“It is not mine,” said Thurnock.
“Did you have a double tarn with you?” I asked him.
“Yes,” said Thurnock. He fished about in his pouch. Then he reddened. The men laughed.
I tossed Thurnock the coin.
I regarded Tina. “You are a lovely little thief,” I said. “Turn your back to me.” She did so.
I took up the cord with which she had bound in her slave tunic.
I looped it twice about her belly, and jerked it tight, tying it.
She gasped. “Do you permit me the cord,” she asked, “that I may more easily conceal what I steal?” “No,” I said. “I permit it to you that men may more easily note your beauty.” This time lovely Tina, beneath her tan, from the wharves of Lydius, blushed red, and put her head down.
I lifter her head, and took her in my arms. She trembled. I kissed her upon the lips. Her body, that of a white-silk girl, fresh to the collar, was terribly frightened. Not releasing her, I looked upon her. She lifted her lips delicately to mine, those of her master, and kissed them. Her eyes were frightened. “If I do not return, with the Ahn, what I steal,” she asked, “what will be done with me?” “For the first offense,” I said, “your left hand will be removed.” She struggled to escape my arms.
“For the second offense,” I said, “your right hand will be removed.” Her eyes were but inches from mine, dark, dilated, filled with terror. “Do you understand?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“You are slave,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
I kissed her again, deeply, pressing back her head. Then I released her. She stood facing me, her hand before her mouth, small, beautiful in the brief, tightly corded slave garment. I noted that Sheera, carrying a bowl, standing nearby, did not seem much pleased.
I indicated Tina. To my men I said, “You may taste her lips.”
They eagerly reached for her, and, kissing her, handed her from one to the next. When she had been passed about the circle, stumbling, her hair across her eyes, the fillet gone, she stood again before me. She was breathing deeply. She was partly bent over. She looked up at me. She was not weeping. Then she stood straight, and, shoulders back, smoothed down the brief slave garment. The men laughed.
“Do not forget you are a slave,” I told her.
“I shall not, “ she said.
Then, as the men laughed, she turned about and went to the kitchen area, they parting, permitting her beauty to pass between them unopposed.
I thought she walked rather well.
I thought Tina would prove popular in the camp.
I and my men, save the posted guards, sat about the fire on the beach, within the wall, not far from the inclining hull of the Tesephone.
Sheera knelt before me, her head down, resting back on her heels, her arms extended to me, proffering me, in the manner of the Gorean slave girl, the wine bowl.
I took it, dismissing her.
“When will we return to the forests?” asked Rim. He sat beside me. He was served by Cara.
“Not immediately,” I said. “First, I wish to arrange for the comforts of my men, those remaining at the camp.” “Is there time?” asked Rim.
“I think so,” I said. “We know the approximate location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. Marlenus does not. He still hunts in the vicinity of Laura.” “You are a patient man,” said Rim.
“Patience,” I told him, “ is a virtue of merchants.”
I held forth the wine bowl that Sheera, from a large wine crater, might refill it.
“Patience, too,” said Rim, “is a characteristic of players of the Game, and of certain warriors.” “Perhaps,” I said, and quaffed the wine.
“I myself,” said he, ruefully, “am less patient.”
“Tomorrow,” I told him, “you will go to Laura, trekking downriver. Arrange for four paga slaves, the most beautiful you can find in Laura, to be sent to our camp. Then, when these arrangements are made, return. The girls may follow you.” “There are men of Tyros in Laura,” said Rim, looking down into his small wine bowl, cradled in the palm of his right hand.
“We are simple traders, dealers in fur and hide,” I told him, “from the island of Tabor.” “True,” smiled Rim.
“I cannot wait,” said Thurnock, “until we can again enter the forests!” I looked at him. “Thurnock,” I said, “I need a man here, an officer I can trust, one to maintain the camp, one to command shrewdly in my absence.” “No!” boomed Thurnock.
“It is my wish, my friend,” I said to him.
Thurnock looked down. “Yes, my captain,” said he.
I stood up. “It is time for the exhibition I promised you,” I said. “Tina! Come here!” She had been serving, too. Now she sped to my side.
“Build up he fire,” I said. It was done.
The interior of the camp was now ell illuminated. “Can you all see clearly?” I asked.
There were sounds of assent. Even Sheera and Cara came close, to watch. “Note,” said Tina. “Can you feel this?” she put her fingers at the pouch worn at my belt.
I was disappointed. “Yes,” I said. “That was clumsy.”
Her first finger, followed by her thumb, had slipped within the neck of the pouch, forcing apart the strings which held it shut, and emerged, holding a coin. It had been done neatly, but I had felt the tug of the strings. “I felt it,” I told her.
“Of course,” she said.
I looked at her, puzzled.
She handed me back the coin, and I returned it to the pouch. I was not much pleased.
“It may always be felt,” she said, “if one is paying attention.”
“I had though you more skillful,” I said.
“Do not be angry with me, Master,” she wheedled. She put herself against me, and with her left hand about my waist, tugged at the side of my tunic, and lifted her lips to mine. I kissed her lightly, and them put her back from me. She handed me the coin a second time.
I laughed.
There was much applause from the men, and, too, from Sheera and Cara. “That time,” said Tina,” you did not feel it.” “No,” I said, “I did not.” “And yet it is the same thing,” she said, “which is done.” My look of puzzlement delighted her. She was much pleased. She turned to the others, not me, to explain what had been done.
“He was distracted,” she said. “One must always distract the attention. I did it by tugging at his tunic, where he would notice it, and by kissing him. We pay attention, commonly, to one thing at a time. The theft is there to be felt, but one does not feel it, because one is not intent on feeling it. One’s attention is elsewhere. One may also deflect the attention by a word, or a glance somewhere. One may sometime lead the individual to expect an attack in one area, and then strike in another.” “She should be a general,” grumbled Thurnock. Tina looked quickly at him. He slid backward in the sand.:Stay away from me!” he cried.
The men laughed.
“You, Master,” said Tina, to a handsome young seaman, who wore a wristlet studded with purplish stone, amethysts from Schendi, “would you be so kind as to rise and come forward.” He stood before her, appreciatively, but warily.
“You kissed me this afternoon,” she told him. “Please do so again.” “Very well,” he agreed.
“But guard your pouch,” said she.
“I shall,” said he.
He put his hands at her waist, and bent, carefully, to kiss her.
She stood on her tiptoes, and lifted her lips eagerly to his.
When they parted, he reached for his pouch. He grinned. “You did not obtain my pouch!” he laughed.
“Here is your wristlet,” said Tina, handing him the amethyst-studded wristlet. There was much laughter.
I and perhaps one or two of the others had seen her unbuckle it, deftly, lightly, with one hand, while his hand was at her waist. Most of those at the fire were as startled as the handsome young seaman when they saw the wristlet in Tina’s hand.
We gave her much applause.
Chagrined, but laughing, the young man rebuckled the wristlet, and went and sat down by the fire.
“Master,” said Tina.
He looked up.
“Your pouch,” she said, throwing it at him.
There was much more laughter.
“It is not always easy to unknot a pouch,” I told her.
“That is true,” she admitted. She looked at me, and smiled. “The strings, of course,” she said, “might be cut.” I laughed ruefully. I well recalled how well she had robbed me in our first acquaintance on the wharves of Lydius.
“Rim has been kind enough,” she said, ”from the blade of an old shaving knife to supply a suitable implement.” Rim, from his own pouch, handed up to her a tiny steel half crescent, ground from the blade of a shaving knife. Part of it, wrapped in physician’s tape, was bent and fitted behind her first two fingers. The blade, as it projected from between her two fingers, was almost invisible.
“Master?” asked Tina.
I got to my feet, determined not to be fooled. But when Tina stumbled against me, before I realized it, neatly, the purse strings had been cut.
“Excellent,” I told her. I reknotted the strings, tying them together. I would have a new purse tomorrow.
“Do you think you could do it again?” I asked.
