Gods of Gor Chapter Eleven

 

Chapter Eleven: A Slave Tunic

 

I have no idea whether Gorean psychologists (if that caste even exists) have ever done a study on kajirae, but if they did, they will almost certainly have noticed the awkward way kajirae act and speak when they are in the presence of a Free Woman who they know will almost certainly be collared and branded in a short while. 

 

Kajirae are terrified of Free Women – and rightly so – but a subtle change occurs when the Free Woman is obviously heading towards enslavement. On the surface there is still a deference shown – the woman is free, after all – but like feral street cats that cautiously approach the offer of food, half expecting it to be a trap, we begin to test the boundaries of what we can say and do. It helps if the Free Woman in question has an inkling that she is going to be enslaved. If she’s observant enough to understand that, she will also understand that she has everything to lose by antagonising women who will very soon be chained to her in a coffle. One of us will almost certainly be a First Girl, and she will be subject to the switch. An Intelligent Free Woman in such a situation will begin to moderate her behaviour during the remaining days, or hours, in which she is free. 

 

But even if the Free Woman doesn’t understand her ultimate fate, kajirae tend to grow bolder in the way they respond to her commands and rebukes. We have strength in numbers, and as soon as we scent change in the air – as soon as we see a change in the way men treat the Free Woman – perhaps removing her clothing, placing her under some capture disciplines – then we begin to take risks.

 

And so it was, that all four of us watched silently as Tijani helped the Lady Taleisha into the canoe.

 

The naked Lady Taleisha.

 

He lifted her dripping wet body from the water. 

 

I’m sure we were all assessing her body – speculating on what sort of rival she might become in the furs for the men’s attention. Did I smile a little, recalling the whippings she had inflicted on me, as she was placed on her knees in the canoe? Did I resist smiling too much as she quickly covered her nakedness with the palms of her hands. Did we forget to look away in deference as she looked at each of us in turn, realising she was amongst women who had no reason to like her.

 

I took strength from the knowledge that Brinn didn’t like Taleisha. Her slavery would be harsh if she was collared. She would be subject to strict discipline, and Brinn would not object to the kajirae seeking revenge on her for past slights when she had been free.

 

Oh, but I was looking forward to this.

 

“Mistress,’ I said, in a voice that might suggest I wasn’t being 100% respectful. 

 

She was dripping wet, whereas we were almost baked dry by the overhead sun. I felt Mina’s hip brush mine as she subconsciously joined me, the way alley cats might line up when they see a potential rival. I glanced at Mina and smiled, seeing her smile back. Our arguments were now forgotten. We had someone else to focus on.

 

“Give me clothing,” said Lady Taleisha. She was all too aware that she was only girl in the canoe who was completely naked. She crouched in the canoe with her knees pressed together to cover her sex, while her hands covered her breasts. 

 

I had mixed feelings about adding another slave to the canoe. I already had enough competition from Mina and Saffron, but I felt reassured that Taleisha wouldn’t be much of a threat to me at least as Brinn really didn’t like her. My only concern was that if Tijani put her to use frequently – early on at least – Saffron and Mina would be more frequently available for Brinn to use. But that aside, it would be fun to see the haughty Taleisha in a slave collar.

 

I felt Mina touch the back of my hand with her fingers – a little shared confirmation that it would be all of us against the soon-to-be slave girl. How long? I reckon she’d be in a collar within two days at the most. The way Tijani was looking at her right now…

 

“Why are you looking at me like that,” said Lady Taleisha. 

 

“My apologies, lady, I am simply admiring your beauty.”

 

“Well don’t,” she snapped. “You have me at a disadvantage. Look at a slave if you must look at a girl in this canoe. I need clothing.”

 

“Do we have any gags in our luggage, Chloe?” asked Brinn as he lay in the canoe, being comforted by Saffron.

 

“No, Master, we didn’t pack any.”

 

“A shame.”

 

“How far is it to this trading post?” asked Lady Taleisha. She dismissed the remark about the availability of gags, as Free Women would tend to do in such a situation.

 

“I am hoping we may arrive there sometime tomorrow,” said Tijani. “It is a trading post maintained by Schendi merchants.”

 

“And what do thy deal in?’ asked Lady Taleisha. 

 

“Slaves, mostly.” He grinned, seeming to relish the answer. “The tribes from the deep interior bring captive women to the trading post. The Schendi merchants purchase them at a fraction of the going price in the port city, taking advantage of the fact that the inland tribes have no interest in travelling to the port themselves. The women are branded and collared at the trading post, where all legalities are ensured. They are then shipped by slave barge to the coast where they are exhibited on the public auction blocks. It is quite the public spectacle in Schendi when slave barges arrive from the jungle interior. Crowds often gather to watch the unloading.”

 

“I see.” The Lady Taleisha regarded us, one at a time. “And when your business at the trading post is conducted, you will escort me back to my village?”

 

“You can travel on one of the merchant barges,” said Brinn. 

 

“The merchant barge is a slave transport barge,” said Taleisha. “it is not suitable for a Free Woman.” 

 

“It floats,” said Brinn. “What more do you want?”

 

“A cabin. Handmaidens. Respect shown to me. May I remind you that you are under an obligation to me? My village offered you hospitality.”

 

I could tell that Brinn was silently fuming. No doubt there was some sort of Warrior caste code that applied here. There usually was. “My obligation only extends to getting you safely to the trading post. From there on other men can convey you back to your village.”

 

“Other men? Slavers, you mean? How is that bringing me to a place of safety?”

 

“We will pay the slavers,” said an annoyed Brinn. “We will pay them to convey you up river.”

“Up river? And where to? The slave markets of Schendi? Why do you think these men – who you have not even met yet – will honour any agreement with you once they sail away? You strike me as very gullible.”

 

Ooh… it’s usually not a good idea to call Brinn gullible. Go on, Lady Taleisha – insult him some more! 

 

“Slavers are honourable men,” said Brinn. “They will give me their word.”

 

“Their word?” Taleisha shook her head. “Forgive me, warrior, if I do not take comfort from that once I am onboard a slave barge, undefended, surrounded by coffles of slaves taken from the river settlements. Perhaps there might be a bureaucratic mistake up river, and I find myself ankle chained amongst the sluts?”

 

Brinn muttered something under his breath that could have been I hope so. 

 

“What was that?” said Lady Taleisha, sharply. “Dd you mutter something?”

 

The Lady of course had a point. I would not want to be a Free Woman – presumably dressed in a brief slave tunic – trusting to the honour of river slavers as they conveyed me up river towards the slave markets of Schendi. 

 

“I will know if they lie to me,” said Brinn. 

 

“Really?” Taleisha shook her head again. “This strikes me as a dereliction of your duty. Your caste has rules. I am clearly an inconvenience to you, and to your honour. You secretly hope I will be enslaved!” She began to wail. “So much for your honour!”

 

“My honour is sacred!” snarled Brinn. He had momentarily forgotten what Saffron was doing for him as he sat up in the canoe. 

 

“Then prove it!” demanded Lady Taleisha. “We gave you hospitality. Does that mean nothing in the cities?”

 

She knew of course it meant a lot. Tijani didn’t order us to paddle the canoe to one of the river banks at first. I think he wanted to put some distance between us and the ambush site, and perhaps he enjoyed gazing at the increasingly angry figure of Taleisha. She remained naked in a canoe full of women who at least wore cloth wraps about their hips. She knew the men had a spare tunic, but she seemed reluctant to ask for it. In the end though it was too much for her.

 

“I want the tunic,” said Taleisha.

 

“The slave tunic?” enquired Tijani.

 

“The tunic, yes,” she snapped, refusing to use the word ‘slave’.

 

“As commonly worn by slaves?” Tijani seemed to enjoy teasing the Free Woman. I think she had hurt his feelings with her lack of gratitude earlier on. 

 

“Yes – a tunic as commonly worn by slaves. Why do you belabour the point!”

 

“I would not want to insult you, Lady Taleisha, by inadvertently offering you such a thing by accident. Think of your pride and dignity?”

 

“I am naked! A tunic is better than nothing!”

 

“Chloe,” Tijani called to our First Girl, “offer the Lady the spare slave tunic in our luggage.”

 

Chloe resisted a smile as she rummaged in one of the travel sacks and found the one remaining slave tunic that we carried. It was actually more modest than the wraps of cloth that we kajirae wore about our hips, so there would be that distinction when the Lady wore it, but still it was very brief and deeply slashed at the front. 

 

“Your slave tunic, Mistress,” said Chloe as she presented Taleisha with the scandalous garment. I notice she had included the word ‘slave’ in its description. 

 

“Pull over to the river bank,” ordered Taleisha. “I can’t dress myself while this canoe is moving.”

 

Tijani nodded and directed us to pull over to the side of the river once we rounded the next bend. “Be quick, and do not stray out of my sight,” said Tijani. 

 

Taleisha looked angry again as she splashed down into the shallows and waded towards the raised ground clutching the thin rep cloth in her left hand. It was safer for her to remain in the men’s sight, but it meant they would watch her dress herself. 

 

“Beast!” she said as she splashed through the thigh deep water. It was impossible for her to conceal her naked body while she waded to the river bank. And then she noticed us staring. “Your slaves are looking at me!” She snapped.

 

“Slaves do that,” muttered Brinn. “It’s what eyes are for.” To my amazement he couldn’t be bothered to take the Free Woman’s side. 

 

“Have them whipped!” demanded Taleisha. “They are clearly looking at me in an insolent manner!”

 

“Lady, I am tired, and I am wounded. I’m really not in the mood for this,” said Brinn. 

 

The canoe rocked gently as Tijani steadied it against the riverbank, the hull scraping softly over submerged roots. The Nyoka here was narrower, its waters darker beneath the overhanging canopy, and the air felt heavier, thick with the scent of wet earth and the faint rot of fallen leaves. Brinn remained seated in the stern, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other idly trailing in the water. His expression was one of weary indifference, but I knew him well enough to read the flicker of irritation beneath it. Saffron knelt close beside him, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his thigh, offering silent comfort. Mina and Chloe had taken up positions near the bow, their eyes fixed on Lady Taleisha with the calm, predatory patience of kajirae who had long ago learned to wait for the inevitable. She was suddenly a nervous looking mouse to our cat like eyes. Just wait until you wear a collar, precious Lady, I thought to myself.

 

Taleisha stood ankle-deep in the shallows and then finally reached the shore. She raised her arms – an action that lifted the swell of her breasts – and struggled to pull the tunic down about her shoulders and body. She smoothed the fabric down about her hips and seemed surprised at how brief the hemline was. The garment was scandalously brief - shorter than any camisk I had worn in the pleasure pens of Ar, and slashed at the sides. The deep plunge of the neckline exposed the inner swell of her breasts, and the side slits rose high enough to reveal the smooth curve of hip with every movement. She tried to tug the fabric lower, but it only rode up again, exposing the tops of her thighs. Her hands fluttered uselessly, torn between covering her breasts and pulling at the hem.

 

“Turn your eyes away!” she snapped at us, voice sharp with the authority of a Free Woman who had not yet realized how fragile that authority had become. “You’re all sluts!”

 

I met Mina’s gaze. A small, shared smile passed between us—silent, conspiratorial. Chloe, ever the First Girl, simply raised an eyebrow, her expression serene but unmistakably amused. Saffron didn’t even bother to hide her grin; she rested her cheek against Brinn’s knee and watched the spectacle with open delight as Brinn ran a hand through her hair. He then sighed, the sound long and theatrical.

 

“Lady Taleisha,” he said, not bothering to look at her, “you demanded a tunic. You have one. If it displeases you, you may remove it. The river is warm. You’ll dry faster naked.”

 

Her head snapped toward him. “You would have me stand here exposed before your slaves?”

 

“You are already exposed,” Brinn pointed out, finally turning his head. His voice was flat, tired. “The pirates stripped you. We saved you. The tunic is courtesy. If you prefer to be naked, that is also courtesy.”

 

Taleisha’s face flushed a deep crimson. She glanced at Tijani, then back at Brinn, searching for an ally and finding none. Tijani merely shrugged, his dark eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. She had been unexpectedly rude to him earlier.  “The Lady is free,” Tijani said mildly. “She may choose how she wishes to travel.”

 

“Free?” Taleisha echoed, voice rising. “Free to be humiliated? Free to be laughed at by kajirae who should avert their eyes in my presence?”

 

Mina made a small sound - barely a breath - that might have been laughter. Chloe silenced her with a quick glance, but the damage was done. Taleisha’s gaze whipped toward us.

 

“You dare mock me?” she hissed. “You, who wear collars like animals?”

 

I felt the familiar heat rise in my chest - not anger, precisely, but something colder, sharper. I had suffered her whip in her village, when she had decided my deference was insufficient. The memory of those lashes still lingered on my skin, faint white lines that Brinn had traced with his fingers more than once, murmuring that they were beautiful in their own way.

 

I lowered my gaze - properly, as a kajira should - but my voice, when it came, was soft, almost sweet. “We mock nothing, gentle Mistress,” I said. “We merely observe. A Free Woman’s dignity is sacred. We would never dream of diminishing it.” My words were perfectly correct. The tone was not.

 

Taleisha’s eyes narrowed. She took a step toward the canoe, then stopped, suddenly aware of how exposed she was, how the tunic shifted with every movement, how the men - and we - were watching.

 

“You insolent slut,” she breathed. “I will have you whipped.”

 

Brinn’s hand came up, palm out. “Enough,” he said quietly.

 

The word carried weight. Taleisha froze.

 

Brinn looked at her - really looked at her - for the first time since the rescue. “You are naked, unarmed, alone on a river full of pirates and worse. You have no escort, no guard, no village behind you. You have only the word of two men who owe you nothing but the memory of a few nights’ hospitality. And you stand there lecturing my kajirae on respect.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees, voice dropping lower. “If you wish protection, you will show gratitude. If you wish courtesy, you will offer it. If you wish to reach your destination intact, you will remember that the river does not care for titles. It cares only for strength - and for those who know when to bend.”

 

Taleisha stared at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment I thought she would scream, or strike, or flee back into the jungle. Instead, she drew herself up, chin lifting in that haughty way she had. “I am Taleisha of the Himba,” she said, voice trembling but proud. “I will not beg.”

 

Brinn nodded once. “Then you will walk along the river bank.” He gestured to Tijani. “Push off.”

 

Tijani obeyed without comment. The canoe slid back into the current. Taleisha remained on the bank, hands clutching the tunic to her body, watching us go. I felt a small, vicious satisfaction bloom in my chest. Mina’s fingers brushed mine again - approval, solidarity. Chloe permitted herself a tiny smile.

 

Brinn glanced over his shoulder at the receding figure. “She’ll follow us,” he said quietly. “Pride will bring her. Pride always does.”

 

And sure enough, within minutes, we heard the splash of bare feet in the shallows, the rustle of someone scrambling along the bank, refusing to be left behind.

 

I settled back against the thwart, feeling the canoe rock gently beneath me.

 

Two days, I thought.

 

Two days at most.

 

And then the haughty Lady Taleisha would learn what it truly meant to be kajira.

 

I smiled into the sun, feeling the warmth on my face, and waited. Slaves learned early on to be patient.