I was speechless.

Suddenly he threw me from him, violently I was hurled stumbling and falling to the rugs. I looked up at him from the rugs, terrified.

"You," he said,wear on your thigh the brand of a liar. You wear on your thigh the brand of a thief. You wear on your thigh the brand of a traitress!" "Please!" I wept.

"Pierced-eared girl!" he said, scornfully.

My hands, inadvertently, went to the rings in my ears. There were tears in my eyes.

To my terror I saw him unroll heavy furs and cast them scornfully over the rugs near the small fire.

Imperiously he pointed to them.

"Please!" I wept.

His finger inexorably indicated the furs.

I rose to my feet and, with a rustle of slave bells, approached him. I felt his hands on my arms. "You come from a world," he said, "in which women are the natural slaves of such men as those of Gor."

I could not look at him.

"And you are a liar," he said, "and a thief, and a traitress."

I then felt his face near mine.

"Do you know the perfume you wear?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"It is the perfume of a female slave," he said.

I put down my head.

I felt his hand on my head, lifting it. He was regarding the earrings. I put down my head again.

"Pierced-ear girl," he said.

I could not speak, but only tremble.

I then felt, to my dismay, his hand tear the ribbon of white silk from my collar. He threw it aside.

"No!" I begged him "You will be treated as what you are," he said, "as the lowest and miserable slave on Gor."

I dared not look into the eyes of my master.

"Lift your head, Girl," he said.

I heard the bells on my collar move as I did as I was commanded.

I looked into his eyes, and then, helplessly, thrust down my head. My entire body began to tremble, uncontrollably.

Never had I seen such eyes, terrible and dark, keen, those of a warrior. I stood before him, alone with him in his tent, at his mercy. My head was down. I felt small and helpless.

Then he took me in his arms.

With a jangle of slave bells and a cry of anguish I was forced back on the furs.

16 I Am Chained Beneath the Moons of Gor

"Let her be chained under the moons of Gor," had said Verna.

Rask of Treve had laughed.

I pulled at the chain on my left ankle. It was fastened in the heavy ring, in the heavy block of stone, set deep in the small, grassy knoll. I had seen this small hillock, with its ring, in my exploration of the camp. It was in an isolated portion of the camp. I was alone on the hillock, chained near its rounded summit. I could see, some dozens of yards away, the back of tents. I could see the points of the double palisade. The moons had not yet risen. I was angry. I sat in the grass. I was naked. I lifted my ankle and felt the heavy chain on it. How furious I was!

After my work for the day had been finished, I had hoped, breathlessly, vulnerably, that I might be again summoned to the tent of Rask of Treve. I had done my work well, and when I had finished early I had helped the other girls. I recalled that I had sung much during the day, and had been happy in my work. I had laughed much, too, and for the first time in weeks had eagerly conversed and sported, insisting that I be permitted to do so, with my sisters in bondage. Elinor Brinton, the Gorean slave girl, was now different than she had been. The other girls sensed this and, pleased, accepted me among them, as another mere slave, neither better nor worse than they themselves. When Ute and I had been alone I had fallen before her, begging her forgiveness with tears for how I had treated her so long before. She had smiled, and lifted me to my feet. There had been tears in her eyes. "Hurry to your work, Slave," she had said. She had then kissed me. I sprang to my feet and ran to my work, overcome with affection for her. She had forgiven me! I loved her! Ute, only of the leather workers, was the kindest, most generous, most loving girl I had ever known. How I hated myself for having once hurt her. Inge and Rena, I sensed, regarded me in a new fashion. "Slave!" they had said to me. And I had said to them, "Yesa€”Slave!" and kissed them. I had then sped away. They envied me. I pitied them in my way, for they were mere ignorant girls, white-silk girls. I was red silk! I jerked at my chained ankle, furious.

Why had I been put here?

"Let her be chained under the moons of Gor," had said Vern, and Rask of Treve, laughing, had had it done.

The chain was heavy on my left ankle.

The moons had not yet risen. The night was hot.

As I could, during the day, I had made it my business to pass near the tent of Rask of Treve, that he might see me.

But he had scarcely seemed to notice me.

Last night it had been different!

He had noticed me then!

I lay on my back, chained on the grass of the knoll, and laughed deliciously. I recalled each instant of the hours in his tent, and later, when I had lain at his side, holding him, my cheek pressed against his thigh, my hair about his body. He had slept, but I had not slept, not until morning, for I had wanted to continue to hold him.

At dawn he had sent me from his tent, to the shed for female work slaves. I had gone.

This evening Rask of Treve had supped with Verna, and I it was who had served them, only as before, their menial slave. Rask of Treve did not look upon me differently than he had before. It might have been as though the preceding night had not existed. I served well, and deferentially.

Would I be again summoned to his tent?

But he had called a guard. "Yes, Captain," has said the guard.

"Tonight," has said Rask of Treve, casually, "send the girl, Talena, to my tent."

"Yes, Captain," said the guard, and left.

My fingers went white on the plate that I had been holding. For a moment I could not see. I could not breathe. And then my face went white, with suppressed fury, concealing the scarlet rage that burned in my body.

"Wine," had said Rask of Treve.

I had poured him wine.

"Wine," had said Verna.

I served her.

I went to the side of the low table, and knelt there. I hated Talena! I wanted to throw myself upon her and scratch out her eyes, and tear her hair and bite and kick her until she screamed and screamed, and fled away! The daughter of a Ubar! She was only a slave! I was as good as she! I hated her! I hated her! "Your slave seems disturbed," said Verna, smiling.

I put my head down.

"Slave," said Verna.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"It is said, among the other girls, that you have told them that you are not as other women, that you do not have their weaknesses."

I recalled that one, in anger, I had told them this. I looked at Verna. I hated her. I knew, and she knew, that I had once seen her in the forest, helpless in her need. She was not likely to forget that, now was I eager that she do so. I smiled. Rask of Treve had given me some pleasure, of course. But, still, I was, I knew, not as other women. I was not as they. I did not have their weaknesses. "I cannot help the way I am," I told Verna, looking down, deferentially. Rask of Treve smiled.

"Let her be chained under the moons of Gor," had said Verna.

I looked at her, in anger.

Rask of Treve laughed. "Guard!" he called A guard entered the tent. Rask of Treve indicated me. "Chain her," he said, "under the moon of Gor."

"Come, Girl," said the guard.

I followed him.

I could now see the moons beginning to rise over the points of the palisade. What did I care that the girl, Talena, was tonight sent to the tent of Rask of Treve?

I hated him!

I hated her, even more than him!

I wished the guard had not taken my clothes.

But when a girl is chained under the moons of Gor, she is chained naked. I did not understand their intention.