"15 - Rogue Of Gor v2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"I have served him," she wept.

"Do you know him!" I said.

"Yes, yes!" she wept, half pulled from her knees. "He uses me as it pleases him, as an abject and total slave."

I looked down at her, fiercely.

"Busebius has me on retainer to him," she said, "that he may use me when he wish. Sometimes I am sent to his house!"

"Where is he?" I said. "Where!"

"Lara!" she cried. "Lara!" This was a town in the Salerian Confederation, at the confluence of the Vosk and Olni. It was no wonder Oneander made no public fact of his most recent itinerary.

I threw the girl from me to the furs.

Sometimes a man speaks freely to a slave. Oneander had, perhaps in his drink and pleasures, confided his intentions to the slave in his arms.

"I was not to tell," she wept.

Perhaps she, a foolish Earth girl, had asked him, and he had not been in the mood to beat her. Perhaps he was proud of his plan to undertake such a bold venture in troubled times. I did not know. Ar, of course, was not at war technically with the Salerian Confederation. Similarly at that time hostilities with confederation cities had been limited to skirmishes with Vonda. His act, thus, though perhaps one of dubious propriety, and accordingly not one he would care to publicize in the streets, of Ar, was neither treasonous nor illegal. It did, however, Lara being a member of the Salerian Confederation, suggest some economic desperation. Being denied the markets of Vonda, and perhaps of Port Olni and Ti, it was natural, I supposed, for Oneander to turn to Lara.

"I was not to tell," wept the girl.

I pulled her up to her knees and threw her against the wall. I took the heavy guide strands of the rope on her neck and passed them through a slave ring on the wall and pulled them tight, pulling her against the wall. Then, with the guide strands, which had been passed through the ring, I tied her wrists closely together under her chin. She was thus tied on her knees, her belly against the wall, fastened extremely closely by her neck and wrists, and some two inches of rope, to the ring.

"I was not to tell!" she wept.

"Did Busebius, your true Master, order you not to tell?" I asked.

"No," she said.

"Why then do you weep and tremble so at the ring?" I asked.

"Oneander did not wish me to tell," she said.

"But I wished you to tell, didn't I?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"And you told, didn't you?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Do you think it was wise for a man to have confided secrets to a female slave such as you?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said.