'Who then?' I asked. I noted a slave passing by in the street, the lower portion of her body in shadows, the upper portion bright in the late afternoon sun. She was shading her eyes. Her collar was close-fitting. Her dark hair fell about it. She was probably on an errand. A coin sack was tied about her neck. Some slaves are not allowed to touch money. Many, on the other hand, on errands, carry coins in their mouth. This however, is not unusual on Gor, even for free persons. Gorean garments generally lack pockets. She was barefoot. She moved well. In time, I supposed, the former Lady Lydia, whom I had left behind me in one of Tenalion's pens, one of his newer acquisitions, would be put on the block and sold, and would then, eventually, in one city or other, probably not Ar, find herself only such a girl. Such slaves are not allowed outside the city gates, unless accompanied by a free person. I recalled how the former Lady Lydia had showed me her brand. It had been an excellent one, a lovely one. How pleased she had been that that was the case. I smiled. Slave girls are so vain about their brands.
'Soldiers,' he said.
'What?' I said. I felt suddenly alert. This seemed, suddenly, a serious business.
'Soldiers,' he repeated, looking about himself.
'City Guardsmen?' I asked.
'No,' he said, 'soldiers.'
'Taurentians?' I asked.
'No,' he said. 'Soldiers.'
'What do they want with me?' I asked.
'I do not know,' he said.
'Did you ask?' I asked.
'Yes,' he said.
'What did they say?' I asked.
'Nothing,' he said. 'They only wanted to know when you would return.' 'What did you tell them?' I said.
'I told them I did not know.' He said.
'How long have they been there?' I asked.
'Only a little while,' he said. I found that of interest. Planned arrests are normally made at dawn.
'Why are you informing me of this?' I asked.
'You are a tenant,' he said. 'Too, you have paid your rent. Too, I do not want any arrests made in my insula. That might be bad for its reputation.'
'Thank you,' I said. I pressed a coin into his hand.
'That is not necessary,' he said, but took it. He was, after all, a businessman. 'You are Tarl of Port Kar?' asked a man.
'Aiii!' moaned Achiates.
'Yes,' I said, 'Captain.'
'May I have your sword, please?' he inquired. There were now some fifteen or twenty fellows behind him. There was not much room in the doorway to draw, let alone to wield the weapon. Yet I was not covered by crossbows. Too, none of the men had lowered their spears or drawn their weapons.
'On what grounds?' I asked. 'You are under arrest.' He said.
Achiates moaned.
'You may leave, Citizen,' the fellow informed Achiates. Achiates then, like an urt, spotting an opening between sleen, darted away, hurrying toward the insula. 'Your sword, please,' said the captain. Surely he realized men do not lightly surrender their weapons. Too, clearly he must realize that I could force myself from the doorway, and, in an instant, be in the open, the blade free. I wondered if it were his intent to encourage such a movement on my part, in order that this might provide a plausible, legitimizing circumstance for the employment of their own weapons. But I really did not think so. They could always attack, surely now that Achiates was gone, and we were alone, as they wished, and fill out their reports, if necessary, in any way they saw fit. In that way they would have risked very little, if anything. Too, they had permitted Achiates to slip away, in spite of the fact that he must have been engaged in the business of warning me. I did not think he was in league with them. If he were he could simply have let me walk into their midst as I entered the vestibule of the insula. Interestingly enough, I did not think the officer was engaged in making a standard arrest. His generous treatment of Achiates suggested this.
Interestingly enough, I did not think he anticipated any resistance.
'Please,' he said.
I handed my blade, in its sheath, the straps wrapped about it, to him.
'Thank you,' he said.
'I do not wish to be bound,' I said.
'That will not be necessary,' he said.
'What is going on here?' asked Hurtha, coming up to us.
'Do not interfere,' I said to Hurtha.
'It appears,' said Hurtha, unshouldering his ax, 'that a battle to the death is in order.'
'Who is this?' asked the captain.
'My friend,' I said.
'Greetings,' said the captain to him.
'Greetings,' said Hurtha. Hurtha was a friendly Alar. He was not one of the suspicious, remote, aloof ones. He enjoyed being on good terms with fellows he was preparing to fight to the death.
'Where are we going?' I asked the captain.
'To an arranged place,' he said, 'one of secrecy.'
'There?' said Hurtha.
'Yes,' said the captain.
Hurtha, too, I suspected, had not had a great deal of sleep last night.
'And what is to occur there,' I asked, 'In this place of secrecy?' 'One awaits you there,' he said.
'Who?' I asked.
'An august personage,' he said.
'Who?' I asked.
'His excellency, Gnieus Lelius, regent of Ar,' he said.
'I am coming with you,' said Hurtha.
'He is to come alone,' said the captain.
'Look after Feiqa,' I said to Hurtha.
'Do not think you can rid yourself of a tenacious comrade so easily,' said Hurtha. 'I am an Alar.'
'Please,' I said, 'do not make things harder for me.'
'I refuse to be left behind,' he said.
'Please,' I said. 'This is hard enough. You must try to understand.' 'Consider all we have been through,' he said.
'Hurtha,' I pleaded. I did not wish to weep. I put the two silver tarsks I had received for the blonde in his hand.
'Where did you get these?' he asked.
'I sold something,' I said.
'Was it pretty?' asked Hurtha.
'Yes,' I said, 'very pretty.'
'Not Feiqa?' he asked.
'No,' I said.
'But consider another candidate for the collar, one you came across, somewhere, one for whom the collar is fitting, perhaps, as for Feiqa?' he asked.
'Yes,' I said. 'That is true.'
'Well, farewell,' said Hurtha.
'Farewell?' I said.
'Yes,' said Hurtha.
'Shall we go?' asked the captain.
