... They were riding the skies together upon the back of a war tarn. The slave was his prize, stolen from the wily Tuchuks. He held her close to his body, protecting her from the rushing wind that threatened to tear them from the saddle of the great beast. She pressed closer, seeking his warmth and strength. Smiling as he entangled his fingers in her fire hair, he pulled her head back for a claiming kiss of his new treasure. After an eternity, the Master broke the kiss and whispered to her lips...
"GIRL!"
I jerked out of my daydream and slipped to my knees, trembling. How long had the Master been there? "Yes Master?" I asked, voice quavering.
"Where were you? I have been calling you for 5 ehn!" He sounded irritated.
"Forgive me Master. I was just getting some more water for the wagon. I had a little extra time and thought to put it to good use." I knew I was in trouble and would probably be whipped for not coming when called.
"I saw you, staring off into the sky. What were you thinking?" I squirmed, not really wanting to tell my Master that I dreamed of another. "Well?!" The Master demanded.
"I was... daydreaming. Of flying."
The Master narrowed his blue eyes at me. "And?" he growled as I hesitated again. Two steps and he was at my side, his hand wrapped in my hair, yanking my face up to him. He ignored my cry of pain. "Speak slave and tell me everything."
I quivered at the dangerously low tone of voice. "Yes Master. I was daydreaming of riding the skies with my Master on the back of war tarn. He had just stolen me from the camp ground. He was taking me back to his cylinder in Ar." I babbled at him for a moment, frightened.
"But, little barbarian... I am your Master. Why would I steal you from my own home?"
"I meant my real Master... from Urth." I swallowed hard at the thunder clouds that appeared in his face. I knew I had chosen my words poorly.
His grip tighten. "Your -real- Master, slave? And what am I?"
"Master, please! I just meant... the first man to Master me... I ... "
His grip loosen abruptly. "Tell me, little one.... could it be that you were daydreaming of... Devon?" He laughed at the shocked look on my face. "Yes. I know of him. You say his name in your sleep." I blushed bright, not knowing what to say. I did not know that I talked in my sleep. "Tell me of this Devon that haunts your dreams."
I looked at him. The Tuchuk Master was a crafty one. He was up to something. I knew this because he asked too casually. Perhaps it was new game to tease me. Well, I was his slave and would play along whether I wanted to or not. "He was a great man. A Master, even on Urth. Were he to come here, I know he would have been an Assassin... dark and dangerous.... perhaps an assassin to rival even the great Pa-Kur." I watched his face as I spoke and could not read the emotions in his eyes. That bothered me.
He let go of my hair and stood over me. "And you would submit to an Assassin?" His lip curled a little in distaste.
I knew Assassins were despised and feared but also held in a wary respect. "He was not an Assassin then... but yes, I would submit to him even if he were an Assassin." I had to be honest. My Master could almost always tell when I was lying... almost.
"I see." I knew I had displeased him by the look on his face. Then he shocked me again. "I know of a man named Devon ... it is said that he is from Urth and he -is- an Assassin. Perhaps I will take you him while we are at Turia for the Love War. Who knows." He shrugged.
"What?!" My heart leapt to my throat. "You know a Devon from Urth?" This shattered my world view. The thought that the Master of my heart, my Devon, was on Gor... made my head spin.
"Slave." He growled. "Do not forget yourself or your place."
I trembled at the anger in his voice and crawled low to his feet. Pressing my forehead to his boots, begging his forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive your slave. I was overcome. It won't happen again."
"Perhaps I may sell you to this Devon but for now, slave, you are my property and it seems I need to remind you of that fact." He reached down and grabbed me up, tossing me over his shoulder roughly. Slapping me in the ass twice, he laughed loud in an unusually good mood. "Yes, I shall remind you of it well this night.
Several days later, once we were set up outside the walls of Turia I broached the subject of Devon to my Master again. He angrily cuffed me and told me that I was not to speak of Devon again. I began to despair, thinking that my Master had tricked me, until a quiet man with a dangerous feel came to the wagon a few nights later.
Having sent away my chain sisters, my Master had me serve them both. This made me very nervous. Master had never done that before. I wondered what was happening as I knelt quietly, my eyes studying my palms.
"Tell me of Devon." The dangerous one said. I looked to my Master. He nodded for me to answer.
"The Devon of Urth that I knew?" I asked, just to be sure. I did not want to anger this one. As non-descript and unassuming as he seemed, his mere presence made my hackles rise.
"Yes kajira. Tell me what you remember of him. What does he look like?" The dangerous one sipped his wine. I noticed that he did not drink very much. Warning bells screamed in my mind.
"Well..." My mind raced. Perhaps this was a trick or maybe they wanted to be sure that the Devon I spoke of was the same Devon here. "He is about 200 centimeters... dark brown hair.... beard and a moustache." As I described the generalities of the man I once knew, I knew that the descriptions could be any number of Gorean men. I did not tell them of his tattoo that would clearly mark him. I decided that I was going to force them to take me to this Devon to identify him.
The dangerous man frowned and my Master pressed me. "Is that all, kajira? Can you tell us nothing more?"
"Master, please. It was a long time ago and anything else I would say, you would not understand."
My Master reached across and grabbed me painfully by the hair. "Tell us everything, slave or I will feed you to the sleen this night!"
I whimpered a little. I had never seen my Master so tense about anything before. "He has a East Coast accent, almost a New York one or Boston." I could have laughed at the quizzical looks on their faces, but with my Master's tight grip on my hair, I did not dare. "The way he speaks is distinctive." I tried to explain. Then I tried to speak Gorean with a New York accent.
My Master let me go, looking at me as I gasped a little, my head throbbing a little . The two men looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Do that again." He commanded me with a nudge of his foot. So, again, I attempted to speak Gorean with a New York accent. Both men howled with laughter. Even I had to smile. Then my Master looked at me. "Is there -anything- else about the Devon of Urth that you remember?"
"No Master. That is all that I can remember. It has been a while." I felt sad. Homesick suddenly for the first time in a long while. I still did not mention the tattoo.
The dangerous one pondered me over the rim of his goblet. I dropped my eyes. "Would you recognize him if you saw him?"
I looked up and smiled. "Yes Master. I would." Just thought of seeing him, lifted my spirits. "I would know him immediately. And he would know me."
Both men smiled at that. "Very good, little barbarian. You have done well." My Master patted my thigh.
I looked around the great city of Turia as I heeled to my Master. The thick, stiff message collar about my neck bothered me. It bothered me in a couple ways. First, it was uncomfortable. Second, I was to walk up to Devon and present myself with the message collar. The realization dawned on me as we walked through the bustling city. I was going to point out this Devon for my Master and the dangerous man. They had no idea what Devon looked like. They were using me as a blood hound. For some reason, that thought made my blood boil.
"Here we are." I was torn from my thoughts as we stopped in front of a tavern. The Wounded Tarn. It was seedy little hole in the wall. We were in a bad, rundown part of Turia. I didn't know Turia had slums... they do and we seemed to be in the heart of them. My heart raced and I felt mildly ill to my stomach. I looked around, wondering why we were here. I pressed close to my Master as we entered into the darkened room.
My Master was tall, almost nordic looking with light hair and dark blue eyes. Unusual for a Tuchuk. His Courage scar blazoned a trail across his face clearly marking him as Tuchuk. We stopped in the entrance of the room. Next to him, the dangerous man with his grey eyes, was scarcely seen in his non-descript plain features.
I kept my eyes to the floor, my face turned towards my Master. My heart hammered loud in my ears. I knew that most of the tavern had quieted and were looking at us. A Tuchuk in Turia is uncommon. My Master put his hand in my back and shoved me forward. "Deliever your message, slave!" He growled to me.
"Yes Master." I whispered. Then, as I stepped forward, one of the black caste brushed by me. He was stocky, light hair and brown eyes. There was a wicked scar running over his face to his neck. One glance into those dead eyes made me shiver. He took no notice of me. He was definitely not the one I knew from urth. His companion, one of the Merchant's caste, paused, sharp eyes that contrasted with his soft buddha features appraised me as if he would any gem or beast. I turned from him and heard his soft, almost girlish chuckle as they left the tavern.
I gathered my courage and pushed away my hope and fear. I was Tuchuk and would act it. If Devon was here, I would not betray that to my Master and the dangerous one. With a toss of my redgold mane, I lift my chin proudly as I let my bright green-blue eyes slowly pan the room. I started at one end and carefully searched each face. I know my Master and the dangerous one were watching me and my reactions to each person.
As my eyes roamed each face, I noted who was interested and who was not. Some turned from me, others leered. Some took more of an interest in my unusual Master, some only were mildly distracted from their own dealings. I paid a bit closer attention to the two who wore the black of the Assassin's Guild. The first one took little notice of me but I studied him as boldly as I could. Then, after examining a couple more tables, I came to the second Assassin.
My heart leapt to my throat while I kept my face impassive. I let my eyes glide over his face, searching for recognition. I studied him as boldly as I did the first assassin. For the briefest instant, our eyes locked and then I turned from him to carefully examine the next man over. Over and over, I examined each man in the tavern, forcing away the recognition. I know he saw me as he watched me idly. Several of the men watched me curious at my odd behavior. Finally, I turned to my Master.
"The man I knew as Devon from urth is not here, Master." Master frowned as the dangerous one stared at me. I looked to my Master for instruction, refusing to look at the dangerous one.
"Call out to him. Tell him you bring a message." The dangerous one quietly demanded. My Master nodded. The dangerous one was sure that Devon was here. I could feel it from him. He knew a lot more about what was going on than I did... and a lot more than my Master did, I was sure.
I turned and look to the tavern again, feeling scared and shaky. I cleared my throat and spoke loud. "This kajira has a message for Master Devon." No one moved. Almost everyone was looking at me. I looked back to my Master.
"Speak out in your barbaric tongue. Announce who you are and tell him you have a message!" I nodded. I noticed my Master was sweating now. Was it eagerness or fear?
I raised my voice, speaking English, looking over the tavern as I spoke. "Master Devon, it is I, your Eden. Remember me as you would the Lady of the Gallows... remember my scent of cyanide. I have a message for you." Several men looked annoyed at this point. I did not care. I laced my words with as much warning as I dared.
The dangerous one murmured to Master who looked at me. "What is a Gallows?"
I swallowed hard. "It is flower from urth." I lied, praying that he would believe me.
"And this cy-an-nide?"
I lied again, lowering my eyes. "It was the name of the perfume I used to wear. He knows the scent well." Master reached out and grabbed my face forcing me to look at him. A movement and a sound distracted both of us.
The first assassin had thumped his bowl of paga to the table and rose, looking at us. "I am Devon." He declared. I thought I would die. I looked at this assassin, trying to control my rolling emotions. Was it a coincidence? That my Devon of earth was here but under another name and this was the Devon that my Master spoke of? I refuse to look to my Devon, I know he saw me and I still would not betray him. I silently prayed that he recognized me.
I turned to Master for instructions. "Deliver your message, kajira!" I nodded and silently moved to the Master who had named himself Devon. I kept my eyes lowered and knelt before him on the dirty floor, in the position of a pleasure slave. Then, I pulled my hair from my neck and gave him access to the leather message collar.
Once he removed it, I knelt tall, chin raised to show my Master's collar. I silently waited to see what would happen next. I was definitely nervous. It felt like a setup to me. Suddenly, the assassin thrust a paper at me. "Can you read, slave?"
I took the paper. It was in English. "Yes Master."
"Then do so, aloud." He commanded of me.
I obeyed, automatically reading it aloud in English. "Greetings Devon. We have long searched for you. We wish to hire your sword. As a token of good faith, the slave before you is a gift." My voice trailed off in a whisper as I threw a frantic look over my shoulder... but my Master and the dangerous one were not to be seen.
"In Gorean, slave." I swallowed hard at the Master's cold voice. I reread it to him in Gorean, my voice quivering at the sentence. Glancing up to him, I saw the slow smile that spread across his face. Several of the nearer men had taken an interest in this and laughed at my trembling. He held up the key to my collar and laughed as he pocketed it. "Lesha!" he commanded.
I jerked as if struck and then rose before him. Keeping my eyes lowered as I stood, my feet apart and my wrists crossed behind my back. I tried to control my fear as I snapped my head to my left, baring my collar for the leash. Raising my eyes, I found myself looking at my Devon. Our eyes touched once more, brief and intense before I lowered them again. The assassin hooked a leash to my collar and then startled me by placing a hood over my head. I heard the laughter as I gasped and then was led off, stumbling after the assassin.
I was dumped to some furs and then felt myself bound by the neck to a slave ring with about 2 feet of play. He bound my wrists behind me for good measure. Idly, he let his hands push aside the kalmar of the kajir I wore and caress over my breasts. "Very nice." He commented. "You and I will speak more when my business is done." I heard him rise go to the door. I felt him pause. "Did you know you were about to be given away, slave?"
"No Master." I whispered. It was hot in the hood. I heard him chuckle softly, the sound sending shivers up my spine as he closed the door. I slumped against the rough wall.
I trembled there, mind swirling in chaos... memories and fear. Finally, I latched onto the memory of that fateful day with Devon. It was last day she had seen him and was forever etched into her memory... less than a week later, she was kidnapped and taken to Gor.
... She was doing the warm up katas for her Tao Kwon Do class. It looked like she was the only student to show up tonight. Not surprising. There was a big Frat party for Lambda Lambda Lambda. She was not interested in that. A bunch of drunken frat boys pawing her....
She was suddenly aware that her Sensei had walked in. She did not let that stop her warm up. He was definitely a man. Not like those Frat boys. There was a very masculine presence to him. Her heart pounded a bit faster. She had joined his psychology class simply because he was the professor. Mentally laughing, she could finally admit her crush on her professor and Sensei. He seemed particularly interested in her thesis paper: "Technology vs. Nature, The Disruption of the Natural Laws of Dominance."
"Your mind is wandering, girl." Sensei commented as she finished up her warm ups. This brought a flush to her cheeks. She turned and bowed respectfully to him.
"Greetings Sensei."
He looked her over. "Today, well will work on knife attack, disarm and counter attack."
She smiled. It was one of her favorite exercises. Very intense when they really got into it... almost a rhythm of striking with the knife, blocking, disarming and counter striking with the knife. Sometimes, the fight would go on for 45 minutes. "Yes Sensei." She went to her corner and bowed.
Her Sensei had immediately set upon her with a series of feints and strikes. She blocked well, letting only one or two blows to land. "I enjoyed your paper, girl. It was well written. But, tell me, do you truely believe what you wrote about?"
Sensei was always trying to distract her during the exercises by talking to her, making her think intellectually while she fought against him physically. "Yes, I do." She feinted to his left. "If this were a barbaric society, it would be a lot more male dominant because of the physical strength factor...." She circled him. "But, as technology has made much of man's physical strength unneccessary..." She blocked his strike. "The woman and the intellectual man have both defied Natures Law and become dominant over the strong man."
"Give me an example." He easily disarmed her, taking the knife from her hand. She fought to regain her form as she thought about the answer.
"The construction worker, the builder is looked down upon." She offensively struck at him, distracting him. "Body building is a sport, not a neccessity."
He captured her wrist and brought her to the mat. "And what of woman's natural desire to submit to man?"
She kicked him, freeing herself and rolling away. "That is chauvantistic!" She readied herself, panting... envying his stamina.
"You are contradicting yourself, girl." He circled her, eyes predatory. "Did you not say, that in nature, the male is dominant?" She nodded, circling away from him. "And therefore, that leads one to say the female is naturally submissive. That it is within her blood, so to speak."
She lifted her chin proudly, "Perhaps, in nature and without technology. But, here and now that submissiveness has been bred out of the female. There is no need for it." She rushed him, feinting and striking. He blocked her strikes, pressing his offensive viciously until she was backpedaling and defensive only. He swept her feet out from under her, following her down as she fell. He pinned her to the floor, panting softly.
"Can you tell me that you do not wish to submit to me now?" He growled to her. She swallowed hard and struggled against him, not answering. "You can't, can you. You feel it. As strong as you are. As smart as you are. You still wish to submit to a man." His voice whispered through her mind.
"Not just any man!" she snarled before she could stop herself. She struggled fiercely against the pin, blushing in her anger and fear. He had touched a secret part of her with his words.
He let her struggle until she came to the conclusion that she was helpless and stopped struggling. "Do you yield?"
She slapped the mat. "Yes. I yield." She knelt up and panted there as he let her go and stepped a few feet back. "You always do that to me. Distract me with words so you can win." She feigned a nonchalance that she did not feel.
He looked at her, eyes darkening. "You doubt that I could best you otherwise?"
She shivered. "No. That's not what I meant, Sensei."
He turned from her. "Not just any man, hmm? Then who do you want to submit to, girl?"
She blushed bright. She had hoped he had forgotten that. "Nothing. Forget that." She rose and got her towel to wipe away the sweat. She refused to look at him. She mentally cursed herself for allowing that slip.
He walked up to her, very close and whispered. "Can you look at me and tell me that you do not wish to submit to me?" He lifted her chin to him when she would not look at him.
"No." She whispered softly and saw him smile.
"Cross your wrists before you."
"What?"
"Do it!" he commanded. When she did, he grabbed her crossed wrists in one hand and pushed her to the wall, pinning her wrists above her. His eyes locked to hers, he reached down and pulled the sash from her gi and then bound her wrists with it.
She moaned softly at the rush of arousal of the simple act. She knew if she tried, she could get free. But right now, that was the last thing on her mind. Her eyes were captured by his as he opened up the tunic of her tunic, caressing her heated flesh. Then he flipped her around, pressing her body to the wall with his. His hand quickly untied the drawstring to her pants, pushing them down her body.
"La Kajira."
She blinked. "What?"
"Say it. 'La Kajira.'" She felt his hand caressing as he striped away her panties and began to initimately explore her body.
"La Kajira." She repeated. Her mouth was dry. He was touching her so roughly... so intimately. As if it was his right. "What is that? It sounds Spanish."
"I means, 'I am a slave.'" He held her tightly, knowing she would fight it.
She jerked. "No! I'm not a slave!" She started to struggle against the man pressing her to the wall.
"You are a slave." He whispered into her ear. "And you will submit to me. I will make you a true female, kajira. When you submit, you will find freedom for the first time." He held her tight, one hand still exploring her as he listened to her frightened, aroused gasps. "Say it, kajira and submit to me. Listen to your heart." He held her pressed to the wall until she stopped her struggles. His hand continued to torment and please her body. "Do you yield to me, kajira?"
"Yes." She whispered, her urges overwhelming her protests. "I yield."
"Then say it." He demanded.
"La kajira." She whispered.
"Again."
"La kajira."
"Good girl. Very good." He turned her from the wall and kissed her gently. He felt her trembling, scared of what he was doing to her. "You are so beautiful." He led her to the mat and made her kneel there. Then he unbound her wrists and striped off the rest of her clothing until she knelt there, naked before him. She could leave at this point. He would not stop her, but he knew she wanted to be here. He paused, looking down at her. "I will make you my Eden on this hell called Earth." She shivered, looking up at him. "I own you, Eden, body and soul."
"What do you mean?" She was confused and a bit embarassed
"Shhhhh." he gently admonished her. "You will learn soon enough. I will teach you what it is to be a kajira." Then he laid her back on the mat. "Tonight, you will be a complete female for the first time." He kissed her hard and took her as no man had ever taken her before.....
Shouts jerked her from her revery. She could hear steel on steel and the sounds of fighting out in the tavern. She pulled at her shackles, but the assassin had bound her fast. She could only listen as the fight in the tavern continued on. Finally, all was silent. That was almost worse than the sounds of the fight. She waited, straining to hear anything. After a bit, she stopped listening, hoping that she was not forgotten here. What horrible way to die, bound helpless, to die of thirst. No. Devon had seen her. He would come for her. He had to. She fought off the fear and tried to relax.
Suddenly, the door slammed open, causing Eden to jerk. She held her breath, listening to the person who entered the room.....
The silence weighed heavy on her. She knew the person was studying her. She was trembling hard, adrenaline rushing through her body. She gasped loud as the hood was suddenly yanked from her head. Taking a deep breath of the cool air, she stared up at the Master, transfixed.
It was Devon. The Master who had awakened her kajira soul. All the pent up emotions came flooding back, revealed in the silent tears that sprang to her eyes. She looked down, lowering her eyes respectfully.... only have them drawn back up to his face again. He was different that the man she knew on earth. His face was harder. There was a coldness about him. He was a Killer. There was no doubt. His eyes bore into hers.
"Kajira." He said.
That was all he had to said. His voice commanded her. She would do anything for this Master. Anything at all. She leaned forward as far as the chain would allow and laid her head upon his booted foot, whispering. "Master."
With a single, swift motion, he entangled his fingers into her hair and yanked her up to look at her face. His eyes searched hers as she trembled in his grasp. He spoke in English. "It is you, isn't it. I had wondered what happened to you."
"Yes Master, it's me, your Eden." Joy and fear rolled within her. He still had not shown any emotion. He let go of her and stepped back looking her over.
"My brother is dead and it appears to be your fault, kajira." His voice was hard and cold, like chipped ice. "What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself."
I trembled hard, wondering if now I was going to die. Quickly, words stumbling over each other, I told him of the dangerous man, my Master, everything I could remember from beginning to end. He questioned me on several points, grilling me harshly. I was frightened of this Devon, but I knew I belonged to him.
Finally, he asked no more questions. He took a bloodied piece of paper out of his tunic and looked at it. Then he held up the key to my collar. "It seems I own you now, kajira."
"Yes Master." The fear grew. What would he do now? Kill me? Sell me? Keep me? My heart raced at the thought.
He looked at me for a long moment, then released me from the slave ring. "Lesha!" he commanded and I leapt to my feet on trembling legs and snapped my head to the left. He fastened a leash to my collar and then commanded me to heel. I moved immediately behind him; two steps back, one step to the left.
He lead me from the back room into the main room of The Wounded Tarn. To my horror, there were dead bodies everywhere. The serving slaves were starting to clean up the mess. I did not envy them. The few men who were still around, quickly looked away as we walked through. No one said a word. No one tried to stop us. At the door, Master stopped and turned. He flipped a heavy gold coin to the man behind the bar. The man caught it with a deft flick of his hand and pocketed it silently. Then we walked out onto the streets of Turia.
I finally screwed up the courage to speak as we paused, Masters dark eyes looking around. "Master? Where are we going?" I asked uncertainly. I did not know how he would respond. I could not read him at all. His eyes flicked to me and then back to the streets. He ignored my question and started walking. The crowd gave us a wide berth and I caught more than one pitying glance in my direction.
When we paused again, I raised my voice a little louder. "Please Master, where are we going?" This time he glared at me and I dropped my eyes.
"We are going to Ar. Be silent until I tell you otherwise, Eden." he growled at me and then turned on his heel and strode off. I immediately followed, wondering what was awaiting us in the great city of Ar.
To be continued...