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shoulders, to better display them, fastened them tightly about her throat. I then set
a large mirror across the room from her, that she might see how beautiful she was.
Do not struggle overmuch, I warned her, or, when your men come, they will
find you stripped to the thighs.
I could not make out what she said, but it is perhaps just as well.
Perhaps I shall return someday, I said, to make you a slave.
She squirmed in the cords, writhing, enraged, then stopped suddenly, furious; in
another move she would have stripped herself.
I blew her a kiss, in the Gorean fashion, brushing the kiss with my fingertips
towards her.
Her eyes were wild over the gag, furious, enraged.
Perhaps I would return someday and make her a slave. I thought that she would
make a pleasing slave girl.
I shut the door upon her.
I made my way, swiftly, through the palace, recalling the way from my being
conducted earlier to the boudoir of this kasbah s chieftainess, the much-feared
Tarna.
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It was late and I encountered few guards. The sand veil was high about my face, as
though I were a messenger incognito. The garments were sufficient to permit me
passage.
At the outer door of the seraglio I demanded entrance, to fetch the slave, Hassan,
to the quarters of Tarna.
I was admitted. At the inner door, I was challenged.
I have this letter of passage, I said, reaching into my cloak. The letter of passage
was the back of my hand, flying up and to the right, while, at the same time, with
my left fist, I drove into the diaphragm of the man on my left. He could make no
sound, doubled up. Before the man on my right could recover, or unsheathe his
weapon, I had struck him unconscious; I then, at my leisure, did the same with the
other fellow. I gagged and tied both of them.
I then swung open the inner door to the seraglio.
Greetings, said Hassan.
Greetings, I said.
Did all go well? he asked.
Yes, I said. Is all in order here? I asked.
It seems so, he said.
I heard the muffled sounds of the two seraglio mistresses, Lana and she in whose
charge had been the oils of the bath.
They had been bound and gagged with strips of their white garments. They stood,
naked, each backed against one of the slender, lofty, cool marble pillars which
supported the roof of the seraglio; their wrists were fastened behind them, about
the pillars. Each uttered tiny sounds of protest; their eyes were wild over their
gags.
There was a reddish stain down the interior of the left thigh of the one girl, she
who had handled the oils of the bath.
She was virginal, I remarked.
Yes, said Hassan.
What of this one? I asked Hassan, indicating Lana.
I tested her, said Hassan. She, too, is virginal. I left her for you.
Lana shrank back against the pillar.
What have we here? I asked. I noted one silken fellow, he with the ruby
necklace, trying furtively to slip about the side of the room to the door.
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He broke into a run, but I managed to trip him, and Hassan leaped upon him and
carried him, squirming, to the bath. We will be beaten, whimpered the fellow.
Give the alarm! he shouted to his fellow males. Two or three stood about, but
they did not cry out. Hassan took the fellow and threw him on his belly by the bath
and held his head under water, for about an Ehn. When he pulled the fellow s head
up, he said to him, You might be drowned in the bath. Such accidents can
happen. Then he thrust his head again under the water. When he pulled it up the
second time the fellow cried out for mercy. Hassan threw him to two of the other
males. If be attempts to give the alarm, said Hassan, drown him. Very well,
said one of the other fellows. I gathered there was little lost affection for the
fellow in the ruby necklace in the seraglio of Tarna. He was, I had learned, a weak
fellow, an informer, one constantly alert to opportunities to ingratiate himself with
the mistress who despised him, one of her most obsequious pets, held in contempt
by all. You may blame his drowning on us, of course, said Hassan. Naturally,
said one of the silken fellows. The fellow in the ruby necklace shuddered. I will
be silent, he said. You will be silent, or be silenced, said one of the fellows.
Remember, said another, whatever happens, eventually, you will be put back
with us. I will remember, said the fellow. I will do as you wish.
Take him to an alcove, I said. Bind and gag him. Then, too, retire to your
alcoves.
Very well, they said, retiring, taking with them the stumbling, miserable fellow
in the ruby necklace.
The seraglio, then, seemed empty, silent. We heard the torches crackle. I looked
again to Lana. She shrank back. She, the seraglio mistress,
unprotected, bound, gagged, helpless, was alone with us.
I left her for you, said Hassan.
Swiftly I untied her hands and then retied them, so that they were above her head
and behind it, fastened at the sides of the pillar. I then, lifting her, lowered her
gently to the tiles. She squirmed, helplessly. By the ankles I pulled her as far from
the pillar as the bonds on her wrists, fashioned by Hassan from strips from her
white, removed clothing, would permit. She lifted one knee. I thrust her knees
apart. She lifted her head, trying to put her gagged mouth against me. I saw pain in
her eyes. I pulled down the gag, for a moment, and let her free herself of the
wadding. I love you, Master, she whispered. I love you! I kissed her, thrust
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back the wadding, and regagged her.
I rose to my feet.
You have ruined her, I judge, said Hassan, as an effective mistress of the
seraglio.
The girl was trying to put her leg against me, reaching for me. I took her ankle,
and crouching, kissed it, on the top, and then pressed my lips to the bottom of her
foot, near the instep, then beneath and behind the shin, then again, twice, near the
bottom of the foot, at the instep.
I judged her responses, the movements of her eyes. Yes, I said, I expect so.
Lana lifted her body to me, helplessly. I will guarantee, my dear, I said to her,
that, hereafter, you will be given to men. I then, with her virgin blood, on her
belly, traced the Tahari slave mark. Seeing this, the mark of a free man s
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