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most decorous dance, slowly and gracefully lifting their arms and turning,
facing first one side and then the other. In their hands they held baskets of
flower petals. The dance was the sort that free maidens of a city might
perform to honor and welcome visiting dignitaries, or the ambassador and his
entourage, of a foreign city. Had their gowns not been sleeveless, and had
they not been barefoot, and had their throats not been locked in collars, one
might have mistaken them for free women. I
could smell viands, too, cooking, the delicious odors of them emanating from
the holding. A feast was being prepared.
I did not see either the slave, Beverly, or the slave, Florence, among them.
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Doubtless they, like many of the other slaves, were within the holding,
preparing, under whips, the feast for their masters. I regarded the slaves.
Even in such gowns and in the performance of movements so decorous I found
them maddeningly exciting. How excruciatingly beauti. ful and desirable are
women! How difficult it is even to look upon them and not scream with desire.
One could scarcely conceive of what such women would be later at the feast
when, stripped or clad in rags, or perhaps insulted with a bit of silk,
perhaps tied about their left ankle, they must, in the full exposure of their
slavery, present themselves before strong men. I did not think their dances
then would be so dec.
orous, but would be such as to manifest the full sexual needs of women, under
the command of men.
I could conceive of them crawling on their knees, if so commanded, serving. I
could conceive of them, as I had seen them at other Gorean feasts, their
bodies stained with food and drink, caught by
the hair, thrown on the low tables and raped by masters, and then raped again.
They were naught but slaves. There was no service, pleasure or intimacy so
delicious, so profound, so prosaic or so unexpected, that they must not
render, and swiftly, at the merest whim of a master. They were, after all,
naught but slaves.
I looked away from the girls. The door leading within the holding, and the
walls, must be taken, swiftly.
The Tuka now drew alongside the walk. Mooring lines were now made fast. Miles
of Vonda made ready to disem. bark. Kliomenes waited to greet him. The girls
had now stopped dancing. In their left arms they cradled the baskets of flower
petals. With their right hands they reached into the baskets of petals, to
cast them on the walk, in the path of Miles of Vonda and of the men
disembarking from the Tuka. The symbolism of the casting of such petals is
perhaps rea. sonably clear. Feminine, and soft and beautiful, they are cast
before the tread of men. Is the token in this not obvious? Men are the
masters, the conquerors and victors. Beneath their feet, theirs, surrendered,
lie the petals of flowers. In this we may see a lovely gesture, one of both
welcome and submission, and one in which the order of nature is beautifully
and sensitively acknowledged. But, of course, there are many ways in which the
order of nature may be acknowledged. Another is that in which the woman, naked
and collared, branded, under a man's whip, writhes at his feet to the beating
of drums.
"Welcome to the Masters," sang the girls.
Miles of Vonda stepped upon the rail of the Tuka and he, and other men, leaped
to the walk.
"Welcome to the Masters. Welcome to the Masters, all!" sang the girls, casting
their petals on the walk before the men emerging from the Tuka.
I saw Kliomenes seizing the hand of Miles of Vonda. Aemilianus and his men
must move to the door. The halls must be taken.
"All is yours," sang the girls, "and we are of the all. Welcome, Masters,
all!"
The Tina drew alongside the walk. We cast out our mooring lines. Scarcely were
they fast when Callimachus, followed by myself, and others, leaped over the
rail. Callimachus, and his men, must seize the walls.
"Welcome, Masters, welcome, all!" sang the girls.
Aemilianus, followed by men, moved swiftly, past startled pirates, toward the
iron door.
"Hold, hold there!" cried Kliomenes, suddenly. He had seen Callimachus and
myself. "There are spies among you!" he cried. Then the sword of Miles of
Vonda was at his throat. "Order your men to throw down their arms!" said Miles
of Vonda. My sword then, too, threatened him, at his belly. The arms of
Kliomenes were pinned behind him by two men. Slave girls screamed. Baskets of
petals fell to the walk. They shrank back against the wall, armed men moving
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past them. "Throw down your arms," called Miles of Vonda to the pirates on the
walk, "or you are dead men:' "Throw down your arms!" called Kliomenes,
hoarsely. We saw Aemilianus, followed by a file of men, thrust through the
iron door. Beyond it, almost instantly, we heard shouts, and then some
swordplay,- and running feet. Callimachus, followed by his file of men, raced
up the steps toward the walls. I saw two pirates, cut from the steps, fall
twisting and striking against stone to the sea yard below. A pirate leapt past
me and fled down the walk. I pursued him. Then ahead of him another ship was
at the walk's edge.
"The Tais!" cried the pirate. Men leapt from her rail, ahead of him. He threw
down his sword.
I moved past him, through the men of the Tais, toward the wall. No pirates
must escape. I raced toward the wall's height. Swordplay there was sharp. I
cut one man from the wall. I thrust a man through who was climbing through an
opening in the parapet. I cut my way through men and swords.
I saw, to my alarm, pirates in the water, in the sea yard, swimming toward the
gate. I forced my way into the west gate tower. I struck the sword from the
hand of the pirate within and spun him about, seizing him by the neck. I
thrust him toward the interior balcony, that opening into the chamber of the
windlass.
"Order the lowering of the gate, the plunging lowering of the gate!" I said.
"Lower the gate,"
he cried. "Loose the gatel Loose the gate!" Cries of dismay rose from the
water below, within the sea yard. With a rattling thunder of chain and iron
the huge gate splashed downward into the water, its bars entering and
anchoring themselves in their deep, subsurface sockets.
"We surrender!" called the pirates on the wall. Swords were flung down. I put
my prisoner with the rest. From the wall's height I could see the walk near
the holding crowded with our men, emerged from the holds of the Tuka and Tina.
The fleet of Policrates, as I knew, some forty ships, was abroad, to prevent
reinforcements from the eastern towns, should they appear, from proceeding
westward to assist at the defense of the chain. Accordingly, within the
fortress, under the command of Kliomenes, only' a small force had been left,
some two hundred to two hundred and fifty men.
These would have been sufficient to hold the fortress against a significant
attack, but, once the enemy, in numbers, as we were, were within, the defense
of the holding would be a lost cause.
From the wall, looking down and across the sea yard, Callimachus and I saw
Aemilianus emerging from the holding. He looked upward, toward the wall. He
lifted his bloody sword into the air.
"We have won," said Callimachus.
"This battle," I said.
"Yes," he said.
We would not raise over the holding of Policrates the flags of Port Cos, or of
Victoria, or of
Ar's Station.
XI
MILES OF VONDA AND I OBSERVE
SLAVES, UTILIZING THE SCREENED
BALCONY ABOVE THE CENTRAL
SLAVE QUARTERS
"Would you care to join me, my friend, Miles of Vonda?" I asked.
"Yes," said he.
It was the night of our victory, that in which we had taken the holding. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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