Rebels of Vulvar (Vulvarian Saga Book 2), стр. 7
“What is your name, slave?” the woman asked.
That seemed a curious question coming from a free woman. On Vulvar, they consider slaves nameless.
“I am a slave, mistress,” I said, handing the gourd back to her. “I have no name.”
The woman smiled.
“I see that you are of Earth,” the woman said. “How were you called there before the Goddess Queens brought you to this world?”
Phaerl had warned me not to use my actual name in the event I encountered someone from Thiva who might recognize it. The name Tobias Hart had become well known at the time of the expedition to Saba I had been part of for the Goddess Queens. Phaerl had given me an alias to use, Tom Gray. I was to use the alias when contacting a spy outside the walls of Nisa, a female who would serve as an intermediary between me and the authorities in Thiva.
“Tom Gray, mistress,” I said. “On Earth, the name of this slave was Tom Gray.”
The woman’s smile grew wider.
“My name is Haela,” she said.
Haela, I thought? Could this be the same Haela, the spy Phaerl had told me to contact on a farm outside Nisa? Phaerl said the woman would give her name without being asked as an identifying sign. And, she had given me an innocuous phrase to repeat in reply as a countersign. My mood brightened.
“Haela?” I said. “I knew your mother.”
Haela laughed. She reached out and untied the cord and removed it from my wrists.
“Sorry, I had to make certain you are the one the Goddess Queens sent,” she said. “Lately, many escaped slaves have been streaming south on the road to join the rebellious slaves in Nisa.”
“You gave me a scare,” I said, rubbing my wrists. “The agent of the Goddess Queens told me to contact you at your farm.”
“Did she?” Haela said, shaking her head. “My contacts in Thiva told me to pick you up well north of here and to transport you to the farm.”
“I would have waited had I known,” I said. “I have walked all day without a break or rations and water.”
“It’s only an hour to the farm,” Haela said. “I will feed you when we get there. Climb into the back. The rebels patrol the road. You must remain hidden.”
I climbed up and clambered over the tailgate. There was a wall of canvas grain sacks stacked near the front of the wagon box.
Haela peered over the tailgate.
“Climb over the grain sacks and conceal yourself in the space beyond. If a patrol stops us, they will not see you if they look inside. They never climb inside the box for a thorough search.”
While I situated myself in the space beyond the wall of stacked grain sacks, Haela climbed back onto her seat and took hold of the reins. I felt the gardo turning to head back south on the road. There was only a canvas curtain between me and the driver’s seat.
“It seems improbable a male from Earth would freely consent to come to Vulvar to serve the Goddess Queens,” Haela said over her shoulder.
“I did not come for that purpose,” I said. “I have no love in my heart for the Goddess Queens. There is a female warrior the rebels hold captive in Nisa. She is the reason I have come.”
“You intend to free her?” Haela said with surprise.
“Yes, or to die in the attempt,” I said. “I love her.”
“But, what of the mission the Goddess Queens sent you here for?”
“I will do my best to accomplish it as well,” I said. “But, what the Goddess Queens wish is of only of secondary importance to me. Freeing the female warrior comes first.”
“I see,” Haela said thoughtfully.
6
The City of Nisa
Bustling, noisy throngs crowded the streets of Nisa. The gate had been open. Though the guards, men who wore the light armor of Vulvarian warriors over bright yellow tunics, had looked me over carefully, none had objected to my entry into the city. Maybe because I was a male and unarmed, or perhaps it was because, as I had heard, the streets of Nisa were open to all escaped male slaves who rallied to the city to unite with Dabar Cooke in the rebellion against the rule of females.
Curiously, as I examined the crowds going about their business, I noticed two things. The men seemed light-hearted and rowdy. Everywhere there were shouts of greetings among acquaintances, laughter, and slaps on the back. It was as if these males who had been conditioned, many from birth, to regard themselves as ignoble, unworthy creatures fit only to serve females in abject slavery, were reveling in their newfound freedom. All wore tunics in a variety of bright colors, perhaps indicative of their respective kohtuhrees or castes.
Had Cooke established such a system for males, I wondered? Kohtuhrees heretofore had been reserved on Vulvar for females only. Overall, the males seemed a vibrant, exuberant lot, confident they could accomplish whatever they set their minds to do.
What I missed in the crowd was the presence of women in the numbers I had once been accustomed to seeing on the streets of Thiva. In that regard, I saw something else I found shocking. Rather than the elegant flowing tunics trimmed in colors representing kohtuhrees, the few women I observed wore drab gray, sleeveless, short-skirted garments terminating some inches above the knee. About their necks, all wore the steel collars of slaves. As the females passed, they moved in a quick, furtive fashion, giving males a wide berth so that they passed in such a way they were never touched. The females walked with their heads down to avoid making eye contact with males.
How different the scene was from what I’d once experienced on the streets of Thiva. There it had been rare to see men outside of their workplaces, and the lively crowds on the