17 The Slave

"You! ' she cried, struggling to her feet.

I dismounted swiftly and easily, approaching her, from the kaiila.

"Why is your kaiila quirt drawn?" she asked.

I lashed her once, savagely, with the quirt, between the neck and shoulder, onthe left side. I did not see any point in wasting time with her. "Kneel," Isaid.

Swiftly she knelt, clumsily in the apparatus in which she had been confined. Shelooked up at me. There were tears, and wonder, in her eyes. It was the firsttime, perhaps, she had been thusly struck.

"You do not avert your eyes from me," she said.

"It would be difficult to do so," I admitted. I could no longer, then, pursue mybusiness in haste, as I had intended. Her loveliness, simply, did not permit it.

She was stunning. I stood before her, savoring her beauty.

"Please," she protested, tears in her eyes.

I walked slowly about her.

She tossed, her head, to throw her hair forward, over her breasts.

I took her hair on, and lifted it, with the quirt, and threw it again behind hershoulders. She shuddered as the leather touched her body.

Again I regarded her.

"How dare you look at me in that fashion?" she asked.

"You are beautiful," I explained.

"You struck me," she chided.

"Indeed," I said, "your beauty might be adequate even for that of a slave."

"Oh?" she said.

"Yes," I said. This was a high compliment, which I had paid to her.

"You struck me," she said.

I slapped the kaiila quirt in my palm. "Yes," I said.

"You struck me as though I might have been a kaiila, or an animal," she said.

"Yes," I sad…

"I am free!" she said.

"You do not appear to be free," I said. She knelt before me, stark, naked. Shewore an improvised girl-yoke. This consisted of a stout branch, about two inchesthick, and some five feet in length, drilled at the center and near theextremities. It fits behind the back of the girl's neck. A long, single thong ofrawhide fastens the girl in place. Her left wrist is thonged and then the thongis passed through the drilled aperture in the left end of the yoke. Her wrist ispulled tight to the yoke. The same thong is then taken behind the yoke andpassed through the center hole, whence, after having been knotted, to preventslippage to the left, and having been looped about the girl's neck, usually somefive times, and having been knotted again, to prevent slippage to the right, itis returned through the same hole, whence it is taken behind the yoke to thehole drilled at the right-hand extremity of the apparatus. It is passed throughthat hole and then, of course, is used to fasten the girl's right wrist inplace, tightly against the yoke. When this action is completed then, as you cansee, whole package is neatly tied. The knots near the throat in preventingslippage, serve two functions; they hold the girl's wrists against the yoke and,at the same time, prevent vent any undue stress from being placed on the throatbands. The function of the throat bands is to hold the girl's throat in theyoke, securely and perfectly, not to cause her discomfort, nor to strangle her.

Gorean men are not fools in tying women. Longer yokes, such as this,incidentally, are commonly used for marches.

Confined as she is, with her arms extended, a girl can exert almost no leverageto free herself. Smaller yokes, some two to two and a half feet in length,similarly constructed, can be used for other purposes, such as enjoying a girlin the furs. Afterwards she can always be kenneled or chained. A soft, braidedleather rope, a trade rope, cored with wire, some fifteen or twenty feet inlength, was looped some five times about the girl's left ankle, and tied, thencebeing run to the axle of the nearby wagon to which she was tethered. This is auseful sanitary provision as the girl, then, need not sit or lie too near to herown wastes. The wire coring in the rope, of course, tends to discourage theattempt to chew through the bond. Light chains, sheathed in silk, or satin orvelvet, incidentally, have this utility as well, as well as their intrinsicstrength, more than adequate for the securing of a female.

Three separate thongs, incidentally, two short and one long, are sometimes usedfor this type of securing of the female. In this way of doing things each wristis tied in the center of one of the short thongs. The two free ends of the shortthong are then taken back through the hole and, once through the hole, aresimply knotted, heavily. This knot cannot, of course, be drawn back through thesmall-drilled hole by the girl. Her wrists are thus held in place. One end ofthe longer thong is taken through the center aperture and is that thong is thenlooped about the girl's throat, usually, again, some five times, and thenreturned through the center aperture. Once through the aperture it is knottedtogether, heavily, with the other end of the thong. Again, of course, this knot,a heavy one, prevents the thongs from slipping back through the narrow aperture.

The girl's neck is thus held closely to the yoke. This, too, of course, is aneffective way of securing a girl. Indeed, there is, in my opinion, normallylittle to choose from between these two yoke ties. Which is preferred may welldepend on matters so trivial as the nature and lengths of the binding materialavailable, for example, ropes, cordage, binding fiber, twisted silk, thongs or,straps. If there is a preference, perhaps it would be for the single-bond tie.

It is stout, and, in its unity, aesthetically attractive. Second only to theabsolute helplessness of the female in her ties, in the Gorean mind, is theattractiveness of her bonds. They should be used to enhance her beauty as wellas to imprison it with absolute perfection.

These yoke ties, incidentally, are not to be confused with a stock tie, or astock yoke. This is normally a pair of hinged planks, with matched, semicircularopenings in the planks. The girl's wrists and neck are placed appropriatelybetween the planks, aligned with the semicircular openings. The planks are thenclosed and-tied or locked shut. Her neck and wrists, then, of course,helplessly, are fixed in place. They find themselves enclosed in effective andperfect constraints. is yoke is sometimes placed on a girl while she is on herback. If the planks are sufficiently wide the girl cannot see at the man isdoing to her. She can only feel it. Similar sensations may be induced in a womanby putting her in a slave hood. She may then either be bound or not, as themaster pleases.

"Nonetheless," she said, "I am free!"

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I am not branded," she said uncertainly.

"You do not need to be branded to be a slave," I said. "Surely you know that"

"Rescue me," she said. "Free met I will pay you much!"

I smiled. Did this lovely agent of Kurii really think that I might even considerfreeing her?

"Free me!" she said. "I will pay you much!" "Did you enjoy being struck?" Iasked.

"No!" she said.

"You will then answer my questions truthfully, directly and early," I told her.

"What do you wish to know?" she asked. "You are beautiful in the yoke," I said.

"Thank you," she said, uncertainly.

"It becomes you," I said.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You might have been born a slave," I said. She looked at me. "thank you," shesaid…"Describe to me, in brief compass, the course of the battle," I said.

I turned about for I had heard a small noise behind me. Several of the Waniyanpihad now come to the vicinity of the wagon.

"I see you have found her'," said' Pumpkin.

"Yes," 1 said. I noted that neither he, nor the other Waniyanpi, lookedobviously and directly on the woman, though she was beautiful and bound. "Was ityou," I asked, tripped this beauty?"

"No, no," said Pumpkin, hastily. "That was done by the masters."

"It must have been you, then," I said, "who yoked her, and prettily and well."

"No, not" said Pumpkin, hastily. "That, too, was done by the red masters."

"I see," I said. I had surmised, Of course, that it would not have been theWaniyanpi who had removed the woman's clothing, or who had secured her, sosimply, yet so efficiently and brilliantly.

"We did, however," said Pumpkin, "tether her behind the wagon, looking away fromher as much as possible, that we would not have to look at her."

"The red masters permitted this?" I asked.

"Yes," said Pumpkin. "In amusement, they acceded to our pleas."

"That was kind of them," I said.

"Yes," said Pumpkin.

"Describe to me the course of the battle, as you understand it," I said to thestripped, blond captive, giving her once again my attention.

"Please," she said, "who are these people? They do not even look at me. Am I sougly or repulsive?"

"You are neither ugly nor repulsive," I said. "In a common Gorean market youwould bring a good price for a medium grade slave girl. Accordingly, you arequite beautiful."

"Who are they?" she whispered. "Are they men?"

"They are called Waniyanpi," I said, "which in Dust Leg and Kaiila means "tamecattle. "

"Are they men?" she asked.

"That is an interesting question," I said. "I do not know."

The girl shuddered. Of Gorean birth, she was unfamiliar, in numbers, at least,with such organisms. Had she been of Earth origin, of course, she would havebeen far less I startled, for then creatures would have been much more familiarto her. In the polluted meadows of Earth graze numerous Waniyanpi.

"Begin," I told her.

"We feared nothing," she said. "Our forces, we believed, were invincible. We didnot anticipate trouble. Surely it would be insanity to attack us. Insufficientpickets were put out. Watches were not well kept."

"Go on," I said.

"Ten days ago, today, as I have counted this," she said, "the attack took place.

It began near the eighth Ahn. The wagons had been aligned. The tharlarion wereharnessed. A small group of red savages, mounted, was seen to the southeast.

Alfred, captain of Port Olni, commanding two hundred riders, for sport as muchas anything, rode forth to frighten them away. We climbed on the wagons towatch."

Alfred, of course, should not have personally commanded the excursion. Thatexpedition, if it had been mounted at all, should have been led by a juniorofficer.

"In a moment, then, behind us, suddenly, rising from the grass, on foot,screaming, brandishing weapons, there arose, it seemed, hundreds of savages.

They had crawled to these positions through the grass. The grass seemed alivewith them. They swept through the wagons. The most fearful things, I think,happened with the larger wagons, those with the families, to the west. They werealmost defenseless. My own wagon was with the soldiers. In the southeast, then,rising from the gullies and draws, there suddenly seemed hundreds of riders.

Alfred had been lured into a trap. He, suddenly finding himself disastrouslyoutnumbered, wheeled about and, pursued, fled back to the wagons. I think helost many men. When he reached our camp the wagons to the west were alreadyaflame. He would not rush to their relief. He rallied his men and ordered aretreat to the north. It had been from this direction that the savages hadattacked on foot."

"What of the infantry?" I asked.

"It must fend for itself," she said.

I nodded. it was not difficult to follow Alfred's thinking. The savages on footwould not be able to stop the cavalry, and the pursuers from the south orsoutheast might be detained at the wagons. It was there, of course, that theywould encounter the unsupported infantry.

"Drivers leaped from the wagon boxes, fleeing for their lives," she said. "Icried out. My own driver was nowhere to be seen. The tharlarion, frightened inthe turmoil, hitched up, moved this way and that with the wagons, mostly towardthe east, away from the smoke and noise. I lost my footing. I regained it, inthe wagon. I could not stop the tharlarion. The reins were not in my grasp. Iwas dragged a quarter of a pasang before the wagon stopped, through soldiers,through wagons and other men. I saw one of the infantrymen kill a cavalryman,striking him from behind with his pike, and take his kaiila. Alfred turned hismounted forces to the north, but, to his dismay, he saw that his plan had beenanticipated. From the north, now, and the west, came new swarms of mounted redsavages."

I nodded. Certainly the savages would have anticipated an attempted escape inthe sector where they had appeared to position what, in effect, was theirtemporary infantry. The planning that had gone into the attack revealedintelligent and careful thought. In particular the placement and timing theattacks showed a fine sense for what might be the likely directions and phasesof a battle's development. Tactical instructions in a melee, incidentally, arenormally administered to the red savages, in their units, commonly warriorsocieties, or divisions of such societies, by blasts on a whistle, formed fromthe wing bone of the taloned Herlit, or movements of a long, feathered battlestaff.

"Confused men swept about my wagon. I saw Alfred, turning about, wheeling thisway and that, on his kaiila. I put out my hand to him. I cried out to him. Helooked at me, but then paid me no attention. Infantrymen, here and there, werefighting cavalrymen for their mounts. The cavalrymen, cursing, slashed down atthem. The savages from the south and southeast bad struck against the lines ofinfantrymen with their lances. The lines had held."

I nodded, encouraging her to speak. Gorean infantry, with staggered lines andfixed pikes, their butts anchored in the earth, could usually turn an attack oflight cavalry.

"I cried out again to Alfred, but he paid me no attention," she said.

The red savages, I speculated, would have been surprised that they had beenunable to force their way, through the infantry lines. Such lines, of course,can usually be outflanked.

"Men seemed everywhere," she said. "There was the clash of arms, the squealingof kaiila. The savages now from the north and west swept through the wagons.

Some passed within feet of me. Some were naked, none seemed to wear more thanthe breechclout. They screamed hideously. They were covered with paint, andtheir mounts, too. Feathers were in their hair, and tied, too, in the silkenhair of their beasts. I saw a man's brains struck out not more than a few feetfrom me."

"What of the beasts from your own wagons," I asked, those who can bear arms, whocan go on two feet when they chooserShe looked up at me.

"I know of them," I said. "Speak." I slapped the quirt solidly into my palm. Iwould not have had the least compunction in laying it liberally to the beauty ofmy fair interlocutress.

She seemed frighten.

"How many of them were there?" I asked.

"Seventeen," she said.

"What became of them?" I asked.

"When the battle began they emerged from their wagons,* she said. "Some killedsome of the men about, even our own soldiers, who did not know what they were.

Some fought savages. Some were slain by savages. Some, in a small group,together, made their way northward, through the fighting. The savages seemed, onthe whole, reluctant to attack them."

"How many escaped?" I asked.

"I do not know," she said. "Perhaps seven, perhaps eight."

This report seemed congruent with what I had learned from Pumpkin and theWaniyanpi and with my own conjectures.

"Continue," I said to the girl.

"Taking advantage of the confusion, momentary, among the red savages, followingtheir failure to break the line of the infantry, Alfred ordered his men throughhis own infantry lines, and led them again to the southeast. His actiondisrupted the infantry, trampling soldiers, buffeting them aside the red savagesthen poured through the breached line. Some perhaps pursued the escaping columnbut most, I think, remained to finish their battle with the infantry, with whichthey were then, following the escape of Alfred, much embroiled."

"Too," I said, "they would presumably not wish to give the Infantry a chance toreform, to close, its lines again and set up a solid perimeter."

She shrugged. "Perhaps not," she whispered. "Then it seemed, again, that allabout me were hurtling kaiila and screaming savages, and paint and feathers."

"These were doubtless the concerted forces of the red savages," I said, "beingapplied to the destruction of the infantry" I think so," she said.

"Were there any survivors?" I asked.

"I do not think so," she said.

"Alfred made good his escaper' I asked.

"I think so," she said.

"How many men did he have with him?" I asked.

"I do not know," she said. "Perhaps three hundred, perhaps four hundred."

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I lay down in the wagon, and hid," she said. "They found me later, in theafternoon, after the battle. Two men pulled me forth from the wagon bed. Theythrust back my veils and hood. I was thrown to my knees on the grass and one ofthe men held my wrists, crossed, before my body. The other drew back a heavyclub, the termination of which contained a heavy, wooden, ball-like knob. Theywere preparing, apparently, to dash out my brains. A word was spoken. The menstepped back. I looked up to see a tall savage, mounted astride a kaiila. It washe who had spoken. He motioned for me to rise and, unsteadily, terrified, I didso. These men were all hideous, and fearful, in their paint and feathers. Hesaid another word and, in a moment, I had been stripped before him, absolutelynaked. He then leaned down from the back of the beast and pointed to itsforepaws. I shrank back, frightened. He said another word and again, suddenly, Iwas much as I had been before, only now stripped, kneeling on the grass, myhands crossed and held before me by one man, the other readying his club tostrike out my brains. "No, no, I cried, "please, no! The man on the kaiilaagain spoke, and again I was released. Once more he pointed to the forepaws ofhis kaiila." She shuddered. She stopped speaking. There were tears in her eyes.

I saw that it would be difficult for her to continue.

"Yes?" I said.

"Must I continue?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. I did not see fit to show mercy to her. She was a slave.

"This time," she said, "I crawled to them on my belly. I put down my head. Ikissed the beast's paws. I licked and sucked them. I cleaned them of dirt anddust with my teeth, even the nails."

"Excellent," I said.

She looked at me, dismayed.

"Yes," I said, "excellent."

She put down her head.

The woman, of course, had been being assessed for slavery. First, she had beenstripped. In this, once the garments and the tiresome robes of concealment, hadbeen removed from her, once she had been exposed to the view of masters, fully,it had been determined that her face and figure, in themselves, did not militateagainst the plausibility of her being imbonded; they were desirable enough,other things being equal, to be of interest to men. They were good enough, otherthings being equal, to own. There are many beautiful women, of course. Beauty,strictly, is not even a necessary condition for bondage, let alone a sufficientcondition for it. Many women, in fact, do not even become beautiful, trulybeautiful, until after they have been collared.

In the second portion of her test, she had been commanded. On her knees,stripped, held, the club being lifted, she had become aware of the consequencesof failing this second portion of her test. She had then, in effect, petitionedthat this second portion of her test be readministered to her. She had beggedthen, in effect, to be given a second chance to prove her suitability forslavery. This chance, in the mercy of her captors, had been given to her. Shehad crawled to the paws of the savage's kaiila and there, on her belly, cleanedthem with her tongue and mouth. This was a behavior suitable for a slave, evenone who was not, at the moment, desperately striving to save her own life. Herperformance at the paws of the kaiila had apparently been adjudged adequate bythe savages. She knelt now before me, alive.

The significance of the test is clear. In performing such intimate acts, and onthe mere beast of the master, the humbled suppliant, the captured girl,acknowledges to both herself and others, nonrepudiably and publicly, that she isproposing herself as a serious candidate for bondage, that she is begging to beenslaved. Too, of course, such performances give the master an opportunity toobserve the touch, the sensitivity, the techniques and skill of the girl. If shecannot even function at the paws of a kaiila what should one expect in one's ownfurs? If she cannot even do well with an animal, what reason is there to expectthat she could do better with a man? The most significant aspect of this test,of course, is that it gives masters a means for determining not only or not thegirl is truly begging to be enslaved but, more importantly, whether or not sheis, truly, a slave. No girl is regarded as having passed this test who has not,in her performances, made it clear to all, save perhaps herself, that it istruly a slave who lies at the paws of the kaiila. This revelation becomesmanifest through subtle behavioral cues, usual physical, but sometimes verbal,as well.

I regarded the woman kneeling before me. That her brains had not been dashed outby the club of the savage indicated to me not only that she had, intimately andlengthily, in her performances, petitioned to be enslaved, but that she had, inthese same performances, proved herself a slave. I wondered if she knew that shewas a slave. I surmised that she still thought herself free. This delusion couldalways be dispelled at the convenience of a master. In the beginning,incidentally, the cues, which reveal slavery in a woman, can sometimes besubtle. Later, of course, as she grows in her slavery, as she realizes that herdeepest and most profound nature may not only be revealed, but must be revealed,that it is not only permissible to reveal her womanhood, but that it must berevealed, and fully, she, in accord with this liberation, undergoes a marveloustransformation; she tends to become vital and sensuous, and loving, and happy.

This is a beautiful transformation to see in a woman. Happy is he who has aslave.

"After your performances," I said, "Doubtless you expected to be well andlengthily ravished."

"Yes," she said, "almost from the first moment I felt the warm grass under mybelly, almost from the first moment I put my mouth to the paws of that beast"

"And were you?" I asked.

"No," she said, angrily. "I was bound, and given to these people."

"I see," I said. I had thought that it would be so.

"Do not fear," said Pumpkin to the stripped beauty, kneeling in the primitiveyoke, well fastened in it, "your trials and tribulations, your embarrassments,your hardships, your miseries, will soon be over."

"Do not slay me," she begged.

"That may be done to you, if Masters wish," I told her.

She turned white. I saw that, on some level, she understood that she was aslave.

"But you are very fortunate," said one of the Waniyanpi.

"The masters have seen fit to show you mercy," said another.

"At least for the time," said another.

"Masters?" she asked.

"Your masters, and ours," said Pumpkin, "Bondwoman."

"Bondwoman!" she cried, struggling in the yoke. But she did not try to rise toher feet. I think this was because I was present.

"Yes," said Pumpkin.

"We are going to call her Turnip," said one of Waniyanpi.

"I am a free woman," she cried. "I am the Lady Mira, the City of Venna!"

I smiled to myself. How naive seemed the kneeling slave, Turnip.

"By the instructions of our masters," said Pumpkin, "you are to be taken as youare, yoked and unclothed, to the con pound" Compound?" she asked.

"Yes, Garden Eleven, our home," said Pumpkin.

"You will be happy there," said one of the Waniyanpi.

"We all are," insisted another.

"Unfortunately," said Pumpkin, "you are to be taken there on a tether, marchedacross the grasslands, without clothing and in your yoke, much as might be anycommon Gorean slave, whose slavery is being impressed upon her."

"And, doubtlessly," she said, acidly, "I will give you much pleasure on thetrek."

"We will look forward to the pleasure of your company, said one of them.

"I see," she said.

"I do not think you do," I said, "at least as yet."

"Do not fear," said Pumpkin. "You will be treated, at times, with total dignityand respect."

"We will not even look at you, at least not directly," said another.

"That is," said another, "until your shame has been covered."

"Shame?" asked the girl.

"Your beauty, your prettiness," explained another.

Not all the Sames, those who have the unimportant and negligible property offemaleness, are as — healthy appearing as you," said another.

"Thus you might make them feel that they were not the same as you, or that youwere not the same as they," said another.

"They would not like that," said another.

"It is shameful not to make people feel they are the same, said another.

"Because everyone is the same, really," said another, "of course."

"Of course," said another.

"Too," said Pumpkin, "it can trouble the Sames who have the unimportant andnegligible property of maleness. It may make them have certain kinds offeelings."

"Not me," said one of the Waniyanpi.

"Nor I," said another. "I never have such feelings."

"But not all of us," said Pumpkin, "are as strong and good as Carrot andCabbage."

"I myself," said another, "can look on such things and not have the leastfeeling."

A chorus of admiration thrilled the Waniyanpi.

"Nor as Beans," said Pumpkin. "But for some of us your healthy appearance can beextremely disturbing."

"It makes me sick," said another.

"It makes me ill, too, to look upon it," said another. "I threw up when first Isaw it."

"Good," said another fellow.

"It disturbs me," said another fellow. "I admit that it is "An honest confession," said Pumpkin. "You are to be congratulated on yourcandor and veracity. The next task is to seek improvement."

"Yes," said the fellow who had spoken, contritely. "Perhaps if I were permittedto look upon it more often I might manage to steel myself against it."

"Plunge rather into arduous, time-consuming, mind-occupying labors," saidPumpkin.

"And bathe often in cold streams," advised another.

The fellow looked down. I did not blame him. I myself did not relish bathing incold streams. I preferred warm baths, being attended by a beautiful femaleslave. After all, should a free man be expected to apply his own oils, scrapethe dirt from his own skin with the strigil and towel himself?

"You see," said Pumpkin to the captured girl, "your appearance, even if it werenot so healthy looking. perhaps, can cause some of us to think certain thoughtsand have certain feelings. It can even bring about movements in our bodies. Thismakes it harder to be Sames. And it is shameful not to be Sames."

"For we are Sames," said another. "Everyone knows that."

"And thus it is," said Pumpkin, "that your appearance can cause shame, and as itcauses shame, it must be shameful."

"Too," said another, "it can distract from truly important things.

"Such as being Sames," said another.

"Yes," said Pumpkin.

The girl shuddered, convinced perhaps that she was in the presence of lunatics.

Madness is an interesting concept. As some define it, it is a function of thesocial conventions obtaining at a given time. In the country of the mad, thuslyonly the sane will be accounted insane. Acquiescence to con temporaryaxiological conventions, of course is not the only possible conceptual approachto such matters. Another approach might be to envision a world compatible withreality and congenial to human nature, a world in which science even socialscience, might be free, a world in which truth would not be against the law, aworld designed not for the crippling, distortion and torture of humanity but forits fulfillment" But do not fear," said Pumpkin to the girl, "for, soon when we reach thecompound, you will be decently clothed."

"Like you?" she asked. She regarded the long, gray, coarse, clumsy dresses onthe Waniyanpi with distaste.

"These garments help us to suppress our desires and keel us humble," said one ofthe Waniyanpi.

"We are reminded by them that we are all Sames," said another.

"That we all, when all is said and done," said another, "an naught butWaniyanpi."

This seemed to make sense to me. The human being has tendency to be consistent,no matter from what eccentric premises he may begin. He will normally behave ina way accordingly, that befits his clothing. This is perhaps the deeper sense ofthe English expression that clothing makes the man.

"Better to be stripped and have a string of hide tied on one's neck!" said thegirl, angrily.

"What is done to those in your compound who are not the same?" I asked.

"We attempt to convert them," said one of the men.

"We plead with them. We reason with them " said another.

"And what if you cannot convince them of the glories of sameness?" I asked.

"We then drive them out, into the Barrens, to die," said another.

"It grieves us to do so," said another.

"But it must be done," said another.

"The contagion of their heresy must not be permitted to Infect others," saidanother.

"The good of the whole must take precedence over the good of the parts," saidanother.

"You kill them?". I asked.

"No!" cried one.

"We cannot kill!" said another.

"It is against the Teaching," said another.

"But you banish them, on the supposition that they will perish in the Barrens,"

I said.

"Thusly, it is the Barrens which kills them, not us," said another.

"We are thus innocent," said another.

"Such banishment is acceptable to the Teaching?" I asked.

"Of course," said another. "How else is the compound to be ridded of them?"

"You must understand," said another, "it does not please us to do that sort ofthing."

"It is done only after every other alternative has been exhausted," saidanother.

"Difference strikes at the root of sameness," said another. "Sameness isessential to civilization itself. Difference, thus, threatens society andcivilization itself."

"It must thus be eradicated," said another.

"There is, thus, only one value, one virtue?" I asked.

"Yes," said another.

"One is one," said another, profoundly, "self-identical and the same."

"Sixteen is sixteen, too," I said.

"But sixteen is only sixteen times one, and thus all reduces to one, which isone," said another.

"What about one-half and one-half?" I asked.

"They add up to one," said another.

"What about one-third and one-third, then?" I asked.

"Each of those is but one number," said another, "and, thus, each is one, andone is one."

"What of the diversity you see about you," I asked, "say, of kaiila and sleen?"

"One kaiila and one sleen are both one, which is one," said another fellow.

"What about zero and one?" I asked.

"Zero is one number and one is one number, and thus each is one, and one isone," said another.

"What about nothing and one?" I asked.

"One is one, and nothing is nothing," said another, "so one is left with one,which is one."

"But you would have at least one nothing, wouldn't you? I asked.

"Nothing is either nothing or one," said another. "If it is nothing, then it isnothing. If it is one, then it is one, and on is one," said another.

"Thus, all is the same," said another.

"You are spouting total gibberish," I said. "Are you aware of that?"

"To the unenlightened profundity often appears gibberish, said another.

"Indeed," said another, "and to some who have lost the enlightenment it canalso appear gibberish."

"The more absurd something seems, the more likely it is to be true," saidanother.

"That seems absurd," I said.

"And, thus," said the fellow, "it, in itself, by the same proof, is shown mostlikely to be true."

"Is that supposed to be self-evident?" I asked.

"Yes," said another.

"It is not self-evident to me," I said.

"That is not the fault of its self-evidence," said another.

"You cannot blame its self-evidence for that."

"Something which is self-evident to one person may not be self-evident toanother," said another fellow.

"How can it be self-evident to one and not to another?" asked.

"One may be more talented in the detecting of self-evidence than another," saidanother.

"How do you distinguish between what merely seems self evident and that which istruly self-evident?" I asked.

"The Priest-Kings would not deceive us," said another.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"That is self-evident," said another.

"Have you ever been mistaken about what is self-evident?"

"Yes, frequently," said Pumpkin.

"How do you explain that?" I asked.

"We are weak, and frail," he said.

"We are only Waniyanpi," said another.

I regarded Pumpkin.

"To be sure," he said, "There is a place for faith in all of this."

"A rather large place, I conjecture," I said.

"Large enough," he said.

"How large is that?" I asked.

"Large enough to protect the Teaching," he said. _,"I thought so," I said.

"One must believe something," said Pumpkin.

"Why not experiment with the truth?" I said.

"We already believe the truth," said one of the fellows about.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"The Teaching tells us," said another.

"You must understand," said another, "that we do not like putting people out todie. It makes us very sorry to do this. On the occasions of expulsion we ofteneat a meal in silence, and weep bitter tears into our gruel."

"I am sure it is a touching sight," I said.

Pumpkin looked down toward the girl. He did not look directly at her, but sheknew herself to be the object of his attention, indirect though that attentionmight have been.

"Teach me your Teaching," she said. "I want to be a Same."

"Wonderful," said Pumpkin. He almost reached out to touch her, so pleased hewas, but suddenly, fearfully, he drew back his hand. He blushed. There was sweaton his forehead.

"Excellent," said more than one of the Waniyanpi "You will not regret it," said another.

"You will love being a Same," said another. "It is the only thing to be," saidanother.

"When we reach the vicinity of the compound," said Pumpkin, "and you are unboundand properly clothed, in suitable Waniyanpi garb, you will lead us all throughthe amRate preceding us, this thus attesting to your honor amongst us and the respectin which you are held."

"I shall look forward eagerly to my reception into the compound, " said thegirl.

"And so, too, shall we, welcome citizen," said Pumpkin.

He then turned to the others. "We must now return to our work," he said. "Thereis refuse to be gathered and debris to be burned."

When the Waniyanpi had filed away, taking their leave, I turned to regard thegirl.

"They are mad," she said, "mad," squirming in the yoke.

"Perhaps," I said. "I suppose it is a matter of definition."

"Definition?" she said.

"If the norms of sanity are social norms," I said, "by definition, the norm issane.

"Even if the society is totally misrelated to reality?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Even if they think they are all urts, or lizards or clouds?"

"I gather so," I said, "and in such a society the one who does not think that heis an urt, or, say, a lizard or a cloud, would be accounted insane."

"And would be insane?" she asked.

"On that definition," I said.

"That is a preposterous definition," she said.

"Yes," I admitted.

"I do not accept it," she said.

"Nor do I," I admitted.

"Surely there can be a better," she said.

"I would hope so," I said, "one that was framed with a closer regard forempirical reality, the actual nature of human beings, and such."

"Someone is insane," she said, "who believes false things."

"But we all, doubtless, believe many false things," I said "Theoretically a society could believe numerous false propositions and still, innormal senses of the word, be regarded as sane, if, in many respects, a mistakensociety."

"What if a society is mistaken, and takes pains to avoid rectifying its errors,what if it refuses, in the light of evidence, to correct its mistakes?"

"Evidence can usually be explained away or reinterpreted to accord withtreasured beliefs," I said. "I think it is usually a matter of degree. Perhapswhen the belief simply becomes too archaic, obsolete and unwieldy to defend,when it becomes simply preposterous and blatantly irrational to seriouslycontinue to defend it, then, perhaps if one still compulsively, to defend it,one might speak of sanity.

"I should think so," she said.

"But even then," I said, "other concepts might be more fruitful, such as radicalobstinacy or institutionalized irrationality."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because of the vagueness of the concept of insanity' " I said, "and its oftenimplicit reference to statistical norms. For example, an individual who believedin, say, magic, assuming that sense could be made of that concept, in a society,which believed in magic, would not normally be accounted insane. Similarly, sucha society, though it might be regarded as being deluded, would not, in alllikelihood, be regarded as insane."

"What if there were such a thing as magic?" she asked.

"That society, then, would simply be correct," I said.

"What of these people who were just here?" she asked. "Are they not insane?"

"By carefully chosen definitions, I suppose we could define them into sanity orinto insanity, depending on whether we approved of them or not, but it isdifficult to derive satisfaction from victories which are achieved by the cheapdevice of surreptitiously altering a conceptual structure."

"I think they are mad, insane," she said.

"They are at least mistaken," I said, "and, in many respects are different fromus."

She shuddered.

"The most pernicious beliefs," I said, "are not actually beliefs at all, but,better put, pseudobeliefs. The pseudobelief is not assailable by evidence orreason, even theoretically. Its security from refutation is the result of itscognitive vacuity. It cannot be refuted for, saying nothing, nothing can beproduced, even in theory, which could count against it. Such a belief is notstrong, but empty. Ultimately it is little more, if anything, than aconcatenation of words, a verbal formula. Men often fear to inquire into theirnature. They tuck them away, and then content themselves with other concerns.

Their anchors, they fear, are straw; their props, they fear, are reeds. Truth ispraised, and judiciously avoided. Is this not human cleverness. at it's mostremarkable? Who knows in what way the sword of truth will cut? Some men, itseems, would rather die for their beliefs than analyze them. I guess that itmust be a very frightening thing to inquire into one's beliefs. So few people doit. Sometimes one grows weary of blood-stainedtwaddle. Battles of formulas, you see, as nothing can count against them, aretoo often decided by wounds and iron. Some men, we have noted, are willing todie for their beliefs. Even larger numbers, it seems, are willing to kill forthem."

"It is not unknown for men to fight for false treasures," she said.

"That is true," I said.

"But, in the end," she said, "I do not think that the battles are fought for theformulas."

I regarded her.

"They are only standards and flags, carried into battle," she said, "stimulatoryto the rabble, useful to the elite."

"Perhaps you are right," I said. I did not know. Human motivation is commonlycomplex. That she had responded as she had, however, whether she was right orwrong, reminded me that she was an agent of Kurii. Such folk commonly see thingsin terms of women, gold and power. I grinned down at her. This agent, strippedand in her yoke, was well neutralized before me. She was no longer a player inthe game; she was now only a prize in it.

"Do not look at me like that," she said.

"I am not of the Waniyanpi," I said, "Female."

"Female!" she said.

"You had best begin to think of yourself in such terms," I said.

She twisted, angrily, in the yoke. Then she looked up at me. "Free me," shedemanded.

"No," I said.

"I will pay you much," she said.

"No," I said.

"You could take me from these fools," she said.

"I suspect so," I said.

"Then carry me off with you," she said.

"Do you beg to be carried off?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"If I did so," I said, "it would be as a slave."

"Oh," she said.

"Do you still beg to be carried off?" I inquired.

"Yes," she said.

"As a surrendered slave," I asked, "a total and abject slave?"

"Yes!" she said.

"No," I said.

"No?" she said.

"No," I said.

"Take me with you," she begged.

"I am going to leave you precisely where you are," I said, "my lovely mercenary."

"Mercenary?" she said. "I am not a mercenary! I am the Lady Mira of Venna, ofthe Merchants!

I smiled.

She shrank back on her heels. "What do you know of me she asked. "What are youdoing in the Barrens? Who are you?"

"You look well in the yoke," I said.

"Who are you?" she said.

"A traveler," I said.

"You are going to leave me here, like this?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I do not want to go to a compound of these people," she said. "They are insane,all of them."

"But you begged to be taken to their compound," I said "to be taught theirTeaching."

"I did not want to die," she said. "I did not want to be put out to die."

"You had best pretend well to believe their teaching," said. "They would not,most likely, look lightly on being deceived in this respect."

"I do not want to live a life of hypocrisy," she said.

"Doubtless many live such a life in the compound of the Waniyanpi," I said.

"Should I try to believe their absurdities?" she asked.

"It might be easier on you, if you could," I said.

"But I am not a fool," she said.

"To be sure," I said, "it is easiest to subscribe to odd beliefs when they havebeen inculcated in childhood. The trenchment of eccentric beliefs is commonlyperpetrated most successfully on the innocent and defenseless, even moresuccessfully than on the ignorant and desperate."

"I am afraid of them," she said.

"They will treat you with dignity and respect," I said, "as a Same."

"Better a collar in the cities," she said, "better to be abused and sold from apublic platform, better to be a slave girl fearful and obedient at the feet ofher master."

"Perhaps," I said.

"I am afraid of them," she.

"Why?" I asked.

"Did you not see how they would not look at me? I am afraid they will make meashamed of my own body."

"In all things," I said, "remember that you are beautiful."

"Thank you," she whispered.

To be sure, the danger of which she spoke was quite real. It was difficult forone's values not to be affected by the values of those about them. Even themarvelous beauties and profundities of human sexuality, I knew, incrediblyenough, in some environments tended to trigger bizarre reactions of anxiety,embarrassment and shame. To the average Gorean such reactions would seemincomprehensible. Perhaps such environments, apart from semantic might simply beregarded, if any, as insane. How tragic, in particular, it is, to see suchreactions being absorbed by children.

"Do you truly think I am beautiful?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Then take me with you," she begged.

"No," I said.

"You would leave me with them?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"It amuses me," I said.

"Tarsk!" she cried.

I held the quirt before her face. "You may kiss it," I told her, "or be beatenwith it."

She kissed the quirt, the supple, slim leather.

"Again," I told her, "lingeringly."

She complied. Then she looked up at me. "You called me a mercenary, ' she said.

"I was wrong," I said. "You are only a former mercenary."

"And what am I now?" she asked.

"Surely you can guess," I said.

"No!" she said.

"Yes," I assured her.

She struggled in the yoke, unavailingly. "I am helpless'" she said.

"Yes," I said.

She straightened her body. She tossed her head. "If you took me with you," shesaid, "I would doubtless be your slave."

"Totally," I told her.

"It is fortunate for me, then," she said, "that I will accompany the Waniyanpito their camp. There I will be free."

"The Waniyanpi are all slaves," I told her, "slaves of the red savages."

"Do the savages live in the compounds?" she asked.

"Not normally," I said. "They normally leave the Waniyanpi much alone. They donot much care, I think, to be around them."

"Then, for most practical purposes," she said, "They are slaves withoutmasters."

"Perhaps," I said.

"Then I, too, would be a slave without a master," she said.

"For most practical purposes, for most of the time, I suppose," I said. TheWaniyanpi, incidentally, are owned by tribes, not individuals. Their slavery,thus, is somewhat remote and impersonal. That one is owned by a collectivity, ofcourse, may obscure one's slavery but, in the final analysis, it does not alterit. Some slaves believe they are notcause their masters tell them so.

"That is the best sort of slave to be," she said, "one without a master."

"Is it?" I asked. Lonely and unfulfilled is the slave without a master.

"When I was taken prisoner," she said, "I feared I would be made a slave, a trueslave. I feared a tether would be-put on my neck and I would be ran to the campof a master, sweating at the lathered flank of his kaiila, that there I would behis, to be dressed, and worked and used as he pleased. I feared that hard laborsand degradation would be mine. I feared that a beaded collar would be tied on myneck. I feared that I would be subject to ropes and whips, unsparingly appliedif I were in the least bit unpleasing. Mostly I feared being alone with him inhis lodge, where I must, at his smallest indication, serve him intimately, andabjectly and lengthily, as his least whim might dictate, with the fullattentiveness and services of the female slave. You can imagine my terrors atthe mere thought of finding myself so helplessly belonging to a man, sohelplessly in his power, so helplessly subject to his mastery and domination."

"Of course," I said.

"And so it is," she said, "that I rejoice that I am to be spared all that. I amastonished at my good fortune. How foolish were the red savages to be so lenientwith me! ' "They am not fools," I said. I "They took other girls, ' she said, "I heard, to their camps."

"Yes," I said.

"That was not done with me," she said.

"No," I said.

"They spared me," she said.

"Did they?" I asked.

"I do not understand," she said.

"You were found with the soldiers," I said. I then turned from her and mountedthe kaiila.

"Yes?" she asked.

"The other girls were simply made slaves," I said. "They will now have the honorof serving worthy masters."

"And I? she asked.

"You, being found with the soldiers," I said, "and obviously a personage of someimportance, were singled out for punishment."

"Punishment?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. Indeed, I thought to myself, how much the red savages must hatethe soldiers, and those with them, and how subtle and insidious they had been.

"But I am to be respected and accorded dignity," she said, kneeling below me inthe grass, in her yoke. "I am to be sent to live with Waniyanpi!"

"That is your punishment," I said. I then turned the kaiila about, and left herbehind me, in the grass, in her yoke.

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