She laughed. 'Phoebe wants explicitly to be a slave,' she said. 'She scorns to hide her feelings and longs for the legalities which would publicly proclaim her natural condition. I do not think Amina has ever forgotten your kiss, that of a master, when she was helpless at the Crooked Tarn, chained to the outside wall the storm raging. Rimice, the curvaceous little slut, is already more than half a slave, as you know. All, I think it is fair to say, are itching for the touch of masters.'
' 'Itching' ' I asked, amused.
'A slave's expression,' she smiled.
'And you?' I asked. 'Are you «itching» for the touch of a master?'
She leaned forward, her eyes moist, beggingly. 'I am already a slave,' she whispered. 'I do not itch for the touch of a master. Rather I scream and beg for it!'
'They may have all been sold by now.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'They were all choice items,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'You know nothing more of them?' I asked.
'No, Master,' she said. 'But I suppose that they, in one way or another, are still with the camp.'
This seemed to me possible, but it need not be so. When women are sold they may be taken here and there, transported hither and yon, carried about, anywhere, as the articles of property they are.
'Lean back,' I said.
She leaned back, shuddering with need, tears in her eyes, commanded.
I glanced about the paga enclosure of Philebus. The area, circular, of leveled, beaten earth, was about forty yards in diameter. Its fencing was little more than symbolic, a matter of light railings no more than waist high set on tripods. This barrier, such as it is, is dismantled and re-erected, over and over, as the camp moves. There are some tiny, alcovelike tents within the enclosure, mostly just within the perimeter. There were several tiny fires, here and there, within the enclosure. Small fires are usually used in such enclosures, as in camps generally, as they may be quickly extinguished. The girls, slaves, within the enclosure, were not belled. Thus, in the case of an alarm, the entire camp could, at a command, be plunged into darkness and silence, vanishing, so to speak, in the night. Such precautions serve primarily to defend against attacks of tarnsmen. There are often explicit camp rules pertaining to the sizes of fires, as there are for many other things, such as the general ordering of the camp, its defenses, its streets and layout, the location of its facilities, such as infirmaries, commissaries and smithies, the maintenance of security and watches within units, the types of tents permitted, their acceptable occupancy, their spacing and drainage, and provisions for sanitation. The observance of these rules, or ordinances, is usually supervised by, and enforced by, camp marshals. To be sure, this camp was largely one of mercenaries, and, as such, was lax in many of these particulars. It is difficult to impose order and discipline on mercenaries. Too, these men were flushed with victory, after the fall of Ar's Station, to the east. I noted a fellow relieving himself a few yards away, near the railing of the enclosure. In a camp of Ar an infraction of that sort might have earned a fine, or a scourging. Overhead, briefly, against one of the moons, I saw a tarnsman descending toward the camp. As he was alone, he was probably a courier. The patrols are usually composed of two or more tarnsmen. In this way, they will usually prove superior to isolated interlopers and, if need be, one may be dispatched to report or summon aid, while the other, or others, may attend to other duties, perhaps those of a pursuit or search, or maintaining a distant contact with the enemy.
'Paga!' called a fellow, sitting cross-legged, a few yards away. A girl hurried to him, with her vessel of drink.
Survivors of Ar's Station, which had been Ar's major bastion on the Vosk, including many women and children, had been rescued from the piers of the burning port by a fleet of unidentified ships, ships with which the Cosians in the north had not had the forces to deal. Although the identities of these ships were putatively unknown it was an open secret on the river that they were those of Port Cos, supplemented with several apparently furnished by the Vosk League itself. The matter had something to do with a topaz, and a pledge, something going back apparently to affairs which had taken place earlier on the river. At any rate, as it had turned out, the Ubarate of Cos had decided, wisely, in my opinion, to take no official notice of this action. This was presumably out of a respect for the power of Port Cos, and her desire to influence, if not control, through Port Cos, the politics of the Vosk league, and, through it, the river, and the Vosk basin, as a whole. I had been among these survivors. We had been carried to the safety of Port Cos.
There were perhaps a hundred men, here and there, within the enclosure, and some fifteen or twenty girls. The girls filled their vessels, which, like the hydria, or water vessel, are high-handled, for dipping, in a large kettle hung simmering over a fire near the entrance to the enclosure. Warm paga makes one drunk quicker, it is thought. I usually do not like my paga heated, except sometimes on cold nights. This night was not cold, but warm. It was now late spring. Some Cosians tend to be fond of hot paga. So, too, are some of the folks in the more northern islands, interestingly, such as Hunjer and Skjern, west of Torvaldsland. This probably represents an influence from Cos, transmitted through merchants and seamen. In the north generally, mead, a drink made with fermented honey, and water, and often spices and such, tends to be favored over paga.
'Master,' whispered the girl before me.
I looked at her. She had not asked permission to speak. She quickly put down her head. 'Forgive me, Master,' she said. She opened her knees more, frightened, placatingly.
Most of the girls within the enclosure were here and there, serving, or kneeling, waiting to be summoned. Two, naked, were in tiny cages, cramped, hardly able to move. I gathered they were new to their slavery. I did not know how long they bad been kept so. It had perhaps been a day or so. Both, putting their fingers through the close-set bars, which made it hard even to see them, would beg a fellow, I suppose, Philebus, their master, and the owner of the enclosure, as he passed by, to be released, that they might now serve men. It was difficult to tell if he had heard them or not, but once, at least, he must have for he, with his staff, struck the bars of a cage, strictly ordering its fair occupant to silence. 'Yes, Master!' she wept, drawing back, as she could, within it. There were some other girls, too, who were not serving, some five or six, or so. They, in their snatches of slave silk, sat, knelt or lay about a stout post which had been driven deeply into the ground to one side, to which post they were chained by the neck. As more men entered the enclosure women were released from the post to assist in the serving. Also, if one appealed to a fellow, she might be released at his request, to serve him particularly and, if he wished, privately. Temione had been free of the post when I had arrived. I had, however, thinking I had recognized her, and as it proved, I had, summoned her to my place.
I regarded the former proud free woman. She did not dare to raise her eyes. She did, however, trembling before me, make a tiny, piteous, begging sound of need.
'Did you say something?' I asked.
'Forgive me, Master,' she said.
'Did you want something?' I asked.
She lifted her eyes, frightened, pleadingly. 'I desire to serve you,' she whispered.
Interesting, I thought, the transformations which a collar can make in a woman.
'Please, Master,' she begged.
'Very well,' I said, 'you may serve me.'
'Thank you, Master!' she breathed, joyously.
'Bring me paga,' I said.
'Oh!' she wept, in misery. 'Oh, oh.'
I looked at her.
'Yes, Master,' she wept, and rose quickly to her feet, hurrying toward the paga vat.
I watched her withdraw. How lovely she was! How well she moved! What a slave she had become!
The enclosure of Philebus was, in effect, a transportable paga tavern, one so arranged that it might accompany a moving camp.
I watched her waiting, to dip her paga vessel. How attractive, how desirable, how exciting she was! Women look well, in the service of men.
Another paga slave hurried by, summoned, a blond.
I have mentioned that the girls were not belled, and that this had to do with, presumably, the possible need for darkness and silence, in the event of an attack on the camp. The evening was warm. The moons were out. It
