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Mintar of the Caste of Merchants
Mintar is the richest merchant on Gor 'Is she of High Caste?' asked Mintar, apparently puzzled at my lack of interest in his bargaining. Perhaps his price was too low for a girl of High Caste.Description of Mintar As I stood tensely, ringed by the lances of the caravan guards, the wall of tharlarions parted to allow the approach of Mintar, of the Merchant Caste. A bejewelled, curtained platform slung beneath the slow, swaying bodies of two of the broad tharlarions appeared. The beasts were halted by their strap-master, and after some seconds the curtains parted. Seated inside on several pillows of tasselled silk was a mammoth toad of a man, whose head was as round as a tarn's egg, the eyes nearly lost in the folds of fat, pocked skin. A slender straggling wisp of hair dropped languidly from the fat chin. The little eyes of the merchant swept the scene quickly, like a bird's, startling in their contrast with the plethoric giganticism of his frame.Enterprises of Mintar "You are squirming," he said.The caravans of Mintar 'Who are you?' demanded the warrior.I tore some inches from the bottom of Talena's gown to make a bandage for Kazrak's shoulder. She endured this in fury, her head in the air, not watching me. I had scarcely finished bandaging his wound when I was aware of a ringing on metal, and, lifting my head, I saw myself surrounded by mounted spearmen, who wore the same livery as Kazrak. Behind them, stretching into the distance, came a long line of broad tharlarions, or the four-footed draft monsters of Gor. These beasts, yoked in braces, were drawing mighty wagons, filled with merchandise protected under the lashings of its red rain-canvas. 'It is the caravan of Mintar, of the Merchant Caste,' said Kazrak. Tarnsman As I stood tensely, ringed by the lances of the caravan guards, the wall of tharlarions parted to allow the approach of Mintar, of the Merchant Caste. A bejewelled, curtained platform slung beneath the slow, swaying bodies of two of the broad tharlarions appeared. The beasts were halted by their strap-master, and after some seconds the curtains parted. Seated inside on several pillows of tasselled silk was a mammoth toad of a man, whose head was as round as a tarn's egg, the eyes nearly lost in the folds of fat, pocked skin. A slender straggling wisp of hair dropped languidly from the fat chin. The little eyes of the merchant swept the scene quickly, like a bird's, startling in their contrast with the plethoric giganticism of his frame. 'So,' said the merchant, 'Kazrak of Port Kar has met his match?' 'It is the first challenge I have ever lost,' replied Kazrak proudly. 'Who are you?' asked Mintar, leaning forward a bit, inspecting first me and then Talena, whom he regarded with small interest. 'Tarl of Bristol,' I said. 'And this is my woman, whom I claim by sword-right.' Mintar closed his eyes and opened them and pulled on his beard. He had, of course, never heard of Bristol, but did not wish to admit it, at least before his men. Moreover, he was far too shrewd to pretend that he had heard of the city. After all, what is there was no such city? Mintar looked at the ring of mounted spearmen encircling me. 'Does any man in my service challenge for the woman of Tarl of Bristol?' he asked. The warriors shifted nervously. Kazrak laughed, a derisive snort. One of the mounted warriors said, 'Kazrak of Port Kar is the best sword in the caravan.' Mintar's face clouded. 'Tarl of Bristol,' he said, 'you have disabled my finest sword.' One or two of the mounted warriors readjusted their grip on their lances. I became acutely conscious of the proximity of the several points. 'You owe me a debt,' said Mintar. 'Can you pay the hiring price of such a sword?' 'I have no goods other than this girl,' I said, 'and I will not give her up.' Mintar sniffed. 'In the wagons I have four hundred fully as beautiful, destined for the City of Tents.' He looked at Talena carefully, but his appraisal was remote, detached. 'Her sale price would not bring half the hiring price of a sword such as that of Kazrak of Port Kar.' Talena reacted as if slapped. 'Then I cannot pay the debt I owe you,' I said. 'I am a merchant,' said Mintar, 'and it is in my code to see that I am paid.' I set myself to sell my life dearly. Oddly enough, my only fear was what would happen to the girl. 'Kazrak of Port Kar,' said Mintar, 'do you agree to surrender the balance of your hiring price to Tarl of Bristol if he takes your place in my service?' 'Yes,' responded Kazrak. 'He has done me honour and is my sword brother.' Mintar seemed satisfied. He looked at me. 'Tarl of Bristol,' he said, 'do you take service with Mintar, of the Merchant Caste?' 'If I do not?' I asked. 'Then I shall order my men to kill you,' sighed Mintar, 'and we shall both suffer a loss.' 'Oh, Ubar of Merchants,' I said, 'I would not willingly see your profits jeopardised.' Mintar relaxed on the cushions and seemed pleased. I realised, to my amusement, that he had been afraid that some particle of his investment might have been sacrificed. He would have had a man killed rather than risk the loss of a tenth of a tarn disc, so well he knew the codes of his caste. Tarnsman 'Is she of High Caste?' asked Mintar, apparently puzzled at my lack of interest in his bargaining. Perhaps his price was too low for a girl of High Caste. 'I am,' announced Talena proudly, 'the daughter of a rich merchant, the richest on Gor, stolen from her father by this tarnsman. His tarn was killed, and he is taking me to - to Bristol - to be his slave.' 'I am the richest merchant on Gor,' said Mintar calmly. Talena gulped. 'If your father is a merchant, tell me his name,' he said. 'I will know of him.' 'Great Mintar,' I spoke up, 'forgive this she-tharlarion. Her father was a goat keeper by the swamp forests of Ar, and I did steal her, but she begged me to take her from the village. She foolishly ran away with me, thinking I would take her to Ar, to dress her in jewels and silks and give her quarters in the high cylinders. As soon as we left the village, I put the bracelets on her and am taking her to Bristol, where she will tend my goats.' Tarnsman Mintar seemed amused. 'While in my service, you may keep her on my chain if you wish,' he said. 'Mintar is generous,' I granted. 'No,' said Talena. 'I will share the tent of my warrior.' 'If you like,' said Mintar, paying no attention to Talena, 'I will arrange her sale in the City of Tents and add her price to your wages.' 'If I sell her, I will sell her myself,' I said. 'I am an honest merchant,' said Mintar, 'and I would not cheat you, but you do well to handle your own affairs.' Mintar eased his great frame deeper into the silken pillows and motioned the strap-master of his tharlarions to close the curtains. Before the swept shut, he said, 'You will never get forty-five tarn discs.' I suspected he was right. He undoubtedly had better merchandise, more reasonably priced. Tarnsman The next few days were among the happiest of my life, as Talena and I became a part of Mintar's slow, ample caravan, members of its graceful, interminable, colourful procession. It seemed the routine of the journey would never end, and I grew enamoured of the long line of wagons, each filled with its various goods, those mysterious metals and gems, rolls of cloth, foodstuffs, wines and Paga, weapons and harness, cosmetics and perfume, medicines and slaves. Mintar's caravan, like most, was harnessed long before dawn and travelled until the heat of the day. Camp would be made early in the afternoon. The beasts would be watered and fed, the guards set, the wagons secured, and the members of the caravan would turn to their cooking fires. In the evening the strap-masters and warriors would amuse themselves with stories and songs, recounting their exploits, fictitious and otherwise, and bawling out their raucous harmonies under the influence of Paga. Tarnsman The caravan of Mintar did not camp as usual in the heat of the day but moved on, attempting to reach the City of Tents before darkness. As it was, my fellow guards and I earned our pay those last few pasangs to the banks of the Vosk. We fought off three groups of raiders from the camp on the river, two of them small, undisciplined contingents of mounted warriors, but the other a lightning strike of a dozen tarnsmen on the weapons wagon. They withdrew in good order, driven off by our crossbows, and couldn't have got much. I saw Mintar again, the first time since I had joined the caravan. His palanquin swayed past. His face was sweating, and he fumbled in his heavy wallet, taking out tarn discs and tossing them to the warriors for their work. I snapped a tarn disc from the air and put it in my pouch. That night we brought the caravan into the palisaded keep prepared for Mintar by Pa-Kur, the Master Assassin, who was the Ubar of this vast, scarcely organised, predatory horde. The caravan was secured, and in a few hours trade would begin. The caravan, with its varied goods, was needed by the camp, and its merchandise would command the highest prices. I noted with satisfaction that Pa-Kur, Master Assassin, proud leader of perhaps the greatest horde ever assembled on the plains of Gor, had need of Mintar, who was only of the Merchant Caste. Tarnsman That night I took Talena into the City of Tents, and by the light of torches set on lances we walked arm in arm through the crowded streets, among the colourful tents and market stalls. Not only warriors were in evidence, but tradesmen and artisans, peddlers and peasants, camp women and slaves. Talena clung to my arm, fascinated. We watched in one stall a bronzed giant apparently swallowing balls of fire, in the next a silk merchant crying the glories of his cloth, in another a hawker of Paga; in still another we watched the swaying bodies of dancing slave girls as their master proclaimed their rent price. 'I want to see the market,' Talena said eagerly, and I knew the market she meant. This vast city of silk would surely have its Street of Brands. Reluctantly I took Talena to the great tent of blue and yellow silk, and we pressed in among the hot, smelling bodies of the buyers, forcing our way towards the front. There Talena watched, thrilled, as girls, several of whom she had known in the caravan, were placed on the large, rounded wooden block and sold, one by one, to the highest bidder. 'She's beautiful,' Talena would say of one as the auctioneer would tug the single loop on the right shoulder of the slave livery, dropping it to the girl's ankles. Of another, Talena would sniff scornfully. She seemed to be pleased when her friends were bought by handsome tarnsmen, and laughed delightedly when one girl, to whom she had taken a dislike, was purchased by a fat, odious fellow, of the Caste of Tarn Keepers. Tarnsman We purchased a bottle of Ka-la-na wine and shared it as we walked through the streets. She begged a tenth of a tarn disc from me, and I gave it to her. Like a child she went to one or two stalls, making me look the other way. In a few minutes she returned, carrying a small package. She gave me the change and leaned against my shoulder, claiming that she was weary. We returned to our tent. Kazrak was gone, and my suspicion was that he was gone for the night, that he was even now tangled in the sleeping robes of one of the torchlit booths of the City of Tents. Tarnsman 'Your daughter hates me,' I said. 'She has agreed to be the mate of Pa-Kur, the Assassin,' he said, 'in order that you might have one small chance of life, on the Frame of Humiliation.' 'How do you know this?' I asked. 'It is common knowledge in the camp of Pa-Kur,' replied Marlenus. I could sense him smiling in the darkness. 'I myself, as one of the Afflicted, learned it from Mintar, of the Merchant Caste. Merchants must keep their friends on both sides of the fence, for who knows if Marlenus may not once more sit upon the throne of Ar?' Tarnsman I brought the tarn down near the far ranges of Pa-Kur's tents, where his camp ended, seven or eight miles from the city. I was not too surprised when I was not challenged; Pa- Kur's arrogance, or simply his rational assurance, was such that no sentries, no signs and countersigns, had been arranged at the rear of the camp. Leading the tarn, I entered the camp as casually as I might have strolled into a carnival or fair. I had no realistic or clearheaded plan, but was determined somehow to find Talena and escape, or die in the attempt. I stopped a hurrying slave girl and inquired the way to the compound of Mintar, of the Merchant Caste, confident that he would have accompanied the horde back to the heartland of Ar. The girl was not pleased to be delayed on her errand, but a slave on Gor does not wisely ignore the address of a free man. She spit the coins she carried in her mouth into her hand, and told me what I wanted to know. Few Gorean garments are deformed by pockets. An exception is the working aprons of artisans. Soon, my heart beating quickly, my features concealed by the helmet I had taken from the warrior in the Voltai, I approached the compound of Mintar. At the entrance to the compound was a gigantic, temporary wire cage, a tarn cot. I tossed a silver tarn disc to the tarn keeper and ordered him to care for the bird, to groom and feed it and see that it was ready on an instant's notice. His grumbling was silenced by an additional tarn disc. I wandered about the outskirts of Mintar's compound, which was separated, like many of the merchant compounds, from the main camp by a tough fence of woven branches. Over the compound, as if it were a small city under siege, was stretched a set of interlaced tarn wires. The compound of Mintar enclosed several acres of ground and was the largest merchant compound in the camp. At last I reached the section of the tharlarion corrals. I waited until one of the caravan guards passed. He didn't recognise me. Glancing about to see that no one was watching, I lightly climbed the fence of woven branches and dropped down inside among a group of the broad tharlarions. I had carefully determined that the corral into which I had dropped did not contain the saddle lizards, the high tharlarions, those ridden by Kazrak and his tharlarion lancers. Such lizards are extremely short-tempered, as well as carnivorous, and I had no intention of attracting attention to myself by beating my way through them with a spear butt. Their more dormant relatives, the broad tharlarions, barely lifted their snouts from the feed troughs. Shielded by the placid, heavy bodies, some as large as a bus, I worked my way towards the interior side of the corral. My luck held, and I scaled the interior corral wall and dropped to the trampled path between the corral and the tents of Mintar's men. Normally, the merchant camp, like the better-organised military camps, not the melange that constituted the camp of Pa-Kur is laid out geometrically, and, night after night, one puts up one's tent in the same relative position. Whereas the military camp is usually laid out in a set of concentric squares, reflecting the fourfold principle of military organisation customary on Gor, the merchant camp is laid out in concentric circles, the guards' tents occupying the outermost ring, the craftsmen's, strap- masters', attendants and slaves' quarters occupying inner rings, and the centre being reserved for the merchant, his goods, and his body-guard. It was with this in mind that I had climbed the fence where I had. I was searching for Kazrak's tent, which lay in the outer ring near the tharlarion corrals. My calculations had been correct, and in a moment I had slipped the ring that I wore, with the crest of Cabot, to his sleeping mat. Tarnsman There was a sound at the entrance of Kazrak's tent. I darted back into the shadows. It was one of the trusted strap-masters of Mintar, the man who guided the beasts that carried the merchant's palanquin. Without looking around the tent, the man addressed himself directly to Kazrak. 'Will Kazrak and his guest, Tarl of Bristol, please accompany me to the tent of Mintar, of the Merchant Caste?' asked the man. Kazrak and I were stunned, but arose to follow the man. It was now dark, and as I wore my helmet, there was no chance of the casual observer determining my identity. Before I left Kazrak's tent, I placed the ring of red metal, with the crest of Cabot, in my pouch. Hitherto I had worn the ring almost arrogantly, but now it seemed to me that discretion, to alter a saying, was the better part of pride. Mintar's tent was enormous and domed, similar in shape to the others in his camp; however, not only in size, but in splendour of appointment, it was a palace of silk. We passed through the guards at the entrance. In the centre of the great tent, seated alone on cushions before a small fire, were two men, a game board between them. One was Mintar, of the Merchant Caste, his great bulk resting like a sack of meal on the cushions. The other man, a gigantic man, wore the robes of one of the Afflicted, but wore them as a king might. He sat cross-legged, his back straight and his head high, in the fashion of a warrior. Without needing to approach more closely, I knew the other man. It was Marlenus. Tarnsman Mintar reached into the pouch at his waist and drew forth a golden tarn disc, of double weight. He threw it to Kazrak. Kazrak caught it. 'I understand you are leaving my service,' said Mintar. 'I must,' said Kazrak. 'Of course,' said Mintar. 'Where are the tents of Pa-Kur?' I asked. 'On the highest ground in camp,' said Mintar, 'near the second ditch and across from the great gate of Ar. You will see the black banner of the Caste of Assassins.' 'Thank you,' I said. 'Though you are of the Merchant Caste, you are a brave man.' 'A merchant may be as brave as a warrior, young Tarnsman,' smiled Mintar. Then he seemed somewhat embarrassed. 'Let us look at it this way. Suppose Marlenus regains Ar - will Mintar not receive the monopolies he wishes?' 'Yes,' I said, 'but Pa-Kur will guarantee those monopolies as freely as Marlenus.' 'Even more freely,' corrected Mintar, turning his attention again to the board, 'but, you see, Pa-Kur does not play the game.' Tarnsman It was as a warrior of Gor that I arose and donned the black helmet and the garments of the Caste of Assassins. I loosened my sword in its sheath, set my shield on my arm, and grasped my spear. My steps were determined when I left the tent. I strode meaningfully to the great tarn cot at the entrance to Mintar's compound and demanded my tarn. The tarn was brought into the open. He gleamed with health and energy. Still, the days in the tarn cot, gigantic though it was, must have been confining for that Ubar of the Skies, my tarn, and I knew he would relish flight, the chance to pit his wings once again against the fierce winds of Gor. I stroked hi with affection, surprised at the fondness I felt for the sable monster. I tossed the tarn keeper a golden tarn disc. He had done his job well. He stammered, holding it out to me to take it back. A golden tarn disc was a small fortune. It would buy one of the great birds themselves, or as many as five slave girls. I climbed the mounting ladder and fastened myself in the saddle, telling the keeper that the coin was his. I suppose it was a gesture, nothing but a gesture, but, pitiful though it might be, it pleased me, and, to be honest, I did not expect to live to spend the coin. 'For luck,' I said. Tarnsman "Where are you from?" asked one eagerly. "I have lived all my life in Tharna," I told them. There was a great roar of laughter. Soon, pounding the time on the table with the butt of my spear, I was leading a raucous round of songs, mostly wild drinking songs, warrior songs, songs of the encampment and march, but too I taught them songs I had learned in the caravan of Mintar the Merchant, so long ago, when I had first loved Talena, songs of love, of loneliness, of the beauties of one's cities, and of the fields of Gor. Outlaw I jerked the whip from his hand, and with my arm struck him aside. He flew tumbling into the sand. I threw the whip scornfully after him. I stood near the platform now. I wanted to see the ankle ring the bird wore. I noted with satisfaction that its talons were shod with steel. It was a War Tarn, bred for courage, for endurance, for combat in the skies of Gor. My nostrils drank in the wild, strong odor of the tarn, so offensive to some, yet an ambrosia to the nostrils of the tarnsman. It recalled the tarn cots of Ko-ro-ba and Ar, the Compound of Mintar in Pa-Kur's City of Tents on the Vosk, the outlaw encampment of Marlenus among the crags of the Voltai Range. Outlaw Then the smell of a cooking fire came to my nostrils. I heard the hum of unhurried conversation. Through the trees I could see tent canvas, a tharlarion wagon, the strap-masters unharnessing a brace of low tharlarions, the huge, herbivorous draft lizards of Gor. For all I could tell neither of them had heard the scream, or paid it any attention. I slowed to a walk and entered the clearing among the tents. One or two guardsmen eyed me curiously. One arose and went to check the woods behind me, to see if I were alone. I glanced about myself. It was a peaceful scene, the cooking fires, the domed tents, the unharnessing of the animals, one I remembered from the caravan of Mintar, of the Merchant Caste. But this was a small camp, not like the pasangs of wagons that constituted the entourage of the wealthy Mintar. Outlaw There were other favored areas, too, about the stands, in the front, each covered by awnings, in which there sat members of the numerous high families of the city; I noted that some of these areas were now occupied by Merchants; I had no objection to this for I have always thought higher of the Merchants than many of my caste, but I was surprised; in the time of Marlenus, when he was Ubar of Ar, I think even his friend, Mintar, that great brilliant toad of a man, of the Caste of Merchants, would not have had so choice a vantage point from which to observe the races. Assassin Clearly, he wished me to play him at my full efficiency, without handicap, as soon as possible. I had beaten him the third game, and he had then, delighted, ceased in his explanations and advice and, together, the board between us, each in our way a warrior, we had played Kaissa. The Forkbeard’s game was much more varied, and tactical, than was that of, say, Marlenus of Ar, much more devious, and it was far removed from the careful, conservative, positional play of a man such as Mintar, of the caste of Merchants Marauders We had visited various villages, but, on the whole, we had made our way along the road to Ar. He must replenish his stores. I was pleased that he had not sold me to peasants. Another fate, I knew, he had in store for me. When we had come to the great road I had rejoiced. It is broad, fairly smooth, and built like a wall, sunk in the earth. It is not hard to draw the cart on such a road. My work, thus, was easier. We could see villages here and there more frequently now; too, occasionally there were hostels and taverns on the road. I enjoyed seeing caravans pass, and villagers with their bosk wagons. I feared the great tharlarion of the caravans. Often the animals wore belled harnesses. Once we were passed by a great slave caravan. There were more than four hundred wagons with girls ankle-chained in them. It was a caravan of Mintar, the great merchant. Another time we were passed by a smaller slave caravan. In this caravan, there were few wagons, and those there were showed scarring and marks of fire. Goods and wounded men lay in the wagons. Afoot, between the wagons, walked a chain of forty girls. They were neck chained, and their wrists were fastened behind their backs with slave bracelets. Their heads were down. Many were beautiful. Slave Girl There were some 200 men at the sale. Such sales occur frequently in the various sales barns of Victoria, sometimes running for several nights in a row. The spring and summer are the busiest seasons, for these are the seasons of heaviest river traffic and, accordingly, the seasons when pirates, after their raids, are likely to bring in their loot. Many of the men at the slaves barn were professional slavers, from other towns and cities, looking for bargains. "Sold to Targo of Ar!" announced the auctioneer. Manacles were then clapped on the blonde and she was dragged from the block. I was angry for I did not even know if Miss Henderson was to be sold, or if she had already been sold. If she had been sold, she might even now, while I stood about, helplessly be being transported from Victoria, a slave, anywhere. My fist were clenched. My palms were sweating. The next two girls, brunettes, were sold to Lucilius of Tyros. The next four slaves were purchased by a fellow named Publius, who was an agent for a Mintar of Ar. Rogue I stood in a long line, single-file, of some twenty girls. We were all naked. We were in the yard of one of the linen mills of Mintar, of Ar. I heard the second of the two heavy gates close behind us. I looked back, and about me, across the yard, at the high walls, with their guard stations. Kajira I was not now collared. It had been removed from me a few Ehn ago, before I had been assigned to this line. I had worn it for only a few Ahn. Outside of Ar we had stopped at the office and holding area of a man associated with the various enterprises of Mintar, including his mills. There we were to be divided up and, with others, transferred to closed slave wagons. One does not usually take an open slave wagon on the streets of Ar, in deference to the sensibilities of free women. While others were in the holding area I was taken by Tenrak, which was , as I had later learned, the name of the leader of the two drivers, to the shop of a metal worker. There something was done to me. Then I was returned to the holding area, now a slave. At the holding area I was put in a transfer collar. The others were already in theirs. These collars were color coded for our destinations, some girls being delivered to one place and some to another. There is an ordinance in Ar, incidentally, that all female slaves must wear some visible token of bondage. This is commonly a collar. Sometimes, too, however, it is a bracelet or anklet. This was the first time I had ever ridden in a common slave wagon. Kajira "Come around to the side of the table and kneel here," he said. I did so. He then bent over and, cupping his left hand under my left breast, held it steady and, with a grease pencil, across it, above the nipple, inscribed four characters. "That is your mill number, Tiffany," he said, "four thousand and seventy-three." "Yes, Master," I said. "Now, go there," he said, indicating another table, several yards away, near the wall. "Yes, Master," I said. Tenrak and Durbar, at the office of the man of Mintar, outside the gate, had received ten copper tarsks for me. This did not seem to me much but it was, of course, enough to give them each five nights of pleasure in a paga tavern. I recalled that Drusus Rencius had thought I might go for something between fifteen and twenty tarsks. I had gone for only ten. On the other hand it had not been all open sale. Too, of course, I was shorn and being considered in terms of utilization in the mills. Some girls, Tenrak had assured me, go for as little as five copper tarsks. Ten copper tarsks, he assured me, was a good price for a mill girl. Kajira I now stood before a man near the wall Behind him was a table, on which there were, aligned, several collars, all seemingly identical in appearance and design. He had an aide with him. The man looked at my left breast, reading the characters written there. "Four-zero-seven-three," he said. He was then handed a collar, the next in a series of diminishing rows. "Name?" he asked. "Tiffany, if it pleases Master," I said. "Can you read?" he asked. "No, Master," I said. He then showed me the collar, indicating the engraving on it. "This is a company collar," he said. "It says, 'I belong to Mintar of Ar. I work in Mill 7. My number is four-zero-seven-three.'" Kajira "Kneel and kiss the whip of Mintar," he said. He took a whip from the table and held it before me. "Again and again," he said, "tenderly, lingeringly." I did so. I trembled, thrilled, forced to kiss a man's whip, and in the intimate manner of a slave. I supposed that I would never see the man whose whip I was kissing. "What is your name?" he asked. "Tiffany," I said. "In what mill do you work?" "Mill 7." "What is your girl number?" "4073," I said. "Whose collar do you wear?" "The collar of Mintar of Ar." "Who owns you?" "Mintar of Ar." "Who do you love?" "Mintar of Ar." "Welcome to Mill 7, Tiffany," he said. "Thank you, Master," I said. He then replaced the whip on the table and handed me, from a basket, two tunics. They were folded, and washed, and brown. "Thank you, Master," I said. I held them close to me. I would later discover that they were rather common slave tunics, brief, with no nether closure. Too, they were sleeveless, slit at the sides, and with a plunging neckline. On the front of the left shoulder there was a design, in white and yellow, bearing what I would later learn was an inscribed "Mu." This was a design, I would later learn, which was common to many of the different enterprises of Mintar. "Mu" is the first letter of the name Mintar. White and yellow, or white and gold, are the colors of the merchants. The tunic had nothing specific to the mills, of Mill 7. Such a tunic might have been worn by girls laboring or serving in almost any of his holdings. It was thus, in a broad sense, a company tunic. I wondered how many girls Mintar owned, or were owned by the enterprises of Mintar. "Go now, over there," he said, pointing, "and get in that line, where you see that small yellow flag. You will be in the chain of Borkon. He will be your whip master." Kajira "Come along," he said. "Aemilianus, the nephew of Mintar, is in the mill." "What is he doing here?" I asked. "It is supposedly merely a surprise inspection," he said, "but one supposes there is something more to it." I then, almost running, hurried after him, returning to my loom. Kajira Though I had been here only two days, some forty Ahn, I reveled in its contrast with the mills. It was clean, and spacious and quiet, and had lovely grounds, surrounded by a high, white wall, in which was an ornate, barred gate. Here I was well rested and well fed. My duties were light, usually those of a maid, dusting and cleaning, making beds, tidying rooms, and such. Sometimes, too, I helped in the kitchen. I did not have to wear the mill uniform, bearing the sign for the enterprises of Mintar, but wore, instead, usually, a light, white house tunic, similar to that often worn by tower slaves. I even had access to a bath. Similarly my kennel was comfortable and, for a kennel, spacious. I could not stand erect in it but there was more than enough room to stretch out and roll about. The gate in the kennel was a small one. It was barred, and set in the barred side of the kennel facing the corridor. It is common to have one side of a kennel open, except for the bars. The girl is always, you see, to be available to the eyes of the master. Kajira "The motivation of mill girls, as you can see," said Aemilianus, "is high. Accordingly, they may be expected to train swiftly, desperately and superbly." "Have you discussed your ideas with Mintar?" asked a man. "Yes," said Aemilianus, "and he has given me license to proceed." "Would this be involved with the enterprises of Mintar?" asked a man. "No," said Aemilianus. "It would become one of the enterprises of Aemilianus." My uncle, of course, will extend the initial loans at nominal rates," said Aemilianus. "I see," said the man. "I am not sure this is practical," said a man. "It will be a difficult field to break into," said another man. "It is a question," said Aemilianus, "of providing a quality service at competitive prices." Kajira kaliana_kajira@yahoo.com 
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