A Free Woman

"Do not make me come for you," I said to her.

There is a saying, 'Within every woman is both a slave girl and a free woman.' I think that is mostly true, as the world works best with both types of women, and the potentiality of all women to be either. Or both. All women, of course, by nature, are slave girls. This, for me, is irrefutable. What, then, would life be if all women, in the legal and literal sense, were made slaves? Wake up tomorrow to find the proclamation that all women, effective immediately, are to be stripped, branded, and subject to ownership to the first man to place a collar about her throat. Or, perhaps, it would be better to make arrangements with neighboring cities that equitable exchanges might be made. In any case, this is not a favorable situation. Not all women are pleasing enough, whether inwardly or outwardly, to be slave girls. Too, who would be the mothers of our children? Also, it is true that many free women make valuable contributions to society. I have known brilliant Scribes, for example, that just happened to be free women. I knew a woman of the Bakers who was rumored to be a beauty, that was ambitious, hard-working, and also a free woman. They were slaves, of course, inherently, because they were women, but their contributions as free women to society were not unworthy of mention. The ultimate point I am making is simple. If a woman makes a contribution to society and comports herself in a manner fitting a free woman, she should be able to retain the dignity of her robes.

There is always the possibility, however, that she will fall to a man trying his chain luck. Or she might attract the attention of a man that desires her.

"You are mine to chain," I said to her.

I permitted her to leave. In time, she will understand the truth of that statement. In time, she will accept that there will be no compromises. I will relate to her as a man to a woman. Not as equals. I want her to retain her freedom, having felt the whip. She will return, in time.

Jealousy

"I am hungry, Master," Mina said to me as I entered the villa, and found her much as I left her the previous evening, chained by the ankle to the foot of my couch.

I left before Lar Torvis set, and returned just as it rose. I saw to the sleen first, of course, finding her curled up on the back porch. She greeted me with a yawning maw, and no immediate complaints about sustenance. Sleen, of course, have the benefit of an evolved metabolism, that they may, when put on a scent, hunt tirelessly for days on end. Missing her supper would not have given her much cause for concern.

"Did you find her pretty, Master," Mina said to me as she ate her breakfast. I had her fry the eggs of vulo, traded for in the markets of Venna. There was flatbread, and some ka-la-na fruit set aside from the previous day's harvesting for my meal. Mina, of course, ate her gruel.

"Did I find who pretty?" I asked her, dabbing a bit of yolk from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. Mina licked at it gratefully when I offered it to her, and then answered.

"The free woman, who remained here the other night. After the Merchant took his leave," she answered. She spoke quietly, staring at her bowl.

"It would have been rather scandalous, would it not, to have glimpsed upon her bare face, even for something so inconsequential as to gather the objective information to make such a determination?" I asked her.

She paused for a moment, brow furrowed. I suspect Mina was somewhat jealous of the attention I paid the free woman who remained behind after Ibrahim of Tor left the villa with his wards and his retinue. She asked another question.

"Did you call on the free woman last night, Master?"

"Are you curious as to my whereabouts, Mina?"

"Yes, Master," she said, straightening, emboldening herself. She did not elect, I noted, to meet my eyes.

"Perhaps you should be beaten," I said.

"Whatever pleases you, Master," she answered. I did not much care for her tone.

"Would you have preferred we remained in Port Kar, above the tavern, in the rented room?"

I saw her breath catch, and the corner of her left eye moisten.

"Yes, Master. I would have preferred we remained in Port Kar, where Mina kept your room tidy and did your shopping," she said.

"I am not of Port Kar," I answered. It was a simple enough answer, and a true one. However, I do look back on my time in Port Kar, truth be told, fondly. Perhaps I will return one day.

Mina pushed her bowl aside, having finished it. I could see she had more to say, but feared the saying of it.

"You were with her, the free woman, last night!" she shouted. It was a sudden thing. I admit it caught me off guard. I choked a bit on a swallow of wine, and then turned my head curiously as I dabbed my lips.

"You left Mina here! Alone, and hungry!" she continued, her boldness growing as it found a voice. "And now I must hurry my breakfast! And bathe! And tie up my hair! And stomp the grapes! Squish! Squish! Squish! I hate the grapes! I hate the grapes!"

"I was unaware," I said to her, as if she hadn't just shouted at me.

Suddenly, then, realizing she had lost control, she threw herself forward. Her hair about my feet, her forehead creasing with the leather of my sandals. Her hot tears were flowing freely now, and she shivered. Would I beat her? Would I sell her? Would I throw her to the sleen on the back porch? She did not know.

"Forgive Mina," she said with a shaky voice. "Please, Master."

"Lick your bowl clean, slave girl." I said to her. "Tend to the dishes, mine and your own, and then bathe yourself. Tie your hair up. Put a strip of rep cloth about your hips. See to the grapes," I said to her.

"Yes, Master," she said.

Later, after I had taken a nap and she had finished with the grapes, I would whip her.