Dancer of Gor

20 The Key in the Belt

"Please, Master," I said, swiftly kneeling near the entrance to the alleyway, "my master is much occupied with his business, and neglects me."

The tall, strong fellow stopped to regard me. I was the sort of woman apparently not without interest to Gorean males.

"Kind Master," I begged, "have pity on a female slave, desperate in her need." "You are naked," he observed.

"My master punishes me," I said, "for he grew weary of my bellyings and my importunings for love."

"I do not think I would send a slave like you into the streets naked," he said. "Master?" I asked.

"She might be molested," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

He laughed.

I looked down, as though confused, and embarrassed.

"How long has it been since you have been touched?" he asked.

"Two weeks," I said.

"Incredible," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I whispered.

"Doubtless he has many women," the fellow speculated.

"No," I said, "only me."

"Then," said he, "it is indeed incredible."

"Thank you, Master," I said, shyly.

"To afford a slave such as you," he said, "he must be well off." "He is rich," I said.

"So why would he not have many women?" asked the fellow.

"He cares more for his business than for women," I said.

"You are quite beautiful," he said, admiring me with the openness and candor of a Gorean master.

"Thank you, Master," I said, even as a slave reddening under that gaze.

"Are you truly in desperate need?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said. That was true. My master kept me starved for sex. It seemed to be his belief that my needs, if painful, would improve me in this sort of performance. Perhaps he was right. Surely if a Gorean master were skillful in reading a woman" s body, as many are, there would be little there, now, at least in this one respect, to suggest deception. I squirmed naked before him, on my knees.

"I am sorry," he said.

I put down my head. I wished he was not truly concerned with me. Gorean masters, incidentally, almost never deprive a girl of sex, though it can, of course, be done with an end in view, for such purposes as punishment, increasing her need for a later time, or bringing her to a good, hot ready point for, say, her sale from a slave block. The deliberate starving of a woman of sex is almost unheard of on Gor. that sort of thing is, I think, more likely to be done on Earth, than Gor, and, on Earth, it seems to be practiced more frequently, interestingly enough, not on slaves, but free women. Indeed, one of the major differences between the slave and her free sister. This is not to say that a slave may not occasionally be made to beg for sex, or that she may not, upon occasion, have to beg for it. These things help her to understand that she has sexual needs, and that whether or not these needs are to be satisfied, is at the option of the master. A formula sometimes used is: "I acknowledge unequivocally and without reservation that I have sexual needs. Similarly I inform you that I want them satisfied. I beg you, Master, to satisfy them." It might be noted in this, of course, that a slave may beg for sexual satisfaction. She is free to do so, and it is quite acceptable for her to do so. Such a liberty, of course, would be unthinkable in the case of a free woman. Needless to say, the master commonly accedes to the pleas of the slave. When he himself desires sex, of course, he simply takes it, or imposes it on the slave. Her will is nothing. And she must strive to be fully pleasing. He is master; she is slave.

"I am lonely, I am neglected, I am in need," I said. "My master cares more for his business than for his slave."

"I am sorry," he said.

"You are strong, and a male," I said, looking up, "and I am small, and weak, and a female, and am in need."

He said nothing.

"I would tie the bondage knot in my hair for you," I said. "Are you soliciting the touch of a man who is not your master?" he asked. "Oh, no Master!" I said, quickly.

He smiled.

"Do you scorn me for my helplessness?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"You are kind to a slave," I whispered.

"In any event," he said, "you wear the iron belt."

"Master," I said, quickly, quietly. "It is for such a reason that I have knelt before you. My master, in his anger, and in his preoccupation with his business, when he put the belt on me, neglected to remove the key for the lock. It is still there. I have felt it from behind my back."

"Oh?" he said, interested.

"Yes!" I whispered.

"He must, indeed, have been preoccupied," he said.

"He was angry, too," I said. "He stripped me, put the belt on me and sent me on an errand, from the house. I do not think he was much paying attention to what he was doing." This seemed to me the weakest part of the story, that a Gorean master might neglect to remove a key from a lock. Such things are commonly done by habit, if nothing else. I did have an errand capsule, a capped, narrow leather cylinder, such as may be used for carrying notes, messages, and such, on a string about my neck, the string over my collar.

"The belt then could be easily removed from you," said the fellow, "and later replaced."

"Yes," I said.

I could see that he was interested in me. I had been found desirable, apparently extremely so. To be sure, a key could be left in a lock. Such things could happen. Should a fellow question such luck?

" I do not own you," he said.

"Do so," I said, "for an Ahn."

"There is no place," he said.

"Take me into the alleyway," I said. "Spill garbage, or refuse, upon the stones, for I am a slave and am worth less than even it, and have no value lest it be to serve a master, and put me upon it. Make that my bed."

"My cloak, doubled, will do," he smiled.

"Enfold me then within it," I said, "as though within your arms, that I may then within its enclosing warmth, as though within the confines of a cell, tender my woman" s submission to your maleness."

I then, slowly, gracefully, kneeling before him, looking up at him, tied the bondage know in my hair, it then hanging beside my right cheek.

"Precede me into the alley," he said, kindly.

I rose, gracefully, and did so. I would rather he had not been so concerned for me. I remembered he knife of my master" s man, the point entered ever so slightly into my belly, the edge of the knife turned in such a way that I knew it could open me like a larma.

He spread the cloak, doubled, on the stones of the alleyway. I knelt upon it, and put my hands, clasped, behind the back of my head. I hoped that my master" s men had gone elsewhere. He reached about me, as I pressed myself against him, troubled, and I felt him turn the key in the lock. In a moment, the belt was laid aside.

"You are open," he announced."Yes, Master," I said.

"You are very beautiful," he said.

Thank you, Master," I said.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said.

"Do we have much time?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"How long is your errand?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"What is its nature?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"It is doubtless written on a paper, inside the errand capsule," he said. "Yes, Master," I said.

"To whom were you to report, for the conduct of the errand?" he asked. "Who was to read the message?"

"He who was designated by my master" s men," I said.

"Do you know his name?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"But you do know to whom you were supposed to deliver it?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said.

"When do you expect to deliver it?" he asked.

"I have already done so," I said.

"You are returning from your errand?" he said.

"I am in the midst of it, Maser," I said.

"I do not understand," he said.

"The message is for you," I said.

He looked at me, puzzled. He then uncapped the errand capsule, and took out the bit of rolled paper. He unrolled it, and read it. He leaped to his feet, turning, but already they were upon him. They pummeled him savagely. Then he lay crumpled at their feet.

"Forgive me, Master," I said.

"Get the belt back on," said one of my master" s men.

"Yes, Master," I said. The key was again left in the lock. The paper which had been extracted from the errand capsule was then rerolled, and thrust in the capsule, and the capsule again capped. The message read, I have been told, "You have been captured."

"Another for the black chain of Ionicus," said one of my master" s men, Ionicus was a master of work chains. He ahd several, the "red chain," the "green china," "the yellow chain," and so on, each of which boasted several hundred men. Supposedly these were free work chains, «free» in the sense of not utilizing slaves. Goreans generally do not employ slaves for such labors as road construction, siege works, raising walls, and so on. Similarly they generally would not use them for the construction of temples and public buildings. Most such work is generally done by the free labor of a given community, though this "free labor" may, upon occasion, particularly in emergencies, be "levied," the laborers then contributing their labor as a form of special tax, or, if you like, «conscripted» or "drafted," rather as if for military service. Usually, of course, the free labor is paid, and with more than provisions and shelter, either from public or private funds. Any city in which free laborers tended to be systematically robbed of their employments in virtue of imbonded competition would doubtless be inviting discontent, and perhaps, eventually, revolution. Besides, the free laborers share a Home Stone with the aristocracies of these cities, the upper castes, the higher families, the richer families, and so on. Accordingly, because of this commonality of the Home Stone, love of their city, the sharing of citizenship, and such, there is generally a harmonious set of economic compromises obtaining the labor force, in general. Happily, most of these compromises are unquestioned matters of cultural tradition. They are taken for granted, usually, by all the citizens, and their remote origins, sometimes doubtless the outcome of internecine strife, of class war, of street fighting and riots, of bloody, house-to-house determinations in the past, and such, are seldom investigated, save perhaps by historians, scribes of the past, some seeking, it seems, to know the truth, for its own sake, others seemingly seeking lessons in the rich labyrinths of history, in previous human experience, what is to be emulated, and what is to be avoided. Some think that out of such crises came the invention of the Home Stone. There are, of course, several mythical accounts of the origin of the Home Stone. One popular account has it that an ancient hero, Hesius, once performed great labors for Priest-Kings, and was promised a reward greater than gold and silver. He was given, however, only a flat piece of rock with a single character inscribed on it, the first letter in the name of his native village. He reproached the Priest-Kings with their niggardliness, and what he regarded as their breach of faith. He was told, however, that what they gave him was indeed worth far more than gold and silver, that it was a "Home Stone." He returned to his native village, which was torn with war and strife. He told the story there, and put the stone in the market place. "Of the Priest-Kings say this is worth more than gold and silver," said a wise man, "it must be true." "Yes," said the people. "Ours," responded Hesius. Weapons were then laid aside, and peace pledged. The name of the village was "Ar." It is generally accepted in Gorean tradition that the Home Stone of Ar is the oldest Home Stone on Gor.

"Yes," said the other of my master" s men. My master was Tyrrhenius of Argentum, who owned the tavern. To be sure, I had not been allowed to dance there. He did not want me to be well known as one of his girls. He had surreptitious dealings with various masters of work chains, among them he called Ionicus. My master had once, while I was licking his feet, congratulated me on being an excellent Lure Girl. "Thank you, Master," I had said. I was a slave girl. We must obey our masters.

"Get the cart," said the first of my master" s men.

"Yes, Master," I said, and hurried out to the street, where we had left the hand-drawn cart.

Whereas in the cities, where the rights of citizenship are clearest, where the sways of custom and tradition tend to be jealously guarded, where the influence of Home Stones is likely to be most keenly felt, free labor was generally held its own, the same cannot be said for all rural areas of Gor, particularly areas which fall outside the obvious jurisdiction or sphere of influence of nearby cities. Too, it is difficult to be a citizen of a city if one cannot reach it within a day" s march. Citizenship, or its retention, on other than a nominal basis, in some cities, is contingent on such things as attending public ceremonies, such as an official semi-annual taking of auspices, and participating in numerous public assemblies, some of which are called on short notice. Accordingly, for various reasons, such as lack of citizenship, an inability to properly exercise it, resulting in effective disenfranchisement, or, most often, a fierce independence, repudiating allegiance to anything save one" s own village, the farmers, or peasantry, are more likely to suffer from the results of cheap competition than their own urban brethren. In the last several years, the institution of the "great farm," with its projected contracts, its organization and planning, its agricultural expertise, and its imbonded labor force has become more common on Gor. Some Gorean farmers own their own land, and some share in land owned by a village. It is not unknown for both sorts to receive offers from agents of the "great Farms," sometimes owned by individuals, and sometimes by companies, whose capital has been generated by the investments of individuals who are, in effect, stockholders. Many times these offers, which are usually generous, are accepted, with the result that the amount of area under cultivation by the great farms tends to increase. Sometimes, it is said, that cruel and unfair pressure is applied to farmers, or villages, such as threats, or the burning of crops, and such, but I would think that this would surely be the exception rather than the rule. When the great farms can usually achieve their aims, statistically, by legitimate business measures there would be little point in having recourse to irregular inducements. Too, the Gorean peasant tends to be a master of the "peasant bow," a weapon of unusual accuracy, rapidity of fire, and striking force. Usually, as it is their caste policy, the farmers or villagers seek new land, usually farther away, to start again. They seldom attempt to enter the cities, where they might eventually contribute to the formation of a discontented urban proletariat. Their caste codes discourage it. Also, of course, they would generally not be citizens of the city and in the city there would be little opportunity for them to practice their caste crafts. Also, may cities, save those interested, for one reason or another, in increasing their population, for better or for worse, tend not be enthusiastic about accepting influxes of the indigent. Such have contributed, through economic hardship, or treachery, to the diminishment, and even fall, of more than one city. I think that the cities, on the whole, have mixed feelings about the great farms. Whereas they welcome currently lower prices on produce and greater assurances of its variety and quantities, they also tend (304) to regret the withdrawal or loss of the local peasantry, which provided them not only with a plethora of individual suppliers, tending to generate a free market, complex and competitive, but also with a sphere of intelligence and even defense about the city. An organization of great farms, acting in concert, of course, could reduce competition, and eventually regulate prices rather as they pleased, particularly with regard to staples such as Sa-Tarna and Suls. Accordingly some cities have been willing to offer inducements to farmers to remain in their vicinity, such as a liberalization of the requirements of citizenship, the performance of rural sacrifices, the holding of games in rural areas, subsidizing the touring of theatricaland musical troupes in the countryside, special holidays honoring the agricultural caste, which may be celebrated in the city, and so on. In many cases these inducements appear to have been effective. The farmer likes to be appreciated, and to have the importance and value of his work recognized. He thinks of his caste as "the ox on which the Home Stone rests." Too, of course, he generally prefers to stay where he is. He is fond of the land he knows.

I put myself between the handles of the cart and, drawing it, returned into the alleyway. The fellow was now bound and gagged. He was tied as helplessly as though he might have been a woman, and a woman who was only a slave. He was still unconscious.

"Go, watch," said one of my master" s men.

I quickly turned about and ran to the end of the alleyway, where I could see the street, both ways.

Two forms of work groups not localized to individual cites are the "free gang" and the «free» chain. These differ both from the free laborers indigenous to a given city and from work groups of slaves, such as those which are commonly used on the great farms. The "free gang" consists of free men who are in the hire of a contractor who rents their services, and his own, say, to various cities, organizations, and groups. They are, in effect, something like traveling construction crews. Many of them are skilled, or semiskilled, workers, and they can come and go as they please. They travel about in wagons. Many of them are rough, but good-hearted men. They enjoy drinking, brawling and mastering slaves. I had been in the arms of some such men in Brundisium. They made me serve well. The «free» chain, on the other hand, consists usually, I had been told, of condemned criminals. Rather than bother with housing these fellows, many of whom are supposedly dangerous, putting them up at public expense, and so on, many cities, for a nominal fee, turn them over to a work master who accepts charge of them, theoretically for the duration of time remaining in their sentences. For example, if a fellow has been sentenced, say, to two years of hard labor by a praetor, he might be turned over, for a small fee, to the master of a work gang who will see to it, theatrically, that he performs these two years of hard labor. The work master of course, profits from the services of his gang, which he rents out to various individuals, or groups, and so on, rather as the managers or captains, of the «free» gangs can rent out their own crews. The «free» chain, of course, can be hired more cheaply. On the other hand, it usually tends to have a far more limited pool of skills than that of the "free gangs" and, accordingly, it is usually employed in ruder, less demanding labors, or even in labors which, because of their arduousness, or their onerous nature, would be distasteful to free gangs. Supposedly when the criminal" s sentence has been served, he is to be released by the work master, usually then far from the city where he committed his crime or was apprehended. On the other hand, it is suspected that work masters tend to be somewhat reluctant to free the fellows on their chains. They would then, it seems, have to pay a new fee to replace him. It seems certain that more than one fellow has been kept on the chain far longer than his sentence would seem to require. For example, it seems certain that small infractions, invented or discovered, of regulations, or discipline, are utilized by work masters, at least from time to time, to «extend» the sentence, or de-facto servitude, of the worker in question. The hope of being freed, of course, generally keeps the chain "tame." Occasionally perhaps, a fellow is released. This is supposed to encourage docility in the others. These fellows, incidentally, are in effect under "slave discipline" which means, on Gor, that they are as much at the mercy of the work master as if they were his slaves. He may kill them, for example, if he wishes. My master, Tyrrhenius of Argentum, at whose mercy I was, and similarly at the mercy of those whom he had appointed to supervise my work, had dealings with various work masters, prominent among them Ionicus, Ionicus of Cos. The fellow behind me, whom my master" s men had bound, and whom they were doubtless placing on the cart, was destined, I head heard, for the "black chain" of Ionicus. That particular chain, I had heard, was employed in the north, currently digging siege trenches for the Cosians who had invested Torcadino. The fellow whom they had bound, of course, and the others in whose capture I had been implicated, were not, as far as I knew, criminals. My master, Tyrrhenius, spoke of his work as "recruitment." He was «recruiting» for the chains of work masters. To be sure, he must do this work surreptitiously. It would be quite unfortunate for him, I gathered, if he were to be discovered to have been involved in such work. Judges, magistrates, andsuch, would not be likely to look indulgently on these activities. To be sure, he was not taking risks as great as it might seem. For example, he was not directly, personally involved in these things. The fellows captured would not know where they were being held, nor, hooded and chained, from what place they were taken forth later. Also, I supposed, later on, after he had some more use out of me, he would sell me off in some market or another. He could find himself a new lure girl. Indeed, for all I knew, he might be using others of his girls in these same cruel and delusory labors. I did not much fear another sale. I had already been sold a number of times. A girl" s first sale, at least her first public one, as mine was at Market of Semris, when she is exposed on a block naked to buyers, and such, is probably the hardest for her. After that she has some sense of what it is to be vended merchandise. Indeed, I was excited at the thought of being sold again. I wanted to be beautiful, to please men, and to bring the highest price in the market. The chances of my encountering any of the fellows in whose captures I had been implicated, incidentally, were not high. They had, it seemed, all been shipped north of Torcadino. I thought of Tyrrhenius. He was not, truly, as I again thought of it, taking such great risks. Who could prove that he had been involved in these things? My own testimony, even if it were dragged out of me on the rack, would be only that of a slave; his men would presumably not betray him; and he could always claim that his tavern, the basement, and such, had been used without his knowledge. He could feign dismay. He was respected in Argentum. He did not even reside on the premises.

"Someone is coming!" I called back, softly, to my master" s men. They were placing the bound, gagged fellow in the cart. They would tie him there. Then they would cover him with a tarpaulin.

"Close?" asked the first of my master" s men.

I nodded.

"Delay him," called the fellow, a fierce, projected whisper.

The approaching fellow was some ten to fifteen yards away, to my left. He wore a short cloak, fastened by a large bronze pin at the right shoulder, high, bootlike sandals, and a broad-rimmed hat. A sack was slung on a stick, the stick resting over his shoulder. He carried, on a strap over his left shoulder, the strap under his cloak, a sword. I supposed that he might be able to use it. The hat, with its broad brim pulled down against the sun, with its attendant shadow, muchly concealed his features. I took him for a traveler. It is a not unusual traveling costume for males on Gor. such a costume, too, it might be mentioned, is often worn for hunting. Head down, I hurried forth, and knelt before him, blocking his way. I put my had down to his feet. This is a suitable deference in a female slave before a free male. I tensed, for I expected, having so blocked his path, to be kicked, or struck. I must then try to seize an ankle, or knee, pleading desperate need. I knew I might risk a thrashing with his stick. But I had been ordered to delay him, and delay him I would, if I could. "A needful slave begs master to take pity upon her," I said. I trembled. But I did not feel the scorn of his foot, thrusting me to the side, toward the central gutter in the street, nor did I feel his hand in my hair, yanking my head up, to lash my face back and forth with what would undoubtedly have been a well-deserved cuffing. He did not even spit upon me, or cry out in anger, or deride me, or even order me from his path. Swiftly I began kissing, and licking, at his feet, performing appropriate obesiances before him, a male. I was puzzled. Then I was afraid. Gorean masters are often kind to needful slaves, acceding to their pleas for sex. Though I was eager to be touched, and Tyrrhenius of Argentum, my master, had, as a matter of policy, kept me in a torment of sexual deprivation. I did not want this fellow, a stranger accosted on the street, to use me. My master" s men were nearby.

"You kiss and lick as well as ever, perhaps even better, Doreen," he said. "Or is it still «Doreen»? he asked.

I looked up, startled.

"I am now Tuka, Master," I said.

"An excellent name for a slave slut such as you," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"You know me, do you not?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, Master," I whispered, frightened.

"It was because of you," he laughed, "curvy little she-urt, that I lost my post in Brundisium."

"Forgive me, Master," I said. I feared that he might whip me.

"I do not blame Hendow for being jealous," he said. "A man might be driven to distraction by a face and curves like yours."

"Thank you, Master," I whispered.

"But I taught you something of what it is to be a slave, did I not?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said. It was very true.

"You were stolen, weren" t you?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"That is what I heard in Brundisium," he said. "I did not think Hendow would have let you go."

"Perhaps not, Master," I said. I did not really know. It seemed to me implausible that Hendow could have cared for me. He had used me only once, and then ruthlessly. On Earth weaklings who wish to rid themselves of women sometimes take refuge in the comforting rationalization that they "love them enough to let them go." That position, whatever may be its moral or psychological merits, does not represent a typical Gorean response, at least where slaves are concerned. Most Gorean would regard it as absurd to let a woman go for whom one truly cared. One shows caring by keeping. And, if necessary, by fighting. What woman, I wondered, could not see through such cant? Most women, it seemed to me, would prefer a man who cared enough for her to keep her, one who was willing, even, to fight for her, rather than one who was willing to "let her go."

"Apparently Tupita was stolen at the same time," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said. It did not seem to me important to tell him that Tupita had been attempting to escape, using my sales price to purchase passage from Brundisium. "You did not come to Argentum searching for me, did you?" I asked. "Hardly," he laughed.

"Oh," I said. I had thought he might have done so. I was a bit miffed by this. He laughed.

"Master is far from Brundisium," I observed.

"I have come to Argentum seeking my fortune," he said. "I will seek service with some mercenary captain."

It seemed to me certainly that one might find such service closer to Brundisium. "What happened to Tupita?" he asked. "Do you know what became of her?" "We were both sold in Samnium," I said. "I do not know who purchased her. I do not know where she went."

"She was pretty," he said.

"Yes, Master," I agreed.

"The recovery period is passed, long ago," he said. "You are both the full legal properties of your new masters."

"Yes, Master," I said. I heard the wheels of the cart trundling from the alleyway now. The fellow who had been bound and gagged was doubtless now tied down in the cart, hand and foot, belly and neck, and covered by the tarpaulin.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, Master," I said.

"Are you hips still loose?" he asked. "Do you still sway well?" I cast a frightened glance back toward the opening of the alleyway. "My current master does not use me as a dancer," I said.

My master" s men, with the cart, one of them drawing the car, the other thrusting it from behind, emerged from the alleyway. "Greetings, Citizen," said the first of my master" s men, he between the handles of the cart.

"Greetings," said the fellow before whom I knelt. He was not, of course, a citizen of Argentum.

"Watch out for her," grinned the first of my master" s men. "She hangs out around here from time to time, begging to be touched."

"Thank you for the warning," laughed the fellow before whom I knelt. I put my head down, so spoken of. Yet truly I was needful. It seemed my sexual needs had increased a thousand times on Gor. I could not help myself.

"Have you contented her?" asked he before whom I knelt.

"Not I," laughed the fellow. "She is in a collar. She is nothing. Let her grovel, and scream with need. It amuses us."

"I see," said the fellow before whom I knelt. He did not seem too pleased with what he had heard.

"Besides," said the first of master" s men, "as you can see, her pretty, little body is snugly enclosed in the iron belt."

"So it might seem," said the fellow before whom I knelt.

They then, to my relief, seemingly continued on their way, albeit slowly, one drawing the cart, the other pushing it. Perhaps the cart was heavy.

"I must go now, Master," I said. I wished to leap up, and be on my way. "Have I given you permission to rise?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master."

I could see, behind him, that the two men of my master had stopped, apparently adjusting the tarpaulin in the cart.

"The key has been left in the belt," he said. "Did you know that?" he had had no difficulty in making this determination, as I had knelt before him, earlier, my head down to his feet.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"That would seem very careless of your master," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Perhaps he does not pay as close attention to you as he might," speculated the fellow.

"Perhaps, Master," I whispered.

I looked beyond the man, to my master" s men. The cart was now a few yards down the street. The first of my master" s men was looking at me. The second was pretending to be inspecting the wheel of the cart.

"Doubtless Master has pressing concerns," I said. "He must doubtless soon be on his way."

"No," said the fellow. "What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing, Master," I said.

"I think you are needful," he said.

I looked beyond the fellow. I saw the first of my master" s men make the sign, the signal of designation.

"Something is wrong," said the fellow before whom I knelt, "I can tell." "No, Master," I whispered.

The first of my master" s men then, unpleasantly, severely, impatiently. Abruptly, as though he could not understand my dalliance, made an angry gesture across his lower belly. I put my head down, in my hands. I sobbed.

"You are in need," said the fellow before whom I knelt.

I lifted my head. I lowered my hands from before my face. "My master," I said, "is much preoccupied with his business, and neglects me."