Duel of the Kajirae

[Astrakhan]

This story is a tribute to a guilty pleasure of mine - John Norman's Gorean Saga, a long-running series of pulp fantasy novels set on a planet on the opposite side of the sun from Earth, inhabited by the descendants of people from various ancient civilizations who were abducted by aliens and taught to fear and reject technological progress. In truth, the books aren't that great, and the further you go in the series the more it becomes obvious Norman's just doing it for a paycheck. But I've always found the setting he created to be a deeply fascinating and detailed one, and one I wanted to explore.

These days, most people know about Gor through its influence in early kink culture - many people in the BDSM community adopted practices from the depictions of slavery in the novels, which grew more and more prominent as Norman realized why people were reading his books. However, I've written this story to be accessible to people outside of the community, so you don't need to be a fan to understand or enjoy it - I've provided explanations of any details you need to know. If you want to learn more, I encourage you to check out some of the Gorean communities on the internet. My personal favorite resource is Luther's Scrolls.

On that note, this story does contain themes of slavery and discipline. I understand that not everyone's into that. I don't condone this sort of behavior in real life (unless it's consensual); it's just for fantasy and worldbuilding. The characters in this story are from another world with very different social norms, and are not meant to reflect the attitudes of modern Earth society.

---

To live in the city of Esalinus, where I make my home, can be counted as a rare privilege. Of all the cities of Gor, we are not the grandest or the mightiest. We have not the armies of Ar or the wealth of Turia. But though we may be of comparatively modest sorts, we enjoy a peace rare in this world - it is through our lack of ambitions that we have avoided the petty squabblings of cities greater than we. So too, we sit on the well-traveled Road of Cyprianus, merely two hundred pasangs from the holy Sardar Mountains, and our merchants have drawn great wealth from the pilgrims who flood our streets four times a year.

Although I - Marius Decimus - am a member of the Warrior Caste, and I have trained in the sword and spear and crossbow, I have not had to take up arms in any battles against the forces of other cities. I have only needed to lend my services in warding off bandit skirmishes and providing security to caravans. But as a member of one of the High Castes, I nevertheless enjoy a position of status in the city - less than that of the Physicians, Builders, Scribes, and Initiates, but above that of the Low Castes.

It is that privilege that brought me into contact with Gaius Tercio. A member of the Merchant Caste - a Low Caste by the will of the Priest-Kings, yet one with power rivaling that of the High Castes - his enterprise prospered under the particular conditions of life in Esalinus, and he is one of the wealthiest men in the city. Our paths first crossed years ago, when he hired my sword to guard one of his caravans (a thoroughly uninteresting job, I must admit), and we have remained friends ever since. Having such connections to one of the most powerful people in Esalinus has granted its own benefits, of course.

Knowing Gaius as closely as I do, I have grown quite well acquainted with his eccentricities. I know which of the public gardens are his favorite. I know the songs that he cannot help but shed a tear to. I know the vintages of Cosian wine that he refuses to touch out of principle. But there are two things about Gaius Tercio that are perhaps the most memorable among all who know him.

One is that he enjoys throwing lavish parties, where all of his close friends are invited to partake in feasting and drinking. The second is that Gaius fancies himself as a collector of kajirae - slave girls.

He has amassed a great many girls from all walks of life and all corners of Gor, prizing their novelty as much as he prizes their beauty. To Gaius, a slave girl is not beautiful merely by her looks. Her truest beauty comes from her story - in the ways that she is a unique and irreplaceable specimen the likes of which are unseen anywhere else in the world. He celebrates the background of each of them - where she came from, what she knows, her particular skills and traits and quirks. If every woman in his harem was alike, he has said, he would grow bored of them. They would be just as common as flowers - beautiful, perhaps, but ultimately interchangeable. But through their differences he is reminded of how varied the human race truly is, and how each life is precious and particular.

It was on the seventh day of the month of Camerius that I found myself invited to another one of my friend Gaius's lavish banquets - of course, delivered to my abode by one of his slave girls, who he had sent as a messenger. I had thought, by then, that I would have well known what to expect from the merchant's spectacles. But what I beheld on that day was a spectacle beyond any I had ever beheld in the presence of Gaius Tercio - a spectacle that could not but move even the heart of a warrior as I.

I arrived at Gaius's villa in the early evening, as the sun was beginning to set and bathe the horizon in its fiery hues. It was in that light that I could appreciate the beauty of the home. Gaius's wealth had bought him a most pleasant villa on the hills not far from Esalinus, with a red-tiled roof encircling a central courtyard. The gardens outside were bedecked in pillars and statues of fine marble, fountains that poured clear waters, and groves of olive and cypress trees. This, of course, was not the first time I had attended Gaius's villa, and I was well accustomed to its bounties - yet now there were other guests arriving, and they looked upon the gardens and wept for their beauty, for they had never before seen anything so lovely.

When I approached the entrance, Gaius was already there - a stout man, with a mop of curly dark hair upon his head, draped in the gold-trimmed white robes that marked him as one of the Merchant Caste. Those robes, I knew, were of fine silk imported from as far as Turia - he had boasted as much - and he even wore a sash dyed in violet about his shoulder. This was a provocative statement, as purple was the color of the ubars who governed the cities in times of war. When he faced me, it was with a grin, and he clasped me upon the shoulder.

"Tal, my friend," he said in the traditional greeting. "See this - see how these people look upon my villa with such wonder! Oh, it is a joyous night indeed!"

I suppose I must envy Gaius. For a man who is so taken with collecting all varieties of women that exist in the world, there are some things that never seem to lose their luster for him.

"Come inside now, Marius," he continued. "I'll have Kyra take your cloak."

"Kyra?" I raised an eyebrow - this was a name I did not recognize.

Gaius grinned wider before he clapped his hands, and - as I could have at least surmised - a slave girl stepped forth from deeper in the halls. I knew that Gaius was in the possession of a great many kajirae, of course, surely more than any I could count even after so many visits to his home, but I knew I had not seen this one before - because I surely would have recalled the commanding presence that exerted itself the moment I looked into her eyes.

Kyra was a tall girl, and her body was a fit one - each muscle taut and toned beneath her golden-brown skin. Her hair, long and loose, was a pale blonde, and emerald-green eyes looked back at me as she turned her gaze up toward mine. As was typical of Gaius's slave girls, she wore little more than a silver collar and a scarlet silk camisk - a sleeveless poncho that fell around her shoulders, hanging at the front and back of her body and belted at the waist with a sash. I could thus, from the sides, see the swell of her ample bosom, the sweep of her hips, and the toned, solid muscles of her legs. On the outside of her left thigh she bore the kef brand of a slave - a staff with two upturned fronds - just above the hem of her camisk.

Certainly she was a striking girl - even looking into her eyes, I could not help but find myself transfixed. But in spite of all her beauty, what perhaps made Kyra stand out the most was the fiery temper that showed through her, even where she was standing still. When Gaius called for her, she did not take my cloak right away. Instead, she stood with a huff, crossing her arms; I could see the sinews tense in her thighs as her bare heels dug against the floors. Even when she did comply with his orders, coming forward and taking my cloak before turning to the next room, she did so with a sneer, rolling her eyes and tossing her head as she stepped away.

I was astounded. Never had I seen a slave show such disobedience before a guest - let alone for her master to ignore it. Indeed, Gaius did not say a word of discipline to her, but looked on with a smile, as casually as he would from his box at the city amphitheater.

"She seems so disgruntled to be here, at this banquet," I told Gaius. "Why, then, do you have her greet us? Surely there are other girls who can fulfil such tasks - do you truly want your guests to see your household like this? For this to be their first impression?"

But Gaius merely laughed. "My friend," he said, "if I wanted only meek, obedient, submissive girls, could I truly be said to have tasted all the many flavors of mankind? I say, let there be the girls who are disobedient and brusque, and let them serve at the banquets, for what is more beautiful than that which reminds us that we are all human - that we all have the same emotions; the same struggles?"

My friend is surely an eccentric man - but these are eccentricities I have come to expect from him, now.

"Come," he said, leading me deeper into the halls of his villa - past the fine mosaics wrought on the floor in many-colored stones, past curtains of billowing silks, and through thick clouds of incense I could not hope but choke on. As he did, he continued. "Kyra, you see, is the latest addition to my collection - she came from a band of Panther Women."

"Panther Women?" I asked. "The fierce warrior women of the Northern Forests?" I had never before made their company, but their reputation is one I had heard whispered of among my brothers in the Warrior Caste who had made the journey north.

"Indeed," Gaius continued. "Her band was defeated by a rival over a territory dispute, and she was captured and sold into slavery at the nearest trading post. She fetched quite a hefty price after she was given over to the slavers in Harfax, if you'll believe it or not. I suppose the novelty added to her value - and some would consider it a point of pride, making a properly civilized kajira out of her. Me, of course - that would make her all too uninteresting!"

He laughed. I cannot say I reciprocated in his mirth. But I have come to expect such from Gaius nonetheless.

Gaius led me to the banquet hall, where three long tables were set - two for free people and one for slaves - beneath a domed ceiling, bedecked with mosaics that depicted the great heroes of ancient Gor. Around me, silken drapes - imported from the south at great cost - hung like a great tent, enclosing the room from the rest of the villa. "Seat yourself, if you will," he said. "I have still more guests arriving."

I sat cross-legged on a cushion by one of the tables, looking around me at the others in the room. Some of Gaius's other guests - fellow merchants, clients, and old friends from all stations of Esalinus - were already seated there, but there were many yet to arrive before the banquet could be held. Still, there were slaves at work, setting the tables and tidying the floors. It was there I saw what struck me the most up to that point on that night. I had grown used to Gaius's willingness to tolerate strong wills in his slaves, but what I saw now was truly unusual.

Knowing Gaius as long as I have, I would have been able to recognize Sabine anywhere. Years ago, he told me - in private, of course - that she was his favorite among the kajirae, and on previous visits to his villa she was more often than not right there at his side when he greeted me at the door. She was born into slavery, but from a prized line of high-bred slaves, and it showed - for hers was a beauty matched by few. Tall but curvaceous, with wide-set hips, plump thighs, and an ample bosom that the neckline of her camisk did little to conceal; with blue eyes that sparkled, and waves of auburn hair that cascaded down her pale shoulders, Sabine seemed to embody the ideals of Gor's finest poets when they sang of the beauty of women.

So too she was of a fine temperament, obedient to her master yet quick-witted and sharp; she was not one to speak out of tune, yet she had often chimed in with sage observations and retorts during meals that charmed Gaius's guests with the sight that a slave girl might be so wise. I knew she was the envy of many men in Gaius's circle, and that Gaius took that with pride. He had never been the sort to burden her with common work; he was content to put her on a pedestal, for he and his guests to regale at her beauty and her company. Yet here, I saw her leading a few other girls in wiping the table with a rag of rep cloth - and her eyes were cast downward with a sullenness I had never seen of her before. She always seemed to have such a joy in her life, yet that was nowhere to be found now. Were her beauty not so striking, so unforgettable, I would hardly have recognized her.

I could not help but be curious, especially as she drew near my seat at the table. "Sabine?" I asked.

She looked up at me. "What is it, master?"

I cleared my throat. "I was surprised to see you wiping tables, is all."

Sabine let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled. "My master wills it that I am to prepare the banquet hall tonight. That is what I shall do."

I tilted my head curiously. Sabine's words were well-rehearsed; those of a slave who knew and accepted her station. But her tone was different - it was tired and flat, and there was the lightest of twitches at the corner of her eye as she spoke. I could tell this was not work she was used to, nor was it work she welcomed.

"It's unlike Gaius to delegate you to such tasks," I mused aloud.

To this, Sabine let out another sigh, longer and deeper. Instantly, I regretted pointing it out. "I have given you the reason," she said. Then, she glanced aside. It seemed she wanted to discuss this no further, and the words died in my throat. I wouldn't press it any longer.

Still, my eyes could not help but linger on Sabine as she walked away from the table and back down the hall, heading to the kitchen where the other kajirae were bringing forth silver bowls and goblets. It was not for the sake of her beauty that I stared after her - at least, not only for that. I could not help but see that her shoulders were tense, her fist balled at her side. I could not help but hear the stamp of her bare feet against the finely tiled floor, which landed with fervor at every footstep.

Every other time I had met Sabine, she seemed to be a perfectly happy and carefree girl, one who was content with her place as Gaius's favored slave. To see her so sullen wasn't merely unexpected. It was alarming. I had to ask myself - what had happened to stoke such fire in her?

[tommyfighter]

Getting me all worked up wondering whether Kyra dominates or gets dominated!

[Astrakhan]

Before long, the dining hall was filled with Gaius's esteemed guests. The master of the house was seated at the head of his table, with myself at his side, and some other of his oldest and most respected friends among our ranks. We sat above the bowls of red and yellow salt at the center of the table, in those seats reserved for guests of honor. But even among those at the lower end of the table, there was no shortage of merriment.

The guests were dressed in finery of all colors, sharing stories of their lives and laughing at each other's jokes, and praising the great Priest-Kings for granting them the good fortune to be here in this moment. They heaped roast bosk meat onto their silver plates, with stewed vulo bird, katch leaves and sul tubers, berries served in honey, bread, and all sorts of many-colored spices that cascaded from golden towers. Incense billowed around us from the censers strung above our heads, casting sweet scents about the room.

Of course, the slave girls were there too - they went between the tables with bells strung from their ankles, causing every step to send up a jangle. They weaved around the seats, pouring wine into each guest's goblet. As soon as one cup had been drunk, there was a girl there to refill it. They sang songs as they went - one man, I saw, had already drank enough that their sweet voices had lulled him to sleep in his seat, much to the amusement of his neighbors. For many of Gaius's guests, this was the closest they had ever been to paradise.

I, of course, had been to many such occasions. This was nothing new for me. Perhaps it was for that reason that I could pay more attention to the girls - I was not too intoxicated, for I knew by this point to pace myself, nor too blinded by the luxuries that surrounded me.

Perhaps those other guests would not have noticed the stern scowl on Kyra's face as she went about the tables, or the huff under her breath as she filled each cup. Beside me, as a raven-haired girl shook spices into a guest's goblet to flavor his wine, he spoke of how lovely she was, and she laughed before blowing a kiss in his direction. But from further down the table, as Kyra passed, I heard another of Gaius's associates tell his neighbor how he could never imagine one of the Panther Women could be so beautiful, and she did not laugh, but grumbled under her breath before plodding on.

Perhaps they would not notice how when another man along the line reached out to caress Kyra's thigh, she shoved her shoulder against his, bumping him and causing wine to spill from his goblet. I knew, of course, that Gaius did not want his guests to touch the girls before they retired for the night - it was customary for him to offer them their company after that, but not before - but the girls were supposed to rebuke them verbally first, and insist that they were to leave if they continued. I had never seen any of them react as forcefully as Kyra had.

Perhaps they also did not notice the look on Sabine's face - which was just as disinterested as I had seen when I had arrived. She went about her work in a detached and perfunctory manner, where the other girls laughed and sang and entertained the guests. On my prior visits to Gaius's functions, she had likewise partaken in the merriment - but that was nowhere to be found here. When there was a cup to be filled, she filled it and moved on down the line, saying no word, nor even letting her gaze linger on anyone's face.

Perhaps they also did not notice when Kyra and Sabine passed each other in their path around the tables. When everyone else was lost in the flavors of the food and the tones of the music, I looked up to see that as the two girls passed, they turned and met each other, eye to eye. That was the first time that night I had seen Sabine truly make eye contact with anyone, and when she did, her eyes narrowed into a glare.

Her body bristled and stiffened, like a predator prepared to pounce. At the same time, Kyra's lip curled downward to bare a glint of teeth, and she stood straighter - she was barely an inch taller than Sabine, yet she held herself as though she knew that inch meant everything.

For just a few brief seconds the two girls lingered, eyes locked on one another, but those few seconds seemed to hold a world. I asked myself, what thoughts were going through their minds? What did they think of one another? Was this, perhaps, what cast such a dark cloud on Sabine's mood - and if so, why? What was I not privy to?

---

What happened later that night only stoked my curiosity further. By now the bones of the roast bosk had nearly been picked clean, the bread was half-eaten, and the kajirae had taken several emptied bowls to the kitchen. Still, though, the guests drowned themselves in wine, hoisting their goblets for the passing girls to fill. Sabine lifted her jug to pour a gout of wine for one such guest, right as Kyra stepped up behind her - and as she passed, the blonde's foot shot out for the back of Sabine's ankle.

Kyra barely moved more than a fraction of an inch, and with such swiftness that Sabine could never have seen it coming. But the auburn-haired girl lurched forward in the middle of pouring the glass. She let out a gasp as the wine spilled from the mouth of her jug and onto the tiles below, spattering the shining white of the floor with a deep red.

At once, three other girls dropped to the floor with rags to mop up the spilled wine. Sabine remained right where she stood, looking on with her mouth agape. Kyra turned aside and giggled at the sight. I remember how odd it seemed - she had been a fierce warrior before her capture, surviving in the uncaring wilds, and meeting everyone with a scowl. Yet when she saw how Sabine had blundered, she looked on with the amusement of a little girl. That was the happiest I had ever seen her.

Sabine's eyes were wide, and a blush was deepening across her face. But as she heard Kyra's laughter, she looked back over her shoulder at her, her teeth bared in a grimace. I could see the muscles tense through her body beneath the thin silk of her camisk, even after Kyra withdrew, walking back down along the table with a smirk on her face.

---

When the last of the food had been eaten, and the tables had been cleared of dishes and cutlery, Gaius rose from his seat. "Before dessert is served," he said, "I would like to regale you all with a true spectacle of beauty - the dance of my slave girls."

All eyes turned now to where the floor had been cleared before the tables. Two girls stepped forward from behind the curtains, holding flutes to their lips. Their hips wavered where they stood as they blew into the instruments, letting their bodies undulate to the music. But the true spectacle came a moment later, when three more girls dressed in loosely-hanging translucent silks stepped forth to join them - among them, Kyra.

Kyra stood in the middle, and the two girls to either side of her spun, balancing on the balls of their feet as they whirled about. In their center, the blonde clasped her hands above her head, shaking her hips back and forth with motions that caused her toned thighs to waver and jiggle. When most of the guests were inebriated as they were, they saw no difference in her performance to that of any other kajira. They laughed and cheered at the sight. But I could tell something was off.

I have sat in many of Gaius's banquets, and I have seen many slave-dances from his kajirae, for he has long been proud of his harem and delights in displaying it to his guests. And of all the dancers I have seen at his villa, Kyra was easily the most amateurish. Her movements were slow and clunky, and there were times when she stepped out of synch with the music. She did not smile and rejoice with the freedom with which she moved; in fact, her eyes were distant, staring off at the horizon as though she wanted to be anywhere but there.

I looked over at Gaius, but he still watched the dance with the same grin. I could not for the life of me understand it. Kyra was a toned, athletic girl, honed by her years in the forest climbing trees, hunting wild beasts, and training with her fellow Panthers. She should have had it in her to dance - yet now it seemed like she couldn't care less for it. She saw it not as an art, but as a chore. And yet, Gaius still wanted to display her with pride, as though she were as great a treasure as his Home Stone.

While I pondered this, my eyes drifted to the side, where the curtains again parted. Most of the guests were still focused on the dancing girls, too lost in the music and the motion to care for anything better. I, however, watched - and my eyes widened as I saw Sabine creeping out from the curtains behind them. Treading carefully, she crept up behind Kyra - and, planting her hands against her shoulders, shoved her to the floor. The blonde fell forward onto her face, crying out with a yelp as she struck the tiles.

A gasp went up around me. Several of the guests jumped to their feet. Kyra quickly rolled onto her back, where she glared up at Sabine with a hiss. "Backstabbing harlot!" she cried.

Sabine was staring down a Panther Woman who glared at her with fire in her eyes, but she did not waver - she only crossed her arms, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk. "It's not so fun when it happens to you, is it?"

Kyra lunged to her feet then. She dove straight toward Sabine - just as one of the male slaves Gaius had entrusted with guarding his harem stormed forward, dressed in a simple woolen tunic. The overseer shoved himself in between the two girls, grabbing each by the shoulder to force them apart.

Kyra struggled against his grip, all the while begging for him to let go. Her arms flailed before her, grabbing and swinging for Sabine, yet she was always just out of reach. The auburn-haired girl maintained her composure, looking at Kyra with a smug grin on her face.

"Whore!" Kyra spat again. Her hand snatched toward Sabine, only for the man to shove her back, causing her arm to fall limp just short of its target.

"Go ahead, keep embarrassing yourself, you dirty she-urt!" Sabine retorted.

"Enough!"

All heads turned now to Gaius, who shoved himself to his feet. As much as he normally cared little to interfere in the matters of his kajirae, this had crossed a line - and now, his voice boomed with a commanding fury, far sterner than ever I had seen from him before.

"We are here for the pleasure of our guests - this is no matter to bring before them. Sabine, if you cannot behave yourself in front of my friends, you shall stand for the whip!"

I heard a gulp from the guest at my side as the overseer pulled the sash free on Sabine's camisk and yanked it off over her head, leaving her naked before everyone. Her wrists were bound with leather straps, and her arms pulled above her head as she leaned forward until she was bent over the floor. Her auburn hair was brushed over her shoulder, and the overseer then took a whip, striking it across her back five times. A few of the guests winced with each strike that came down against her skin, ringing out with a sharp crack.

But I had been studying Sabine closely, and I paid heed to each little motion and each little tell she made. In spite of the sting of the whip across her back, she didn't even wince or waver. Instead, her eyes turned toward Kyra, and her lips curled wider into a smirk. The punishment didn't matter. No, Sabine was proud of what she'd done.

After Sabine was sent back to the kitchen, the other kajirae brought forth a platter of larma fruit, cream, and honey-cakes, serving each guest their dessert. But the merriment that had hung over the hall just moments ago was gone. There were no shared jokes or laughs between the seats, only a hushed silence. A few guests did not even do more than pick at their cakes - as though, in spite of the lavish meal that had been set before them, that meal that they had set into with such gusto before, they had all lost their appetite here and now after what they had seen.

I turned to whisper to Gaius, speaking the words that were on everyone's mind. "It seems the two girls don't like each other."

Gaius nodded his head. "Ever since Kyra joined my harem," he explained, "I'd noticed Sabine grew more reserved. But I've never seen her act out quite like this."

"What do you suppose you'll do about it?"

Gaius sat there in thought for a moment. But it wasn't long before he turned to face me, and there a smile split his face. "I think I have just the idea."

I did not doubt him, for Gaius was a savvy man, and well adept at maneuvering a situation to his advantage. It was what brought him such success as a merchant. But I had to wonder, in that moment, just what his solution was.

After everyone was finished eating, Gaius called for Kyra and Sabine to step forth into the banquet hall. Every eye was fixed on them as the two slave girls passed through the curtains, standing shoulder to shoulder, dressed in their red camisks. Both of them were still and tense, their fists balled, and their muscles taut. Though they faced their master, they both peered at one another out the corners of their eyes, and their brows narrowed then in a glare. It was clear where their true attentions lay.

Gaius rose from his seat. "I understand," he said, "that the two of you don't get along. I see it fit that we should reach a resolution before the night is up, so that our guests do not go home wondering. Sabine, would you care to start? Tell us, what do you think of Kyra?"

All eyes turned now to the auburn-haired girl. And in spite of the scrutiny that had been leveled upon her, Sabine didn't flinch - with a huff, she stood straighter and placed her hands on her hips.

"I cannot help but feel that Kyra," she began, "is a shame upon your name, O master. I have served you loyally and enjoyed your favors above all other slave girls. I know how my beauty moves you and captivates you - why, then, do you heap such favor upon this barbarian?" A gasp sounded then, but Sabine continued. "You have taken in a feral stray, and you still put her on a pedestal, letting her dance like a drunkard and snarl at your guests like a wild sleen. You forgive her transgressions, and you punish me for the same. I have sat and witnessed this for too long and said nothing, but now I must speak: is this the face that a merchant as respectable as you wishes to show the world?"

A few murmurs went through the crowd. Kyra looked Sabine dead in the eye then, hissing under her breath; her fingers curled into claws, digging into the flesh of her arms as she hugged them closer. But Gaius continued.

"Now, Kyra, tell us - what do you think of Sabine?"

Kyra stamped her foot on the floor then, in a gesture that commanded the attention of all in the room. "Truthfully, master, I care not for Sabine. I care only for myself. I am a Panther, a warrior - I was not born to serve in such sterile halls, for the jeers of drunken fools. My heart is that of the High Forest, of the cool air and the earth beneath my feet, and the blood of my enemies running beneath my fingers. What fool are you to expect me to act some pampered pleasure slave - should I so throw away my warrior's heart? Sabine has no such spirit. She is content to be lavished over, with no cares or ambitions in the world. If what you want is a whore, then go with the whore!"

She jabbed her finger right at Sabine - a gesture that made the auburn-haired girl gasp. Such shock was shared by many in the room; Kyra had to be bold indeed to speak so brashly to her own master.

"You cannot be serious!" Sabine scoffed as she turned to face Kyra. "Your kinswomen were vanquished - you should consider yourself lucky to be alive!"

"I am only vanquished if I accept defeat," Kyra growled. "Like you have. You have no self-respect!"

"Our owner has only lavished us with the highest of favors and gifts!" Sabine snapped back. "You're the one who rejects that!"

"You have his favor - and still, you are a slave. How much of a short-sighted bore must you be to be content with that?"

"Oh? You think I have his favor?" Sabine scoffed. "I did, until he threw it all away to waste it on a tarsk of a woman like you. I say, let the favor go to one who will appreciate it!"

"The only favor I would accept is that that comes from battle!" Kyra proclaimed, stamping her foot on the ground.

To this, Gaius grinned, rubbing his hands together. "If it is battle you wish, that can be arranged. I will offer you a chance to settle your dispute once and for all, in front of all our guests to serve as witnesses. Then, we may truly say the matter has been settled. What say you?"

"What?" Bewildered, I turned to Gaius at the proclamation, but he said nothing.

Kyra grinned wider than I had ever seen of her. "I accept."

I suspected as much - though Kyra was a slave, as a warrior myself I could still recognize the fire in her heart. It was little surprise that she would accept the offer. What surprised me came next, when Sabine spoke. Sabine had never had to toil, let alone take up arms - yet now she took a step forward, planting her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest proudly.

"I accept!"

Kyra met that with a sneer. "You! Against a Panther! How bold!"

"You have no spears or arrows here," Sabine snapped back. "If you are such a great warrior, then surely you can beat me as only a woman, not as a Panther."

It was a blow to Kyra's pride, yet the blonde did not falter. She stormed closer until she and Sabine were face to face, shoving her chest up against her rival's own. "All that you care for as a woman is softness and weakness," she growled. "You won't stand a chance."

"Then let this be your proof!" Sabine shouted - just before she whipped her hand outward in a slap aimed right for Kyra's cheek. It landed with a smack, causing the blonde's head to turn to the side as she went reeling.
Only a second later, Kyra looked back at Sabine with a low growl, raising her hands with her fingers curled.

"Bitch!" she roared, just before she shoved for Sabine's shoulders, steering her backward.

The lull that had fallen over the guests was gone now - now, they cried out with cheers for the spectacle that unfolded before them. Gaius stepped back with a smirk. He was contented - his job was done.

And of all the great spectacles I had beheld at the house of Gaius Tercio, what came next was perhaps the most captivating.

[Astrakhan]

Sabine teetered backward as Kyra pushed her, her bare heels skidding against the floor. But she didn't waver. Only a moment later, her teeth clenched in a snarl, she reached forward and seized two handfuls of Kyra's blonde hair, yanking it downward hard. The Panther cried out in pain from the stinging sensation in her scalp - but she too grabbed for Sabine's hair, giving it a sharp pull forward that jerked the girl in closer to her. Locked in mutual struggle, their tense, writhing bodies pressed against one another - hips brushing against hips, breasts flattening against breasts, their muscles tensing beneath their skin as they each attempted to overpower their rival.

Grunting and hissing, they turned in a circle, tugging back and forth at each other's hair. Neither wanted to step back or let go - both knew that would be tantamount to surrender, and neither of them were willing to do that in the face of their rival when they had so much to prove. The room watched, enthralled, waiting to see which of the two girls would come out on top.

In the midst of the struggle, Kyra raised one leg, bending it at the knee, and planted her foot against Sabine's midsection. The auburn-haired girl snarled through her teeth, tugging harder at Kyra's hair, but Kyra was undeterred. She shoved her foot harder against Sabine's gut, pushing her back a few stumbling steps, then brought her hands down to clutch her opponent's shoulders. "Weak bitch!" she snapped, pushing Sabine downward toward the floor below.

Sabine winced - her teeth were locked in a grimace, and one eye was squeezed shut against the strain. The more Kyra pushed at her, the more she began to sink lower, into a crouch. Kyra was now looming above her, her hands weighing down against her shoulders.

But through it all, Sabine hadn't released her hair. As she sank to the ground, she dragged Kyra forward to lean in toward her, forcing her to bend at the waist. Then she struck, shoving her palm upward into Kyra's face! Her nails dug into the blonde's cheeks, raking downward before Kyra knew what was happening to her!

Crying out in pain, Kyra had no choice but to release Sabine. She went stumbling backward, clutching at her face to try and dull the pain as red welts blossomed across her skin. From there, Sabine pushed herself back up to her feet, spitting at the ground in Kyra's direction. "Coin girl!" she barked.

Kyra had stumbled, but it wasn't long before she managed to right herself - she was, after all, accustomed to stalking prey in the woods, along the roots and the branches of the trees. Now, she stood straight. Her heels ground into the tiled floors, her fingers curling into claws at her side. Belting out a battle cry, she charged straight toward Sabine.

The two girls met with a clash that sent a cheer up from the onlookers. Kyra threw her whole weight into Sabine, crashing into her with her hip and shoulder. The auburn-haired girl thought she was ready for her, and her arms flew around Kyra's sides to try and hold her back. She thought, I am sure, that she could push back and overpower Kyra with such a grip - but I knew how deadly a charging warrior could be.

Even with Sabine grappling her, Kyra turned and rammed her shoulder against her chest again. She hit her with enough force to send the two girls toppling to the ground. Sabine landed beneath Kyra, her legs flailing and scrabbling at the air. Her bare feet cut through the air like scythes, but the Panther Woman managed to stay on, grabbing for Sabine's wrists and pinning them against the floor. There, her eyes narrowed on Sabine's as she glowered down at her from above.

"You're finished," she growled. "You'd never best me."

But there was a fire that alighted in Sabine's blue eyes as she sneered back at her rival. "Just watch," she snapped. Her legs kicked out again - this time, they wrapped around one of Kyra's legs, grasping her thigh between hers. Then she rolled over, forcing Kyra off of her and bringing the two of them down onto their sides.

"Whore!" Kyra hissed. Even if she had lost her vantage point atop Sabine, she was still going to fight with everything she had. With one hand, she grabbed for Sabine's hair, pulling her head backward. The auburn-haired girl grimaced from the pain coursing through her scalp, but she retaliated in turn, grabbing again at Kyra's hair in both hands and yanking it with enough force to bend her back into an arc. A squeal left Kyra' throat - but, undeterred, the blonde used her free hand to throw slaps and punches along Sabine's sides. A chorus of smacks rang through the air, the sound of skin against skin sounding like a drum-beat.

Though the girl yelped and bucked whenever each strike landed, Sabine was no closer to surrender. She had put herself up to this challenge in the name of proving to the world that she had that strength and spirit in her, and there was no one she wanted to prove that to more than Kyra herself. And she would only meet such an attack by pulling back harder at Kyra's hair, attempting to haul the blonde back from her.

Sabine managed to force Kyra back a few inches - just far enough for her to make her move. She tipped her weight over, rolling on top of her rival. But that only lasted a moment before Kyra bucked her hips and threw her over again. The two of them went rolling across the floors, tugging at each other's hair and kicking their legs with every twist and tumble their bodies made. Their legs grappled for each other in writhing coils, but neither of them could win the advantage. They were perfectly matched, trading each blow they received with one of their own.

At last, Sabine managed to pin Kyra beneath her - her knees straddling the blonde's hips, one hand grasping her shoulder to keep her against the tiles while her other hand was tangled in her hair. "Forest filth," she snapped. "My master's halls are sullied by your very presence!"

"And you'd never last a day beyond the walls," Kyra growled back at her. In the blink of an eye, her hand shot up, grasping for Sabine's face. The auburn-haired girl howled in pain as Kyra's nails clawed down her cheeks, leaving red trails in their wake. Her hips shook, rocking from side to side from her vantage point atop her foe. But her fingers grasped harder at Kyra's blonde hair, yanking a fistful back as hard as she could. Even if Kyra saw fit to force her off, Sabine wouldn't yield any ground without a fight.

The scream that was ripped from Kyra's lungs was one of rage as much as it was of agony. "GET OFF!" she shrieked, throwing her fist hard into Sabine's ribs. The blow landed with a crack, and Sabine reeled to the side. But she still held fast to Kyra's hair, causing the Panther to cry out from the pain in her scalp as the strands strained against the force.

With another shrill battle cry, Kyra whipped another fist into Sabine's side, this time giving her hips a forceful buck. At last, Sabine fell back from her, rolling across the floor as she tumbled off Kyra and fell to the side.

Slowly, the two girls pushed themselves back up. They panted for air, their faces flushed and their bodies traced with sweat. Sabine rolled onto her side, her chest rising and falling with haggard breaths. But her eyes drifted toward Kyra, and there they narrowed in a hateful glare.

"Bitch," she snapped. Her voice had taken a cruder, sharper, more hateful tone. Sabine wasn't trying to disparage Kyra as a barbarian brute any longer, I knew. She only wanted to best her on her own terms.

But Kyra was every bit as determined. I knew that as a warrior I would not dare to show any sign of weakness against a rival, lest I concede the battle before a single sword had been drawn - and I knew in Kyra's heart she would feel the same way. I could see it in how her muscles were pulled taut and her body rigid as she pushed herself back up into a seated position, her knuckles going white as her fingers braced against the floor. I could hear it in the raw hatred dripping from her voice as she hissed at Sabine, her teeth clenching like a wild larl. "Soft house-whore!"

In just a few words, they were ready to throw themselves into the thick of battle once again - their aggression had reignited their fighting spirit. Both of them bellowed out battle cries, so alike in intensity I could not tell who spoke first. They both rose onto their knees, and then they charged, their bodies colliding with a thud.

Their hands went for their hair again, and their talons grasped and wrenched at whatever they could grab. Squeals of pain filled the air, but neither girl slowed - no matter how much it hurt, both of them wanted only to inflict that same pain back on her rival. Blonde and auburn clumps were torn from their scalps, and the strands fell around them like snow as they battered at one another with their chests and shoulders, each trying to weigh the other back, yet neither wanting to release their grip on their rival's scalp.

Then Sabine released Kyra's hair with one hand, swinging a slap against the blonde's side. It landed with a smack, but it wouldn't do anything to quell the Panther's rage. Kyra in turn lashed out to grab for Sabine, nails drawn, but the auburn-haired girl twisted at the last moment. Kyra would only grab hold of the silk of Sabine's camisk - but, undeterred, she yanked back at it hard, trying to drag her rival closer to her.

The sound of fabric splitting filled the air, and the guests erupted into cheers. The delicate silk of Sabine's camisk couldn't withstand the force of Kyra's grip, and her fingers sank through it with a loud RIIIIP, tearing a rent through the garment from shoulder to opposite hip. It uselessly sunk around Sabine's thighs, leaving her heaving chest bare; her pale skin glinted in the torchlight.

But her hands in turn fell to the neckline of Kyra's camisk, gripping one side with either hand and tearing it straight open. The camisk came apart like two curtains, revealing the Panther's toned frame as it pooled about her hips.

With a roar, Kyra lunged forward and tackled Sabine to her back. Once again they rolled, their legs kicking at the air. Their ruined camisks quickly sank down their bodies until they were kicked free in the writhing maelstrom of their legs, leaving both naked except for their collars. Such a state did nothing to slow them - kajirae are not known for their modesty. If anything, it only awakened a deeper, more primal rage within their hearts.

I have never been to the Northern Forests, but I have heard that the Panther Women will dance naked around blazing fires to purge their bestial urges so that they may keep their wits about them when they need them most. I had always supposed these stories to be mere myths, but when I saw Kyra, bare and whipped into a frenzy, I understood that there might be truth to the stories yet.

Now, as she lunged to straddle her foe, Kyra moved more like a wild beast than a woman. She pounced, throwing herself down on top of Sabine. Her nails curled into claws, and she raked at the bare skin along Sabine's sides - whatever had been exposed was now a target, and a means for the dueling slave girls to inflict even more pain and punishment on one another.

But for all she had been raised as a slave, never knowing freedom or choosing her own path, there was that same wildness in Sabine now. Was it that she knew she had to meet Kyra on her own terms so as not to fall behind her, or were there truly those same instincts in her too, even if she had never hefted a spear or stalked prey among the trees?

When Kyra clawed at Sabine's skin, she let out a shriek; her face contorted in a wide-mouthed gape. But then her nails dug into Kyra's tanned back, twisting and mauling at her flesh! Sabine wouldn't let go - not until she had taken what she wanted from her rival!

Legs writhing and kicking, the girls rolled atop one another - first Sabine on top of Kyra, then Kyra on top of Sabine. At every twist and turn they hissed and spat and slapped and clawed at each other, trying to scour every inch of skin they could find. When Kyra's nails dug into Sabine's thigh and raked downward, the welts bloomed red and hot against her pale skin. Yet even as Sabine screamed from the pain, her hands shot for Kyra's hair, grabbing two fistfuls and yanking backward hard!

The bellow that erupted from Kyra's throat was somewhere between pain and sheer fury - a battle cry mixed with a gasp of agony. They had long since abandoned insults. This was no longer a duel of proud women who were standing up for their honor - now lost in the fervor of battle, they were fighting like feral beasts. And like a trapped animal, even in her pain, Kyra was going to fight with every dying ember of strength she had.

One hand grasped Sabine's hair, and she pulled back on it hard, trying to match her force one to one. Her other hand grabbed hold of the auburn-haired girl's breast and squeezed it hard. I had to wince, seeing Kyra's nails ravage Sabine's lovely breast, but stricken by the sight, I could not look away. She grasped it as tight as she could and twisted it, causing the skin to mushroom between her fingers.

Sabine threw her head back against the floor with a piercing shriek. One of her hands fell free from Kyra's hair; whether that was from her losing her grip in the throes of pain or changing her tactics, I know not. Kyra would only match her, releasing Sabine's hair in turn. With that hand freed, she grabbed Sabine's other breast, viciously twisting and pulling it. The auburn-haired girl's face was frozen in a contorted, agonized grimace. Every nerve in her body had erupted in pain.

Still on top of her foe, Kyra pushed herself higher. She rose to her knees, bringing them beneath her and pressing them against Sabine's hips. Still her hands were clasped onto Sabine's breasts, the soft flesh of her bosom straining between her fingers. The auburn-haired girl writhed desperately beneath her, her legs padding uselessly in the air. But Kyra would only push herself further, looming above Sabine enough to stare her dead into her eyes with a piercing leer. Her voice was a low growl - sharp yet soft; so quiet I could barely make out what she said. But her tone, as cold and pointed as a dagger, was more than enough to tell me how she truly felt.

"When I'm done with you," she hissed, "he'll never want you."

[Rocko23]

This is amazingly hot. Hope Sabine fights back to win!

[Astrakhan]

I saw Sabine's eyes narrow as she looked up into Kyra's own, and her teeth tightened in a snarl. A moment ago, Sabine had all but lost herself in a berserk frenzy - but she still knew well enough to understand Kyra's threat. But that threat wouldn't quell her. Now, Sabine knew why she was fighting. Now, she knew that she couldn't stand to lose. If she truly believed she had earned her favored spot beside Gaius Tercio, she couldn't dare let Kyra take that from her.

Once again, the auburn-haired girl bent back her head and let out a shrill shriek. But this time, that shriek wasn't from pain - it was from a single-minded, burning rage. She had to do all she could to tear Kyra down, and to emerge victorious - to prove she had the strength that Kyra couldn't see in her. Kyra had Sabine cornered, now - but I knew that a warrior who had nothing left to lose would fight the hardest.

One of Sabine's hands shot up beneath her. Kyra's naked breasts dangled now from where she loomed above, and now Sabine's fingers latched onto one of them. With just as much desperate force as Kyra had exerted on her, she clawed and mauled at the sensitive flesh. Kyra let out a scream, trying to twist her body away from Sabine's grip - but in doing so, she would only force her breast to stretch out even further in her rival's grasp, straining it even more painfully. And then, Sabine raised her other hand to latch onto Kyra's face, her nails scouring the Panther's cheek as she pushed back at her head.

Kyra howled from the pain - both in her cheek and her chest. Sabine was clawing at her face at the same time she was forcing her backward, and for every inch backward she drifted, the more her breast was being painfully stretched. That pain was enough to make Kyra's grip on Sabine's own breasts loosen ever so slightly, and that was all Sabine needed.

With a sharp jerk of her body and an angry roar, the auburn-haired girl rolled herself and Kyra over to the side. With a thump, they came down on their sides and face to face. Their grip on each other broke, and they scrambled up to all fours. There they faced each other, eyes locked and teeth bared, resting on their hands and knees like wild beasts.

Slowly, Kyra and Sabine paced around each other in a circle, their heads low to the ground and their muscles taut. But it was only moments before they pounced again, narrowing the gap between them with a single simultaneous lunge. There, their naked sweat-slick bodies crashed together with a wet smack as they went rolling back and forth across the floor. Their legs flailed, kicking and coiling around each other at every turn as they propelled each other back and forth. Neither would reman on top for long. Every time one girl seemed to have outmuscled the other, her rival came back and took control, hips bucking and legs entangling one another.

Moving as one, both girls grabbed a fistful of each other's hair at the same time, and they each gave a sharp pull at each other's scalps with one hand. Their other hands flew into a frenzy, snatching and clawing at whatever bare skin they could find. Palms smacked against thighs and buttocks. Nails ran across backs, sides, and legs. But through all the fighting, no one slowed. The two girls were in agreement on one thing: no matter how much pain they endured, it would all be worth it if they could hurt their rival just the same.

The shouts they exchanged as they went rolling across the floor in a tangle of limbs had given way to bestial growls. At every turn, they bucked and roiled. Kyra's shoulders battered against Sabine's own as she tried to force her opponent back, their breasts squeezed flat between each other as they pressed in close - but as they rolled onto their sides, Sabine threw her legs around Kyra, her thighs pressing against her waist to steady her grip. From there, her hands grabbed Kyra's blonde hair, her fingers snaring the strands and pulling them out to the sides in either direction, as hard as she could.

"You still think I'm weak, bitch? Do you?" she snapped. Her thighs squeezed in even closer, as though she was trying to crush the life out of Kyra like a python. Even as the Panther's nails scrabbled at Sabine's sides, she wouldn't let go. Sabine hissed, but she still wouldn't relinquish her grip. Not until Kyra changed her tactics -  leaning closer and biting down on Sabine's shoulder!

The auburn-haired girl let out a scream as the sharp pain of Kyra's teeth jabbed through her system. She began to shrink back, her fingers slipping through the blonde's hair - but even if she had forced Sabine to slow, that still wouldn't be good enough for Kyra. Not until she'd forced Sabine to concede that she had been vanquished by her - conquered. Like a true warrior, Kyra was intent on claiming the glory that could only come from an undisputed victory.

She only bit down harder into Sabine's shoulder as she threw her weight over again, throwing the auburn-haired girl onto her back. Clutching at her hair in both hands, Kyra lifted it higher, hoisting Sabine's head up off the ground. Even I, who had been astounded by the ferocity that burned hot in the two kajirae in the fires of their passion, could not help but be shocked by the brutality she displayed. Kyra swung Sabine's head downward - she was trying to slam it against the unforgiving floor, as though to dash it against rocks.

But Sabine had the soul of a warrior in her, too. And she too was fighting like a true warrior, refusing to concede until she had used up every option. It was as though her very life depended on it! Sabine had already made up her mind - her head wouldn't meet the floor. Just before it could make impact, the girl planted the soles of her feet against the floor and shoved off with all her might. She rolled her body again to her side, bringing Kyra down with her!

The two girls scrambled onto their sides, their legs kicking for one another. They still held fast to each other's hair with both hands, and they twisted and pulled in every direction, hissing and yowling with pain and hatred alike. Kyra kicked her leg, throwing them over to roll Sabine onto her back again, but she was only on top for a short moment before Sabine bellowed with a roar of defiance.

She wasn't going to be bested so easily. With her cold blue eyes narrowed in a glare, she pushed herself higher, her body pressing against Kyra's as she forced herself to rise. She was trying to get back up - even with Kyra laying atop her!

I saw a note of panic flash through the Panther's green eyes when she saw just how determined Sabine was. Kyra pulled down harder on her hair, frantically trying to slow her ascent, but Sabine snarled through the pain regardless. She was going to take this fight back to their feet, one way or another.

With another shove of her chest and shoulders, Sabine battered her body into Kyra's own. Their naked skin was damp with sweat, and the impact of flesh against flesh resounded through the room with a wet thud. Kyra was pushed back up onto their knees, and Sabine scrambled up soon afterward. The two of them sat face to face, hands knotted in each other's hair. They pulled each other in one direction, then back in the other, but neither would stray apart - neither would dare let her rival out of her sight.

Kyra released one hand to grab for Sabine's thigh, her nails sinking into the soft skin with a white-knuckled grip. Sabine hissed through her teeth, her face contorting in a scowl, but she retaliated by dragging her nails along Kyra's tanned back. Kyra squealed in pain, but she nevertheless gripped Sabine's hair even tighter, pulling upward hard.

The two girls forced their way up to their feet, still keeping one hand in each other's hair, all while the other smacked for sides and hips and breasts. On their feet, they turned in a circle, but never strayed from each other. At every moment and every turn of their bodies, they twisted at each other's scalps. Sometimes, their strikes went wide - their duel had gone on for a while now, and the strain had worn on their bodies. But I could tell that the exertion meant little to them - what fueled them was their burning desire to prove themselves.

Kyra balled a fist and swung it straight across Sabine's breasts, where it landed with a meaty thwack. The auburn-haired girl groaned as she stumbled back, her bosom still swaying from the impact. Her hands slipped free of Kyra's hair, and the two of them stood facing each other, breaking apart at last.

Their duel had taken its toll on them both. The sweat on their skin glistened in the light of the torches that lined the walls. Bruises and red marks bloomed across their bodies; Sabine's pale skin showed the paths of Kyra's claws, but she had been sure to mark her rival's tanned frame in turn. Their shoulders sagged against their own weight, and their chests heaved in and out with every haggard breath.

The crowd cheered as the two girls circled one another, awaiting their next clash. They were too deep in their wine, and too untrained in the fighting arts, to see what I saw.

Kyra and Sabine were fueled ever onward by their burning hate - but they were only human. They couldn't fight forever. Now, they were laden by fatigue. Their steps had slowed, and their motions had grown slower and more labored, as though fighting against a current. As Kyra's foot traced a circle about the tiles, she took one step too wide and teetered forward, almost slipping. I noticed it - a shift in form that only a beleaguered warrior could make. There was only so much longer she could still fight. At a time like this, one mistake could spell doom. And if Kyra's rhythm had been broken, perhaps she had just made that mistake.

Did Sabine notice that? Did the fervor of the fight awaken the warrior within her? Or did she simply make the right move at the right time? Whatever the case might have been, I saw it coming before it happened.

Sabine charged, rushing toward Kyra and throwing her shoulder into hers. The Panther attempted to raise her hands to defend herself, but it was too late. With all the momentum of Sabine's charge behind her, Kyra was taken off her feet. She came crashing onto her back, skidding across the tiles - all while Sabine scrambled atop her.

The auburn-haired girl's hand swung out with sharp slaps - one across Kyra's breasts, then back the other way. The blonde squealed from the pain as she twisted back and forth at each blow. Then, Sabine directed another slap higher, landing across her face hard enough to turn Kyra's head onto its side. Sabine panted a few haggard breaths, but she wasn't going to stop for long. If she had an opportunity now, she couldn't waste it.

She clamored up along Kyra's body, her thighs gliding across her rival's sides. She grasped for Kyra's hair with both hands, pulling at it with wicked force. Her knees scrambled up beneath her until they were perched atop the Panther's chest, bearing all her weight down atop her. Growling, Kyra's body twisted this way and that, struggling beneath Sabine. Her palm slapped at her thighs, and her nails scratched at her skin, but it didn't slow Sabine down - not when she was driven by a fervor to prove her dominance once and for all.

Sabine was already in motion. She went gliding forward further still, bringing her bare hips down on top of Kyra's face. The blonde again reached to grab for her, but Sabine was quicker - she grabbed Kyra's wrists, pinning them down against the floor as she leaned over her.

Amidst haggard huffs, I heard a few words slip from Sabine's mouth - a note of lucidity shining through even in the depths of her fury. Even if she'd been given over to her baser instincts, this was something she knew, deep in her heart. "I win," she said, the corners of her lips turning upward in a self-satisfied smirk.

A voiceless, breathless cry rang out, stifled beneath Sabine's groin. Again Kyra twisted and turned, trying to pull her hands free - but with her strength sapped, she couldn't force Sabine to budge. And, with the auburn-haired girl perched atop her face, her breath was draining away from her.

Her groans became muffled - then, her motions slowed, and her eyes glazed over. With each moment that passed, as Kyra's strength dwindled further and further, the smirk on Sabine's face grew wider. And at last, the last vestiges of strength left Kyra - and her body slumped lifelessly against the tiles below.

At once, the whole room erupted into a cheer, as though they all sat in the seats of Esalinus's great arena. Sabine stood tall, rising from Kyra's limp body with her fists held high above her head. The torchlight cast its glow over every scratch and welt across her body; how her hair hung in a tangle around her shoulders - yet in her moment of victory, she glowed with a beauty that was unparalleled among Gaius's harem. This had been a battle to prove her worth - and prove it she did.

As the guests applauded, Gaius rose from his seat to take his place by Sabine's side, throwing an arm around her shoulder as he turned to face the tables. "My friends," he said, "you have enjoyed a rare spectacle on this night - one I am sure you shall remember for all your days. The night grows long, now, and as your gracious host, I should offer you all a bed at my manor before you return home tomorrow. And, as is custom in this land, I shall offer all of you a slave girl from among my collection to serve your company - only so far as I may have Sabine to the furs tonight." When he spoke those words, the grin on Sabine's face grew a little wider.

Another cheer went up from the table. Seeking company for the night, the men eagerly sang the names of Gaius's kajirae - some had visited his villa on so many a night before that they had come to know them by heart, and some had grown taken with their charms. The girls ran to their sides as their names were called; some men, deep in their cups as they were, turned to arguing when they both called the same name at the same time. Through it all, though, my eye drifted toward where Kyra lay, still unconscious on the tiles.

I turned to Gaius then. "If you will have Sabine tonight," I said, "then let me have Kyra."

Gaius nodded his head. "My friend, to grant you her company will be an honor."

My eyes stayed on Kyra now, as she began to stir. She might have lost this battle, but as one of the Red Caste, I could see the mark of a true warrior in her. She had fought just as valiantly as Sabine had, with a wildness that spoke of the forests in which she had made her home, and a keenness that spoke of the ways of the bow in which she had been trained.  I could not ignore the fact that I felt a certain kinship toward her. Perhaps I wanted her to know that.

---

Once Kyra had gotten her senses about her again, I found that the ferocity she had shown against Sabine was mirrored in the ferocity she showed in the furs. Her spirits were still riding high, and the wild urges still possessed her. I am proud to say that I have found none alike to her in any woman I have slept with. Our passions roiled long into the night, until neither of us could stand to carry on any longer - until our hearts were weary and our bodies spent.

Late in the night, in the guest room Gaius had prepared for us, I lay at her side. I panted for breath, my body as slick with sweat as hers was. There my fingers crept along Kyra's side, tracing the edges of a welt Sabine had made with her nails. I winced, imagining the pain Kyra must have felt when that welt was inflicted. With the highs of what I had experienced a moment ago fading, only then did my thoughts return to the duel. I wondered then what Kyra thought of the outcome - of being bested like this, by her most hated of rivals.

I didn't want to raise the question and draw her ire. For a long time - I know not how long - I lay there, staring at her and wondering what to say. But in the end, my curiosity could not be quenched.

"...Sabine," I said then, only managing the one word. Kyra glanced up at me with an eyebrow raised, and for a moment I bit my lip, wondering what she thought of me now. Still, I continued. "What do you think of her? About...what happened?"

For a moment, the corners of Kyra's lips curled downward into a frown. She stared into the distance as she pondered what she had heard, and thought of how she could answer. Then she turned her gaze aside, as though unwilling to look me in the eye. In the end, though, she turned her head back toward me, and she nodded.

"...I was wrong about her," she said. "She's proven to me that she is a warrior at heart. I cannot help but respect that."

And I nodded, for I knew she was right. I respected Kyra for the warrior I saw in her. But I now saw that same warrior's heart in Sabine. She too had fought with passion. She too was driven to stand for her honor. In another life, perhaps, she would have made a fine Panther. And perhaps even a fine member of the Red Caste.

That night was not the last time I came to the house of Gaius Tercio. It was not the last I saw of Kyra and Sabine - yet each time I saw them since, they had no ill words for each other. In fact, some times they even walked side by side by Gaius, attending to the same tasks with smiles. Some of those guests who had been there on that night remarked to me how Sabine had surely put fear into Kyra's heart. Others praised Gaius for how skillfully he had disciplined the girls into working together. But I alone knew what had forged their bond.

Among the codes of the Warrior Caste, it is said that one who has shed your blood and spared your life is your sword brother - a bond that transcends allegiances to cities and ubars; a bond that shall never again take up the sword against one another. A sword brother is one who has proven themselves your equal - one who is worthy of a warrior's respect, and that respect is worn with pride.

In my training as a warrior, I had been told such things, but I always believed that such a custom had to be a myth - for Gor is a ruthless place, and the word for a stranger is the same as the word for an enemy. Yet I saw it now, in Sabine and Kyra, the two dueling kajirae of Gaius Terio. And now, I believed it.

[Astrakhan]