One of the men-at-arms laughed. "When they do," he said, "they will find themselves in the slave kennels." Several of the others laughed.

The man with the Thief's scar then reentered the ship, and the panel slid shut. There had been no bill of lading, or receipts of any kind, exchanged. I gathered that no such checking, common in legitimate exchanges, was felt desirable or necessary. The lives of these men, I supposed, was their bond.

The girls had now been placed on their stomachs and two tarnsmen, with short lengths of binding fiber, were fastening the ankles of each together and binding the wrists of each behind her back. Then, because the baskets in which they were to be transported did not have covers, the girls were placed in pairs, head to feet. The throat of each in each pair was tied to the ankles of the other. This is a device used, when transporting slaves in open baskets, to prevent one from struggling to her feet and in flight throwing herself over the side of the basket. The precautions, however, considered that the girls were drugged, seemed to be unnecessary. On the other hand these men were slavers and not accustomed to take chances with merchandise. I supposed it was possible that a girl might awaken, in the rushing cold air, and attempt to hurl herself to the ground.

Elizabeth, I had learned, who had been shipped from the House of Clark had been transported in a covered basket, lashed shut. This was more common. There had been two girls to each of the long sides in her basket, and one at each end. Their wrists had been tied behind them, a loop running through the heavy wicker to hold them in place. Their ankles had been tied together at the center of the basket. A further precaution, and an independent one, was a long strip of leather, looped several times about the throat of each and threaded through the wicker. Even if a girl should manage somehow, incredibly, to free herself, she would still be held in place by the loops on her throat. Gorean slavers, it might be mentioned, seldom lose prisoners. A girl enslaved on Gor has little prospect of escape. She is truly slave, and is likely to remain so, unless, as happens upon occasion, she so pleases a master that he, perhaps against his better judgement, consents to free her. I felt sorry for the girls of Earth. Their life would not be easy. Elizabeth Cardwell, I reminded myself, was of Earth. Perhaps once, long ago, she had been brought, like these others, to Gor, on the black ship of a slaver.

I turned and observed the black disk, which had now silently lifted itself from the rocky ledge and was moving horizontally away, vanishing among the peaks of the Voltai.

"We return to the House of Cernus," said a man-at-arms, and I, and the others, entered our baskets or mounted our tarns.

In a moment the tarns left the rocky ledge, and in another moment or two, in the distance, I could see the lights of distant Ar.

It was, predictably, an extremely irritable, and a very stiff and sore Elizabeth Cardwell whom I freed at the eighth Gorean hour, at which time I returned to my compartment. She was, of course, precisely where I had left her, though she had managed to lie on her side on the stones and get one or two Ahn sleep that night.

"It did not seem desirable," I informed her, tongue in cheek, "that I show you particular solicitude in the presence of Ho-Tu, Master Keeper."

"I suppose not," she grumbled, slipping her slave livery over her shoulders, tying the slip knot on the left shoulder, and then, grimacing, rubbing her wrists and ankles.

"In the future," said she, "I recommend, when it becomes necessary to impress someone, you simply strike me a few times with the slave whip."

"That is a thought," I admitted.

She looked at me grimly. "My knots are a great deal neater than yours," she said.

I laughed and swept her into my arms. "You wench!" I cried.

"It's true," she said, irritably, struggling.

I kissed her. "Yes," I said, "it is true-your knots are indeed a great deal neater than mine."

She looked up at me, and smiled, somewhat mollified. "But," she said, suddenly, irritably, "that fingersnapping business was not necessary. Eat from your hand indeed!"

"I thought it a real coup," I said. "It certainly seemed to impress Ho-Tu."

"It did, didn't it," said Elizabeth.

"Yes," I said, decisively.

"You try it when we are alone," said Elizabeth, "and I will bite your hand off."

"Hah!" I cried, and Elizabeth jumped. "It seems you must spend another night bound at the slave ring," I announced.

"Don't you dare!" she cried.

I seized her wrist, and she kicked at me, catching me a rather good one under the knee. I stepped behind her and held her. She squirmed furiously, kicking back, trying to hit me with her small fists. I was laughing. My knee, incidentally, also hurt.

"Do not struggle, Slave," I told her.

She stopped struggling, but was fuming. I began to nibble at the loop on the left shoulder of her slave livery. "Do you know what time it is?" she asked.

"No," I admitted.

"If you'd listen to the bars," she said, "you'd know."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"It is past the eighth bar," she informed me.

"So?" I asked.

"So," she said, "I have not had anything to eat since yesterday morning and if I am not at the trough in the quarters for female staff slaves by the small bar after the eighth bar I will miss breakfast. I cannot simply go down to the kitchen like you and demand five vulo eggs!"

I laughed. "But it was my intention to discipline you," I said.

She squared off against me, hitching-up the loop on her left shoulder which I had loosened with my teeth. "My discipline," she said, "can wait until after breakfast."

"I think you are simply punishing me," I said.

She laughed. "After breakfast," she said, blowing me a kiss, much as I had her the evening before, "you can discipline me!" Then she turned and scurried down the corridor.

I kicked the love furs halfway across the room and sat down on the edge of the stone couch.

It was a chipper, fed Elizabeth Cardwell who returned to the compartment, humming and sprightly. "Did you enjoy your wait?" she asked.

"It seems to me," I said, "you lingered long over your breakfast."

"The porridge in the trough this morning," said she, "was simply marvelous."

I closed the door and set the beams in place.

"Now," she said, "it looks like I'm in trouble."

"You certainly are," I agreed.

"I inquired," she said, "but I could not learn exactly when my training is to begin."

"Ah," I said.

"There will apparently be other girls, too," she said.

"Probably," I said. "It would be a waste of time I imagine to train girls one at a time." I did not mention the girls I had seen the night before. I supposed, since they would not speak Gorean, they would not be used in the training. Earth girls, I knew, were usually sold as untrained barbarians at inferior prices. On the other hand, it was certainly not impossible that the girls brought in the other night, or some of them, would be trained with Elizabeth, probably being taught Gorean in the process. The fact that Elizabeth's training was not beginning immediately gave some suggestion that this might be the case.

"Tonight," said Elizabeth, "after the sixteenth bar, I am to report to the smith at the iron pens."

"It seems," I said, "the little Tuchuk slave girl will again wear her nose ring."

"Did you like it?" asked Elizabeth.

"Very much," I admitted.

"I grew rather fond of it, too," said Elizabeth, "after a time."

"This time," I said, "it will probably not hurt much to affix the ring."

"No," she said, "I do not think so." She knelt down in the room, as naturally and easily as a Gorean girl. "What did you learn," she asked, "of the House of Cernus last night?"