Samira arrived in the city of Thentis. Her first task was to find a place to stay while she was here. She had been recommended to the Golden Bana. Once there, she found it adequate to her needs. The slave took her things to her room and set everything out for her. Once Samira had dismissed the inn slave, she took some time to relax and recuperate from her long journey. She knew she had a more difficult task ahead of her.
She stopped to have a meal of vulo, cheese and black bread at the Tavern, Lar-Torvis. Once she was satisfied she found one of the attendants. He greeted her cordially. "Tal Lady."
"Tal." She responded, her heart suddenly leaping for her throat. "I am looking for a man. One of the black caste." She saw the attendant frown. "Pah-Kur is his name."
The mention of Pah-Kur's name caused the second passing attendant to stop and stare. Both of them looked at her like she was crazy. "Lady, are you sure?"
She nods. "I am. I need to speak to him."
The first attendant paused and then nodded. "He is the First Sword of Thentis, Lady. You can find him in the Administrative House."
"Very good. Could you tell me how to get there?" Samira was glad for the heavy concealing veils. They hid her surprise and her blush. More than once, she had thought of the Veils of Concealment as type of bondage, allowing herself to relax into their restraining embrace.
The two attendants looked at each other again. Finally, the second called a slave over. "Show the Lady to the Administrative House. Then return here." Then he walked away, mentally washing his hands of the situation.
Samira followed the yellow silk clad slave as she lead the way through the city of Thentis. The slave, Dina, was a pleasant girl, pointing out various shops of interest. Samira barely listened as thought about the last time she sought out Pah-Kur.
... I looked around the great city of Turia as I heeled to my Tuchuk 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 Yad, who was now known as Pah-Kur, 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 Yad for my Master and the dangerous man who traveled with us. They had no idea what Yad looked like. They were using me as a blood hound.
"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 did not 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. ...
"Here we are, Mistress. The Administrative House of Thentis." Dina told her, interrupting her thoughts.
Samira inclined her head to the slave. "Return to your duties." She watched as the slave turned and hurried back to the Tavern, Lar-Torvis. Refusing to let her nervousness show, she walked into the Administrative House.
The Administrative House was large with many people of the various castes bustling to and fro. She walked up to the attendant on duty. "Tal."
The man glanced up from his paperwork. "Tal Lady."
"I'm here to see Pah-Kur." She was proud that her voice did not quiver or shake.
The man looked at her and assessed her fine veils of concealment, the expensive bana she wore and her regal posture. "Yes, Lady. Who do I let him know is here to see him?"
"The Lady Samira. Scribe of Ar." She hoped that she looked cool, calm, a bit arrogant and beautiful. Free women, rich ones, walked the fine line of haughtiness and humility. The men enjoyed spirit while enjoying the submissive female. It was quite the trick to know when to be arrogant and when to be submissive. The goal, always, was to be pleasing.
The attendant snagged a passing slave. "Tell Pah-Kur, the Lady Samira is here to see him."
"Yes Master!" The slave responded and bolted for one of the hallways.
Within in a short time, the slave returned. "Master is ready to see you, Mistress."
Samira inclined her head and followed the gray-clad slave. Vaguely, she wondered what it would be like to owned by the state rather than an inn or one man. Her musings were postponed by their arrival at a door. She dismissed the slave and knocked.
"Come in." Called a familiar male voice from her past.
She walked in, stomach doing flip-flops. 'Will he even recognize me?' She wondered. "Tal." She murmured.
Pah-Kur stood and bowed. "Tal Lady." He gestured for her to sit on some furs.
As Samira moved to the furs and knelt in the manner of a free woman, she examined the assassin. He looked the same, perhaps a bit more lines. A handsome man with dark hair and strikingly blue eyes, all in black, wearing a black leather kilt. She could see at least two quivas on him and figured that he had several more hidden on his body and about the room.
"Anara, sul-paga for myself. Ka-la-na for the Mistress." He settled himself on the furs, a respectable distance across from her.
Samira watched as a dark haired, olive-skinned slave in red silks appeared to serve them. She was very graceful and happy in her service to Pah-Kur. Samira remembered Shanna, her once chain sister and heartsister with a fond thought. Then wondered what happened to Shyone, the blond slave she had last seen Pah-Kur with. She supposed it did not matter, really. A slave was a slave.
Pah-Kur dismissed the slave who disappeared into the back, through a door. Then, he turned his penetrating gaze to her. He was silent as he boldly examined the free woman before him. Finally, he spoke. "You looked better in the black and gold kajir."
Her heart leapt to her throat. He knew who she was! Part of her wanted to immediately submit herself to this man who once was her master on Earth and on Gor. Part of her wanted to claw his eyes out for selling her. Part her remained calm. "Be that as it may, I am a free woman now."
"That can be taken away with a quick yank of veils and a proper raping, Lady." His eyes bore into hers, daring her to deny him.
"Yes, but you will not do that." She looked him in the eye then dropped them to the expensive folds of cloth that she was smoothing. Realizing she was fidgeting, she stopped and looked at the assassin again.
His face had grown neutral. "Lady, I will do exactly as I please. No more. No less."
She looked to him, resisted the urge to throw herself at his feet, and whispered. "I know."
He took a drink of the sul-paga. "What do you want, Lady? Why have you come to see me?"
She gathered her thoughts while slipping the bowl under her veils to sip at the sweet wine. "My Free Companion was assassinated. I want to know why and by whom."
"Why come to me, Lady?" He settled back comfortably.
"You are Pah-Kur. Master Assassin. You are of the upper ranks. Either you already know or you can find out." She was still raw inside at the recent loss of her Free Companion. five months after he had taken her under his wing, he had presented her with a contract to look at. A Free Companion contract. She had noticed that he had been growing kinder, gentler to her in the past few months. And, in truth, she had loved him for a long time. A month later, they celebrated their Free Companionship with his family who were pleased with his selection of free companion. They looked forward to an heir. It had been a very happy, idyllic six months. Now, it was all gone. It made her so angry.
Pah-Kur looked at her for a long moment. "I cannot tell you who hired the assassin or why."
She grit her teeth, hiding her disappointment. "Why not?"
"It is against the Codes. Do not question me, Lady." He warned her. "I do not answer to any female."
The growl in his voice made her flinch. "I'm sorry. Please. This is very important to me." She thought for a moment. "Can I hire you to find out find out who did and why? And then to kill him? Please. I have money..." She inwardly cringed at the plea in her voice.
He was silent for a long moment. "I will have to think about this." He stood. "Where are you staying?"
Her heart leapt in hope. "At the Golden Bana."
He nodded. "I will contact you, Lady."
It was a clear dismissal. She stood with a fluid grace. "Thank you, Pah-Kur."
"Call me, Pah." He watched her.
She smiled behind her veils. "I wish you well, Pah."
"I wish you well, Lady Samira."
She turned and walked out the door. Curiously, she felt both elated and sad. All she could do for the moment was return to the Golden Bana, work on her stories and wait to hear from Pah-Kur.
Continue on to: The Storyteller's Tale, Part 3 - The Silk Merchant