"You sleen!" I cried. I hurled myself at Cernus but two men seized me, threw me back, then held my arms.

"You, Tarl Cabot," said Cernus, "would never make a Player."

"Sleen! Sleen!" I cried.

"Kajuralia," said Cernus, smiling, and turned and left the cell.

I stared after him. My wrists fought the steel. Two of the guards laughed.

"Kajuralia," I said bitterly. "Kajuralia."

19 — THE CURULEAN

The sale of Elizabeth Cardwell, Virginia Kent and Phyllis Robertson, with that of Cernus' other trained barbarians, did not take place on the first night of the Love Feast, though they had been transported to the cages of the Curulean early in the first day.

The Love Feast, incidentally, as I may have mentioned, occupies the full five days of the Fifth Passage Hand, occurring late in summer. It is also a time of great feasting, of races and games.

Cernus, sensing the temper and curiosity of the crowds, had determined to make them wait for his surprise delights, over a hundred of them, whose supposed qualities of beauty and skill, enhanced by the mysterious aura of barbaric origin, had been for months the object of ever more eager rumors and excited speculations. Many were the furious Gorean slave girls who found themselves, early in the Love Feast, forced to ascend the block, while buyers were still waiting, before the largest quantities of gold would be spent, to be sold for prices less than they might otherwise have won for themselves under the conditions of a more normal market.

The evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast is usually taken as its climax from the point of view of slave sales. The fifth day, special races and games are celebrated, regarded by many Goreans as the fitting consummation of the holidays. These games are among the most heavily attended and important of the year. It was on the evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast that Cernus decided to bring Elizabeth Cardwell, Virginia Kent and Phyllis Robertson, with his other barbarian slave girls kidnapped from Earth, before the buyers, not only of Ar but of all the cities of known, civilized Gor.

It was now the fourth day of the Love Feast.

Hooded, a chain on my throat, my wrists in steel behind my back, I stumbled after a tharlarion wagon, to the back of which my throat chain had been bolted, through the streets of Ar. On the wagon there rode some eight guards. Behind me, prodding me upon occasion with the butts of their spears, there walked two others. On the seat of the wagon, which was drawn by a horned tharlarion, sat the driver and the Scribe whom I had known as Caprus, whose real name, as I had been informed, was Philemon of Tyros, an island some hundreds of pasangs west of Port Kar. In the House of Cernus, however, to all, he had been known simply as Caprus, having been introduced to the staff and guards in this fashion by Cernus. He had been a member of the staff of Caprus, the agent of Priest-Kings, until the latter had disappeared, presumably because he had displeased Cernus; Philemon of Tyros had then assumed Caprus' position and duties.

I was barefooted and not used to so walking the stone streets of Ar. Hooded, it was further difficult to pick my way. Particularly was I angered by the occasional large, flat blocks of stone placed across the streets, low enough to permit a wagon to pass over them, and separated by enough distance to allow the passage of a wagon's wheels, but surely a threat to a tethered fool, shackled and hooded, led on a chain behind a wagon. The purpose of the blocks, which are used where the streets are curbed, is to provide stepping stones for crossing the street when there have been heavy rains.

Occasionally, unexpectedly, I would be struck by a stone or a strap and hear a jeer or mocking cry.

It was hot in the slave hood, of several layers of thick leather, stifling, locked under my chin and about my throat; further, this hood, like many, was so constructed as to ensure silence in a prisoner; I could not spit out the thick leather wad that was packed in my mouth nor, because of the straps that held it in place, dislodge it.

Another strap stung my legs, across the calves. "Slave!" I heard.

It had been a girl's voice, perhaps a slave herself.

In Ar, as on Gor generally, a slave, on threat of torture and impalement, must endure whatever abuse a free person cares to inflict on him.

In my position, bound and hooded, anyone might strike me with impunity, even slaves.

Those who jeered me or sported with their straps and stones would have little reason for not thinking me slave. I was barefooted; my only garment was a short woolen, sleeveless tunic; on both the back and front of this tunic was sewn a large block letter, the initial letter of the Gorean expression "Kajirus," which means a male slave.

I fell down several times but the cart did not stop; each time I managed to regain my feet, though sometimes I was dragged for several yards before, nearly strangling, I managed to get up once more. Twice children tripped me; at least twice one of the guards with the butt of his spear did so. They laughed.

I knew that I was on my way to the Curulean.

I supposed that Elizabeth Cardwell would be pleased and excited at this hour.

In my heart I laughed bitterly.

"Slave!" I heard, and felt again the sting of a strap in someone's hand. And then the strap fell twice again. "Slave! Slave!"

When a girl first arrives at the Curulean, there is, on a ticket wired to her collar, a lot number. Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis would have the same lot number. The papers of most of the girls, including those of Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis, had been transmitted days before to the staff of the Curulean, to be checked for authenticity, and for the updating of certain endorsements. The papers are correlated with the lot number and the girls' fingerprints are taken and checked against those on the papers. Some girls, whom the House had determined late would be sold, arrive at the Curulean with a small leather cylinder tied about their collar, which contains their papers, which girl is then, by the staff of the Curulean, assigned a lot number. Lana, whom Ho-Tu, who held considerable power in the House of Cernus, had decided to sell at the Love Feast, so arrived at the Curulean. Virginia, thanks to Ho-Tu, need not fear that the forward Lana would be likely to soon grace the leash of her Relius. When the members of the staff of the Curulean are satisfied that the girl's papers are in order the ticket with her lot number is stamped approved.

I stumbled again, on one of the large, broad, flat stepping stones, and fell forward and was jerked by the chain tearing at the back of my neck, and struggled again to my feet, hearing through the thick layers of leather in the slave hood the laughter of the guards, as though far away.

The girls, when brought to the Curulean, are braceleted and naked; they have been chained in slave wagons; they are brought to a large, heavy, barred gate in the rear of the large building, through which they are led; the bracelets are, of course, to secure them; the lack of clothing is simply to save the trouble of transporting numerous sets of slave livery back to the House; by the time the girls arrive at the Curulean the slave livery which had been theirs may already have been washed and be drying, soon to be ready for issue to another.

"This is the Curulean," I heard Philemon of Tyros say, the words sounding far off, blurred through the hood.

The wagon stopped, and I felt the heavy, slack chain dragging at my collar.

This was the evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast, the climax of the feast insofar as the sales of slaves was concerned; this was the night Cernus would put his barbarian beauties on the block; tomorrow would be the concluding races and games, wild, dizzying hours in the Stadium of Tarns and that of Blades, bringing the Love Feast to its frenzied conclusion; it was tomorrow, in the Stadium of Blades, that Cernus had informed me I would die.