needs unobjectionable, even pleasant.”
“She is worthless, utterly despicable,” he said.
“Strange then,” I said, “that she would be thought fit for a
“As a slave!” he said.
“Of course,” I said. “As what else?”
“I find her of not the least interest,” he said.
“Even on Earth,” I said, “you wanted her naked, in your collar.”
“No!” he said. “No!”
“And you want her now,” I said.
“No!” he said.
“At your feet, yours, helpless, in your collar, your slave,” I said.
“No!” he cried.
“No?” I said.
“Her hair is too short,” he said, angrily.
“I grant you that,” I said.
Jane, kneeling near him, took this opportunity to brush back her hood, and arrange her hair more evenly, more attractively, over her shoulders.
Saru had been put on board at night, singly, several Ahn before Lord Okimoto, this morning, had been borne up the ramp.
I wondered if he knew of her existence.
She would doubtless make a lovely gift for a
But Lord Okimoto, I was sure, was no fool.
Lord Nishida might be putting himself at some risk. To be sure, he had a large number of men, swordsmen, glaivesmen, archers, and others, at his disposal. Such cohorts tend to reduce risks, at least in battle. They afford, however, little shelter from the flighted quarrel, the knife cast from the darkness. I had taken it as a foregone conclusion that the unknown assassin of whom Lord Nishida was wary was in the fee of an understood foe, but I supposed that that need not be true. Not all enemies, I recalled, are strangers. In Gorean the saying would literally translate as not all strangers are strangers.
“My question was innocent, and general,” said Pertinax. “Have the slaves been boarded yet?”
“Look behind you, to the east,” I said.
“Ah,” said Pertinax.
The majority of public slaves, or, perhaps better, the slaves without private masters, camp slaves, kitchen slaves, laundry slaves, girls selected for trading and selling, girls from the slave house, and such, would be soon conducted on board. I could see the column forming now, east of the wharf, on the beach. Private slaves were taken on board, for the most part, with their masters.
Most of the men, artisans, storesmen, smiths, tarnsters, Pani, mercenaries, and others, marshaled and hastened by Aetius, had now boarded.
Almost every female slave desires a private master, and, too, hopes to be his only slave.
The slaves to the east would be bound and coffled.
I had seen coffles, and sometimes more than one such linkage, after the fall of cities, which contained fifteen hundred to two thousand women. Needless to say this considerably depresses the market, and it is, accordingly, often the case that these coffles must be broken up and widely dispersed, or marched far afield, sometimes better than a thousand pasangs, to more favorable markets. Sometimes too, the women are kept off the market, sometimes for months, while their owners wait, hoping for better prices. During such times they are exercised and trained, which increases their value. Slavers often buy such women in lots, for pittances, on speculation. Considerations of these sorts, of course, as a matter of economics, appertain to any sort of goods, the value of which is likely to fluctuate according to the condition of the market.
“They are nearly ready,” I said to Pertinax.
“I see,” he said.
The column of camp slaves, and others, had now been formed. Pani were now tying their hands behind their backs, and putting them on a long rope, which was strung from neck to neck. It was thus they would ascend the ramp. They did not know to what they were being taken but neither, too, did other animals already boarded, tarsk and verr.
I heard the sound of chains, heavy chains, strike the ascending ramp, dragging upon it, and looked about. Licinius Lysias of Turmus, who had made the attempt on the life of Lord Nishida during the training exercise, laden with chaining, was being prodded up the ramp by the butt of a Pani glaive. Perhaps unwisely, I had spared him at Tarncamp, that he might have some chance for life. This had doubtless been regarded by Lord Nishida as a woeful indiscretion, if not an act of outright treason. On what grounds, comprehensible to one such as he, might a would- be assassin be freed? Had I been in league with him? I suspected that one of less stature in the camp, one who, say, was not the commander of the cavalry, might have fared rather poorly following such an act. Certainly it gave Lord Nishida excellent grounds for regarding my services with considerable circumspection. And later I had participated in a mysterious interview, on tarnback, over the forest, the nature of which I had been reluctant to disclose. It was not surprising, I supposed, that I was not this morning with the cavalry. In any event, Lord Nishida had sent numerous Pani forth to track and return Licinius to custody. They had discovered him some pasangs from Tarncamp, where, for four or five days, frightened, haggard and starving, he had apparently wandered in circles. He had soon been brought back, back-shackled, on a neck chain. Perhaps I had done Licinius no great favor, considering he seemed ill equipped with forest craft, was seemingly unable to live off the land, hold a direction, elude pursuit, and such. He was presumably less a warrior than a mercenary, and less a mercenary than a brigand. I knew he had sword skills but they would do him little good when, weakened, scarcely able to stand, he would find himself ringed by glaives. Licinius, partway up the ramp, saw me. He stopped for an instant, but did not attempt to address me or communicate in any way. Then he was struck by the butt of the glaive, and thrust rudely upward. Had I turned him over to Lord Nishida he would doubtless have been tortured. The Pani, I gathered, had methods likely to encourage volubility in their informants. Subsequently he was to have been crucified. Now, supposedly in deference to me, he had been spared crucifixion. I did not know if he had been tortured or not. If so, and if Lord Nishida had cared to do away with me, it would have been easy enough for him to extract incriminating testimony from a harried body which would beg to babble whatever might be wished, if only the pain would cease, or the welcomed knife plunged mercifully to the heart. But I had seen nothing in the glance of Licinius which had suggested shame or pleaded for pity and understanding. Accordingly I gathered he had not yet, at any rate, been forced to utter fabrications under duress. I had gathered he was to be chained to a bench, presumably in one of the galleys. Most oarsmen, of course, would be free. Round ships, incidentally, commonly made use of slaves, fastened to the benches, but the long ships, ships of war, commonly relied on free oarsmen, for reasons which, I suppose, are obvious. Many consecutive shifts at the oars, as free oarsmen exchanged positions, would doubtless be imposed on the wearied, aching body of Licinius Lysias of Turmus. I dismissed him from my mind. I had given him, perhaps unwisely, given his treachery and crime, an opportunity for escape and freedom, an opportunity which, as it turned out, he had been unable to turn to his advantage. He was no longer my concern. He was now the prisoner of Lord Nishida. I did not know what his present life might be. Lord Nishida had informed me that many would have preferred crucifixion.
The camp slaves, and others, were now boarding.
Last night hundreds of tarn eggs had been brought aboard, to be nestled in padded containers below decks. These were being chemically incubated, to keep the egg viable. Later, responsive to a second chemical, which might not be administered for months, hatching was to occur. Clearly Lord Nishida’s plans involved tarns beyond those of the present cavalry.
The wind was bitter now, at the river’s edge.
Whistles came from the stern castle of the great ship.
The structures of the camp were now much aflame, and the flames were whipped by the wind.
I could see the mighty, towering frame, which had held the ship of Tersites, was now, too, afire.
“I do not like the direction of the wind,” said Pertinax.
