I was held by the hair, and cuffed three times, once with the palm of his right hand, then with its back, and then, again, with the palm. I tasted blood at my lip.
“Forgive me, Master,” I said. I had been slow to obey.
Paula had already slipped from her tunic.
I hastily pulled off the tunic.
Kurik then stood between us, and took us by the hair. His left hand was tight in my hair and his right hand was doubtless the same in Paula’s hair. I winced. Then our heads were thrust down. We were bent over, our heads at his waist. We were in leading position, one on each side of the master.
Long hair is favored in slave girls, for several reasons. Doubtless the first reason is aesthetic, as such hair is lovely in a girl. Certainly long hair tends to raise the price of a slave. Too, in the furs, much can be done with long hair to please a master, it brushing against him, and such. Too, as in leading, long hair makes it easier to control the slave. Indeed, sometimes a slave is bound with her own hair. Too, of course, a girl, if only in her vanity, wishes to retain her hair, and will do much to keep it. A shaved head not only punishes a girl but marks her out to other slaves as having been a displeasing slave. She is then likely to be the object of much derision and contempt. Lastly, it might be noted that the shorn hair of slaves, commonly marketed as the hair of free women, may be used by free women for various cosmetic purposes, such as wigs and falls. Woman’s hair, too, makes the best catapult cordage, being resilient, strong, and weather-resistant. Indeed, when a city is besieged, even free women may donate their own hair for such a purpose.
We were led, half stumbling, by Kurik, my master, toward the slave pool, with Drusus Andronicus now preceding us. He undid the gate, and we were thrust through the gate, into the water, and almost before we could turn, standing in the now-cold, waist-high water, we heard the gate close and the snap of the two heavy locks that held it in place. We were again locked in the domed, cage pool. It was dark about, but we could see into the yard, illuminated by the fire pit, now containing a smaller fire, see the Lady Bina, still seated, and, closely behind her, the wagon. All this was within a few yards.
“Kajirae,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“Master,” we said, acknowledging that we were to be spoken to.
“You have been caged for your own protection,” said Drusus Andronicus. “The bars should protect you. In the heat of what may ensue, perhaps abruptly and unexpectedly, you might be injured. If I were you, I would endeavor to remain relatively unobtrusive. Do not call attention to yourselves. We will brook no interference. You should survive. You are not free. Your collars should protect you.”
“Release us, Master,” I wept, standing in the water, clutching the bars.
“They know you are of our party,” said Drusus Andronicus. “They will search for you. So, let them learn where you are. If you were loose, and fled, you would be soon apprehended, and might be hamstrung as fugitive slaves, if only by the guards of the caravanserai.”
“What is going on, Master?” begged Paula, plaintively, but Drusus Andronicus had turned away from her.
The two at the gate, Drusus Andronicus and Kurik, of Victoria, were joined by Lord Grendel.
“Might it not have been wise, dear Grendel,” said Kurik, “to have solicited the aid of Surtak, and those with him?”
“I am sure they would have looked favorably on such a request,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“No,” said Lord Grendel. “All might have died. Their participation would have been anticipated by Decius Albus and Lucilius, and the intruders will be prepared, equipped with bows and quarrels. An ax is small protection against a quarrel flighted at a pace’s distance. Too, Surtak and his cohorts, despite their reservations pertaining to Decius Albus, are oathed to Lord Agamemnon. I think their participation, ill-fated as it would have been, would have compromised their oathing.”
“Then we are alone,” said Kurik.
“We have an ally,” said Lord Grendel, “the fear of those who will breach the camp.”
“Let us put our plan into effect,” said Drusus Andronicus.
“I shall prepare the wagon,” said Kurik.
“Master!” I called.
He turned back to face me.
“You fear an attack,” I said.
“Surely,” he said.
“Perhaps you are mistaken,” I said. After all, the minions of Decius Albus would not know we had left the city, or when we might have left, or what route we might choose. Too, there had been no obvious evidence of pursuit. The trip had been uneventful. And Surtak had supposed our exit from Ar had been successfully effected.
“I suspect not,” said Kurik. “Decius Albus has spies. He is well informed.”
“Still,” I protested.
“There was a wagon,” he said, “that soon followed us from Ar, a fine brown wagon, long-bedded and wide, lacquered, with two lanterns, drawn by two fine tharlarion, displaying the selling banner of itinerant cloth workers.”
I knew nothing about a selling banner of cloth workers, itinerant or otherwise, but I knew the wagon, for Paula and I, earlier in the day, had noted its presence, with some concern.
“It matched its pace to ours, despite the traffic. This was easily determined, from the back of the wagon. When we rested, it ceased to move, and so on.”
“Paula and I noticed such a wagon,” I said. “But these congruences were a matter of coincidence.”
“Cloth workers do not sell from such a wagon,” said Kurik. “Itinerant cloth workers are peddlers. They would have a smaller wagon, or, more likely, a cart, not so fine a wagon. It would be unusual peddlers, indeed, who could afford so splendid a wagon and such a brace of prime tharlarion.”
“Coincidence, Master,” I said, “surely coincidence.”
“I should hate to trust my life to your coincidences,” he said.
“The wagon passed us,” I said, “and came to lodge at the caravanserai, before we arrived.”
“The road could be watched,” he said. “If we passed the caravanserai, it would be a simple matter to renew the pursuit. If we did not pass, how better to conceal the pursuit, than by appearing independently lodged, thus suggesting indifference or disinterest?”
“It could still be a coincidence,” I said.
“Certainly,” said Kurik. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must prepare for the attack.”
He then turned about and went across the yard, and began to busy himself about the wagon.
“I do not understand what is going on,” I said. “If some attack is imminent, and we are likely to be outnumbered, surely we should flee.”
“And be again pursued?” said Paula. “And again, and again, always fearing small sounds, an unrecognized step, an unfamiliar face? They will take a stand, one calculated to discourage pursuit.”
“I see no hope in this,” I said.
“Who would walk blindfolded amongst osts?” she said.
“The water is cold,” I said.
“Hsst,” whispered Paula.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Perhaps half an Ahn had passed since we had been locked in the cage of the slave pool.
We saw torches approaching through the wagons, approaching the yard where we had camped.
“I count eight torches,” said Paula, “and each torch bearer illuminates the way for a bowman.”
“The other shape,” I said, “with the great ax, hideous amongst them.”
“Kur, kur,” said Paula.
“Lucilius?” I said.
“Doubtless,” said she.
“We should have fled,” I moaned, softly.
“It will be done with us as men please,” said Paula. “We are caged. We are beasts, slaves.”
I, standing in the water, clutched the bars, looking out, through them. We could not affect the outcome
of what might ensue.
“We must stand by,” I said. “We can do nothing. We are helpless.”
“We are only beasts, slaves,” said Paula.
The Lady Bina remained as she had been, sitting, near the fire, the wagon a yard or two behind her.
“We must call out,” I said.
“No,” said Paula, “remember the instructions of the masters.”
“But the Lady Bina,” I said.
“She is as aware as we of the torches, the men,” said Paula. “They make no effort to conceal their presence.”
“She is alone,” I said. “She has been deserted.”
“Seemingly so,” said Paula.
There was no sign of Lord Grendel, or Eve, or of Drusus Andronicus, or of Kurik, my master, in the camp.
“The others have fled,” I said. “Leaving the Lady Bina, a free woman, to the intruders, to the mercy of the minions of Decius Albus.”
“Then we, as well,” said Paula.
“We can effect nothing critical,” I said. “They were outnumbered. Their opponents have bows. Flight is rational. It was wise to flee.”
“And abandon the Lady Bina, a free woman?” she asked.
“It seems so,” I said.
“Why would they not take her with them?” she asked.
“She might encumber their flight,” I said.
“Then,” she said, “they are cowards.”
“How can it be otherwise?” I said.
“I know little or nothing of he whom you call ‘Lord Grendel’, and she whom you call ‘Eve’,” said Paula, “but Drusus Andronicus and Kurik are Goreans, masters.”
“They have left the Lady Bina,” I said.
“No coward is worthy of owning a woman,” she said.
“On this world,” I said, “it is easy to buy a woman.”
At that point, Lucilius, bearing his ax, entered the yard. He was flanked by two torch bearers, and two bowmen, quarrels readied in guides. The others, torch bearers and bowmen, appeared, alert, ranging about. The yard was well illuminated. The humans were not in the livery of Decius Albus. Their projected action was apparently to be accomplished anonymously. About the neck of Lucilius was a translator, doubtless that he might communicate with his fellows.
Lucilius looked about.
“Are you not late?” inquired the Lady Bina.
“Where is Grendel, the beast, the beast, Eve, the loathsome humans?” demanded Lucilius.
“I have been waiting for you,” said the Lady Bina.
“No,” said Lucilius, “you are taken unawares, surprised.”
“Scarcely,” said the Lady Bina.
“Astonished,” said Lucilius.
“We have been aware of your presence since early this morning,” said the Lady Bina. “It would have been easier to overlook the presence of a sleen in a vulo coop, or that of a draft tharlarion in a slave market.”
“Where is Grendel, who would not oath to Lord Agamemnon, Grendel, who freed the traitor, Surtak, Grendel, who disturbed the games of Decius Albus? Where, too, are the others of your party, the monster, Eve, and the two humans?”
“They will return shortly,” said the Lady Bina.
“Good,” said Lucilius. “We shall wait.”
“Are you sure you wish to wait?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Lucilius.
“What is your business with sweet, gentle Grendel?” asked the Lady Bina.
“I will meet him, ax to ax,” said Lucilius.
“Excellent,” said the Lady Bina. “Then dismiss your bowmen.”
“They are with me,” said Lucilius.
“Once,” said the Lady Bina, “when I was in dire straits, dear Grendel was kind enough to stand as my champion, in an arena, on the Metal World. Perhaps you witnessed the events of that afternoon, or are familiar with an account of them.”
“I do not fear him,” said Lucilius.
“Neither would I,” said the Lady Bina, “if he were pierced by eight crossbow bolts, before he could lift his ax.”
“We will wait,” said Lucilius.
“You may be prepared to die,” said the Lady Bina, “but your fellows may be less willing to do so.”
“I do not understand,” said Lucilius.
His men looked about, and at one another, uneasily.
“You have led your men, poor fellows, unwittingly to be sure, so they should not really blame you,” said the Lady Bina, “into a lethal trap.”
The torch bearers and bowmen stirred, looking apprehensively about.
“Stay where you are, do not move!” said Lucilius.
“I suggest,” said the Lady Bina, “that some of you fellows bring those torches a bit closer and lift them higher. That done, please examine the wagon, in particular, the emblem with which it is emblazoned, and the banner it flies.”
There were cries of dismay from several of the fellows about.
“The sign of Mintar, Mintar of Ar!” cried a man.
“Anticipating our meeting,” said the Lady Bina, “we arranged with the house of Mintar to transmit some parcels on his behalf to Besnit.”
I was sure this was false. But Lucilius, and certainly his cohorts, might be less certain of the matter.
I now suspected the nature of some of the mysterious objects carried in the wagon, paint, perhaps, in the cylindrical containers, and, surely, the pole and banner, which must have resided in the long, rectangular box.
“Further,” said the Lady Bina, “we informed the agents of the great merchant, Mintar, that we anticipated the appearance of caravan bandits.”
“We are not caravan bandits!” cried a man, clearly alarmed, looking about.
“Then I regret that a tragic misunderstanding has taken place,” said the Lady Bina. “I am very sorry.”
At that point, from the darkness, a voice called out, “Deploy, Sleen of Mintar, the urts are in the trap!”
Lucilius may have understood little of this, but the men with him were only too aware of the might of the merchant, Mintar, his vast web of agents and informants, his generous rewards for the apprehension of those who might be so foolish as to harrow his wagons, and the numbers and tenacity of his hunters, trained killers known for the relentless pursuit of their quarry, pursuits sometimes prolonged for years. More than one road had been lined with the impaled bodies of their prey. Too, it was rumored that Mintar had access to the resources of the state, as well. Surely it was clear that he was highly placed in the estimation of the state. It was said, even, that he occasionally enjoyed a game of kaissa with Marlenus, the Ubar himself.
Then another voice called out, from the opposite side. “Guardsmen of Ar,” it called, “prepare to do justice to those who would endanger the great road. And, guards of the caravanserai, unsheathe your thirsty swords, to drink the blood of those who would rob within the protected precincts of the caravanserai of Hogarth!”
Those with Lucilius looked wildly about. Some thrust their torches in the dirt.
“Upon my signal,” cried the first voice, “loose your quarrels.”
“No, no! Wait, wait!” cried a man. “Hold your fire! We are not bandits! We are not bandits!”
Men thrust torch after torch into the dirt, extinguishing them. And, in a moment, the yard was in darkness, save for the light from the fire pit.
“Close the ring,” called the first voice. “None shall escape!”
“This is all a mistake,” called one of Lucilius’ fellows from the darkness. “Robbery is not our work!”
“We have no intentions on the goods of Mintar!” cried another.
“We knew not the wagon his!” cried another.
“We are innocent, innocent!” cried another.
“Be silent!” came from the translator of Lucilius, the volume increased well beyond t
he normal level.
“We are not bandits, we are not robbers!” cried another voice, from the darkness.
“Glory to Mintar!” called another.
“May he prosper!” called another voice.
“We are innocent, innocent!” cried another.
“We are patient,” called the first voice, that which had originally alarmed the intruders. “We can wait until morning, and then, at our leisure, with a thousand quarrels, slay these thieving urts with impunity. In the meantime, keep the circle closed!”
“It will be done, Commander!” answered the second voice, that which had been supposedly associated with road patrols, with guardsmen of Ar, and the supposed guards of the caravanserai itself.
“None will escape!” called the first voice. “The caravanserai will furnish the impaling poles!”
“We are innocent!” cried one of Lucilius’ followers from the darkness.
“It is a mistake!” cried another.
“Mercy, mercy!” called several terrified voices.
“Be silent, be silent!” came from Lucilius’ translator.
“Hold!” called the Lady Bina, whose voice, despite its diminutive, exquisite housing, carried in it all the majesty of a Gorean free woman. “I am a free woman, and I am speaking, so attend me, and well! I think these fellows were honestly misled. What thief in his right mind would risk the impaling poles of the great Mintar? I am sure they did not know a cargo of Mintar was in question.”
“No, no!” cried several men.
“We did not know,” called others, plaintively.
“Be quiet,” said the Lady Bina. “A free woman is speaking.”
There was, instantly, silence.
“Reluctant as I am to interfere in the activities of men, riddling bodies with quarrels, lopping off arms and heads, stabbing with knives and spears, splashing blood about, and such,” she said, “such activities are, I gather, most enjoyable when properly motivated.”
There was silence.
“I am convinced,” she said, “Sleen-of-Mintar fellows, Guardsmen, guards, and others, whosoever they may be, out there in the darkness, that this evening’s business is founded on a misunderstanding. I do not think these fellows had any designs on what did not belong to them, in particular, anything that might belong to Mintar, the merchant, whom we all respect, and of whom we are all fond.”
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