The Chieftan

“And what is that?” he asked.

“A slave, Master,” she said.

“And what sort of slave?” he asked.

“A loving slave who would serve you with every bit of herself, with her whole body, her whole heart, with all that she is, and ever hopes to be!”

“Clever slave,” he sneered.

“Master?” she asked.

“Lying slave!” he cried.

He cuffed her.

She struggled to her knees, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked at him and felt, suddenly, a wave of fear, and hatred, and misery, and desire, and helplessness.

“I have strange feelings!” she wept. “I cannot help myself! Treat me then, if you wish, as a hated, despised woman. Abuse me! Are you dissatisfied with me? Have I displeased you? Make me pay! Make me pay well! Ravish me. Subdue me. Teach me I am a woman. Leave me in no doubt as to the matter. Make me beg for more. But attend to me! Do not ignore me!”

“And what are these feelings?” he asked.

“I think — I think that I am in — in heat, Master,” she said.

“Yes,” he sneered. “Even a woman such as you, one so vain, so petty, so meaningless, so contemptible, with a disk on her neck, will find herself in heat!”

But then once again her helplessness, her vulnerability, her love, overcame her. “I am yours, totally, Master,” she said. “Please be kind to me, my master,” she begged.

He rose from the chair and went to the portal of the hut. “Janina!” he called. “Janina!”

In a few moments, summoned, Janina appeared at the portal.

He indicated the brunette, now on her hands and knees, on the rushes, before the chieftain’s chair.

“Get this slut from my sight!” he said. “Cage her!”

Janina rushed to a side of the hut and seized up a switch and ran to the brunette. She lashed down at her with the switch, and the brunette cried out in misery. “Get out! Get out!” said Janina.

The brunette fled from the hut, switched.

“That way!” said Janina. “There! Down on all fours!”

“Yes, Mistress!” wept the brunette.

“Get in it!” said Janina.

A stroke of the switch hastened the entry of the brunette into the heavy but tiny cage. She turned about, on her knees, within, to see the door flung shut and the two padlocks, heavy, flung on the hasps, over the staples, and snapped shut.

The brunette, kneeling, clutched the bars, looking up at Janina.

“Earlier you smiled at me, when you thought to be alone with the master,” said Janina, angrily. “Now I smile at you!”

“Forgive me, Mistress!” said the brunette.

“Janina!” called the chieftain, and the slave ran to him.

In her cage the brunette lay down. It was cold. She wept.

CHAPTER 20

At the rude table in the chieftain’s hut sat four men, Otto, the chieftain, his principal advisors, wily, cynical, pessimistic, Astubux and stalwart, sage Axel, and the ensign, Julian, he of the Aurelianii.

In the back of the hut a blond girl, who had once been a salesgirl on the Alaria, and whose name was ‘Ellen,’ that name now having been put upon her as a slave name, and another slave, one as yet unnamed, a brunette, knelt before their first girl, who was standing, whose name was Janina. Another slave, the only other slave in the village, was in the hut of Axel, lying naked on the furs, as she had been ordered, awaiting the return of her master. Her name was ‘Oona,’ that name having been put on her as a slave name.

“The meal is prepared,” said Janina. “It is now time to serve it.”

“We know nothing of pleasing men,” said Ellen to Janina.

“Please teach us, Mistress,” said the brunette.

“The main thing is to be the slaves you are,” said Janina to the two young women.

“Bring food,” said the chieftain.

“Yes, Master,” responded Janina.

Janina was in the modest garb of the Wolfung woman, with its long sleeves, its high neck, and its long skirt, down about her ankles. Her two charges, however, the blonde and the brunette, were in improvised kebs, that form of garment in which Janina herself had been exhibited at the stake, during the contest on the Alaria.

“Put forth the trenchers,” said Janina.

Her two charges rose up and, each taking two trenchers, went to the table, to begin the serving.

The brunette dared not meet the eyes of the ensign, though she sensed them upon her, idly, as a man’s glance may peruse a slave, appraising her.

Astubux reached out and touched the hand of the blonde, who put the trencher before him.

She drew her hand back, frightened, but then, quickly, put it forth again, that he might touch her, if he wished, for she was slave.

Too, she trembled, a little. She was an intelligent woman and was not unaware that Astubux had several times looked upon her.

When the free men had come to the hut, Janina, head bowed, had welcomed them. The lower serving slaves, in their revealing kebs, had knelt, putting their heads down to the rush-strewn floor of the hut. When the ensign had entered, unaccompanied, his ankles no longer shackled, clad now in a rough cloth tunic, the brunette had looked up at him, and then, quickly, put down her head. She had blushed scarlet. It was the first time he had seen her thusly, as a slave.

“You do not have a radio?” said the ensign to the chieftain.

“No,” said Otto. “But the Drisriaks, the Ortungs, will have a radio. Do you think you could use it?”

“I think so,” said the ensign. “Their radios may even be stolen radios of the empire, or copies of such designs. At the very least I should be able to transmit some sort of primitive message.”

“Drink,” said Otto, lifting a drinking horn.

The brunette, head down, hastened to serve him.

Otto drained the drinking horn. He put it to one side.

“Your plan seems to depend on many variables,” said the ensign.

“On some, and on honor,” said the chieftain.

“Honor is a frail reed on which to rest hopes,” said the ensign.

“We are not dealing with those of the empire,” said Otto.

“Once we knew honor,” said the ensign.

“Timing is important,” said Otto. “We must buy time. It is certain that the Drisriaks will not accept the secession of the Ortungs.”

“Your plan is to buy such time with what you call ‘the challenge’?” asked the ensign.

“Yes,” said Otto.

Otto regarded the brunette. She was beautiful in the keb, barefoot on the rush- strewn floor of the hut. Timidly, questioningly, she lifted the vessel she carried, just a little, that from which the drinking horn might be replenished. But he looked away from her.

“Things might be much speeded up if a radio signal could be sent,” said the ensign.

“Precisely,” said Otto.

“What is a radio?” asked Astubux.

“It is a device,” said the ensign, “which enables one to speak to those who are far away.”