Outcast of Gor Chapter Twenty Four

 

Kelsee’s enforced silence would make this difficult. I had no way of knowing what she had said to Darian. I could speculate that she had been captured in the woods by outlaws when she had blundered through the trees in panic. They would perhaps have put her to use throughout the night and then come morning, taken her to Darian’s camp to sell her for whatever they might get. 

 

I don’t think Kelsee had known beforehand that it was Darian’s camp. She had only known there was a slaver camp somewhere distant from the paved road. Did she try to appeal to Darian when she had been brought in terror to the branding tent? Had she seen him and cried out his name? And if so, what had she told him?

 

I weighed up my options. So she had claimed to be a Free Woman of Argentum? Fine. I was an outlaw. I wasn’t expected to hold that Home Stone to any sacrosanct status. All women were assumed to be my prey. Darian would know that.

 

I shrugged. “Most slaves were Free Women once upon a time. The number of bred slaves is surely still in the minority?” I phrased that as a question for him. There you go, I thought – here’s an opportunity for you to show off with your caste knowledge, Mr Athuk.

 

Darian nodded. “Statistically only 3 in every 100 slaves is bred, and then only from pedigree stock. This is a factor of the time it takes to grow a slave from birth to an age suitable for rendering into full abject slavery. The long term investments and costs involved often outweigh the ultimate benefits, except for certain pedigree lines. It is simpler these days to obtain women from Earth, already fully grown, with natural slave bellies. Bred slaves have recently been overtaken in numbers by the enslaved women of Earth, who are growing more numerous in the towns and cities, as men now actively seek them out as exquisite stock. Whereas when I first graduated in my caste, Earth women were fewer in number than bred slaves, and generally dismissed as inferior to their Gorean sisters.”

 

“They make luscious slaves,” I said, trying to bridge some common ground between us. “I can understand the attraction.”

 

“They do. You are aware that this slave,” he pointed to Kelsee, secured by a chain from the slave post that ran to her collar ring, “is an Earth girl?”

 

“I am.” Could he tell I was a barbarian from my accent? I had deliberately been altering the tone and pitch of my voice to more approximate the Gorean accents I was now familiar with. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be different enough from an English accent to suggest the possibility that I was in fact Gorean, but from some far city where the accents might be less common in this part of Gor.

 

“How long have you owned her?” asked Darian.

 

“Not long. A number of weeks. I’m sure you can tell she is new to her slavery, but coming along very nicely, in my opinion.”

 

“She oils well?”

 

“She oils quickly and is hot to my touch,” I said, without looking at Kelsee who would obviously be embarrassed at the way I was describing her now. I heard a small plaintive cry from her mouth, but still, she did not dare speak. She was gagged by the will of her Master. She must be silent. I found the idea of silencing a woman with a simple command actually quite exciting. 

 

“How did you come to acquire her?” he asked.

 

Again, I had no idea what, if anything, Kelsee had said about me. I didn’t think she would have described her original relationship with me to Darian. If I was going to help her at all, I had to be seen to be a free man, and not a former silk slave. “I am an outlaw. I abducted her.”

 

“Why specifically her?”

 

“It amused me. She was haughty, proud, condescending. I thought she would look good in chains.” I smiled again. “It turns out I was right. She looks superb in chains.”

 

“Oh!" cried Kelsee, angered by this.

 

“Quiet,” snapped Darian. “Or you will feel the whip.”

 

She quickly lowered her head and trembled.

 

“Excellent,” I said, again trying to convey the true Gorean ethos, as I understood it. “You handle her superbly.”

 

“She is intelligent. Highly intelligent, I suspect. Such women adapt quickly and well to the realities of their new position. It is the stupid, unimaginative girls who prove troublesome and have to be beaten many times before they understand what has been done to them. This girl has the intelligence to understand her situation and what is expected of her now. Intelligence is keenly sought after, and adds to a girl’s price. Who would want a stupid, unimaginative slave?”

 

“You say she claims to know you?” I wanted to know what Kelsee had said to hm.

 

“So she claims.” Darian gazed at her. “Many girls have known me over the years, though most did so in collars. She claims to have known me when she was free. Indeed, she claims to still be free.”

 

“How can she possibly claim that?” I asked.

 

“She tells me she has never been branded. That at least is true.”

 

“I was going to brand her in Corcyrus. It is where I am headed.”

 

“Why do you go there?”

 

I held up my left hand. Again the Argentum brand worked to my favour. 

 

“You were outlawed by Argentum, and so you seek a place in Corcyrus?”

 

I nodded. 

 

“And you claim to have an Argentum woman in your collar?” he said.

 

“Perhaps.” I smiled, as if her Home Stone was largely irrelevant to me.

 

“She also tells me that she has never been legally enslaved. No papers have been drawn up, and she has not been certified a slave by my caste.”

 

“I am less inclined to concern myself with such niceties than you,” I said. “I am an outlaw. We simply take women and put them in collars. She will soon learn what she is when she squirms helplessly as a slave in Corcyrus. I may establish slave papers for her in that city, or I may not.”

 

“Papers are helpful,” said Darian.

 

“Spoken by a man who charges handsomely for the service of providing them?”

 

“Indeed.” 

 

“You know as well as I do that her claims to be a Free Woman are largely irrelevant. All that matters now is the collar about her throat. She is a slave if a man takes her and says she is a slave. I am not constrained by a Home Stone of Argentum. Neither are you, truly. You are of Talmont, are you not?”

 

“I am,” said Darian.

 

“Talmont, in the foothills of the Voltai mountains?”

 

“The same.”

 

“Well then, let’s not pretend for a moment that you shed any tears at seeing a woman of Argentum in a collar. In fact, I would suppose she isn’t the first woman of Argentum to be in a collar in this camp”

 

Darian pretended mock outrage. “I am licensed by Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum. I can only deal in Coryrian women.”

 

“Of course. But sometimes women of Argentum can look much like Corcyrian women, can't they? And what of those Corcyrian sluts you are offered who pretend that they are of Argentum birth in the hope that they may be spared the collar?”

 

Darian smiled, understanding what I was suggesting. “You would be surprised at how many of the Corcyrian women we enslave at first stridently claim to be of Argentum. Sometimes they have gone to the trouble of memorizing many facts and details of the city of Argentum, in case they ever needed to try and deceive me in that way.”

 

“The shameful sluts,” I said, playing along with Darian’s little joke. “I hope you whipped them for lying to you?”

 

“Of course. They are whipped until they confess their claim was a lie all along. Such admissions are witnessed, clearly documented, and then they are enslaved as self-confessed Corcyrian sluts. All is then well with the world.”

 

“Presumably such Corcyrian sluts are not taken to, and sold, specifically in Argentum, where they might continue to complain in such a manner?”

 

“Usually not,” admitted Darian. “There are other markets where they do well. Torcadino, for example. Or further afield. In those cities the matter of their origin is largely irrelevant. In Torcadino no one actually cares whether a hot slave was once of Argentum or Corcyrus. And why should they? All they care about is the heat between the girl’s thighs.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“In any event it is easy enough to determine whether a captive Free Woman, brought to me by outlaws, is of Corcyrus or Argentum.”

 

“How is that?”

 

“I simply put the girl to the caress of the slaver – that intimate caress that determines their sexual responses and propensity for oiling. I am reliably informed by Claudius, the Ubar of Argentum, that the women of his city are chaste and pure, dignified and frigid. Their responses will accordingly be miniscule at best. The Corcyrian women, on the other hand, are all natural slaves; lascivious sluts who hide their true nature behind veils and robes. They, when tested with the slaver’s caress, soon become helpless wanton slaves, oiling quickly.”

 

“A simple, yet perfect test.”

 

“I think so,” said Darian. “To that end I have yet to receive, into my custody, a true woman of Argentum.”

 

“Did she say how she knows you?” I enquired. I was again probing for information. 

 

“I didn’t ask. She is a slave. Why should I care if she once spoke to me in a market, or once had tea with me amongst mutual friends? I have little regard for Free Women, in so far as they are essentially worthless. Only when they are placed in collars and branded do they acquire any value. And then, men of my caste are able to value them precisely, subject to fluctuating market conditions. She wanted to tell me, of course, but I commanded her to silence.”

 

Darian’s lack of curiosity was certainly to my advantage here.

 

“I suppose a Free Woman will say anything to try and preserve her freedom.”

 

“Yes, they will.”

 

“What of the women of Turia?, number 79?” asked Darian as he gazed at Kulai. “Do they resemble the frigid women of Argentum, or the natural slaves of Corcyrus?”

 

Kulai stiffened. She was angry with the man; with the way he kept referring to her by the number on the ankle ring she held in her left hand. She had retained the ring, sensing Darian would not be pleased if she casually discarded it. She held it loosely, with two fingers of her left hand. She could feel the steel anklet ring as she stood there.

 

“From the description you give, if the clear distinction is to be believed, we resemble the women of Argentum.”

 

“Frigid?” suggested Darian, pleasantly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Cold and stiff, if put to their backs on a couch?”

 

“Apparently so,” said Kulai.

 

“Excellent," said Darian. “I now understand how I may clearly identify a woman of Turia." 

 

Kulai turned her face from him, as if to say he was beneath her contempt. She gazed at Kelsee, kneeling, stripped, chained to a slave post. She raised the tilt of her head a little, as if to look down upon the slave more appropriately. Her gaze was condescending, and angry. This slave had caused her much trouble and discomfort. Kulai would no doubt insist on whipping Kelsee once we took custody of her again. This is to be expected if a girl dares to run away for the first time. The punishments become much more severe in the event of a second attempt to escape. 

 

“Can we move on to do business?” I asked. “You are a slaver, and she is a slave. It is obviously in the interests of your caste to sell her sooner rather than later.”

 

Darian regarded me. “But what if she is indeed, in some curious sense, a Free Woman?”

 

“She wears a collar. She is my slave.”

 

“Ah!” Darian nodded. He turned his head and looked at Kelsee, kneeling by the post on the grass. “Slaves have been known to make many claims, in their time, but it is unusual for a slave girl to appeal to me and claim we have a connection of sorts. It is a very bold thing to say. And, I think, an unusual thing to say.”

 

“Does it matter if you met her once? No doubt you would have found her irritating, pretentious, haughty, arrogant, even.”

 

“Perhaps. Those are traits that are familiar in a Free Woman, are they not, number 79?”

 

“Do not call me that,” said Kulai. “I am not one of your slave girls. I am Kulai of Turia. I am a Free Woman.”

 

Darian smiled when he heard that. “You have a preference for a different ankle ring number? I can probably accommodate that.”

 

Kulai tossed her head dismissively and again looked away from Darian, refusing to show any respect while he spoke to her that way. 

 

“Can we discuss a price?” I said.

 

“Make your best offer. You will only have one opportunity, so if you want this girl, make it an offer that I cannot refuse.”

 

“Three silver tarsks,” I said.

 

Darian turned and walked towards Kelsee who knelt beside the other girl in chained nadu, with her head down. 

 

“You will speak only to answer my questions, and in doing so you shall answer clearly, concisely, and without straying from the point. Do you understand?’

 

“Yes, Master,” she said. 

 

“If you are a slave, I will brand you with the common kef. But if you lie to me, I will cut your throat and leave you to bleed out on the grass. So I ask you now, are you a slave?”

 

“No, Master.” She trembled before him, but was strangely brave in what she said. 

 

“You understand that if I determine you are a slave, I will now kill you?”

 

“Yes, Master.” Her eyes looked terrified. What was she doing? This was getting very serious. 

 

“This man claims you are his collared slave.”

“I am not his slave, Master. I am nothing more than a captive Free Woman. May I speak, Master?”

 

“No. You will only answer my questions. You acknowledge he captured you?’

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“A man may enslave a woman that he captures.”

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

“Then why do you think you are not a slave?”

 

“Because he cannot own me, Master. He cannot own anything. He is my silk slave.”

 

Fuck. She went and said it. She was so afraid of the brand, that she went and said it. My face remained impassive, scornful, as Darian briefly gazed round at me. 

 

“Your silk slave?”

 

“May I speak, Master?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I am the Lady Savanna of Argentum! You have met me twice now. Once at my home when you came to share supper with me and the Lady Kelapina, and once before that when you took me by tarnback from a silver ship landing site to Argentum. Look at me, Master. I am as naked as that day you pulled me from a slave cylinder and strapped me to your tarn back. Look at me closely. You know my body.”

 

Darian cupped Kelsee’s face in his hands and studied her properly for the first time since he had her chained in the branding tent. He ran his hands over her naked body, remembering perhaps the way she had felt as she had been strapped across his saddle in flight and he had presumably toyed with her while she was drugged and unconscious, still.

 

“What is this?” said Kulai, turning to face me, confused. “Why is she saying this?”

I felt my cheeks burning. Shut up, Kelsee. Just shut the fuck up. 

 

“It is my understanding,” said Kelsee, quickly, “that a slave cannot own anything. By that legal definition, it is impossible for a slave to own a Free Woman. He can abduct her, but he can never legally own her, and therefore he can never make her a slave. Only a free person can enslave another free person. I therefore remain free from the moment he abducted me. I am therefore free now. Furthermore, you know who I am, and you know that the House of Diamandis will offer you a large reward for my safe return. A very large reward. Furthermore you will earn the gratitude of the powerful House of Bannon, which is no small matter.”

 

Kulai gripped my arm suddenly. “What is this? Say something? Don’t just stand there! Tell that slut she is lying. Whip her for lying!”

 

“She lies,” I said in as bored a fashion as I could make my voice sound. “I have heard ridiculous claims before, but this is farcical.” Kelsee had no way of proving such a claim, of course. It’s not as if she carried papers on me. 

 

Darian nodded. “You expect me to believe this?” he said to Kelsee.

 

“His collar size is 11.6 horts. His wrist shackle size is 5.15 horts, and his ankle size for similar shackling is 6.55 horts. I know these things because I am his mistress, and because the Lady Kelapina recommended I should memorise crucial data about the body of my slave in case I ever had to prove ownership.” She swept her eyes towards me, determined now to avoid the iron brand. “I can list at least five other measurements that I would only know if he was my silk slave. When aroused, his penis is 4.31 horts in length, and 3.5 horts in girth. When at rest it shrinks to 2.6 horts in length. Do you need to know more?”

 

Darian raised himself from a crouched position and regarded me. “Are those your measurements?”

 

“Of course not. She is making the figures up. She is my slave.”

 

“You will perhaps not object then to one of my men taking your collar, wrist and ankle sizes? She gave me very precise numbers, after all.”

 

We stared at one another for a moment. I then drew my blade.

 

Darian clapped his hands together and stepped quickly back, as within a moment, three men entered the tent from the open flap. They too were armed: one with a sword and shield; one with two swords; and one with a capture net.

 

“Put down the sword,” said Darian.

 

Kulai was in shock. She stared at me in disbelief. 

 

“Make me put down the sword,” I said. My eyes narrowed. I would go down fighting. I would not submit a second time. I was a man. 

 

“What is going on?” screamed Kulai. She was speaking to me. “You aren’t a silk slave!”

 

“It appears he is,” said Darian. “This is an interesting turn of events.” He stepped out of reach of my blade as his men interjected. Kulai moved to one side of me. She looked wildly about for a weapon, but couldn’t find one. 

 

“I am under the protection of Stannis Assante!” she cried. “Stannis Assante! And this is my Free Companion! He is not a woman’s silk slave! He is not! We are leaving! Do not try and stop us!” She was unarmed but she held out the nails of her hands. She was very brave. 

 

“No you’re not,” said Darian. He motioned for his men to close in on me from three sides. I lunged with my blade at the nearest man with a sword and shield, counting on the fact that the man with the capture net couldn’t entangle me while I was so close to his colleague. I tried to remember what Rolfe had taught me, and I counted on the fact that none of these men were warriors, just common slavers. The ferocity of my staccato attack sent the man stumbling back as he made to parry my initial thrusts. I moved quickly, doing exactly what Rolfe had drilled into me, time and again. I turned his blade in mid-parry and then looped my own blade in a semi-circle with the aid of gravity, bypassing his clumsy shield swing, cutting down into his thigh, before stepping back, away from the man with two blades, to give me the split second to return my blade to guard position and turn towards my second opponent. I heard a scream as the first man dropped to one knee, mutilated. 

 

But of course I was now a target for the capture net. It was weighted on the sides and it was thrown expertly over me as soon as there was an opening. I found myself immediately entangled, and that gave the third man time to kick out at my ankles and sweep me off my feet. I crashed down onto the ground, further entangling myself. And then both the uninjured men were on top of me, rolling me further into the net and immobilising me. 

 

I heard Kulai screaming as she threw herself at the back of the man who had thrown the net on me. She reached from behind and tried to claw at his eyes with her nails, only to be knocked aside by the uninjured swordsman. It was a powerful blow with the full strength of his clenched fist, and the weight of the sword hilt within that fist, and Kulai, simply a woman, with a woman’s strength and weight, was knocked back across the interior of the tent. She lay stunned, unable to comprehend what had just happened to her. A powerful looking man had taken her out of the fight with just a single blow. She tried to get up, but couldn’t.  

 

There is a reason why women do not fight in shield walls. 

 

By now several other men had entered the tent. Darian motioned with a tilt of his head, and two of them went to where Kulai lay on the grass. She was dragged up to her knees, a man holding each arm; Kulai still dazed and reeling from the powerful blow that had rendered her helpless. Her head swayed as she tried to focus. 

 

She had been very brave, but ultimately she was only a woman on Gor. How could they compete with men in battle?

 

“Stannis Assante will kill every man in this camp if you harm one of his Free Women!” said Kulai. Blood dribbled down from her mouth. “Every single man!” 

 

“I’m sure he will avenge a Free Woman,” said Darian. “But is that you?”

 

“Every single one of you!” Kulai screamed. “And you…” she stared at Darian. “You, he will open up your gut with a sleen knife and he will drag you, still living, tied to the back of his tharlarion, riding three times around your burning camp at a gallop pace until your blood and spilled entrails marks a circle of death!”

 

“There are two things you should know,” Darian said to Kulai. He looked down upon her as she was forced into a rough kneeling position before him, with both arms gripped by her wrists. “Firstly, you have never been Free Companioned.”

 

Kulai spat into his face. Darian nodded, seemingly deciding something as he wiped the spittle away with his hand. “A Free Woman cannot take a slave as a Free Companion, and that is what this man has been from the very first day you met him. He is a silk slave who kneels and crawls and begs to serve his mistress. He disgusts me.”

 

“Liar!” Kulai struggled fiercely, but she was only a woman, with a woman’s strength. 

 

“And the second thing you must know, is that Argentum is a close ally of Ar, and as such, adopts many of Ar’s laws. Tell me, former woman of Turia, with the long glossy hair, are you aware of the Couching Law of Ar?”

 

Kulai’s face suddenly went deathly pale. I had no idea what this law might be, but it clearly terrified Kulai. 

 

“No…” she whimpered. “No! NO!”

 

“The couching law of Ar states quite clearly that if a Free Woman gives herself to a male slave for the purpose of sex, at that precise moment she becomes the legal property of the slave’s owner. You, my dear, have been the slave girl of the Lady Savanna of Argentum from the very moment you opened yourself to the man you foolishly believed was your Free Companion. You have in fact been arrogantly masquerading as a Free Woman all that time. You will of course be whipped for it, after you are handed back, to be collared and branded before your true mistress.”