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prow.
 Who is it? she asked.
I said nothing.
 Please, she begged.  Who is it?
 Be silent, said I,  Slave.
A small cry of anguish escaped her.
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With a movement of the Gorean blade I cut the fiber at her ankles.
Then, standing on the rail of the foredeck, my left had on the prow, I cut
first the fiber binding her at the throat, and then that binding her at the
waist.
Then, resheathing my sword, I eased her, wrists bound, down the prow, until
her feet at last stood on the rail, on which, beside her, I stood.
I turned her about. She saw me, the black, swollen mouth, the eyes, and
screamed helplessly.
 Yes, I said,  it is I.
Then, cruelly, I took her head in my hands and pressed my lips upon hers.
Never had I seen a woman so overcome with utter terror.
I laughed at her misery.
Then, contempuously, I removed my blade from the sheath. I put the point under
her chin, lifting her head. Once, when I had been bound at the pole, she had
pushed up my head, that she might better assess the features of a slave.  You
are a beauty, aren t you? I commented.
Her eyes looked at me with terror.
I dropped the point to her throat, and she turned away her head, shutting her
eyes. For a moment I let her feel the point in hte delicacy of her throat,
then
I dropped the blade and slashed the binding fiber that fastened her wrists
together about the prow.
She fell to the foredeck, on her hands and knees.
She struggled to her feet, half crouching, half mad with fear, and the pain of
being bound at the prow.
With the point of my blade I pointed to the deck.
She shook her head, and turned, and ran to the rail, and held it, looking
over.
A huge tharlarion, seeing the image on the water, half rose from the marsh,
jaws clashingin, and then dropped back into the water. Two or three more
tharlarion then churned there beneath her.
She threw back her head and screamed.
She turned to face me, shaking her head.
The tip of my blade still pointed inexorably to a place on the deck.
 Please! she wept.
The blade did not move.
She came and stood before me, and then dropped ot her knees, resting back on
her heels. She lowered her head and extended her arms, wrists crossed, the
submission of the Gorean female. I did not immediately bind her, but walked
about her, examining her as prize. I had not hitherto understood her as so
beautiful, and desirable. At last, after I had well stisfied myself as to her
quality, I took a bit of binding fiber that had fastened her ankles at the
prow, and lashed her wrists together.
She raised her head and looked up at me, her eyes searching mine, pleading.
I spat down in her face, and she lowered her head, shoulders shaking, sobbing.
I turned away and descended the foredeck, and returned between the slaves to
the steps below the tiller deck.
The girl followed me, unbidded. Once I turned, and saw that she wiped, with
the back of her right wrist, my spittal from her face. She lowered her bound
hands and stood on the planking, head down.
I took again my chair, that of the oar-master, in this domain.
The large, blond, gray-eyed girl and the shorter girl, dark-haired, who had
carried the net, knelt before the chair on the rowing deck.
My girl then knelt to one side, head down.
I surveyed the two girls, the blond one and the shorter one, and looked to
Thurnock and Clitus.
 Do you like them? I asked.
 Beauties! said Thurnock.  Beauties!
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The girls trembled.
 Yes, said Clitus,  though they are rence girls, they would bring a high
price.
 Please! said the blond girl.
I looked at Thurnock and Clitus.  They are yours. I said.
 Ha! cried Turnock. And then he seized up a length of binding fiber.
 Submit! she boomed at the large, blond girl and, terrified, almost leaping,
she lowered her head, thrusting forward her hands, wrists crossed. In an
instant, with peasant knots, Thurnock had lashed them together. Clitus bent
easily to pick up a length of binding fiber. He looked at the shorter girl, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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