I squirmed in the netting, but could not free myself. I looked at her in fury.

"You are the catch of the huntress," said Bina.

"Bina!" I heard. "Teela!"

"I am coming," cried Bina. "Teela is ill!" She then blew me a kiss, and hurried out of the room.

I struggled, helplessly.

It was the first hour in the morning, of the same night, when Bina returned.

She was radiant.

She removed the netting from me, and the gag from my mouth.

"Thandar of Ti?" I asked.

"He is gone now," she said. She happily undid the netting which confined my ankles.

"You did not tell him?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Of course not."

"You are a fool," I said.

"It was I," she said, "of the six girls whom he chose to pour his paga."

"Six?" I asked.

"When you were taken ill," she laughed, "Busebius sent Helen to serve with us."

"I see," I said. "Would you please unsnap the hook bracelets?"

In an instant, with infuriating ease, she had opened the snaps, freeing my wrists, one from the other. I was furious. It was so simple. She who wears the bracelets, of course, cannot reach the snaps.

"It was I, too," said Bina, dreamily, "whom he took to serve him in the alcove." She closed her eyes, holding herself with her arms. "Oh, how beautiful he is," she said, "and. how well I served him." She opened her eyes. "The pleasure he gave me!" she moaned. "I could not believe the pleasure." She looked at me, directly. "How fortunate it is," she said, "that I did not become his companion."

"I do not understand," I said.

"For then, this night, I could not have been his slave," she whispered.

"Oh," I said.

"I shall remember all my life," she said, "the night I was slave to Thandar of Ti."

I looked down. I remembered the joy of once having been the slave of Clitus Vitellius, of having been his to dominate and command.

Then I remembered that I hated him.

"Teela," said a voice, a man's voice, that of Busebius.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Why then," he asked, "are you not in your silk and pouring paga?"

I looked at his whip.

"I hurry, Master!" I said, quickly.

"Paga!" called a man, and I, in bells and silk, hurried to him, to pour him drink.

I was barefoot on the tiles. The slave bells, thonged, were tied about my left ankle.

There were fewer now in the tavern, and in another Ahn or two we would close the doors.

Some of the girls, already, had been permitted to retire. I knelt before the man and poured him paga, head down.

The hook bracelets had been removed from my wrists by Busebius, who held their key.

I wore only bells and silk. It was late. The earrings, the necklace, the armlet, I had left in the room of preparation. I was now only a simple paga slave.

Only one other girl was on the floor.

"Paga," said a man's voice. I turned toward him. I saw he sat with a second man.

I knelt before them, head down, and poured the paga into his cup.

"Serve me the paga," said the man.

I put down the paga flask which I carried that I might, unencumbered, assume the position of serving paga, or wine, to a Gorean male.

"First remove the silk," he said.

I did so. He was a customer. I was his to command. Then I knelt naked before him, head down.

"You may now serve the paga," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

I reached to take the cup, in both hands. One kneels, one proffers the cup, head down, with both hands, to the male.

I reached to take the cup.

Suddenly, on my closely placed wrists, ns I went to lift the cup, with a startling flash of metal and two swift snaps, slave bracelets locked.

I looked up, startled.

"No!" I cried.

"We have you," he said. I tried to jerk back but his hand, on the chain between the bracelets, held me, my hands confined in his bracelets.

"You have been the object of an intensive and difficult search," said the second voice.

I regarded them, terrified.

"I have sold you for two tarsks to these gentlemen," said Busebius. I felt him remove the thonged slave bells from my left ankle. He placed them on the table. I felt him thrust a key into the small, heavy lock at the back of my collar. He opened it, and placed it, too, on the table. "She is yours, Masters," be said.

"Oh, no, no!" I begged.

Busebius turned and left the table.

"We have paid two silver tarsks for you," said one of the men. I knelt naked before them, horrified, wearing their bracelets.

"You are now ours," said the other man.

"Do not kill me," I begged.

"Serve us paga," said the first man.

Trembling I, nude, braceleted, proffered paga first to one, and then the other. They drank slowly, enjoying their triumph and my misery.

"We must now be on our way," said the first man.

Each took one of my arms, and between them, half thrust, half dragged, they forced me from the paga tavern.

"Please do not kill me," I begged.

They were the two men whom I had first encountered on Gor, when I had awakened, nude, chained by the neck in the wilderness. They had, at one point, prepared to cut my throat.

"Please do not kill me!" I begged. "Please, Masters, do not kill me!"

Between them, held, braceleted, I was forced from the tavern, and out onto the long bridge, into the Gorean night.

15

I Am Spoken To By My Mistress

I was thrown to the tiles before the recumbent figure seated on the curule chair.

"This is your mistress," said one of the men, indicating the recumbent figure, with lovely figure, veiled and gowned who sat easily, regally, on the curule chair.

I looked up from my knees, her slave. The bracelets had been removed from me. I had been placed in a brief white house tunic, sleeveless.

I was barefoot. It was all I wore.

"Leave us," said the seated woman. The two men withdrew.

I put my head down to the tiles, alone with my mistress.

"Lift your head, Judy," said the woman.

I looked up, startled.

"Do you not know me, Judy?" asked the woman.

"No, Mistress," I said.

The woman put back her head and laughed merrily.

My mind raced. I could not know her. And yet she spoke as though I should know her. And she had called me Judy. I had not been called Judy since I had left Earth.

"Judy Thornton," laughed the woman. I detected by her laughter that she was young, that she, too, was only a girl, save perhaps that she might be a bit older than I. My mistress was a girl. I was owned by a girl!

"Mistress?" I asked.

"Has slavery been hard for you, lovely Judy?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, Mistress!" I said.

"Would you not like to be free?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress!" I cried.

Smiling, with a graceful gesture, the woman lifted back her veil, revealing her face.

"Elicia!" I cried. "Elicia Nevins!" I cried, weeping with joy. I threw myself into her arms, sobbing. And she put her arms about me. I could not control my emotions. The ordeal was now over. I shook, half choking, half sobbing. Behind me now was the steel of slave bracelets, the fear of the whip, the misery and degradation of the slave girl. "I love you, Elicia!" I cried. "I love you!" I would now be free. Soon, with Elicia's help, I would be returned safe to Earth. She had rescued me! "I love you, Elicia!" I wept.

The woman thrust me from her, and I, startled, slipped back, losing my footing, to the tiles. I was on my knees.

I looked at her, puzzled.

"It is well," she said, "that a slave girl loves her mistress."

"Please do not joke," I begged.

"Are you not grateful to me?" she asked.

"Yes! Yes!" I cried. "I am grateful, so grateful, to you, Elicia!"