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But we would not hear that screaming, for, when it was done, she would be below, and far away, in the pens. I dismissed her from my mind, for she was a slave. Her history as a free woman had terminated; her history as an embonded beauty had begun. Samos, the ribbon freed from the spear's shaft, the spear retrieved by the guardsman, looked down at the table, at the ribbon, which now seemed only a ribbon, with meaningless marks. "Greetings to Tarl Cabot," I said, recalling the message. "I await you at the world's end. Zarendargar. - (Beasts of Gor)