again to my back. I looked up at the ceiling.
The effects of the wine I had had for supper were still with me. I think it may
have been drugged.
It was not easy to sort things out. I had had a strange dream, mixed in with
other dreams.
“I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” I had said to Ligurious, in the palanquin. “Of
course,” he had said.
How can I be the Tatrix of Corcynis, I asked myself. Does this make any sense?
Is it not all madness? I could understand how women could be brought to this
world to be put in collars and made slaves, like -Susan, for example, and
doubtless others. That was comprehensible. But why would one be brought here to
rule a city? Surely such positions of privilege and power these Goreans would
reserve for themselves. The more typical position for an Earth girl, I suspected
to find herself at the feet of a master. I wondered if I were truly the Tatrix
of Corcyrus. Surely I had seldom exercised significant authority. Too, at times,
my schedule seemed a bit erratic or strange. At certain Alin I was expected to
be in the public rooms of the palace and, at others, even at the ringing of
palace time bars, for no reason I clearly understood, I was expected to be in my
quarters.
“Certain traditions customarily govern the calendar of the Tatrix,” Ligurious
had informed me. At certain times I bad been conducted to my quarters I bad
thought that sessions of important councils had been scheduled, councils at
whose sessions it would be natural to expect the presence of the Tatrix. The
matters to be discussed in certain of these meetings, however, I had learned
from Ligurious, were actually too trivial to warrant the attention of the
Tatrix. Thus it was not necessary that I attend. In certain other cases, I was
informed, the meetings had been postponed or canceled. Protocols and customs are
apparently extremely significant to Goreans. What seemed to me inexplicable
oddities or apparent caprices in my schedule were usually explained by reference
to such things. It is fitting that the proprieties of torcyrus be respected by
her Tatrix, even when they might appear arbitrary, had said Ligurious.
I looked up at the ceiling, in the hot Corcyran night.
Was I the Tatrix of Corcyrus?
Susan, I was sure, believed me to be the Tatrix. of Corcyrus. So, too, I was
confident, did my bodyguard, Drusus Rencius, once of Ar.
Too, I had not been challenged in the matter in my audiences, my public
appearances, or even in court. By all, it seemed, I was accepted as the Tatrix
of Corcyrus. Ligurious, first minister of the city, even, had assured me of the
reality of this dignity. And had I wished further confirmation of my condition
and status surely I had received it earlier today, from the very citizens of
Corcyrus itself. “Hail Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrusl” they had cried.
“I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” I had told Ligurious. “Of course.” he had said.
Inexplicable and strange though it might seem, I decided that I was, truly, the
Tatrix of Corcyrus.
I closed my eyes and then opened them. I shook my head, briefly. The effects of
the wine I had had for supper were stin with me. I think that it might have been
drugged. What purpose could have been served by such an action, however, I had
no idea.
I bad had a strange dream, mixed in with other dreams.
I whimpered on the great couch, lying in the heat of the Corcyran night.
I was Tatrix.
How extraordinary and marvelous this was! Too, I was not insensitive to the
emoluments and perquisites of this office, to the esteem and prestige that might
attend it, to the glory that might be expected to be its consequence, to the
wealth and power which, doubtless, sometime, would prove to be its inevitable
attachments.
In office, clearly, I acknowledged to myself, I was a Tatrix.
I wondered, however, if there was a Tatrix within me, or something else.
I forced from my mind, angrily, the memory of the girls in brief tunics,
The effects of the wine I had had for supper were still with me. I think it may
have been drugged.
It was not easy to sort things out. I had had a strange dream, mixed in with
other dreams.
“I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” I had said to Ligurious, in the palanquin. “Of
course,” he had said.
How can I be the Tatrix of Corcynis, I asked myself. Does this make any sense?
Is it not all madness? I could understand how women could be brought to this
world to be put in collars and made slaves, like -Susan, for example, and
doubtless others. That was comprehensible. But why would one be brought here to
rule a city? Surely such positions of privilege and power these Goreans would
reserve for themselves. The more typical position for an Earth girl, I suspected
to find herself at the feet of a master. I wondered if I were truly the Tatrix
of Corcyrus. Surely I had seldom exercised significant authority. Too, at times,
my schedule seemed a bit erratic or strange. At certain Alin I was expected to
be in the public rooms of the palace and, at others, even at the ringing of
palace time bars, for no reason I clearly understood, I was expected to be in my
quarters.
“Certain traditions customarily govern the calendar of the Tatrix,” Ligurious
had informed me. At certain times I bad been conducted to my quarters I bad
thought that sessions of important councils had been scheduled, councils at
whose sessions it would be natural to expect the presence of the Tatrix. The
matters to be discussed in certain of these meetings, however, I had learned
from Ligurious, were actually too trivial to warrant the attention of the
Tatrix. Thus it was not necessary that I attend. In certain other cases, I was
informed, the meetings had been postponed or canceled. Protocols and customs are
apparently extremely significant to Goreans. What seemed to me inexplicable
oddities or apparent caprices in my schedule were usually explained by reference
to such things. It is fitting that the proprieties of torcyrus be respected by
her Tatrix, even when they might appear arbitrary, had said Ligurious.
I looked up at the ceiling, in the hot Corcyran night.
Was I the Tatrix of Corcyrus?
Susan, I was sure, believed me to be the Tatrix. of Corcyrus. So, too, I was
confident, did my bodyguard, Drusus Rencius, once of Ar.
Too, I had not been challenged in the matter in my audiences, my public
appearances, or even in court. By all, it seemed, I was accepted as the Tatrix
of Corcyrus. Ligurious, first minister of the city, even, had assured me of the
reality of this dignity. And had I wished further confirmation of my condition
and status surely I had received it earlier today, from the very citizens of
Corcyrus itself. “Hail Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrusl” they had cried.
“I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus,” I had told Ligurious. “Of course.” he had said.
Inexplicable and strange though it might seem, I decided that I was, truly, the
Tatrix of Corcyrus.
I closed my eyes and then opened them. I shook my head, briefly. The effects of
the wine I had had for supper were stin with me. I think that it might have been
drugged. What purpose could have been served by such an action, however, I had
no idea.
I bad had a strange dream, mixed in with other dreams.
I whimpered on the great couch, lying in the heat of the Corcyran night.
I was Tatrix.
How extraordinary and marvelous this was! Too, I was not insensitive to the
emoluments and perquisites of this office, to the esteem and prestige that might
attend it, to the glory that might be expected to be its consequence, to the
wealth and power which, doubtless, sometime, would prove to be its inevitable
attachments.
In office, clearly, I acknowledged to myself, I was a Tatrix.
I wondered, however, if there was a Tatrix within me, or something else.
I forced from my mind, angrily, the memory of the girls in brief tunics,
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