Страница 59 из 93
"Does the Lady Florence wish to inspect her Kajirae?" inquired Ke
The body of the Mistress suddenly stiffened. "Yes," she said.
Then, in a moment, in her swirling skirt, and hood and veil, and boots, quirt in hand, she stood before the five Kajirae, members of her own sex, briefly tunicked, wearing feminine work collars, with rings, who knelt before her.
"Which of these," she asked, "is the favorite of the fighting slave, he named Jason?"
"Telitsia, this one," said Ke
Blond Telitsia looked up at her Mistress, frightened.
"Sell her," said the Lady Florence, and turned away.
19 TAPHRIS
The training beam, about a foot Gorean square, sunk a yard deep in its wood-lined well, braced, too, within the wooden-floored, high-roofed barn, shook with the blows struck against it. On my hands I wore the gu
I struck at the beam, denting it, causing it to shudder in its well and braces.
It had been yesterday that we had been inspected by the Mistress. After she had inspected me, it had seemed to me that she had brought her inspection to a rather swift termination. She had been cursory with the rest of the slaves in my line and she had barely glanced at the Kajirae.
I struck again and again at the beam. It is important to maintain one's balance. This permits maneuverability and reduces the opponent's opportunities to take advantage of a misstep or a momentary clumsiness in the distribution of one's weight; too, it provides greater impact for the blows which one strikes. My feet seldom moved more than some twenty inches apart; earlier in my training my ankles had been shackled; now, kinesthetically, habitually, without thinking, I tended almost invariably to maintain a sensible measure between my feet; I stayed, too, generally on my toes; thin reduces friction and enables quickness of movement; too, in the fighting pit, the toe, gouging into the sand, the body moving forward, increases leverage. Many slave fights are little more than bloody brawls, which free persons are pleased to witness. Ke
I struck again and again at the beam, pummeling it. It groaned. I heard it crack. Again and again, over and over, I struck at it. The ceiling of the high-roofed barn and its walls rang with the sound of the blows on the weakening wood. I sensed that it would soon give way. I increased the number and speed of my blows.
Sometimes as often as every fourth or fifth day I was hooded and chained, and placed in a wagon, usually with some fellow slaves, fighters, too. I would then be unchained and unhooded, in my turn, in a shallow pit, about which free persons, almost always of low caste, would be gathered. In the pit, too, would be another slave. Our hands would be wrapped in leather that they might not be easily broken. One might kick but holds to the death were not permitted. One fought, with occasional rest periods, for this makes the fight last longer, the fighters being briefly refreshed, until one man or the other could no longer fight. There would be much shouting and betting. I had lost my first matches in our own stables but, in time, with training and advice, and pit experience, I had begun to do well. I had won my last seventeen bouts, five of which had been outside our own stables: I was usually one of a team of five fighters, divided by weight. I was in the heaviest weight class. Some small men, as is well known, are extremely fine fighters, though, of course, they do not have the size and weight to consistently best larger men, assuming that the distribution of skills is similar.
The beam splintered suddenly away, shattering back from the weights on my hands.
I threw back my head, sucking in air.
I sensed her suddenly beside me, the small, blond female, collared, in the brown rag.
"Telitsia," I said.
She removed one of the gu
"Does Ke
She returned to my side and, from my right fist, removed gently the heavy, curved weight with which it was clad.
"Does Ke
She placed the second weight beside the first on the shelf. She turned and looked at me. I looked at her. She trembled. She put down her head, and went to a water-filled wooden bucket in the corner of the barn. There was a gourd dipper near the bucket. She lowered the gourd dipper into the water and then, the dipper brimming, returned to my side. I took the dipper and drank. I handed the dipper back to her and she returned it to its place. Her small, bare feet dislodged sawdust on the floor of the barn. She returned to my side with a large, coarse towel, and began, gently, to towel my body. I was soaked with sweat. We were alone in the barn. There were several stalls in the barn. These were empty, but filled with clean straw. She continued to towel my body.
I thrust back the hair from my eyes.
She was now on her knees beside me, head down, trembling, toweling my legs.
"Does Ke
She continued, head down, to towel my legs.
"Speak, female," I told her.
"No." she whispered.
She looked up at me, suddenly. "The wagon is to come for me this afternoon," she said. "I am to be taken to the market. I am to be sold."
"I know," I said.
"I do not want to be sold," she wept.
"You are a slave," I told her. "Your wishes are unimportant."
"I know," she whispered.
She continued to towel my body. "The wagon will be here soon," she said.
I nodded. She would then be hooded and bound, and placed in the wagon for transport to the market.
Suddenly she flung away the towel and, sobbing, looked up at me, tears in her eyes. She was quite beautiful, kneeling barefoot before me, clad only in the brief, sleeveless brown rag of a slave, her blond hair about her shoulders, her blue eyes moist, her throat graced by the narrow collar of dark iron, slave iron. "Telitsia is at your feet," she whispered, piteously, "-Master."