The Paga Diaries (20) by Arizona Wanderer: ‘Banishment’

 

I really did not want to be around Mirus and Tereus.  I was disgusted with the beating of Lina by Mirus.  Her little laugh when my string broke was harmless.  It probably did look funny to her and I was not offended at all. I have never owned a woman but it seemed to me that Mirus had a very heavy hand when it came to disciplining Lina.  I wanted to take her away and make her my own.  I was hoping that Mirus would change his mind about selling her to me.  I did not feel like spending the afternoon with them but I was thankful for his work on my gemstone appraisal, and everything else that he had done for me.  I did not want to offend him.  

 

It was very easy to say yes to going to the Dautium Square Market with its luxury taverns and the exceptional variety of beautiful slave girls who worked in them.  We went into the Shackle and Chain again and were looking for a low table close to the sand pit where the slaves dance.  To me the dance was a show, a mesmerizing display of sensuous skill, passion and beauty.  I got distracted by the moves of a short brunette in the pit and didn’t notice a man waving at us to join him at his low table.  

 

The man was Atticus, the hulk of a man who was an officer of the city guard and whom I had met last time I was here.  The three of us joined him at his table and ordered paga, except for Mirus, who ordered ka-la-na. 

 

“Tal Atticus, has the Shackle and Chain become a new guard station for our city?” Mirus joked. 

 

“Tal. I am exploring guard station locations that increase the surveillance opportunities of criminals,” Atticus said. 

 

“Criminals? I don’t see any criminals. The Shackle is too high class of a place for criminals to frequent,” Mirus said.

 

“I have found that criminals come from any class or caste.”

 

“Well, I will be sure to point out any of them to you, should I see one,” Mirus replied.

 

We drank paga and enjoyed the scenery of beautiful scantily clad silk slaves walking past us, serving the guests of the tavern.  The talk at the table became consumed by this scenery as everyone made comments of things that pleased their eye. 

 

After a bit, Mirus asked Atticus, “Rykart has asked me to help find someone to train him in the use of the sword. He is willing to pay for lessons. Do you know anyone who would be willing?”

 

Atticus looked at me for a moment and said, “Yes. I would like to have every man in this city learn to use the sword. Rykart, do you intend on making our fine city your home?”

 

“Yes,” I said.

 

“Good. Would you be willing to swear loyalty to protecting our Home Stone?”

 

I hesitated and feigned ignorance by saying, “Home Stone?”  With all of the war talk in the city, I had contemplated leaving, in search of peaceful places.

 

“He is a barbarian and probably has no idea what loyalty to a home stone is,” Mirus said. “But I think he has a promising future in Argentum. I am confident that he will learn our customs quickly, with the right influences around him.”

 

“Well, we don’t want to be teaching sword skills to strangers. But since you are vouching for him, I will arrange for lessons,” Atticus said.  I learned later that the Gorean word for stranger was the same word for enemy. 

 

“Thank you, Sir,” I said.

 

A red haired slave girl walked past us carrying paga and all of us turned to watch her go by.  On her shoulders, she wore a small green diaphanous silk, that was wrapped about her large breasts, but in a way that showed ample cleavage.  She was nude from the waist down and the green silk contrasted with her red hair and the creamy white skin on her legs.  The hairy red triangle between her legs also drew attention.  Everyone had a comment about her and those like her with a “fire crotch”.  I learned that most Gorean men believe that all red haired women are natural slaves, as they have fiery temperaments that can be focused into intense passions and a desire to please men.  Someone mentioned a man named Trakkar, of the Slaver caste, who had written extensively on the subject and was considered to be a definitive expert regarding such things.  Everyone at our table agreed that they should all be enslaved and their slave heat should be carefully developed and honed by their masters.  I also learned that most Gorean men believe that all women are natural slaves, and should be collared, regardless of hair colour. 

 

While drinking our paga, we all enjoyed the scenery some more and the dancing girls in the sand pit.  Another silk wrapped slave girl walked by our table, a magnificent blond, very curvaceous.  Her name was Thea, and I remembered her being pointed out the last time I was here.  They said she was new and moved well in the furs.  Maybe I would take her to an alcove later and see just how well she moves.

 

In between pit dancers Mirus turned to me and said “Rykart, I have thought about your offer to buy Lina from me.  I have only your best interest in mind when I tell you that she would not be right for you. You may put her to use when you visit my home, but you would be much better served by a Gorean born kajira.  You are ready to own and master a woman and become Gorean. I would be happy to take you to some of the fine slaving houses in this area that always stock high quality slut animals.”

 

“I, understand. Yes, we go to slave house sometime,” I replied.

 

We continued to drink and an ahn later the red haired kajira walked by again.  Mirus stood up and said loudly, “I have to have some of that!”  He walked after her and grabbed her wrist, directing her to an alcove.  Tereus stood up too and sought out a blond for his use.

 

Soon after they left a petite brunette came to our table to ask if we needed anything.  Atticus directed her to kneel in nadu next to him and began to caress her thighs.  She wore pleasure silk and he was toying with it, peeling it away from her breasts and then fondling them.  

 

Seeing all the beautiful half nude women walking around, dancing, serving, and now watching Atticus caressing and fondling luscious slave flesh in front of me, my excitement level had climbed way past an initial stir, to full blown lust.  I looked for Thea, but did not see her.  I noticed Lita, who had served us our first round of drinks, pass close to our table and I called her name.

 

“Yes Master?” she said and knelt next to me, knees wide in nadu.  I stood up to take her to an alcove when I noticed Julian, walk over.  Julian Lepidus was a city Magistrate and a friend of Atticus, that Mirus had introduced me to when he brought me here.  I remember not really caring for him and the way he tried to dominate conversations.  He had two beautiful slaves with him that were not wearing the tavern pleasure silk.  

 

“Ho, Atticus, shouldn’t you be on duty?” Julian asked with a smile, as Atticus was getting kissed on his neck and shoulder by the brunette slave girl. 

 

Julian turned to me and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you. Have you had her before?”

 

“Her name Lita, and no, this my first time with her,” I said.

 

Also with Julian, was a tall handsome man with a fine slave girl following him.  He said, “Tal, my name is Roland.” I was surprised that I could tell that he had an accent, Gorean was not his native language.  My initial impression was that his accent was British.  Interesting.  We exchanged brief wry smiles and a knowing wink in recognition of each other’s foreign accent.  

 

I continued with Lita to the alcove.  Once we had stepped inside the curtain, I tugged at the knot and watched the silk fall from her shoulders.  I had no doubt that as a tavern silk slave she would immediately obey any command I gave her.  “Nadu,” I said, and she dropped to the floor of the alcove and spread her knees wide. “Bracelets,” I told Lita and she put her hands behind her back.  I used a piece of binding fibre to tie them together.  I took off my tunic and sat on the edge of the shelf that was a couch.  With my hands behind her head, I guided her mouth onto my eager shaft.  The thrill of having her physically restrained and helpless, controlling her use, was very exhilarating.  It is a feeling that is very hard to describe, and is best left to actually experiencing, versus trying to put into words. 

 

I woke early and walked to Mirus’s house for my third stabilization injection.  When I got there, Fen let me in, took me back to the green exam room and administered the dose.  I did not ask if Mirus was about.  I noticed that my kalika was in the foyer when I entered.  I grabbed it and left without seeing anyone else in the house. 

 

Atticus had given me directions to his city guard station and told me that mornings were best for sword training.  I was stopped at the entrance by a uniformed guardsman and asked to state my name and business.  I asked for Atticus and was let inside and ushered to his very small office.  His statement yesterday about exploring guard station locations came to mind. 

 

“Rykart, I must tell you that I would not be doing this for you if it were not for Mirus’s friendship with Julian. Our city is in need of as many skilled men-at-arms as it can get, but I am hesitant to train barbarians.  We are at war and need to be careful. We had to banish a barbarian yesterday. You met him in the Shackle yesterday?” he said. 

 

Banish!  Was it the tall handsome Englishman?  Roland, I think his name was?  What did he do to be banished? I didn’t want to have any appearance of association with this banished man.  Just because we are both from Earth, should not mean we are associates. 

 

“I don’t know,” I said. 

 

“I thought you two were introduced.  He came into the Shackle with Julian and had a pretty slave with him.  It seemed as though you two may have already met?”

 

“Oh yes, I remember now.  I never met before. What did he do?” I asked.

 

“He had a very strange and stubborn refusal to comply with our laws. I still don’t understand it.”

 

“Which laws?” I asked.  I was getting worried; I did not want any perception of me not complying with any laws.  I did not want to be banished. 

 

“The slave that was with him, she had been newly collared, and we noticed that she was not branded. Argentum requires that slaves be branded. He claimed ignorance and apologized. Julian as a magistrate could not let this go, he generously suggested that the slave be branded immediately to correct the infraction.”

 

“But banish?” I asked, trying to pronounce a new word.  I thought I understood what he was saying so far but I wasn’t getting the reason for banishment.

 

“The barbarian, Roland, absolutely refused to have his slave branded. It didn’t make any sense. He was fined a hefty five silver tarsk, which he could barely pay. And instead of branding his slave, he was branded as an outlaw and then expelled from the city with his slave.”

 

“What? Brand?” I said, shocked.

 

“Yes, branded on his hand so that all may see he is an outlaw.”

 

“I buy slave, she get brand,” I said, struggling to find something to say. 

 

“Good. I don’t know why anyone would hesitate to brand their slave, especially if it is the law.”

 

I agreed with him, but I didn’t know what to say.

 

“Roland also did not have residency papers, he claimed ignorance of this requirement.  If you intend to stay here, we will proceed with your training.  And, you will need to obtain residency papers until you understand what a home stone is. The punishment for being in the city without these papers is severe. You will be fed to sleen,” he said.

 

“Yes Sir, I understand. I need papers.”  There was that ‘fed to sleen’ phrase again.  Were people on Gor actually fed to animals as punishment?  I was getting very curious about what a sleen was. 

 

“Good. Thank you for buying me drinks yesterday. Let’s go outside to the training yard,” he said. 

 

We went through a door and out into a large yard with many guardsmen.  Many of them were sparring.  Others were in formation, being addressed by a leader in front.  In the back corner, men were practicing archery skills, shooting arrows into straw bales. 

 

“Breg!” Atticus called out.

 

A large man came over to us and said, “Captain?”

 

“Breg, this is Rykart. He is here to be trained in the use of the gladius. Start him out with the recruits. His Gorean is rough, but he is learning,” Atticus said.

 

“Yes Sir,” Breg said.

 

Atticus turned to me and said, “Show me your blade.” I drew my gladius and handed it to him, hilt first.  He looked at me and took it, then looked at the sword. 

“It is good quality, but your first lessons will be with a wooden sword.”

 

Breg gave me a wooden sword and a padded leather shirt.  We started with some basics.  The first thing I learned was the importance of footing and a proper stance.  Balance, coordination and flexibility all rely on good footwork.  Then I was told how to hold the weapon, and shown basic movements for parries, thrusts, cuts, working up to more difficult moves for lunges, sweeps, etc. 

 

After almost two hours of basic instruction from Breg, he assigned me a sparring partner.  He was a very young man, eighteen perhaps and full of energy.  He beat me thoroughly as Breg yelled out coaching instructions.  We had five ehn sessions that seemed like thirty ehn.  My initial efforts where focused on defence, thwarting his blows.  We took much needed breaks between sessions and then started into the next round of five ehn. 

 

Two hours of intense sparring cycles wore me out.  My body was tired and beat.  I had a split lip and was probably going to have visible bruises on my arms tomorrow.  I thanked Breg and left the guard station.  I was sweaty and needed a bath, and was dreading washing myself from a bucket in my apartment.  I really needed to move to a place that had running water and indoor plumbing.  Are there showers on Gor?  I sure was missing them.  On my way home, I picked up some paga and meat pies.  I was looking forward to an evening of relaxing and strumming on my kalika.