“She has trim ankles,” said Desmond. “They shackle well.”
“Would you not like, kajira,” said Trachinos, “to have a pretty anklet? You might then be the envy of your sister slaves.”
I did know such things, an anklet, a bracelet, an armlet, could be prized amongst kajirae.
“It will be done with me,” I said, “as masters please.”
He then released my ankle, and I hurried away.
“Paga!” he called to Jane.
“Yes, Master,” she said, hurrying to him.
The men continued to converse, about many things, things of interest to men, techniques of hunting, the best seasons and terrains, the politics of mighty Ar, the taverns of Venna, the Vennan races, the breeds of tharlarion, the kaiila and slaves they had owned, and such.
Jane, Eve, and I knelt in the background, close enough to be easily summoned, far enough away to be unobtrusive.
I had tried, in my serving, to catch the eye of Master Desmond, to avoid the eye of Master Trachinos.
As the evening wore on one or another of the hunters cast us a glance. I became more and more aware that the Lady Bina had retired.
“Do your girls dance?” asked Kleomenes.
I was startled. I had never thought of dancing, certainly not as a woman might dance before Gorean males.
I wondered what it might be, commanded, to dance before such males, and as a slave.
“Ela,” said Astrinax, woefully, “no. They are all ignorant barbarians.”
“Barbarians?” said Kleomenes.
“They are cheap,” said Astrinax.
“Some barbarians are quite expensive,” said Kleomenes.
“These were cheap,” said Astrinax.
“What of their use?” asked Kleomenes.
“They are owned by the lady,” said Astrinax, “and I fear she has retired.”
“Well,” said Kleomenes, pleasantly, “there are many such vulos in Venna.”
“You are returning to Venna then,” said Astrinax.
“Early,” said Kleomenes, “probably before you rise.”
“What of the meat?” asked Astrinax.
“Some we will put over our saddles,” said Kleomenes, “some we will leave for you. We will break the tusks loose from the jaws. The tusks of Voltai tarsk sell well in Venna.”
“You are professional hunters then,” said Astrinax.
“No,” said Kleomenes, “we hunt for the sport, the chase, the kill.”
“It is a dangerous sport,” said Astrinax.
“So, then,” said Kleomenes, “it races the blood, it sharpens the eye, and is thus, for that, the better sport.”
“And the tusks sell well,” said Trachinos.
“That, too, noble friend,” said Kleomenes.
“Possibly there are even more dangerous sports,” said Desmond of Harfax.
“Possibly,” said Kleomenes.
“I fear it is late,” said Lykos, “and we, too, must depart early.”
“You are proceeding then?” said Kleomenes.
“I think so,” said Astrinax.
“Then we shall wish you well,” said Kleomenes.
“And we, you,” said Astrinax.
“We have,” said Kleomenes, “a rare liqueur of Turia, which we were saving for the night of victory, the celebration of a successful hunt.”
“This night, then?” said Desmond of Harfax.
“Why not?” said Kleomenes.
“What liqueur?” asked Trachinos.
“That of Falnus,” said Kleomenes.
“Aii!” said Trachinos.
“You know the liqueur?” asked Kleomenes.
“I am from Turia,” said Trachinos.
“I understand,” said Master Desmond, “it is known even in Teletus.”
“It is worth a golden tarsk in Ar,” said Trachinos.
At a sign from Kleomenes one of his men left the fire, to seek the vicinity of their packs.
Shortly thereafter he appeared in the firelight bearing a small flask, sealed with golden cord.
The seal was undone, and Kleomenes handed the flask to Astrinax.
“It is your victory, your hunt celebration,” said Master Desmond. “You should drink first.”
“But you are our hosts, and it is our gift to you, to share this rarity with you,” said Kleomenes.
“Nonetheless,” said Desmond of Harfax, politely.
“Very well,” said Kleomenes, and drank from the flask.
“Give it to me,” said Trachinos.
He received the flask.
“Do not drink it all,” warned Astrinax.
The flask was then handed about, amongst the masters, the hunters, and those of our party.
“Ah!” cried Astrinax.
“It is from the house of Falnus,” Kleomenes reminded us. “Raiders of the Wagon Peoples sometimes raid Turian caravans for this, and, of course, Turian women, to be put in the chatka and curla, the kalmak, and a nose ring.”
I understood little of this. I gathered it had to do with a garmenture in which slaves might be kept. I did understand the concept of a nose ring.
“Superb,” said Lykos.
“Quite good,” said Desmond of Harfax.
Even taciturn Akesinos, who had scarcely spoken the entire evening, seemed pleased.
“And you,” said Kleomenes, rising to his feet, stumbling a little, “the three of you, pretty kajirae, put your hands down on your thighs, put your heads back, far, and open your mouths, widely!”
“Master!” we cried, gratefully.
How fortunate we were, how privileged, how generous the master! Many free persons, doubtless, had never tasted a Turian liqueur, not to speak of that of Falnus.
“Enough, enough,” said Kleomenes.
“Thank you, Master!” we breathed.
It was like a sweet, burning drop of liquid fire, flavored with flower herbs and, detectably, tospit and larma.
Warm words of pleasant parting were exchanged, and the hunters withdrew to their camp, and tethered tharlarion.
“I will shackle you for the night,” said Desmond of Harfax.
I tried to press myself against him, but he thrust me away.
He turned about. “Come along,” he said.
I stumbled.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “I am unsteady.”
He leaned against the side of the wagon. Then he struck his fist against the wood.
“Astrinax!” he called. “Lykos! Trachinos, Akesinos!”
There was no reply.
He clutched the side of the wagon, trying to hold himself upright.
