Free Swordsmen of Gor by John Norman Page A

Constantina.
    Cecily looked at her, startled.
    “Surely you will both serve,” I said.
    “He is right,” said Pertinax, cautiously. It seemed he might be afraid to incur the displeasure of the slave.
    Angrily, Constantina went to the side to fetch trenchers and utensils, to assist Cecily, who was already, ladle in hand, at the kettle, apportioning servings into two bowls, forward. Two other bowls were in the background, which might do for the slaves, later, were they given permission to eat. The first food or drink is always taken by the master, but, commonly, following this, the slave receives permission to share in the meal.
    Cecily, kneeling, head down, placed one of the bowls before Pertinax, which was proper, as he was the host. I was then similarly served.
    Constantina, irritably, was placing food on the trenchers, flinging it onto the simple, wooden surfaces. I noted that she was sharing out, already, four trenchers. How did she know she would be given permission to eat? I noticed she put very little on one of the trenchers. I supposed that was the one for Cecily. This irritated me. Cecily after all, was the slave of a guest. I don’t think Cecily noticed, at the time. She did later.
    “You have a Home Stone here somewhere?” I said to Pertinax. Usually the Home Stone is displayed in a place of honor. I did not, however, detect its presence. In his own hut, if it has a Home Stone, it is said that even a beggar is a Ubar.
    “This is an outpost hut,” said Pertinax, “a temporary place, a mere domicile of convenience. I have no Home Stone here.”
    “But elsewhere?”
    “My Home Stone,” he said, “is the Home Stone of Port Kar.”
    “Of course,” I said.
    I noted Constantina take a bit of meat from one of the trenchers, presumably her own. Cecily had carefully, earlier, removed the tabuk strips from their skewers and had laid them on a plate to the side. From that location Constantina had selected hers, and later, those for others. The suls and turpah, too, had been put to the side, for servicing onto the trenchers.
    Constantina must have noticed my eyes on her. She put down her trencher, on a small stand to the side, and, bending down, handed a trencher to Pertinax.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    That was interesting, I thought. He had thanked one who was merely a slave.
    She then fetched another trencher, mine, it seems, and brought it to my place, and, bending down, put it toward me, for me to take it. I did not, however, take it.
    She looked at me, puzzled, irritated.
    “On your knees,” I said to her, unpleasantly.
    She cast me a look of fury.
    “Kneel,” I said to her.
    She looked at Pertinax, angrily, but he merely smiled.
    “Now,” I said.
    Angrily she knelt beside me, clutching the trencher. Her knuckles were white.
    I had repeated a command. It should not be necessary to do that. Such is cause for discipline. Cecily looked frightened. Slaves, of course, are to obey immediately, and unquestioningly. Exceptions to this practice should occur only if the slave has not heard the command or does not understand it. If the masters should ask, “Must a command be repeated?” the slave knows that she is in jeopardy; at the least, the master is thinking, “Whip.” At such a point, the slave will doubtless do her best to make it clear to the master, honestly, that she did not hear the command or does not understand it. “Please be merciful, Master,” she might plead. “I did not hear Master.” Or, say, “Your girl desires to please, but she does not understand what she is to do. Please tell her, Master.” The girl might, of course, honestly suspect that the master did not say himself as he intended. An inquiry in such a case, is simple, and should clarify matters. She might, of course, beg permission to speak, and attempt to discuss or review the command, perhaps if she fears the command might have been ill considered, perhaps contrary to the master’s own best interests. For example, it would