"Yes, Master," I said.

I had been summoned more than once to his couch.

I poured him a cup of water from the small verrskin bag over my shoulder.

It was hot on the parapet. The stones were hot to my bare feet. I wore a brief, one-piece, brown work tunic. It was all I wore, with the exception of the collar. We wore such tunics when engaged as work slaves. The tunics of work slaves are usually brown or gray.

I looked above me at the posts mounted on the walls. Between them was slung fine wire, gently bending and swaying in the slow breeze of the hot afternoon. Such wire is tarn wire. It is used to prevent the descent of tarns into the courtyard of a fortress. It is common in Gorean defenses.

I looked again over the wall.

"Master," I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"I see dust there," I said, pointing to the road beneath, winding toward the fortress.

"They have him," said the soldier beside me.

Two tharlarion, ponderous and stately, made their way toward the keep. They were mounted by two warriors, with lances. More warriors, eight men from the keep, followed, bearing spears. Between the tharlarion, fastened by neck chains, running to the stirrups of the two beasts, strode a man. He was dark-haired. He wore chains. His wrists were fastened behind his back.

"Who is it, Master?" I asked.

"We do not know," said the soldier. "But word had come to us that he had been making inquiries concerning the keep, its defenses, and such."

"What is to be done with him?" I asked.

"He has been brought in," said the soldier. "Doubtless he will be branded, and enslaved. I do not envy him."

I watched the man. He walked proudly. I knew there were male slaves on Gor, but I had not seen them. Most Gorean slaves are female. Male 'captives are commonly killed.

"Bring water to the men, Slave Girl," said the soldier.

"Yes. Master," I said. I took the cup back from the soldier, and hurried on along the parapet, to serve others.

When I was descending the stairs and had come to the courtyard between the walls, the gate had been opened, and the party, with their prisoner, had entered. The gate then closed behind them. Borchoff, captain of the keep, came to inspect the prisoner. I, curious, stood idly by, watching, the emptied water bag over my shoulder, my ankles in the dust of the courtyard.

The man was tanned, dark-haired, very dark-haired, large, strong. He wore chains. His hands were manacled behind him. He stood proudly between the two beasts, bearing easily the weight of the two stirrup chains attached to his capture collar.

It pleased me to see a man captive. He wore heavy iron manacles and could not hurt me. I approached more closely. His guards did not stop me.

"What is your name?" asked Borchoff of the man.

"I do not remember," he said.

He was struck by one of the guards.

"For what purpose," inquired Borchoff, "were you attempting to ascertain the nature of our defenses?"

"It has slipped my mind," said the man.

Again he was struck. He scarcely flinched, though the blows were cruel.

Borchoff turned away from the man, to converse with the lieutenant, one of the men on the tharlarion, pertaining to the details of the prisoner's capture.

I approached the prisoner more closely. None stopped me. He looked upon me. I blushed hot red. My body was not much concealed in the brief one-piece work tunic, and I wore a collar. Gorean men have a way of looking at a woman which is like stripping them and putting them to their feet. I felt naked. I put my hand to the thin brown cloth, clutching it, as though to close it more, but I only moved it more tightly about me and higher upon my thighs. I felt, under his gaze, that every detail of my body must be clear to him. I shrank back.

Borchoff turned about, briefly. "Taunt him," said he, "Dina."

"I warn you, Captain," said the prisoner. "Do not do to me the insult of the taunting slave girl."

"Taunt him," said Borchoff, to me, then turning away.

The prisoner stiffened in silent rage. Suddenly I felt very powerful. He was helpless. And, too, almost overwhelming me, I felt a sudden fury against men, for what they had done to me, even to the collar and brand. And this man was Gorean, and he had, a moment before, looked upon me as a master upon a slave girl.

"Yes, Master," I said to Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.

I approached the prisoner, looking up at him. He looked away. "Does Master fear a slave girl?" I asked. I touched him with my finger, tracing idly on his shoulder. I smiled to myself. The only men I knew who would fear a slave girl would be men of Earth. A slave girl would confuse and frighten them. They would not know what to do with one. They would doubtless attempt to indoctrinate her swiftly with masculine values, and turn her into an imitation man. She would then be safe for them. They would doubtless proceed in this matter regardless of her feelings, oblivious of her integrities, for they would not be truly interested in fulfilling her nature, whatever it might be, but in avoiding the responsibilities of their own. Women and men are identical; this the defensive thesis of weak, fearful men. It is simple. If women are not women, then they need not be men. Why do many men fear manhood? I do not think it would be so terrible.

"You are large and strong, Master," I said to the prisoner. "And you are handsome, too," I said.

He looked away, angrily.

"Why do you not take me in your arms, and kiss me as a slave girl?" I whimpered. "Do you not find me attractive?"

He said nothing.

"Oh," I said, "you wear chains." I kissed at his arm. He was more than ten inches taller than I, and must have weighed twice as much. I was very small next to him.

"Let Dina give you pleasure, Master," I whispered. "Let Dina please you." I bit at his tunic, which was torn, with my teeth. "You should let Dina please you," I said, "for soon you may be branded, and then you will be only a poor little slave like Dina." With my teeth I tore away his upper tunic, stripping him to the waist. He had a mighty chest. I caressed his flanks, and licked and bit at his belly. "Male slaves," I said, "may be slain for so much as touching a slave girl." I looked up at him. "Dina is sorry that you will soon be a slave, Master," I said.

"I will not be a slave," he said. I looked at him, puzzled. Then again he did not look at me.

I took the waist of his tunic in my teeth.

"Do not, Slave Girl," said he.

I shrank back, frightened.

"Run along, Dina," said Borchoff, returning to the prisoner.

"Yes, Master," I said.

I left them, returning to the quarters for female slaves, to swim, and bathe and refresh myself before the duties of the evening.

"Fetch in the prisoner," called Borchoff, rising behind the low table in the hall of Turian pleasures, lifting his goblet.

I knelt near the man to whom I had served meat. The platter was now empty.

The girl in yellow silk had stopped dancing, and the musicians were quiet.

There must have been some fifty men in the hall, and most of the girls.

"Welcome," called Borchoff, as the prisoner was bro9glit in. He wore chains on his ankles, and his hands were locked behind his back in iron manacles. He had been much beaten.

The prisoner was thrown to his knees before Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.

He was held on his knees by two guards.

"You are guest here," said Borchoff. "Tonight you will feast."

"You are generous, Captain," said the man.

"Tomorrow," said Borchoff, "you will speak beneath our persuasions."

"I do not think so," said the man.

"Our methods are efficient," said Borchoff.

"They have not yet served," said the man.

Borchoff appeared angry.

"But I will speak when it pleases me," said the man.