“Know you not,” asked she, with sudden insolence and coldness, “that I am a free woman?”
I said nothing. “A retinue!” shouted one of the guards.
“There is a free woman with the retinue!” shouted another.
I heard Targo crying out. “Slaves out!”
I was thrilled. I had never seen a Gorean free woman.
Page 72
I watched the flat wagon rolling closer.
The woman sat regally on the curule chair, wrapped in resplendent, many-colored silks. Her raiment might have cost more than any three or four of us together were worth. She was, moreover, veiled.
“Do you dare look upon a free woman?” asked a guard. I not only dared, but I was eager to do so. But, nudged by his foot, as the wagon approached, I lowered my head to the grass, as did the other girls.
The wagon, and the retinue, stopped only a few feet opposite us.
I did not dare to raise my head.
. . .
“Lift your head, Child,” said a woman’s voice.
I did so.
She was no older than I, I am sure, but she addressed me as a child.
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. . .
I looked into her eyes. How steadily she regarded me, over her veil, her eyes mused. How beautiful she seemed. How splendid and fine! I could no longer meet her eyes.
“You may lower your head, Girl,” she said, not unkindly. Gratefully I put my head again, swiftly, to the grass.
. . .
When the wagon, and the retinue, had passed us, Targo straightened up. He had a strange expression on his face. He was pleased about something.
. . .
“Who was she?” asked the grizzled, one-eyed guard. “The Lady Rena of Lydius,” said Targo, “of the Builders.”
. . .
That night, at a stream, we stopped early to camp.
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. . .
Out of the darkness came two men, warriors. Between them, face-stripped, was a woman, stumbling. Her arms, over her resplendent robes, were bound to her sides with a broad leather strap. She was thrown to the feet of Targo.
. . .
“You were foolish to hire mercenaries to guard you,” said Targo.
“Please!” she cried.
I recognized her then. She was the woman with the retinue.
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“Dare you aspire to a free woman?” she demanded.
“No,” I said.
“Dare you aspire to your mistress, Slave?” she demanded.
“No,” I said, “no!”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“I am a slave,” I said. “Only a slave.”
“That is true,” she said. “You are only a slave.”
Raiders of Gor Book 6 Page 36


“I never thought,” Tab was saying, “that I would find a free woman of interest.” He had one arm about Midice.
“On a peasant holding,” said Thurnock, defensively, as though he must justify having freed Thura, “one can get much more work from a free woman!” He pounded the table. Thura wore talenders in her hair.
Raiders of Gor Book 6 Page 304


. . .
“Please!” wept the woman. I admitted to myself that she was beautiful.
“You have an admirer,” Targo told her, “a Captain of Tyros, who glimpsed you in Lydius last fall. He has contracted to buy you privately in Ar, to be taken to his pleasure gardens on Tyros. He will pay one hundred pieces of gold.”
Several of the girls gasped.
“Who?” asked the captive, plaintively.
“You will learn when you are sold to him,” said Targo. “Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajira,” said Targo. “You might be beaten for it.”
I remembered that the large man, on the planet Earth, had said to me this thing. I gathered that it was a Gorean saying.
The woman, distraught, shook her head.
“Think!” urged Targo. “Were you cruel to someone? Did you slight someone? Did you not grant someone the courtesy that was his due?”

                                                                          
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