Taste of Freedom

Ever since I have returned to Thanta Island, I have an insatiable hunger. Freedom. While its initial taste had been sweet as honey in my mouth, the longing for it became as bitter as wormword. I tried to speak with Asia regarding my growing desires, and at first she seemed merely to placate me with light banter. But by the next day, her ears were adamantly closed. When she overheard me speaking with her kajira Raja of my plans to leave soon, Asia interjected by forbidding me to go anywhere at all.

Silly woman. Marius says women are often prone to bouts of silliness. It's a hormonal thing that comes and goes with the cycles of the moons. At any rate, my mind was made up late last night, when I had stared at the ceiling's watermark in my room in thoughtful contemplation, rather than drifting off to sleep. I want very much to discover the other side of life. Where I am accountable for myself, and where I am my own man. My own master.

Interestingly, I left Thanta and boarded the ferry to Cos still dressed in Xarika's skirts, robes, and veils. The looks I incurred, while somewhat amusing, were much different than those given to a man. Strange men tipped their heads to me and smiled the smiles of flirtation, even if subtle. They bade me to walk ahead of them out of politeness, and even offered their hands out to ensure I did not trip on the dock's boarding platform.

And now I plainly see... just how the Magician herself has managed to vanish into thin air without a trace. For I myself have vanished and dissapeared from Thanta Island.

Without a trace.
This is the ultimate freedom.

Message in a Locked Tube

By the lips of the girl Eta, the contents of the locked message tube had been meant for the Arian... and presumably the one who had the key to fit its lock. But immediately, the locked steel cylinder had been tugged by Asia, as if trying to remove it from the girl's collar. Curiousity blazed in her eyes that suggested an immoral desire to pry into the secret things of others. It made me wonder about the scruples of people, where I had never wondered before. And with just as much immediacy, the man Ven began to volley the idea of picking its lock aloud with Asia. Her protests were vague, and while she left, seemingly to wash her hands and absolve herself of this little crime... she did nothing at all to protect those locked contents from being tampered with. Pried into. And eventually stolen.

I know who the other Arian is. So does Asia. So do all the kajirae in her House, except for Eta. I do not rightly know what Eta knows. She is a quiet girl, who no longer has a steel message cylinder affixed to her collar. It, along with whatever contents it bore, are now missing.

I do not want to be party to thefts or any knowledge of such. And I fear for Eta's safety, for I know what it is to be pressed for testimony, tortured to extremes to ensure that every last detail of truth and memory is disclosed. No... I do not wish this for Eta. I know that Xarika can be a cruel and exacting woman. Too, I can only imagine the contents of the tube so important that they were locked.

Return to Thanta Isle

Within a few hands, Eta and I arrived on Thanta Island. For me, it had been much sooner than anticipated, following my tragically dashed plans to travel to the ends of the world and back with Circé of the House Veneficus. As much as I had once dreaded being alone in Ar, I now reminesce the bustling insides of her glorious walls with a certain fondness.

It was not to be the first time that I entered the Silk & Leather Auction House, hand in hand with an unknown kajira. But I had come to think of Eta as mine own over the past couple hands' journey. Asia too, seemed rather pleased that I had returned, and I wonder if she ever suspected that I might not have returned at all. For I loved the taste of freedom on the back of my tongue.

I loved that I could do and think and say as I pleased, without any sort of expectation or reprimand. I loved that I could, on my own and without Marius nearby to instruct, shake the hand of a powerful man like Agamemnon Sarce and look him right in the eye. I loved that my name was upon the tongues of many an Arian, and that I was not in the shadow of my Master's celebrity.

For the first time in my entire life, I do not know what the future will bring, nor whether I will alter the course of it by my own will.

Eta

She claimed no name in particular as her own, but had stated to me once or twice during the long journey when queried, that she'd had hundreds of names, most of which are best not repeated in the company of free women with a tendency to fall faint with offense. And I myself, added to her growing list of monikers by giving her the fifth letter of the Gorean alphabet, for it was what had been crudely engraved upon a sealed and locked, steel message tube that was fixed upon her collar. Strangely the woman, a Tower Slave belonging to the city of Ar, had been sent to accompany me back to Cos, for the tube's intended recipient who bore its key, was rumored to be there.

Eta is a strangely beautiful woman, much darker than most of the women I know. Yet not as dark as those former Lovers of mine in Schendi. Her smile truly enchants me, forces me when I least suspect, to think about her and wonder. Never have I known a kajira full of so much joy and passion for life, as evidenced in her many stories. Stories which seem so real, I feel as if I am the central protagonist re-lived vicariously through her words. It is during her tales that I find myself reminiscent of bygone days with the Theatre Troupe... and Marius.

The kajira is a highly responsive one, soft to the touch, and often captivating to look upon. She is neither shy nor cryptic when speaking, as most women tend to be. And once again I find myself drawn to a kajira in such a way that I crave to possess her for my own. Though deep down I already know that Marius would despise her for her wretched gender.

Eta my love.. you are much too good. Much too good for the servitude of mediocrity.

Sophia Brings Enlightenment

With a guestlist more numerous than I had ever imagined, Circé's home swelled with colorfully arrayed sequinned masks hiding the faces of important people from each other, as well as myself. I did not wear a mask... for I somehow sensed that no one really cared much who I was, so long as the music was pleasant to the ear. I did not even stay until the last of them dispersed, but went off to bed fairly early in the night to ponder my own thoughts in the silence. It seems of late, that is all I do. Think. And think some more.

It was the following day however, that I had an epiphany of sorts. Circé took me to the Arena again to watch the gladatorial fights, where she enlisted my help in selecting a winner to gamble a bit of coin on.

My mind instantly dwellt upon the loser of such an outcome, and I found making such a choice much too difficult. Natural-born Gamblers, it seems, have more stout hearts and stronger stomachs... as mine forever reels back in memory of my Slink. And I can only hope she still lives and breathes, and still thinks of me.

I think too, after a very short-lived conversation between Circé and myself in her private viewing box at the Arena, that going far away on an adventure with me would somehow be detrimental to her overall reputation. It had been simply a fleeting fanciful pipedream on her part those few hands ago when I had first arrived at House Veneficus. For Sophia has whispered sweetly her imparted wisdom to me, that some things are best forgotten and laid to rest. Never to be resurrected. This, my Epiphany:

Circé had a dream.
From which she has since awakened.

Ar

She is neither small nor easily accessible. Her fortresses are easily intimidating as are her scrutinous assessements before granting permission to approach. Initially one must look upon her with an open mind and an appraising eye, otherwise she is repelling in nature. Do you think I speak of a city? Think again.

But I will say something regarding a city.. Ar, to be precise.. I am glad I came on this recent journey. For I have learned as much about her as I have about myself. Ar is resplendant with gardens and thoroughfares, all neatly arrayed in a colorful grid that is rather fascinating to discover. The Garden District overlooks all others, which is also of curious interest.

Beyond the city are vast swamps. And in those swamps, spiders. Not the ordinary house and garden variety, but the large kind that speak with words men can understand. I do not think that many of the citizens cloistered within Ar's walls are aware of these monstrous, talking spiders known as The Spider People. No, they are far too absorbed within their everyday lives to give much heed to the vast world that lies beyond the city's gates.

But enough of that however. It was inside the city that I met a woman in chains. Heavy chains meant to keep her subdued. She granted to me permission to approach and speak with her, even though I had not asked these things of her aloud. She touched my hair and my face with her hands. Hands that seemed to have been oft washed in the harsh lye soaps. She spoke in whispers that frequently caused her throat to constrict with coughing spells. Whispers that cut to the quick, and in them I heard the beautiful dulcet notes of a musical aria that begged to be recreated upon the belly of my Kalika.

This uncomposed melody that plays its unending loop inside of my head each time I see her, I have aptly titled..

Slink

Small Talk

I was startled by Circés arrival, for I had been lost in a whirlwind of thought and deafening silence. Yet my initial fears were readily allayed when she offered me Ka-la-na to drink. Further, the subject of small talk was not upon my whereabouts for the past hand, but rather upon her own trials and tribulations in dealing with her father and an assortment of potential suitors.

Circé expressed to me a rather vivid image of herself, in which she is quite the shrew. And too, a fond reminiscence of bygone years in which her father encouraged her to a spirit of adventurism. It would seem that upon coming of age, a girl of wealth and means is expected to put away all such foolish notions and embrace the cloistered existance of a societal debutante, in the hopes of capturing one of the City's eligible suitors as legal companion.

Needless to say, I have forgotten my own heartbreak in deference to hers. Yet we have conspired between us, Circé and I, to run away on one last high adventure right after the upcoming concert.

House Veneficus

The walk back to House Veneficus was indeed long and terrifying. I've nothing left here in Ar to fall back on, save my own laurels... which are quite unknown in this strange city so far from Marius' island home on Cos.

Upon reaching the gates that stood like cold iron sentinels before the estate, I stood there on the outside looking in for perhaps two ahn before one of the guardsmen assigned to patrolling the grounds spotted me.

Fortunately I was not grilled too severely, for when he recognized the instrument case strapped to my back over my left shoulder, he hurriedly ushered me inside, escorted me to the house and allowed me entrance. Once again, I was abandoned.

The house is perhaps the largest I have ever seen. It gives me the sensation of being swallowed whole inside of a gilded mausoleum. And what felt to be perhaps the space of another two ahn, I remained there in the grande hall near the entrance, merely gazing out of one of the large picture windows with no more hope of escape.

My eyes are dry, and I am too overwhelmed and exhausted to weep any further tears. I merely await my doom.

Abandoned

Was I not convincing enough, when I said that I wanted to leave Ar and sail back home across Thassa? Apparently just enough to convince Asia and her entourage of slaves to leave... without me. Following a jaunt through Ar's vast merchant shops, the desk attendant at the Inn gave me this message upon my return. Rather cryptic it was.

Had to leave. No time to explain.
The room is paid for up until the end of the hand.
Sincerely,
Asia.

I read this over and over again, but each time there was nothing different that lept out to me between the lines. It is always the same. She left me here. Alone. And I am a million pasangs away from home. She left me here. To stand on my own two feet and face the music like a man.

Fright

What I had assumed to be a small and informal concert entertaining Circé and a few of her friends, I discovered later, and to my dismay, that she has invited a rather large assortment of Ar's upper crust nobility. And I am terrified.

Never in all my years have I stood on my own before such a large assembly, sans the accompaniment of the rest of the Musicians. Never before have I been in such a limelight. Thinking about it causes my belly to flip flop, as if there are small winged creatures fluttering to escape from inside of me.

I want to run away. Leave Ar. Never look back. And I have begged Asia several times to take me back home and to make it so that I do not have to appear before all these strangers. So far, she has said neither yes nor no, but has seemed to take pleasure in seeing me suffer my angst of turmoil.

I am not sure whether my Lady Kalika is as apprehensive as I am, or whether she suffers the same stage fright. So far, she has been entirely silent.

The Lady Kalika

She is more than polished wood and taut string. More than an inanimate object that only comes to life when touched, caressed. She is a lady of extraordinary beauty and passion. And I am in love with her. She fills me with a desire like no other, makes me drunk with a lust that words cannot begin to describe. And I am not ashamed to make love to my lady in front of an audience.

After four hands travel across Thassa and along the Vosk, we have finally headed south and arrived in the city of Ar. It is the largest of all cities, the most heavily trafficked by Merchants. Asia accompanied me all the way to House Veneficus before departing on business of her own, before leaving me in the company of a virtual stranger... none other than the very same lady who invited me to come to Ar and entertain her with music.

Idle talk was rather curtailed and to break the ice, I did offer to play my Kalika for Circé. Although it is difficult for me to recall any of her reactions during the musical ensemble, I do think she was moved by the sweet timbre of my lady's subtle moans and cries of extasy. Because afterward, when I looked upon her, she seemed to heave with breath and her forehead was slightly blushed.

Circé excused herself shortly thereafter, and I now wonder if my lady and I embarrassed her with our flagrant love for one another. Perhaps I shall have to tone down our passion a bit while in Ar, for I am not altogether abreast with all of the customs and requirements of the mainland city, which alone stands as a pinnacle standard for all other mainland Gorean cities, in calendar and in currency and in social etiquette.

At any rate, my hostess did not seem displeased. I hope her friends are not displeased with me either when I and my Lady Kalika are pressed to entertain them all at Circé's behest.