Diamonds For a Slave
He pointed to the necklace. "It is beautiful, is it not?" he asked."Yes," I said.
"It will buy ten bosks," said he, "twenty wagons covered with golden cloth, a hundred she-slaves from Turia."
I looked away.
"Do you not covet the stones," he prodded, "these riches?"
"No," I said.
Anger crossed his face. "You may have them," he said.
"What must I do?" I asked.
"Slay me!" he laughed.
I looked at him steadily. "They are probably false stones," I said, "amber droplets, the pearls of the Vosk sorp, the polished shell of the Tamber clam, glass colored and cut in Ar for trade with ignorant southern peoples."
The face of the Paravaci, rich with its terrible furrowed scars, contorted with rage. He tore the necklace from his throat and flung it to my feet.
"Regard the worth of those stones!" he cried. I fished the necklace from the dust with the point of my sword, it in the sun. It hung like a belt of light, sparkling with a spectrum of riches hundred merchants.
"Excellent," I admitted, handing it back to him on the tip of the spear. Angrily he wound it about the pommel of the saddle. "But I am of the Caste of Warriors," I said, "of a high city and we do not stain our spears for the stones of men, not even such stones as these."
The Paravaci was speechless. (Nomads of Gor)
"Perhaps I will use them to buy a sweetheart." I was outnumbered four to one, as the women crowded in on me, closer and closer like a flock of vultures. Aiyana had taken over the interrogations, attempting to corner me into some game of match-making. Bah!
I had removed one of the diamond necklaces from my leather pouch, dangling it before the eyes of four very different women who'd joined me round the outer wagons' camp fire. While one or two of their eyes lit up, briefly betraying their indifference, it was only the clad kajir Raven who came to me swiftly and obediantly. I kissed her... sort of. Then I placed the jeweled bauble around her neck after allowing her to toy with it awhile.
A slave's favor is so easy to win. Perhaps more women should be slaves.
Anyhow, Raven was eager to help me with a small chore. "Go and pick a flower for me, Kajira." And she did just that. Without any protest or argument from her lips. When she returned, I whispered something to her along the lines of: "Go give it to that woman over there, and flatter her with something syrupy that women like to hear. Tell her it is from me."
Who better, afterall, should know the secret vanities of a woman than... another woman? The Singer had a look on her face for awhile that suggested she was a little less than pleased with my contribution to my end of the deal. So I lost the wager. I was... being nice to Sakmeta. Even if by proxy.
The kajira pleased me though. I think one day yes, I will buy myself such a sweetheart
as that.
