fastened opposite her hands, she could not reach them with either her hands or teeth. On the other hand she could roll about and change her position much as she wished. It was not as good as a neck or ankle chain, or a kennel or top-barred slave pit for her, but I did not have such amenities. It was now ten days since I had first put a gag on her for purposes of trekking. She seldom wore it, of course, in our camps. I was considering removing it, even for trekking. As I have suggested, she was coming along very nicely. To be sure, occasionally, as she was still a mere free woman, she required a firm word, or a subtle warning, such as my touching my belt. I was pleased that I had not had to lash her once. That I was fully capable of lashing her, and would do so, if there seemed point in it, or if I wished, seemed more than sufficient for her. It is this way with most female captives, as it is with most female slaves. To be sure, the female slave sometimes relishes a taste of the whip, if only to reassure herself that she is truly subject to discipline, that she is truly a slave. Too, interestingly, sometimes a woman wants to feel a man's whip because she loves him. I am not sure why this is. Perhaps it is because this, in its way, in her mind, proves to her that she is truly his. To be sure, if she is his slave, she is truly his, legally and institutionally, and discipline, and such, have nothing to do with this. The most pampered slave is as much owned by her master as she who is kept under the strictest of disciplines. If she doubts this she may revise her opinions when she finds herself being sold.
I watched her work, She was now cutting pieces of raw fish, laying them on the hot, flat rock.
'May we make a fire, captor?' she asked.
'No,' I said.
She did not ask, 'Why?' She had learned after a cuffing five or six days ago that the captor's will, like that of the master, is not to be questioned or disputed. If we were to cook the fish, we would presumably do so in wrappings of wet rence, buried in the ashes of a small fire. It seemed to me that making a fire might be dangerous. There was some possibility that it might attract attention. I did not know who or what might be about m the marsh. To be sure, I did not think, objectively, that there was now a great deal of danger. It would presumably be otherwise when one reached the edges of the delta. The delta, on the whole, is sparsely populated. On the other hand, I did not think there was any point in taking unnecessary chances. Cuwignaka, Canka, Hci, and such fellows, presumably would not do so. Sometimes one must be as hard, as cunning, and as patient, as a red savage. I wondered how Ina might fare in the Barrens. The red savages, with their quirts, and posts and leather, know well how to handle white women.
I watched Ina gather up the scales, bones, and such, the refuse, and carry them to the marsh, where she discarded them. She then wiped her hands on her thighs like a rence girl and returned to kneel by the rock, where she began to separate the pieces of fish into bite-sized pieces.
'You are far from the dining pavilions of Ar,' I said.
'As you are from the paga taverns of Port Kar,' she said. I regarded her, assessing her. 'Perhaps I am not as far from them as you think,' I said.
She put her head down, shyly.
'Are you not angry at the comparison?' I asked.
'No,' she said, not looking up.
One of the advantages of cooking the fish, of course, would have been the enjoyment of her, while the fish was cooking. One can always find some pleasant way, such a woman at hand, naked and in your power, to while away such moments.
She had now divided the fish into small pieces, separated on the rock.
She now knelt back.
She did not, of course, take any of the food. It was my food and not hers.
'It is ready?' I asked.
'Yes, captor,' she said.
Last night I had feared she might require discipline. She had balked at being fitted with the buckled neck collar.
'Do you recall the marsh leech?' I had asked her.
'Yes,' she had said, frightened.
'Do you wish to eat one, or more, of them?' I had asked.
'No!' she had said. 'No!'
'Perhaps you will be good?' I said.
'Yes,' she said.
'Perhaps you will be very good?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said. 'I will be very good!'
She had then quickly inserted her head into the double loop of the collar and lifted her chin while I buckled it shut, closely, about her throat.
I began to eat.
She said nothing, but kept position.
I supposed that she, as I, must be terribly hungry.
I continued for a time to feed, in a solitary fashion. Then I picked up a piece of the fish and held it out to her. Swiftly then she leaned forward, parting her pretty lips and teeth. She kept her palms down on her thighs. I pulled back the bit of food and she looked up at me. 'Does Ina beg food of her captor?' I asked.
'Yes,' she said. 'Ina begs food of her captor.'
I then gave her the bit of food, putting it in her mouth.
She leaned back and ate the food. 'Thank you,' she said.
'You may feed,' I informed her.
'May I use my hands?' she asked.
I considered the matter. 'Yes,' I said. After all, she was not a new slave being trained, learning her collar, and the totality of her subjection to a master. She was, after all, a free prisoner.
She fell upon the bits of fish eagerly.
'Where are your manners?' I asked. 'You are a free woman. You are eating like a starved slave girl.'
'Forgive me, my captor,' she said.
When she had finished I pointed to the sand and she knelt there, putting her head down, her palms in the sand. 'Thank you for feeding me, captor,' she said.
'Go to my blankets,' I said.
'Yes, captor,' she said.
23 Rencers
'Hist!' said I. 'Be silent!'
I put my arm about her, holding her down in the sand.
We heard voices.
'Rencers,' I whispered.
We did not see them, nor lift our heads. We heard them pass. I do not think they were looking for anyone, but plying their normal pursuits.
'I think they are gone,' I said.
We would, in any event, await the coming of darkness before addressing ourselves again to the marsh.
I was pleased that we had concealed the camp as well as we had, and that the raft and pole had been similarly concealed. I think the rencers might actually have landed on the small island and not detected our presence there.
24 I Will Hunt
'Look,' I said. 'There!'
