"Someone is coming!" I called back, softly, to my master" s men. They were placing the bound, gagged fellow in the cart. They would tie him there. Then they would cover him with a tarpaulin.

"Close?" asked the first of my master" s men.

I nodded.

"Delay him," called the fellow, a fierce, projected whisper.

The approaching fellow was some ten to fifteen yards away, to my left. He wore a short cloak, fastened by a large bronze pin at the right shoulder, high, bootlike sandals, and a broad-rimmed hat. A sack was slung on a stick, the stick resting over his shoulder. He carried, on a strap over his left shoulder, the strap under his cloak, a sword. I supposed that he might be able to use it. The hat, with its broad brim pulled down against the sun, with its attendant shadow, muchly concealed his features. I took him for a traveler. It is a not unusual traveling costume for males on Gor. such a costume, too, it might be mentioned, is often worn for hunting. Head down, I hurried forth, and knelt before him, blocking his way. I put my had down to his feet. This is a suitable deference in a female slave before a free male. I tensed, for I expected, having so blocked his path, to be kicked, or struck. I must then try to seize an ankle, or knee, pleading desperate need. I knew I might risk a thrashing with his stick. But I had been ordered to delay him, and delay him I would, if I could. "A needful slave begs master to take pity upon her," I said. I trembled. But I did not feel the scorn of his foot, thrusting me to the side, toward the central gutter in the street, nor did I feel his hand in my hair, yanking my head up, to lash my face back and forth with what would undoubtedly have been a well-deserved cuffing. He did not even spit upon me, or cry out in anger, or deride me, or even order me from his path. Swiftly I began kissing, and licking, at his feet, performing appropriate obesiances before him, a male. I was puzzled. Then I was afraid. Gorean masters are often kind to needful slaves, acceding to their pleas for sex. Though I was eager to be touched, and Tyrrhenius of Argentum, my master, had, as a matter of policy, kept me in a torment of sexual deprivation. I did not want this fellow, a stranger accosted on the street, to use me. My master" s men were nearby.

"You kiss and lick as well as ever, perhaps even better, Doreen," he said. "Or is it still «Doreen»? he asked.

I looked up, startled.

"I am now Tuka, Master," I said.

"An excellent name for a slave slut such as you," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

"You know me, do you not?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, Master," I whispered, frightened.

"It was because of you," he laughed, "curvy little she-urt, that I lost my post in Brundisium."

"Forgive me, Master," I said. I feared that he might whip me.

"I do not blame Hendow for being jealous," he said. "A man might be driven to distraction by a face and curves like yours."

"Thank you, Master," I whispered.

"But I taught you something of what it is to be a slave, did I not?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said. It was very true.

"You were stolen, weren" t you?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"That is what I heard in Brundisium," he said. "I did not think Hendow would have let you go."

"Perhaps not, Master," I said. I did not really know. It seemed to me implausible that Hendow could have cared for me. He had used me only once, and then ruthlessly. On Earth weaklings who wish to rid themselves of women sometimes take refuge in the comforting rationalization that they "love them enough to let them go." That position, whatever may be its moral or psychological merits, does not represent a typical Gorean response, at least where slaves are concerned. Most Gorean would regard it as absurd to let a woman go for whom one truly cared. One shows caring by keeping. And, if necessary, by fighting. What woman, I wondered, could not see through such cant? Most women, it seemed to me, would prefer a man who cared enough for her to keep her, one who was willing, even, to fight for her, rather than one who was willing to "let her go."

"Apparently Tupita was stolen at the same time," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said. It did not seem to me important to tell him that Tupita had been attempting to escape, using my sales price to purchase passage from Brundisium. "You did not come to Argentum searching for me, did you?" I asked. "Hardly," he laughed.

"Oh," I said. I had thought he might have done so. I was a bit miffed by this. He laughed.

"Master is far from Brundisium," I observed.

"I have come to Argentum seeking my fortune," he said. "I will seek service with some mercenary captain."

It seemed to me certainly that one might find such service closer to Brundisium. "What happened to Tupita?" he asked. "Do you know what became of her?" "We were both sold in Samnium," I said. "I do not know who purchased her. I do not know where she went."

"She was pretty," he said.

"Yes, Master," I agreed.

"The recovery period is passed, long ago," he said. "You are both the full legal properties of your new masters."

"Yes, Master," I said. I heard the wheels of the cart trundling from the alleyway now. The fellow who had been bound and gagged was doubtless now tied down in the cart, hand and foot, belly and neck, and covered by the tarpaulin.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, Master," I said.

"Are you hips still loose?" he asked. "Do you still sway well?" I cast a frightened glance back toward the opening of the alleyway. "My current master does not use me as a dancer," I said.

My master" s men, with the cart, one of them drawing the car, the other thrusting it from behind, emerged from the alleyway. "Greetings, Citizen," said the first of my master" s men, he between the handles of the cart.

"Greetings," said the fellow before whom I knelt. He was not, of course, a citizen of Argentum.

"Watch out for her," grinned the first of my master" s men. "She hangs out around here from time to time, begging to be touched."

"Thank you for the warning," laughed the fellow before whom I knelt. I put my head down, so spoken of. Yet truly I was needful. It seemed my sexual needs had increased a thousand times on Gor. I could not help myself.

"Have you contented her?" asked he before whom I knelt.

"Not I," laughed the fellow. "She is in a collar. She is nothing. Let her grovel, and scream with need. It amuses us."

"I see," said the fellow before whom I knelt. He did not seem too pleased with what he had heard.

"Besides," said the first of master" s men, "as you can see, her pretty, little body is snugly enclosed in the iron belt."

"So it might seem," said the fellow before whom I knelt.

They then, to my relief, seemingly continued on their way, albeit slowly, one drawing the cart, the other pushing it. Perhaps the cart was heavy.

"I must go now, Master," I said. I wished to leap up, and be on my way. "Have I given you permission to rise?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master."

I could see, behind him, that the two men of my master had stopped, apparently adjusting the tarpaulin in the cart.

"The key has been left in the belt," he said. "Did you know that?" he had had no difficulty in making this determination, as I had knelt before him, earlier, my head down to his feet.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"That would seem very careless of your master," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Perhaps he does not pay as close attention to you as he might," speculated the fellow.

"Perhaps, Master," I whispered.

I looked beyond the man, to my master" s men. The cart was now a few yards down the street. The first of my master" s men was looking at me. The second was pretending to be inspecting the wheel of the cart.