"I see that you have won the favor of a free woman," said a man.

"What?" I asked. I thought he referred to the free woman, she who had just disappeared among the revelers.

"That," he said, indicating the silken favor in the eyelet of my robes.

"Oh!" I said. "yes, it would seem so." I looked at the favor. I had forgotten it.

"Paga?" said he, extending his bota.

"Surely," I said. We exchanged swigs of paga.

"It must be ice to have won the favor of a free woman," he said.

"I and a few hundred other fellows," I said.

"That particular favor," he said.

"Alas," I said, "even there I fear I am but one of ten."

"One out of fifteen," he said.

"Oh?" I said.

"Yes," he said.

I shrugged. The game of favors can be played with any number of favors and contestants, but the usual number of favors distributed is ten.

"Happy carnival," he said.

"Happy carnival," I said.

I turned to proceed to the check point where I would turn in my numbered receipt and reclaim my weapons. The crowds had thinned now, but the piazza was till, for the most part, crowded.

I stumbled, and then straightened myself. Surely I had not had that much paga.

I took another step or two, and then I slipped to one knee. The piazza seemed to move beneath me. I caught my balance. I was conscious of masks and costumes swirling about.

"What is wrong?" asked a voice.

"He has had too much paga," said another voice.

I wanted to rise to my feet, but I slipped to the tiles.

"It is al right," said a voice.

Things began to grow dark. I fought to retain consciousness. It was difficult to move. I could not speak.

"Put a mask on him," whispered a voice.

I felt a carnival mask fastened on me.

"No," I seemed to say, but no sound escaped my lips.

I felt myself lifted to my feet, each of my arms held about the shoulders of a man.

"What is wrong with him," asked a voice.

"Too much paga," responded a voice.

"Is he all right?" asked a voice.

"Yes," said a voice.

"No!" I wanted to cry, but could not.

"Do you require help?" asked a man.

"No," said a voice, that of one of the two men supporting me.

"Are you sure?" asked the man.

"Yes, citizen," said the other fellow supporting me. "We will manage quite well. Thank you."

I then sensed we were alone.

"Put him in the boat, with the others," said a voice. It was a woman's voice.

I then lost consciousness.

3 Lady Yanina

"That one," she had said. "Have him brought to my tent."

"Go in," said the guard.

I lowered my head and entered the tent. I moved my hands upon my wrists. They were ringed and sore where the manacles, too closely fitted, had clasped them. I straightened my body.

The tent was one of rich cloths, supported by five poles. It was rich with hangings and, about its interior circumference, furnished with suitable appointments, including vessels, cushions, a low inlaid table, cases and trunks. These, with the various materials for the tent, and its poles, had been disembarked from a large, high-wheeled wagon. I, with several others, in harness, some others chained by the neck behind, had drawn this wagon for the past two days.

I, and others, had awakened to the blows of spear butts, three days ago.

"On your knees," we had been told, "head to the dirt! You are in the presence of your Mistress!"

We had struggled to our knees. Our hands were namacled behind our backs. There seemed the stench of fish on us. We were connected by the neck, by collars and chains.

I had been aware of someone stopping before me.

"Lift your head," had said a woman's voice.

I looked up. She was veiled, and clad, too, in robes of concealment, sumptuous robes which seemed incongruous in the open terrain, the grassy field, in which I found myself. I looked about, seeing what guards I could. I saw five. I felt her tharlarion quirt at the side of my face, indicating I should keep my head forward. Then it pressed up, under my chin. I lifted my head higher, obedient to the quirt, looking up at her. "That is better," she said. She looked at me. "It seems I have won the game of favors," she said.

"At least for now," I said.

"In the distribution of my favors in the piazza in Port Kar," she said, "I had two major criteria in mind. Would you like to know what they were?"

"Of course," I said.

"First," she said, "the males must be large and strong. They must be suitable for inclusion in a work chain. They must be capable, with their bestial strength, of sustaining indefinitely so onerous a servitude."

"And what is your second criterion," I asked, "that which they must also meet, what is that?"

"I must find them, personally, of some sexual interest," she said.

"I see," I said.

"We are going to get on splendidly, aren't we?" she asked.

"On whose terms?" I asked.

"On mine," she said.

"I do not know," I said.

"Do you know how to obey?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Then I am sure we will get on splendidly-on my terms," she said.

"Perhaps," I said.

She withdrew the quirt from beneath my chin. "Put your head down," she said, "-to the dirt."

I did so. And, in a moment, she had continued on down the line, pausing her and there to order another fellow to lift his head, to be commanded and interrogated, and then to resume a posture of abject obeisance.

"Approach," she said.

Within the tent there was an inner sanctum, or private area, formed of diaphanous, white hangings. It was rather like a small tent, or walled room, within the larger tent. It was within this area that I could see her, vaguely. There was a tiny lamp on a stand, near her, to one side. She was sitting on a curule chair.

"approach," she invited me.

I brushed back the hangings and let them fall closed behind me. I then stood before her, a few feet away, within the sanctum.

On the floor there were cushions and silk. I stood straight, my arms folded, surveying her.

I could detect perfume.

"You have my permission to kneel," she said.

I regarded her.

"There are guards, just outside," she said.

I knelt. I put my hands on my thighs.

"You have broad shoulders," she said, "a narrow waist. You have strong thighs. Your hands are large and strong."

I said nothing.

"You are a large, strong, handsome-looking fellow," she said, "very animal-like. If you were not in my total power, I might be uneasy."

"You have me at a disadvantage," I said, "as you are veiled, and fully clothed."

"At least you no longer smell of fish," she said.

"No," I said.

"That is how you and your fellows were smuggled out of Port Kar," she said. "We took you, one by one, drugged, to the boat. There we stripped and chained you. You were each packed in a barrel with salted parsit fish, and over your heads these barrels had a false bottom, which was covered with more parsit fish. Tiny holes in the upper sides of the barrels would permit you to breathe. The barrels were then sealed."

"The captures were smoothly and cleverly effectuated." I observed.

"Thank you," she said.

"Are you a female slaver?" I asked.

"No," she laughed, "though I think I might have been successful in such a profession."

Most female slavers, incidentally, are not involved in field captures. It is, one the whole, too dangerous for them. Too, there is always the danger that they might be added to the catch by their men. Most female slavers, accordingly, are established in cities, where they own or manage houses. There they buy and sell slaves, board or rent them, train, them, and so on. Statistically, there are very few female slavers. Most Gorean women tend to be attractive, and most Gorean men tend to be strong, for example. Accordingly, in a business such as slaving it is not unusual that the female slaver sooner or later, in one way or another finds the collar on her own throat. That, then, she then helplessly under the whip like any other female, is that.