “Did it occur to you that she was not really part of the audience but rather an assistant planted there by the magician?”

“Not at all,” said Brinn. “He came from Anango, so he was a real magician. Everyone knows that.”

“We have no time for this,” said Marissa as she returned the hand bill to Boots. “Come, Brinn, Kiera, let us find a cafe where we may enjoy a cool drink and consider our work here.”

We found such a cafe that permitted free women to enter. It was situated a couple of streets away from the ribbon canal. My mistress found us a place to sit beside a low table and she ordered drinks for herself and Brinn and a pan of chilled water for me.

“Where do you wish to begin, Lady?” asked Brinn.

“At the beginning, I suppose.” Marissa produced a small packet of papers that she placed on our low table. She then, to the surprise of Brinn, began to remove her thin gloves – those soft gloves that concealed the skin of her hands and wrists.

“Is there something wrong?” said Marissa with a knowing smile behind her veils no doubt, for Brinn's gaze was now fixated on her slim wrists, clearly visible from the billowing silk sleeves of her outer gown.

“No.” He looked slightly uncomfortable but couldn't help himself gaze at wrists that would look beautiful locked in slave bracelets.

“It is a hot day,” said Marissa. “My hands are warm. Forgive me.”

“It is... nothing... Lady...” said Brinn as he tried to look away.

“You have permission to gaze on my slave, Keira, if that helps to distract you,” said Marissa pleasantly, clearly relishing this, for she knew I think the effect on a Gorean man when a free woman casually removes her gloves to reveal those wrists and hands. It is a strange fact of Gor that when free women are fully clothed men rarely give them a second glance other than to speculate what the woman might look like beneath the heavy layers of cloth. Their eyes tend to prefer the sight of slave girls such as myself, and this is understandable as we are generally scantily clad, if at all. But when a free woman modestly reveals a little of herself, it has an arousing effect on a Gorean male. I suppose there is an element of the peek-a-boo tease commonly found in burlesque theatre on Earth. Gorean men are strangely hypnotised by small glimpses of a free woman's body when modesty fails her. They are drawn to it like moths to a candle flame and seemingly can't help themselves. My mistress knew precisely what she was doing here, and in some parts of Gor this is viewed as broadly permissible if a woman wishes to attract the attention of a possible suitor. Some cities however feel the opposite, that it is too risque, and that a woman takes a step too far by removing her gloves in front of a man. I have no idea which side of the argument the men of Port Kar stand. A beautiful free woman can be considered something of a forbidden fruit to a Gorean man, and his natural biology makes him desire her simply because society says he cannot have her, unless it as is a capture and then she is reduced to slavery. Be that as it may, despite the fact that Brinn could easily feast his eyes on my scantily clad body, or the similarly clad beauties within this cafe, he was hypnotised now by the Lady Marissa's bare wrists and she knew it. What power free women have over men! I have seen so many men put up with all manner of rudeness from a free woman, simply because she is a free woman. And yet she walks such a narrow tightrope at times. One slip in decorum and her fate is somewhat less safe.

“Men,” said my Mistress with a soft ripple of laughter. “One glimpse of a slim wrist and you are all the same.”

“Can we get down to business,” said Brinn as he gazed at me instead. I smiled at the handsome master and sucked in my stomach as I knelt demurely in tower.

“Of course. You are probably wondering why Samos has entrusted this mission to me, a woman.”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” said Brinn as his eyes flitted again quickly to regard her wrists.

“These intelligence reports pertaining to whispers, rumours, first and second hand accounts, all seem to suggest a long standing conspiracy has arisen in Port Kar. People have been approached. Questions have been asked. Money has been offered. The incidents taken in isolation mean nothing of course, for plotting, bribery and scheming are all well established factors of politics in Port Kar, but when a brilliant mind such as Samos's begins to connect these stray whispers... well, a pattern of sorts begins to emerge.”

By now I had gathered that this Samos was an important man within Port Kar, and that he sat on the Council of Captains, owned many ships and traded in slaves. His name had often been mentioned in conjunction with another powerful captain of Port Kar, a man called simply 'Bosk'. This was a curious name to me for I had long ago learnt that a bosk in the Gorean language is a huge, shambling wide horned and shaggy beast with a bumped neck, a wide head and tiny fierce red eyes. They are bred for meat and hides and are similar to cattle on Earth I suppose. The reason why a man might have such a name eluded me.

“I see. But that doesn't explain why Samos wishes you to investigate.”

“Some of these rumours paint an unusual picture if indeed they are true. Samos believes that this conspiracy within the walled enclaves of Port Kar is female led.”

“Really?” Brinn seemed astonished at the suggestion. Perhaps he would have scoffed at it except for the fact this was the belief of the man called Samos, and Brinn seemed to hold this Samos in high regard.

“If so, these women will be wary of any approaches from men they don't know, but maybe more receptive to similar approaches from me.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” agreed Brinn. I noticed he had glanced at Marissa's wrists again.

“Samos is wise in the ways of conspiracies, Brinn. He has tasked me with coming to the attention of these women who scheme in the shadows.”

“A strategy with inherent risks for you,” said Brinn.

“I am not afraid,” said Marissa. “I work for Samos. I will hopefully then be contacted, furtively at first, perhaps to consider my loyalties to the city, and then perhaps I will be evaluated, eventually to meet in person members of this conspiracy.”

Brinn nodded in acknowledgement. “We may have had some points of difference until now, Lady,” said Brinn, “but I will always acknowledge and respect bravery when I see it. I commend you for what you are about to do for the Priest Kings.”

“Thank you, Brinn,” said Marissa as she gently placed a bare hand on his forearm in gratitude for his compliment. I almost felt the hairs on the back of Brinn's neck go up as he felt her naked touch for the first time. His natural instinct would surely be to throw her onto her back, strip the cumbersome garments from her body and use her for his pleasure, but I could see he maintained control and simply glanced at the touch with his eyes.

Quickly, my mistress removed that hand as if she hadn't considered what she had done. “Forgive me. I am not used to such gallant compliments. Especially from a man with such a magnificent reputation amongst our profession. I shouldn't have...” For a moment she gazed into his eyes and then quickly looked away, blushing. The effect wasn't lost on Brinn as I saw him adjust his seated position, possibly to conceal what had to be a growing erection now.

“I understand, Lady,” said Brinn as he now squeezed his hands into fists of frustration. If ever I saw a man wanting to seize and use a woman, this was it.

I think my mistress was now walking that very narrow tightrope with Brinn...