Dancer of Gor

In a moment then there was a cry to some animal and the shaking of a harness. There was also the snapping of a whip. That sound frightened me. I had learned to know it better than I cared to I was thrown off balance a little to my left as the vehicle began to move. It seemed to me we were being held in a great deal of security. We were gagged and hooded; we were stripped, our brands thusly bared; our wrists were manacled behind our backs; and we were attached to one another, in coffle, by neck chains. Beyond this we were caged, and the cage, too, was covered. That may have been, of course, that we not attract too much attention, naked slaves being transported through streets. I wondered if there were any free women on this world. I had never seen one. To be sure, slave girls on this world were often held in great security. One of the most significant securities, of course, was their collars, marking them unmistakably as slaves, and, usually, identifying their masters. It seemed to please these men, so proud, so strong, so uncompromising, so imperious, to keep us in bonds, chains and such. Our strongest bond, of course, that which would hold us if none other, that which we could never hope to break, was our condition itself, that we were slaves. Still, beyond these things it seemed to me that there might be something a little mysterious, if not excessive, in the careful way we were bring treated, handled and moved. I had gathered that it was not really unusual, particularly in certain places, though in others it was apparently regarded as being tactless or vulgar, for slaves to be marched naked, in coffle, through the streets, for example, for their own edification or instruction, that they be helped to understand that they are truly slaves, as the case might be, as a matter of simple convenience. Certainly they were often kept this way, I had been given to understand, on highway and road treks, if only to protect their tunics from sweat and dust. And there seemed little objection anywhere to marching them through the streets in tunics or camisks, a narrow, poncholike garment. To be sure, they were generally transported naked, in closed wagons, their ankles chained to a central bar. But they were presumably not then gagged and hooded, or confined as closely as we. I did not understand these things. I did not question the will of masters, of course, for the will of masters, quite simply, is not to be questioned, but I was curious, or puzzled, to know why it was being done this way. Too, more interestingly, I did not even know where I was. I did not know were the house in which I had been trained was located. I did not even know the name of that house. I did not even know the name of its master. Now I was being taken from it, towards some equally unknown destination. None of the girls, too, as far as I could tell, were any the better informed then I. But whatever the explanation might be for these anomalies, if, anomalies there were, there was no doubt that I was now a slave. Teibar, who had been my captor, had seen to that.