Dancer of Gor

"We will soon be clear the harbor," he said. "Are you pretty?"

I did not respond, immediately. I did not wish to sound vain, nor was I sure, really, that I was pretty enough to count as being "pretty," so to speak. Much surely depended, too, on the opinions of men. Was it not really up to them, to decide whether I was pretty or not? A girl who might be attractive to one man might not be so to another, I knew. I supposed I should whimper twice, for a negative response, but then I feared, what if he, or someone, should unhood me, as doubtless someone would, sooner or later, if only to feed and water me. I might then, if I had responded in the negative, be punished for lying. I recalled Ulrick had thought me pretty, and others had, too. Also, only a few minutes ago, the guard had said to someone that I was "marvelously beautiful." Whereas that might have been an exaggeration, even an absurd one, it seemed that on the basis of it, I might be legitimately entitled to view myself as at least "pretty." Too, I recalled that Teibar, apparently unwillingly, apparently in spite of himself, apparently to his fury and disgust, considering what he took to be my nature, had seemed to find me attractive, even extremely so, maddeningly so. To be sure, he had not kept me. Too, I considered the sexual tastes of these men, tastes according to which, this sometimes terrifying me. I apparently counted as being unusually desirable or attractive. Indeed, on this world, rightly or wrongly, I did count, it seemed, even, as the guard had said, "marvelously beautiful." To be sure, I was alarmed to consider what might be the consequences of being beautiful, and a slave, on a world such as this, among men such as these.

I whimpered once. I tensed, fearing I might be struck for vanity. But I was not struck.

"Later, in an Ahn, or so," he said, "we will remove your gags and hoods. Things will then be more pleasant for you."

I whimpered once, signifying my pleasure, my gratitude, hoping to encourage him.

"Do you know when we will do this?" he asked.

I whimpered twice.

"When we are out of the sight of land," he said, "totally out of the sight of land."

I lifted my head in the hood, to the sound of his voice.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

I whimpered once.

7 Brundisium

"This is Brundisium!" said one of the girls, peeping out of the wagon. "I am sure of it!"

"I want to be sold here," said another.

"It will depend on the conditions of the market," said another.

"I think we are already past its street of brands," said another.

"We are still within its walls," said another.

"It is one of the greatest ports," said another.

"It is here that the Cosian fleet landed," said another.

We were naked in a slave wagon, our ankles chained to a central bar. The high, squarish framework of the wagon was covered with blue and yellow silk, under which was common canvas. The silk is often removed during bad weather. We had thrust up the canvas and silk, an inch or two, at the top edge of the wagon bed, and, turned and kneeling, some half sitting, half lying, eager, curious, our ankle chains twisted, were peeping out.

"There are still soldiers and sailors of Cos about," said one of the girls. "There is one," said another girl.

"He is handsome," said another. "I would not mind being owned by him." That remark, I suddenly found disturbing, and frightening. I had accepted that we could be owned, and, indeed, were, but it still frightened me, to hear it spoken of so openly, owned, and by a private master!

"There are banners of Cos, too, as well as those of Brundisium," said another.

"Yes," said another.

"We must have come from Cos," said one of the girls.

"Perhaps Telnus," said another.

"Yes," agreed the first.