Dancer of Gor

"And so, too, do they with their tharlarion, their tarsks, and their other animals."

"Yes," she whispered, and I saw her draw back, frightened. But, too, in a moment, I saw her shudder, suddenly thrilled to the quick. Then she lay down, in her collar, and her bit of silk, at the side of the shaft, trembling, not meeting our eyes.

We were then very quiet, all of us.

We did not know what our fate would be.

We were slaves. We must wait to learn.

29 The Meadow

"Not enough! Not enough!" cried the small, twisted fellow, with the yellowish, sallow complexion, crouching down, his back to us, pointing to the blanket spread there on the ground. The entire right side of his face was a whitened mass of ancient scar tissue. The ear on the right side of his head had been half torn away. It was almost as thought the right side of his face had been abraided by some terrifying, fierce passage, by some swift, lengthy, terrible friction, as of being dragged over rock. So disfigured one might doubt if he dared consort with his own kind. He seemed obviously to be held in contempt by the five men who squatted near him, on the other side of the blanket. To the right of the blanket, on the ground, there was a pack, filled, it seemed, with trinkets, a peddler" s pack. The small man was, it seemed, a peddler, or one who was concerned, at least, to give that impression.

"If you disapprove of our offer," said the leader of the five (382) men, a bearded fellow, "return to Tharna, and there mine the difference."

The small fellow sat back on his heels, angrily. "Too, there was to be meat, much meat!" he said.

"Do not be stupid," said one of the men squatting across from him. "We have brought you a quarter of a dried tarsk. That is enough for you to chew on for a month."

"It is not enough!" said the small fellow. "We need more!"

Do you have a pen of sleen?" asked one of the men.

The small fellow did not answer. But then, after a time, he repeated, guardedly, "We need more."

"You can buy more with the silver," said the man across from him, the leader of the five men.

The small fellow had two cohorts with him, who, like the others, were squatting down, but to our left. These felloes looked uneasily at one another.

"We are offering fifteen pieces of silver, fifteen solid, sound, unclipped silver tarsks," said the leader. "That is enough."

"It was to have been twenty-five!" said the small man. "Five for each!" "We will give you three for each," said the leader, putting his finger on his helmet, which was beside him, upturned, in the grass.

"No!" said the small fellow, and leaped up, angrily, and limping, approached us. "See them!" he said.:There is not one there who, stripped, would not bring high bids on the block! Is there one there whom a man would not dream of marching home naked before him, to fasten her to his slave ring! See those faces, those slave curves! There is not one of them who is not worth five tarsks!" "Three tarsks for each," said the leader. "Good tarsks."

"These two," said the small fellow, indicating Tupita and myself, "served in the tent of Pietro Vacchi. I know! I was in the camp!" he, then, I assumed, must be the human contact, or one of them, of the beasts. "And this one," he said, pointing to Tela, "was an overseer" s choice, a man who could pick from almost a hundred women, all slaves!"

"Work slaves," said the leader.

Tela stiffened in her bonds. To be sure, she had been brought to the camp of the black chain as a work slave. So had we all, for that matter.

"She was a rich woman from Lydius!" said the small fellow.

"She now wears a brand," pointed out the leader.

"And this one," said the small fellow, returning his attention to me, "is a dancer!"

"Dancers are nothing," he said. "They go ten for a tarsk."

I tightened, angrily. Men in Brundisium had been willing to pay much for me. I had been supposedly, one of the finest dancers in that city.

"And these two," said the small fellow, indicating Mina and Cara, "are obviously beauties."

"Work slaves," grinned the leader.