Dancer of Gor

"Oh, Master," moaned Tupita, almost silently, "do not awaken now. Do not make noise!"

"He has blood on him," said Cara. "It will come this way!"

"It must not come this way," said Tupita. "It might hurt the master." "What of us!" said Cara. There was a small sound from her wrist chains, where the links near the manacles had been bound together by the binding fiber. Surely the animal could hear that!

"We do not matter," said Tupita. "We are only slaves."

Cara moaned.

"Do not awaken, Master," whispered Tupita to Mirus. "Lie still." He, I think, though, could not hear her, or could not understand her.

Interestingly, though I think such a beast might easily detect the small sounds, even the whispers, we made, it did not seem to notice them. It seemed, rather, intent upon some other business.Mirus groaned, and lifted his head. He lifted his body, too, a little. He was a very strong man.

"Lie still, Master," whispered Tupita. "There is a sleen about." "It is on a scent," whispered Tela. "Look at it!"

the animal now seemed to be very excited. It was near the well, its snout to the ground. It circled the well twice, and then circled it again, increasing the size of the circle. I heard it making small, eager noises. Then it hurried in our direction for a moment, and then stopped, and then, again, began to move toward us.

Groggily Mirus, blood running down the side of his head, crawled toward the scabbard and blade, taken from him by one of the beasts, which lay near him. The blades, too, for that matter, of the two slain fellows were also in the vicinity, one still in its sheath, the other half drawn.

"Go away! Go away!" cried Tela to the sleen.

Its eyes were now very bright. It was a gray hunting sleen.

Mirus staggered unsteadily to his feet, discarding the scabbard. He nearly fell, but regained his feet. He held the hilt with two hands.

He came toward me, reeling, bleeding. I then realized it was his intention to strike me.

"There is a sleen behind you!" cried Tupita. "Turn around! Turn around!" "That is not a wild sleen!" cried Mina.

It wore a collar, a large, heavy, spiked collar.

Mirus reeled about. He stood then, sword drawn, between the beast and us. Tela put her head back and screamed, wildly, shrilly, helplessly/ The beast regarded us.

"I is Borko, the sleen of Hendow!" cried Tupita. "It has come to kill us!" it had come after us, pursuing us, doubtless, as runaway slaves!

I suddenly recalled the reference to an inquiry, or inquiries in Argentum, that on the part of my former master, Tyrrhenius. I had been sold shortly thereafter. I also remembered that I had walked barefoot on the Viktel Aria, at the stirrup of Aulus, and, too, had so trod the camp of Pietro Vacchi.

"No," said Mirus. "It is on one scent. It is after only one quarry." I saw the sleen view me.

"Master," I called out to Mirus. "Defend me!"

But he, both hands on the hilt of his sword, holding it at rest now, pointed downward, backed away. He stood between the beast and Tupita.

Borko looked at him. he remembered him, doubtless, from Brundisium.

Without taking his eyes off the sleen, by feel, Mirus cut the ropes that tied Tupita to the railing, and then cut free the binding fiber on her ankles, and wrists."

"Do not mind me," wept Tupita. "Do not let him kill Tuka!"

But Mirus held her by one arm, and backed away.

"I find this," he said to me, "an acceptable and suitable vengeance, superior even to the sword, or to the thousand cuts, that you, my dear Doreen or Tuka, or whatever masters now choose to call you, you stinking, worthless, curvaceous, treacherous slave slut, should be torn to pieces by a sleen!"

"No!" screamed Tupita.

"Kill, Borko, kill!" he cried, indicating me with the point of his sword.

I closed my eyes, sobbing.

I felt then, however, the huge, cold snout of the beast thrusting itself under my left arm. I gasped, and cried out, softly. But there had been little, if anything, of menace in the gesture. Perhaps it was confirming my scent, prior to its attack. Then, again it rubbed its snout on my body. This seemed clearly an act of affection. I had seen it act so with Hendow himself. It was nuzzling me. Then I felt its large tongue lick across my body.

"Good Borko! Good Borko!" cried Tupita.

"Kill!" cried Mirus. "Kill her!"

Borko looked at him, quizzically.

"Very well, then, stupid beast," he said. "I shall do so myself!" he then raised his blade. Immediately the entire attitude of the sleen altered. It suddenly became alive with menace and hate. Its fur erected, its eyes blazed, it snarled viciously.

Mirus, startled, stepped back.

I think perhaps if the sleen had not known him from Brundisium, and as the friend of his master, he might have attacked him. Certainly, it seemed, as it was, he had no intention of letting him approach me.

"It is protecting her!" cried Tupita, delightedly. "See! It will kill you if you try to hurt her! Come away! Let her go! Why fuss with a slave?"