Ubara of Gor Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: The Strength of Free Women

“A free woman could hurt herself with this,” said Yishana as she tapped the small kitchen knife that lay on top of a stack of two crates on board the Larl. “Where did you take it?”

“From the galley,” said Cassandra as she stood there on deck between two of the Askaris who had brought her to the Ubara when commanded to. Cassandra remained defiant in spirit after several weeks on board ship, and had recently made a clumsy attempt to steal a kitchen knife and conceal it under the skirts of her robes, tied to her right thigh with a strip of binding fibre. Sadly for her she was being watched constantly by kajirae and one of them had reported swiftly to Naomi.

“And what were you planning on doing with this knife?” Yishana picked it up, turned it by the handle and ran her finger down the edge. It would be sharp and quick to use in a confident hand.

“I would use it to protect my virtue.” Unfortunately one of the Askaris had got a little frisky a few nights before when drunk and had torn the front of Cassandra's outer gown. It hung loose above the right breast, revealing the second layer of gown of a softer material. Cassandra remained unveiled for Yishana did not permit free women to veil themselves on board the Larl.

“Your virtue remains intact so long as I protect it.” In fairness to Yishana she had ordered the offending Askari to be whipped at the mast for touching Cassandra without permission, but this was only because she was now formulating ideas to barter Cassandra to Brinn. Ideas that Simon had teased to her over the passing weeks.

“You weren't there when your man tried to touch me,” said Cassandra. She stood close to the starboard rail and gazed briefly across the wide expanse of sea. It was a warm, clear day and we could see various sea birds following what appeared to be a shoal of migrating fish. I sat away to the side with Asha to my left as we watched the confrontation take place. Cassandra had challenged Yishana by stealing the knife and I knew there would be repercussions now.

“Do you think she'll whip the free woman?” whispered Asha to me.

“I hope so,” I whispered back.

We were playing a game of draughts, which was something I'd introduced to Gor on board the Larl. We actually have a lot of free time on board ship and in a moment of inspiration I made up a simple board on a scrap of sail cloth, marking out the equal squares and created two sets of playing pieces from pebbles painted with nail polish. Men had their complicated kaissa which is just chess on a grander scale, and so I introduced draughts as a game suitable for slaves. It caught on quickly, and the men didn't seem to mind as it seemed simple compared to their beloved kaissa. I was something of a ranking champion on board ship as I used to play the game at university but Asha in particular was becoming a ferocious opponent. We would sometimes gamble for treats that we had earned – bits of sugared candy in particular as it's a rare kajira indeed who doesn't have a sweet tooth.

“The treatment of a captive is contingent on the understanding that the captive does not try to escape or conceal weapons about her person,” said Yishana as she placed the knife back on the barrel. “You have broken that understanding. I can no longer trust you.”

Cassandra remained stoic standing there in her torn robes with her slim wrists braceleted in front of her.

“Your robes make it to easy for you to conceal weapons. Remove them. You will wear the tunic of a slave instead.”

“Never,” hissed Cassandra. “I was born from the seed of a warrior!”

“You will wear a slave tunic, brief, revealing, and tight. There will be no place under that scrap of fabric to conceal another knife.”

“I will die first, before I will dishonour my family.”

“So many captive women say that,” said Yishana with a smile, “and yet none of them are ever prepared to follow through on their statement. You all want to live. You will wear a slave tunic. Be thankful you are still of use to me and I do not give you a collar to go with it.”

I was so engrossed by this exchange of words that I hadn't kept my eye on the draughts moves Asha had been making and with an annoyed scowl I saw she had swiftly taken another of my pieces. So be it, what I really wanted to see right now was Cassandra being forced into a brief slave tunic. It's times like this I regretted there were no cameras on Gor.

“I will not wear a slave tunic,” repeated Cassandra.

“You can go naked on board ship if you prefer. But what you will not do is wear robes of concealment any more.”

Yishana held Cassandra's gaze for many seconds as the two women regarded one another without blinking. It was a show of force of will, and one that Cassandra could never hope to win for the Askaris could simply strip her at knife point if she refused to comply.

“Tell my brother I did not bring him shame,” said Cassandra and then without warning she threw herself at the starboard rail and, with her braceleted hands, pushed herself over the edge. We were stunned for the second or two that it took her body to fall over the side into the sea.

“Emma!” screamed Simon, and I knew instinctively what he meant. Simon knew I was possibly the strongest swimmer on board the Larl – I’m a regular seal in the water and I ran at the ship’s rail and dived over the side after Cassandra. Why I was doing this, I don’t know, for she had always been a complete bitch to me, but I respond instinctively to the barked order of a man by now.

I jackknifed into the sea and dimly saw the flailing, floundering figure of Cassandra sink beneath me. There was no way anyone could swim in her position. Her wrists were chained with just a few links and the sheath like nature of her long gown meant her legs could only take short steps and certainly couldn’t make the kicks necessary to push back to the surface. But she knew this when she dived over the side of the ship. Cassandra was committing suicide rather than allow herself to be stripped and treated like a slave. A lot of free women claim this is what they would do if faced with the shame of the collar, but Cassandra it seems was the real deal and meant it.

She probably meant to open her mouth underwater and drown quickly but it’s never that easy because your body has a natural survival instinct that overrides your conscious brain. Cassandra was holding her breath even if she wanted to kill herself and now as she sank deeper and deeper towards the seabed I could see she was panicking, kicking out at the confines of her ankle length sheath skirt in a desperate attempt to save herself. I saw her braceleted hands flail in the water, unable to make the breast strokes that were needed to swim. I kicked with my legs, pushing fast, propelling myself towards Cassandra. Was she aware I was coming for her? Did her eyes register underwater the sight of a slave girl jackknifing through the salt water like a speeding dolphin? Or was her brain now simply scrambled with terror?

I took hold of her and slowed her momentum down. This wasn’t going to be easy because the weight of her gowns would be a drag against the water going back up and her flailing around wasn’t helping at all. I kicked up again and again and felt us both rise. I put my arms around her chest and kicked as hard as I could hoping she might stop struggling long enough for me to surface. Her face reflected absolute terror and her eyes showed a Cassandra I had never seen before – a Cassandra who was practically looking imminent death in the face. Again I kicked up, and again, and again. Where was that fucking surface? Cassandra was so heavy in my arms, I feared we might not make it, even though I had champion swimmer lungs. Another kick, and then I felt other hands helping me. There were men around me and together we broke surface and gasped in lungfuls of precious air.

Cassandra screamed and tried desperately to keep her head above water, her survival instinct taking full control of her. Around me were two Askaris and Simon and together we kept Cassandra afloat and guided her to the side of the Larl where a rope was being lowered down to us. We tied a loop of the rope under Cassandra’s armpits and eased her up as the men on deck winched the rope up slowly. She was bedraggled, hysterical and very close to death. Another ten seconds or so might have meant her death.

“Thank you, Emma,” said Simon as he trod water beside me. “She would have died if you hadn’t been quick.”

“She’s Brinn’s sister,” I said. “I suppose I couldn’t let her die.”

“Emma, I really mean this. Thank you.”

I didn’t want Simon’s thanks. But I nodded regardless.

I didn’t need to be raised up by a winch and rope. I was fit enough to use the wooden blocks nailed to the side of the Larl’s hull above the waterline. These are big enough for foot and handholds and allow people to climb back onto a vessel from the water. I’m nimble as a mountain goat when it comes to climbing and I shot up the side of the ship like the most agile of squirrels. Tijani took my hand as I reached the top and helped me over the rail, though I didn’t need his help really, but it’s good to let men think they’re essential.

“Well done, Emma. The Ubara is very pleased with you.”

I smiled as I landed nimbly on the deck. “How grateful, Master?” I asked as I felt his hands go round my waist. Sea water dripped from my tanned body as I felt him kiss me.

“You’re excused chores for the rest of the week and you’ll dine with us tonight at the high table beside the Ubara.”

“Will there be ka-la-na, Master?”

“Yes,” laughed Tijani. “You can get drunk, you sleek little fish.”

“And afterwards, Master? When I’m feeling particularly sleek and needy?” I purred and rubbed myself against his crotch, feeling a hardness grow there on him, pressing against my pelvis.

“You’ll be well used tonight, Emma. I'll make sure of that.”

My eyes sparkled with delight as I kissed him back. And then I glanced at the bundle of sodden robes that was the Lady Cassandra, lying slumped on the deck, exhausted and looking very sorry for herself. She was coming to her senses now and realised that her suicide attempt had failed. Yishana looked particularly angry with Brinn’s sister.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” snarled the Ubara. “You’ll not be allowed near the ship’s rails again. Chain her,” she said to one of the askaris. We watched as an ankle chain was locked about her left ankle and the other end was fastened to the slave ring at the base of the mast socket. The length of chain afforded her enough movement to approach the rails but not quite far enough to touch them.

“Now strip,” said Yishana as she stood above the prone figure of Cassandra.

“No,” she said, still defiant. I noticed that her wrists had been freed of the bracelets. No doubt this was so that she could undress herself.

“You wish to be stripped by my men?” asked Yishana. She seemed to grow tired of this stubborn resistance and motioned for an Askari to do just that. The man pulled Cassandra onto her feet and as he drew a knife Cassandra lunged forward and bit his nose. She sank her teeth into it and as the Askari howled, Cassandra turned his knife hand and stabbed herself in the side with it.

Again there was shock amongst the crew as men raced to prevent Cassandra from plunging the knife into herself a second time. Hands wrestled the blade from her as blood began to stain her gowns where the blade had penetrated flesh. She struggled furiously as she was thrown to her back and her wrists drawn away from her. Men held those wrists together against the deck as other men held each of her ankles. She writhed on the deck crying out words I couldn’t make out as Simon rushed over to examine the spreading red stain on her clothes.

“Ubara, if you want this woman to live, please stop this!” He pressed hard with a compress of wadded cloth against the point on Cassandra’s gown where she had wounded herself. “This woman is not a slave! She is like you – she will choose death over slavery! Leave her her gowns or she will find a way to kill herself eventually.”

The kajira, Asha, came running with Simon’s medical kit from below deck.

“Please, Lady, let me dress and sew your wound. I do not want you to die.” Simon took Cassandra’s hand in his own and squeezed it tenderly. He really cared for her it seemed. “I will never forgive myself if you died in my protection.”

“Your protection?” she said as she gazed up at him.

“Yes. I swore myself to your service at the estate, remember, Lady? I will die from spear thrusts before I allow them to strip you. I give you my word, Lady.”

“I will die before I wear a collar, Simon,” said Cassandra as she held his hand and gazed up into his eyes.

“I know. And I have such respect for you because of it,” he said. “Let me save your life, Lady. Please.”

There were tears in her eyes as she nodded silently. The compression was holding back the worst of the blood loss but the stain was spreading across her gown slowly but surely.

He raised his head and spoke to one of the Askaris. “We need a screen around the Lady. Hurry.”

“What are you doing, Simon?” said Yishana as she paced the deck towards him.

“I’m trying to save the Lady’s life.”

“She seems happy enough to throw it away. Why should I care?”

“Because she is your most valued asset, Ubara. I told you before, her brother will pay any price to recover her safely. He is one of Gor’s greatest warriors and he commands a shield wall company of some of Gor’s finest warriors. Each of his men has carved out a reputation on multiple battlefields. As a unit they are… practically Spartans.”

“What is Spartans?”

“There were three hundred of them at a battle called Thermopylae on Earth. They held back a Persian army many times their size for several days. They fought like savage larls. Brinn's men are like that. You need them if you want to take on the warship of Cos. You cannot take the Vengeance with just your Askaris. Tijani, tell her this is true.”

Yishana glanced at Tijani and saw him nod.

“His assessment is correct, Ubara. Your men are brave, but they are outnumbered two to one and the Cosians will be Matias’s blood-guard. His best men. If Simon is speaking the truth then these Spartans would make the difference.”

“I am telling the truth,” said Simon. “But Brinn will not help you if his sister is shamed. He will simply come at you with a blood vengeance of his own. He might even ally with Matias. I have seen the man fight, Ubara. You do not want him as an enemy.”

“You have to decide, Ubara, and quickly,” said Tijani. “The bleeding is slow but continues.” He pointed to Cassandra on the deck. “I believe Simon when he says this woman will kill herself rather than be shamed. She will find a way. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but eventually. There is always a way. She has done nothing to offend you. She is not of Cos. Why throw away her value?”

The air hung heavy as Yishana considered these words.

“At least honour a brave woman,” added Tijani. “She has not begged, crawled, demeaned herself in any way since you took her. If she is even just a fraction of her brother, imagine what he must be like.”

“Brinn and his company are worth four times their numbers in battle,” said Simon. “You will have an army.”

Yishana gazed down at Cassandra who lay there looking pale now. Her body was in shock from blood loss from her self inflicted wound. Simon kept the compress hard in place but he needed to operate and stitch her up.

“Emma,” said Yishana after a while.

“Mistress?” I replied.

“This woman stole your children and crucified you. Should I let her die?” Yishana was leaving the choice to me. Perhaps because I had saved her from slavery a few weeks ago. She had a sense of honour and meant to pay her debt to me it seemed.

But did I really want Cassandra dead?

“Mistress, I’m a slave. I can’t judge a free woman.” I felt my heart hammering inside my chest at just the thought of such a thing. It was forbidden. Far more than simply forbidden. I had been conditioned for seven years now to fear and respect free women. They terrified me.

“Does she live or die, Emma?”

I was looking at the deck and didn’t dare to raise my eyes. I knew everyone onboard would be looking at me now.

“She is a free woman, Mistress.”

“Does she live or die, Emma?”

“She lives, Mistress,” I wept. And I knew Cassandra would continue to hate me, even more than before, for I had now saved her life twice, and the thought of being saved by a slave would only intensify her loathing of me.

“Very well. Simon – save her life.” She glanced down at Cassandra and added. “You are lucky this man cares for you and has a persuasive tongue. You may retain your robes provided you never attempt to conceal a weapon again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my captor,” said Cassandra.

“I need a screen for this free woman,” shouted Simon as he held on to the thick cloth compress over the wound. “She is bleeding to death and I need to operate now!”

Yishana nodded and several of her Askaris erected a screen around the fallen woman. Simon ordered all the men to move to the other side of the screen so that none of them could see Cassandra. Yishana remained, as did Asha and I. We were slaves and so we didn’t count.

“Noble Lady, you understand I am going to have to lift your robes away from the wound area in order to operate. I should really cut them away but you have nothing else to wear on board this ship. I regret the distress this will cause you to be partially naked before me. Please believe me that I will act completely professionally and try my best not to think of you as anything other than a patient.”

Cassandra reached for his hand and squeezed it softly as she lay there playing the tragic swooning martyr to full effect. “If any man should ever be permitted to view me in a state of undress it is you, Simon. I trust you implicitly. I know you will banish all lustful thoughts from your mind as you work.”

Yeah, that’s so going to happen, I thought to myself.

“You do me such an honour, kind Lady. Are you comfortable? Can I send for a pillow for your head?”

Oh, please… I sighed to myself.

“A small pillow would be of help in my moment of distress, kind Simon.” She squeezed his hand with what seemed to be fading strength.

“Emma! A pillow! The softest, plumpest one possible for this precious, kind Lady!”

I reluctantly headed to Yishana's cabin, selected a pillow that met that description and came scampering back to deliver it to Simon. I resisted the temptation to spit on it when no one could see me.

Simon very tenderly raised the back of Cassandra’s head and slid the pillow between her and the deck. “You are the bravest woman on Gor, Lady,” he said as he then began to lift the ankle length hem of the dress up past her knees and up towards her waist. Cassandra had good legs. Not as good as mine, but good legs. I knelt there fascinated as the hem of the dress was carefully pulled up past her vagina and over her hips. I was seeing a lot more of Cassandra than she probably wanted me to see. And from where I knelt I could see she was vain enough to keep her pubic hair very neatly trimmed. The knife wound above her hips, to the left of her belly was now exposed and bleeding freely until a fresh compress was placed over it. Simon began barking instructions to Asha to hand him his sterile solutions that would clean the wound. He seemed satisfied that the Lady had missed her vital organs and so no serious damage had been done. Simon reached for a bottle of some chemical and poured a little of it onto a wadded cloth. He then held the cloth to Cassandra’s mouth and nose, making her breathe in the fumes. I think it was capture scent, normally used to render women unconscious before abduction and enslavement, but in this case it served as an anaesthetic. Cassandra grew sleepy and her eyes gradually fluttered closed. As soon as she seemed to be out Simon began his real work, sterilising and then sewing closed the knife wound, working carefully to stitch a suture that would leave as small a scar as possible under the circumstances. In a proper operating theatre he would have been able to do a neater job, but even so his stitching on board the Larl seemed precise and neat.

With the battlefield surgery complete, Simon applied a tight clean dressing to the stitched wound, wrapping bandage gauze around Cassandra's lower body to hold it tightly in place. The Lady was already coming round from the brief application of capture scent and Simon smiled at her as she blinked her weary eyes open.

“I’ve finished stitching your wound, lady. You will need lots of rest and high protein food to keep your strength up. Please promise me you will not try to kill yourself again.”

“So long as I have you by my side, kind Simon, I will know I am safe from humiliation.”

“I promise it, Lady.” He began to pull Cassandra's bloodied robes about her lower body again, inching the fabric carefully down past her sex, down past her thighs and all the way to her ankles.

“This woman needs rest,” said Simon loudly for all to hear. “She is to be treated with the dignity and respect afforded to the most precious of free women. I will answer with steel to any man who attempts to humiliate her in any fashion.”

A bold challenge and one Simon would be hard pressed to back up with martial skill as his ability with a blade was average at best, but I think the Askaris respected his warning that he would protect a free woman. Goreans understand that principle as much as they understand that a true man will defend his Home Stone with his dying breath. Simon had staked his protectorship of Cassandra and it was likely that the men on board the Larl would respect that, at least as long as there were sufficient kajirae to cater to their sexual needs. A ship without luscious slave girls would be a very different and far more dangerous environment for Cassandra to be a captive in. Without slaves on board the Larl I doubt even Yishana would be able to protect Cassandra from rape.

Men take what they feel is owed to them.

Events began to move swiftly from that point as Yishana spent a few days questioning both Simon and myself about Brinn. Despite his fame in central Gor, Yishana had never heard of him, but she seemed impressed by what we had to say. I stuck to the official story that made him out to be the saviour of Gor and I embellished the truth of recent events in Port Kar by giving Brinn the credit for exposing and destroying the Shadow Council conspiracy. Simon recognised what I was doing and backed up my version of events.

“He will do anything to protect his sister. Simon is right when he says you can make a compact with him. But do not anger him Mistress. He is stubborn to the point of being self destructive. Make it clear that you simply captured Cassandra as a consequence of attacking the ship she travelled on and he will not consider you a natural enemy provided you have left her virtue intact and done nothing to humiliate her.”

Simon then praised the martial might of Brinn's warriors, claiming they were among the best on Gor, which was probably true to be honest. The best warriors are drawn to serve under the war banners of the mightiest heroes. That's just the way things are. We also stressed the fact that Brinn had certain ties of friendship to Port Kar, mostly because of Samos, and so had no love for Cos. That was probably deceitful through omission for we didn't mention he had nothing against Cos either.

The more we spoke, the more we could see that Yishana was definitely interested in securing Brinn's assistance. And then in private I added one final inducement. “You have sworn an oath to return me to my children, Mistress, for what I did to save you from the collar. If you are going to do that you will be contacting Brinn anyway. Why not secure his aid in the process?”

And so it was done. Yishana spoke in private with Kerim Shah and gained his approval. She would send a message to the Sardar notifying him that he had both his sister and me and was prepared to strike a deal. The message was sent by tarn, from a coastal town, and we waited anxiously for the inevitable reply. When it came I was delighted by the response. Brinn would come. He would meet us in the equatorial water close to the Bastion. He would bring a warship packed with armed men. And he warned Yishana that if any harm befell Cassandra, he would wreak bloody revenge.

Strangely enough the threat seemed to please Yishana. When I asked why she simply replied, “I would not have any use for an ally who did not feel that way about his sister. I want an ally capable of murderous intent.”

A week later we had returned to the Bastion.

This time around our arrival in the sheltered harbour was met with a rather more frosty reception than before. Gone was the usual witty banter and cordial welcome. There was no more Grigor exclaiming how delighted he was to see the lovely Yishana once again, veilless and beautiful. Bad blood now existed between them, at least as far as Grigor was concerned, following our previous visit when Yishana had deliberately wrecked the proposed ransom arrangements and had gone on to provoke Matias and threaten Grigor. Now I think Grigor just wanted to wash his hands of the whole arrangement, and if necessary he would have agreed to simply hand Saffia over to the Cosians for free had Yishana’s warnings not startled him. I think everyone knew that if Grigor opposed Yishana she would make it her new mission in life to lurk close to the harbour inlet and sink every customer who potentially tried to reach or leave the island on which the Bastion was built. The fortress itself might be impregnable, mounted on top of its bleak outcrop, but the sailing ships that provided the economic reason for the Bastion to exist would be easy prey for the Larl of the Thassa.

“Grigor, you are well, I hope?” said Yishana pleasantly as if nothing bad had been said last time around.

“I endure. Can we get this over with? I have received many communications from the Cosians, each one more impatient than the last. They have your gold, minted in Ar, and they wish to conclude the ransom. They feel, perhaps not unreasonably, that you are deliberately delaying matters. Where have you been?”

“I am a busy woman,” said Yishana with a smile as she regarded Grigor and his small band of men. “I needed to buy new clothes for example. Contemporary fashion is so fickle.”

“I don’t find that funny.”

“Oh? You do seem quite dour these days, Grigor. Perhaps the cold sea air doesn’t suit you?”

“Can I send for the Cosian vessel? Can we conclude this ransom arrangement? I want an end to this.”

“Patience my impetuous little friend. Fate and destiny are steady flowing rivers on which we all sail without the aid of oars or sails.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Grigor really wasn't happy and he had no time for these verbal games any more. “The longer I hold Saffia, the more threats I receive from the Cosians! They are growing very threatening indeed! This is all your doing! Just take their gold! Release the woman! I want an end to this.”

“Before we begin, I have some questions for the Lady Saffia,” said Yishana, ignoring the man's outburst. “Bring her to me.” Her eyes grew hard. “Now.”

Grigor wasn’t the only one who had changed in the interim. It was a newly confident Lady Saffia who emerged from the lower levels of the Bastion, accompanied by two respectful slave girls in attendance. She now wore clean new robes and her face was veiled. She walked with the air of superiority I often saw in free women of high status who knew they wielded influence and power. I could only assume that the Cosian threats to Grigor had scared him enough to accord every conceivable comfort and privilege to the Lady Saffia during her endless incarceration. He perhaps desperately wanted Saffia to speak favourably of him once the ransom was concluded for fear that an angry Cos might otherwise starve his island fortress into submission with a protracted and costly naval siege. Yishana seemed amused by the way Grigor visibly bowed before his prisoner, keen to stay in her good favour.

“You look well, Lady Saffia,” said Yishana as she regarded the woman. “Grigor’s hospitality seems to have improved.”

“He wisely understands that my incarceration has angered the island of Cos and that his only chance of being spared the wrath of the Cosian navy is to treat me as the woman of high status that I am. What do you want, pirate? Am I to be at last ransomed?” She looked down at Yishana with possibly a sneer that was hidden behind her veils.

“Your ransom is close to hand, but I have a few questions for you first. Why has your beloved Matias never coupled with you following your free companionship? Why are you still white silk?”

To be a fair it was a question I was curious about too, but then I was a kajira and we're the most curious of creatures.

“I will not discuss such things with you, pirate,” snapped Saffia. “It is none of your business.”

“You are my business, Lady, and you are also my captive. I am not Grigor Sansum. I am not scared of the might of Cos. You will answer my question or I will have you stripped and whipped by one of my men.”

“Ubara!” exclaimed Grigor in protest. “You cannot do that! This woman is protected by the rules of the Bastion and…”

“Kakuma, if this noisy little urt tries to tell me what I can or cannot do again you have my permission to kill him on the beach along with all his men,” said Yishana without looking at Grigor who now took a step back in fear. His men were outlaws, not religious fanatics like the Askaris. He had no doubt the black skinned warriors would carry out the orders of their Goddess without hesitation. “Make it slow and painful.”

“As you command, Ubara,” said the grim faced Kakuma. “Slow and painful, on the point of our spears, it will be.”

“You really go too far, Yishana,” said Grigor, but he stepped well away from Saffia who now looked about her in alarm.

“Grigor?” She shrieked.

“Answer the woman's question, dear Lady,” suggested Grigor. “She is insane. She is a monster. I wish I’d never met her.”

“Oh Grigor,” said Yishana with a smile. “You hurt my feelings. And after I went to all the trouble of wearing my prettiest gown and slippers to please you.”

She turned back to regard her captive. “Let me put my question in simple terms for you, you Cosian slut,” said Yishana as she advanced on Saffia with a drawn knife. “Are you frigid and have rebuffed his advances for three years, or has the admiral no interest in putting you belly down on his couch and using you for his pleasure? Which is it?”

“Grigor! Please! She is threatening me!”

But Grigor it seems was not brave enough to face the Askaris here on the beach. He turned his face away from Saffia. “Please Lady, do not provoke this insane woman.”

“Matias is a complicated man!” said Saffia at last. She was in tears because Yishana had suddenly face stripped her in advance of presumably cutting away her clothes. The loss of her veils had forced the words from her mouth when she realised that none of the men of the Bastion would dare intervene.

“Complicated how? Has he never tried to sleep with you? And if so, why not?”

“He…” Saffia looked terrified now. “He has… tried…”

“Oh.” Yishana laughed. “Ah… now it becomes clearer. He has… tried…”

“It is my fault! I am too frigid! I must be too frigid!” she wailed. “I am at fault.”

“Does he couple with his slaves?” asked Yishana.

“I assume so,” wept Saffia. “I do not want to know if he does. I hate the presence of his slaves! He always shows them off! You saw that when he came here first to ransom me.”

“You assume he uses them, but you do not know for certain. Does your free companion prefer the company of men? It is not unheard of. Astawe on my ship enjoys the use of young men for example in the port of Schendi. I do not think it wrong.”

“No. I would know if that was the case,” said Saffia. “He is not that way. He… it… I am at fault! I must be! I do not… excite him sufficiently…”

“Have you tried crawling to him naked on your hands and knees, your ass raised, begging use?” suggested Yishana with a smile.

“No! Of course not!”

“Have you tried dancing before him, the dances of a slave girl, your body dressed in pleasure silk?”

“How dare you!”

“I am only trying to help,” said Yishana with a laugh. “How frequently does he attempt to have sex with you?”

“I can't answer these questions!” wailed Saffia in fear.

“I will whip you.”

“He stopped trying in the first year in frustration,” sobbed Saffia. “It is my fault! I know it is my fault! I do not please men!”

“I think my Askaris would beg to differ if they had you on your belly on a pile of sail cloth,” said Yishana. “I do not think my Askaris would have any complaints at all. I think the problem is probably with your beloved. You must be a very frustrated woman.”

“No! I adore my beloved and he adores me.”

“Would I be correct in guessing he rose to the rank of second admiral in some way connected with his free companionship of you?” asked Yishana.

“Well…” Saffia reluctantly nodded. “My family is very influential in Telnus.”

“So, a political advantageous companionship. It is common enough. I suspect he does desire you if he made many attempts to couch with you. No doubt the loss of you would reflect badly on his status in Cos. I see why he wants you back. Your family would turn on him if he failed to recover their daughter. Do you desire men, Lady Saffia?”

“Please…” she wept. “These questions are intrusive!”

“I am simply asking you whether you have healthy sexual responses for an adult woman. I am not suggesting you are a natural slave. I take some pleasure from sex when I use men as I wish, when I chain them helplessly in my cabin. That doesn’t make me a slave. Do you find men of interest sexually?”

“Yes.” Saffia’s voice was very quiet. I could see slight curls of smiles appear on the faces of her two slave girls. We are always amused when a mistress reluctantly expresses some interest in men.

“Then you must be sexually frustrated, at least to some degree?”

“Yes,” wept Saffia again.

“It is perfectly acceptable for a gentle woman to desire the comforts and warmth of the couch with her free companion. No one thinks less of you for it. It is what free companionship is for. An acceptable arrangement for free women to experience gentle love making. Thank you for answering my questions, Lady.” Yishana smiled sweetly. “Before I go I’m going to tell you a little secret. Something that may help with your frustrations concerning your free companionship.” And then we all watched as Yishana stood close to Lady Saffia and whispered something into her ear. There was a stifled scream from the Lady from whatever Yishana had said. She stood there looking pale and scared as Yishana rejoined us and motioned for us to return to the long boats beached at the harbour side.

“What did you say to her, Mistress?” I asked as we neared the row boats.

“You’re always curious, aren’t you, Emma?”

“I am a kajira, Mistress. We’re all very curious beasts. It's who we are.”

“Perhaps I should have you whipped for being curious?”

“Oh no, Mistress, if you whipped kajirae for being curious, you'd be whipping kajirae all the time. You're far too busy to do that.”

“A good answer my sweetly curved girl. I told her a secret. I told her that I never had any intention of ransoming her, and that very soon when I have her beloved trapped and killed, I’ll have her enslaved, branded and sold in Schendi and she’ll no longer have to worry about lying on her couch alone, untouched by men, ever again.”

And then, five weeks later, Brinn's warship arrived...