"But if the Mistress is strong," said the first, "what has she to fear?"

"One who is stronger than she," said the second.

"I am stronger than any man," said the first.

"But what if you should meet your Master?" asked the second.

The first one was silent then for a moment. Then she spoke. "I would love him and serve him, helplessly," she said.

"Beautiful Mistresses," I said, "can you tell me in what city I am?"

"Be silent, Slave," said the first woman.

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

"Curiosity is not becoming in a Kajirus," said the second.

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Forgive me, Mistresses."

They turned away, their market baskets on their arms. The butt of the whip of Prodicus suddenly struck twice at the side of the box, sharply. I jerked away from the sound, crying out, startled, frightened. "Be silent in there, Slave," he said, "or you will be well beaten."

"Yes, Master," I said. "Forgive me, Master."

I then felt the slave box, on the rings and poles, again being lifted. I pressed my face again to the perforations. I saw the brightly colored robes and tunics of the people. The square was crowded. I saw market stalls and heard the cries of vendors hawking their goods. I smelled fresh vegetables and roasting meat. The day was bright. The air was clear. On a cement dais, at one side of the square, I saw a man selling naked, chained slave girls. They were very beautiful, and piteous, in their collars and chains. I thought of Miss Beverly Henderson. How lovely she had been. I scarcely dared to conjecture what tragic fate might have befallen her on this rude world.

"Make way," called Prodicus. "Make way for goods bound for the market of Tima!"

The door of the slave box, behind me, was opened, and swung down. At the same time I was thrust forward in the box and my ankles were seized. I was dragged backwards out of the box on my belly. Four men held me. Prodicus jammed the key into the lock on the back of my collar and, in an instant, had opened the collar, which he jerked from my throat. Almost at the same time another man closed another collar about my throat and snapped it shut. I then wore the collar of the House of Tima. I saw a woman, stern and cruel, in black leather, with leather wristlets, sign a paper. Prodicus placed the paper in his tunic. Two men lifted me and flung me to my knees on the cement flooring of the large room. The door, or gate, to the slave box was swung up and shut, the bolts thrown in place. Prodicus gestured to the carrying slaves and they set their poles again through the rings and, in moments, they, carrying the box, preceded by Prodicus, had exited through an iron door.

I felt the woman's whip under my chin. It pushed my head up.

"Greetings, Pretty Slave," she said.

"Greetings, Mistress," I said.

"I am Tima," she said. "I am Mistress here"

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

Then she turned to the men about her, strong fellows, fit for keeping order in slave pens.

"Whip him," she said. "Then clean and groom him. Then send him to my chamber."

"Yes, Lady Tima," said one of them.

I was lifted to my feet and, two men holding my arms, was dragged stumbling from her presence.

"Kneel here," said the man, indicating a position before the heavy door, of iron, in the dark corridor. "When we have left," he said, "make your presence known."

"Yes, Master," I said, miserably. I had not been in the House of Tima more than a few Elm before I had been bound at a whipping ring, suspended over my head, and, dangling, feet tethered to a second ring, well lashed. I had then been conducted to a small, low-ceilinged cell in which I was locked. I lay there, alone, miserable, I conjecture, for some Ahn. Then a man brought a pan of water and a bowl of moistened slave gruel. I was not hungry but I was ordered to eat and, kneeling, observed, did so. When I had fed to his satisfaction he made me precede him to a warm, humid chamber. In that place there were sunken baths, cisterns of water, and vessels of heating water. Too, there were strigils, towels and oils. He removed my collar and ordered me into the bath. It was uncomfortably hot but I dared not object. Gorean masters tend not to be tolerant of the feelings of slaves. An enslaved male of Earth, fool that I was, I did not even know how to take a bath. Laughing, he explained to me the use of the strigils, the rinsings and oils. Frightened though I was, I was pleased, in the lengthy process of the bath, which tends for Goreans to be a pleasant experience, and is often a social one, at the public baths, to rid myself of the stink of the pens. I had then been scented, with the colognes and perfumes thought suitable for certain types of male slaves. I was then given a white, silken tunic. "Kneel," he then said. I knelt, and again he fastened me in my collar. We left the chamber. I was then made to lead the way through the halls of the House of Tima, until we arrived at the entrance to a long, dark corridor. This entrance was protected by two guardsmen, armed with spears and swords. "Continue forward, Slave," said the man. "Yes, Master," I said. I continued to walk forward and the two guards, not speaking, fell into step behind us. The corridor was long, and branching. We walked for some Ehn. I could feel the carpeting beneath my bare feet. "Turn left," said the man. We continued to walk. I was aware of the steel locked on my neck, the silk on my body. "Turn right," he said. We continued on for another Elm. "Stop here," he said. We stood before a heavy, iron door.

"Shall we wait?" asked one of the guards.

"It will not be necessary," said the man. "This is a man from the planet Earth."

The guards nodded, understanding.

"Kneel here," said the man, indicating a position before the heavy door, of iron, in the dark corridor. "When we have left," he said, "make your presence known."

"Yes, Master," I said, miserably.

He then turned and left, followed by the two guards. They did not look back.

I knelt by the door, miserably. I lifted my hand to knock at the door, but then my hand fell. I feared to knock. I put down my head, miserable. After I had been locked in the cell, only one man, for all practical purposes, had controlled me. He had fed me, and commanded me, and had overseen my bath, my preparation for whatever was to ensue. He had taken my collar off and then, later, had made me kneel, fastening it again on me. I knew he had not been armed, but, still, I had feared and obeyed him. Free men were to me as master, as free women were to me as mistress. I was angered, now that I thought of it, that they had seen fit to send only one man to handle me. In the beginning four or five men had, rudely and cruelly, controlled me. But then I had been whipped. They had seen me under the whip, crying out, begging for mercy. They had known then, I suppose, as slavers can know such things, that no more than one man would be necessary to see to my governance. I was only a man of Earth.

Then I was frightened, for I had not yet knocked at the iron door.

I knocked lightly, frightened, at the door. I had knocked timidly. I had scarcely heard the knock myself. I put my head down, trembling.

I looked down the corridor. The man who had conducted me to this place had now disappeared, together with the guards.

He had doubtless gone about his duties, whatever they might be, and the guards had returned to their post. I could see far down the corridor.

They did not fear to leave me at the door, alone. One man had, in effect, conducted me to this place. He, and the guards, had now left. I might as well have been a woman They showed me no more respect than they might have accorded to a helpless, vulnerable slave girl. How shamed I was. Yet were they not right? I was a man of Earth. Are we not all well tamed?