'Stay in line!' chided an officer.
But the fellow, I think, uttering accessions, covered with sand, needed no further encouragement. He swiftly, gratefully, took his place in one of the long lines.
The loss of men to quicksand was rare now, given the lines, in the first days in the delta over two hundred men had been lost, in one case an entire platoon. Several others, unaccounted for, may also have been victims of the treacherous sand.
'Move,' called the fellow behind me.
'On my back,' I said, 'I can feel it! A leech! Take it off!'
'You can be covered with them, spying sleen,' snarled the man, 'for all I care.'
'I ask that it be removed,' I said.
'Do not fear,' said the fellow. 'They are only hungry. When they have their fill, they will drop off.'
'Here is another,' said a fellow wading near me, holding up its wet, half-flattened, twisting body in his hand. It was some four inches long, a half inch thick.
'There are probably a great many of them here,' said the fellow, dropping it back in the water.
I shuddered.
'Do not approach the boat,' warned the fellow behind me.
I shuddered again. I felt another such creature on my leg, high, in the back.
'Ho, hold!' cried a man, high on a platform, set on the bow of one of the barges. He could, from that coign of vantage, look over the rence. 'There!' he cried. 'A covered barge, ahead!' An officer climbed up beside him. He shaded his eyes. 'Yes, lads,' he called down. 'A barge! Not one of ours! We are on them now!'
There were cheers, from perhaps a thousand voices.
'Forward, lads!' cried other officers. 'Forward!'
Men pressed forward.
I could hear cheers from far behind me now, so swiftly had the word spread through the rence.
'There,' cried the man behind me. 'The pursuit draws to a close. The vengeance of Ar is at hand!'
My neck was sore.
'Now soon, sleen,' gloated he, 'will you see your Cosian masters beneath our blades!'
I stood unsteadily in the water. I could feel the leeches on my body, one on my back, another on my leg. Then, shuddering, I felt yet another. It was fastening itself near the first, on my back.
'Pull,' ordered the fellow behind me.
Again I drew the craft forward, straining against the rope, it cutting into the side of my neck.
The sun was high overhead now.
We made little progress, it seemed, in closing the gap between ourselves and the alleged barge ahead. From time to time it was sighted again.
The men of Ar, in their boats, and wading, after a time, began to sing. The marsh echoed with their songs.
'What barge is that?' I asked, suddenly.
It, gliding by, poled by several men, seemed an apparition in the marsh. It was purple, and gilded, its bow in the graceful shape of the neck and head of a long-necked, sharp-billed gant, its stern carved to represent feathers, It had an open, golden cabin, covered with translucent golden netting. The poles propelling the craft were golden. Such a vessel made a startling, unconscionable contrast with the meanness, that wretched, ragged, numerous miscellany, of other craft about. Certainly it belonged not in the delta but in some canal or placid waterway.
'She wants to be in on the kill,' said a fellow.
'She?' I said.
'Ina, Lady of Ar,' said a fellow.
' 'Ina',' I said, 'that could be the name of a slave.' Such names, 'Ina', 'Ita', 'Tuna', 'Tula', 'Di', 'Lita' and such, are common slave names. They, and many such names, are worn by hundreds of women in bondage. Earth-girl names, such as 'Shirley', 'Linda', 'Jane', and such, are also commonly used as slave names. One girl, of course, may, from time to time, have many different names, according to the whim of her master, or masters. She is a domestic animal, to be named as the master pleases.
'That is no slave,' said a fellow.
'No,' laughed another, perhaps ruefully.
'That is Ina, Lady of Ar,' said a man, 'attached to the staff of Saphronicus, a political observer, said to be a confidant of, and to report to, the Lady Talena, of Ar, herself.'
'Where is the barge of Saphronicus?' I asked.
'It is back there, somewhere, doubtless,' said a man.
'Doubtless,' I said.
'Other vessels pass you,' said a man.
'Pull!' ordered the fellow behind me.
Again I put my weight against the rope, once more moving the sodden craft forward.
10 Morale is High
'Lie still,' said the fellow crouching next to me.
I shuddered, lying in the sand. The reaction was uncontrollable, involuntary, reflexive.
'Still,' he said. He held the bit of rence stalk, still smoking from the fire, to one of the creatures on my back. I could feel it pulling out of my skin. He then picked it from my back, dropping it to the side, with others.
I did not know how much blood I had lost, though I suppose, objectively, it was not much. How much can one of those creatures, even given the hideous distention of its digestive cavity, hold? Yet there had been many during the day. Many had released their hold themselves.
'That is the last one,' observed the fellow, turning me about.
'My thanks,' I said.
He had removed, by my count, eleven of the creatures. He had put them to the side. There are various ways in which they may be encouraged to draw out, not tearing the skin. The two most common are heat and salt. It is not wise, once they have succeeded in catching hold, to apply force to them. In this fashion, too often part of the creature is left in the body, a part, or parts, which must then be removed with a knife or similar tool.
'Bring a torch, here!' I heard a fellow call.
I was again, as was done with me at night, tethered between mooring stakes, my ankles to one, my neck to another. My wrists were held behind me, in the manacles.
'Friend,' I said.
'I am not your friend,' said he. 'I am your enemy.' He stood up, discarding the smoking rence.
'Call your officer to me,' I said. 'I would speak with him.'
'That is for your keeper to do,' said he, 'not me.'
'Ho!' called a fellow from a few yards away. 'Look!'
'Kill it!' cried a fellow, joyfully.
'Here, help me!' said another. I heard the sounds of two or three men.
'What is it?' I asked, turning in the sand, looking up.
'It is a marsh turtle, a large one,' said the fellow, 'come up on the bar.'
'Why would it do that?' I asked. 'There are men here, many of them.'
'Now they have it confused, with fire and spears,' reported the man, standing beside me. 'It does not know which way to turn'.'
'Why is it not retreating to the water?' I asked, alarmed.
'It does not know which way to turn,' he said. 'They have it surrounded now. It is not moving now, it is in its shell now!'
'Together, men!' I heard.
There was a hissing sound, the grunting of men.
'They have it on its back now,' said the fellow, pleased. 'For once we shall eat well in the delta.'
