I then became aware that the tarn was circling, and descending.
It was hard to breathe. I could see little but the sky, and the clouds. Then, with a jolt to my back, and with a scattering of dust and a snapping of wings, the tarn alit.
I became aware, as well as I could see, that we stood in the midst of a clearing in a peasant village. I could see, my head hanging down, in the distance a great thicket of Ka-la-na. Peasants were crowding about. Turning my head to one side, I could see men with spears and flails, in peasant tunics. Women and children, too, in the dusty square crowded about. I heard some clanging of pans. I saw sticks in the hands of some of the children.
"I see you have her, Warrior," said a large peasant, bearded, in a rough tunic of rep cloth.
I trembled.
"You flushed her well into the field," said the warrior. "My thanks." I groaned in misery.
"It is little enough for the many services you have rendered us," said the man. "She stole meat from us last night," said a man.
"Yes," said another, "and before that, the night before, from the village of Rorus."
"Give her to us, Warrior," said a man, "for a quarter of an Ahn, for a switching."
The warrior laughed. I trembled.
"There are men of Rorus here, too," said the man. "They, too, would like to punish her. Give her to us for a quarter of an Ahn, that we may switch her." Bound, I trembled.
"Let us switch her," cried the women and the children. "Let us switch her!" Upside down, fastened in the straps, I shook with fear.
"What is the cost of the meat?" inquired the warrior.
The people were silent.
From a pouch he threw a coin to a man of the village, and another to another man, doubtless one of the other village, called Rorus.
"Thank you, Warrior," they cried. "Our thanks!"
"Her first beating," said the warrior, in his strong voice, "is mine to bestow!" There was much laughter. I pulled helplessly at the straps.
"I wish you well!" they cried.
I felt the one-strap of the tarn harness jerk tight across my body, and suddenly, taking my breath away, the great bird screamed and began to beat its wings, and the saddle pressed up against my back, and I, upside down, saw the conical huts of the peasants drop away below us, and the bird, stroke by violent, majestic stroke, its head forward, was climbing toward the clouds.
The tarn streaked through the skies. I could fell the wind on my body. I lay bound over the saddle. My hair fled back in the wind, across his left thigh. I could scarcely move my wrists and ankles. He had lashed them securely. He was incredibly strong. Never before, even in the hut, had I been tied more tightly, more helplessly. I did not know where we were going, or even in what direction we were flying. I knew only that I, Elinor Brinton, a captured girl, was being carried helplessly, cruelly bound, tightly and uncompromisingly secured, into slavery.
It is now clear to me that we were flying southeastward.
Shortly after we had attained the skies, and he had set his direction, he turned me on my flank, facing him, and, with the fingers of his right hand, fingered my brand. "Only a Kajira," he said. Then, with the palm of his hand he thrust me back on my back.
In a moment or two, he reached down and took my hair, lifting my head, painfully, and turning it from side to side. "Your ears are pierced," he said. Then he dropped my head back against the side of the saddle.
I groaned, helplessly.
The tarn streaked on.
Once, he said to me, "We are crossing the Vosk."
I knew then we were within the territory of Ar, and must be high over the Margin of Desolation, a barren area, now recovering itself, which, years ago, had been cleared and devastated, that the northern fields of Ar by such a natural barrier, by such a wall of hunger and thirst, might be protected, presumably from invasion from the north or, more likely, from the incursions of Vosk pirates. In the reign of Marlenus, prior to his exile, and later, after his restoration, the Margin of Desolation had been deliberately left untended, that it might recover. Marlenus had set a swift fleet of light, Vosk galleys to clear the river waters adjoining his Ubarate of pirates. They had been successful, or muchly so. Seldom did Vosk pirates ply their trade where the Vosk bordered the regions of Ar. Other cities, to the north, of course, looked with apprehension on Marlenus' permitting the Margin of Desolation to recover its fertility and shade. He may have been only intending to extend the arable lands of Ar. On the other hand, under Marlenus, it became clear that Ar no longer feared for her borders. Also, the ambition of Marlenus, the Ubar of Ar, said to be the Ubar of Ubars, was well known. If it was now possible, or soon would be possible, to bring a land army easily southward to Ar, once the Vosk was traversed, by the same token, it would be similarly possible for Ar to bring, swiftly a considerable force of men northward, to the very shore of the Vosk. Of tradition, the northern shore of the Vosk was disputed by various cities. Ar, among others, had mde her claims.
Ahn after Ahn, the tarn flew.
He did not unbind me to feed me.
"Open your mouth," he said.
He thrust yellow Sa-Tarna bread into my mouth. I chewed the bread and, with difficulty, swallowed it. He then, with his tarn knife, from a piece of raw bosk meat, cut four small pieces of meat, which he placed in my mouth. "Feed," he said. I chewed the meat, eyes closed, swallowing it. "Drink," he said. He thrust the horn nozzle of a leather bota of water between my teeth. I almost choked. He withdrew the nozzle and capped the bota, replacing it in his saddle pack. I closed my eyes, miserable. I had been fed and watered.
The tarn flew on.
After a time I looked up at the warrior who had captured me.
He seemed broad chested, and broad shouldered. He had a large head, muchly concealed within the war helmet. He carried his head proudly. His arms were strong, muscular and bronzed. His hands were large, and rough, fit for weapons. He wore scarlet leather. His helmet, with its "Y"-like aperture, was gray. Neither his leather nor his helmet were distinguished by insignia. I supposed then, that he must be a mercenary, or an outlaw.
To have been taken by such a man, I had no idea what my fate would be. There seemed something familiar about the strong figure, before whom I was bound.
Somehow he frightened me. I felt I had know him, or met him before. Perhaps in Laura, near the compound of Targo!
"Are you," I asked, trembling, "a hireling of Haakon of Skjern?"
"No," he said.
"Will youa€”" I asked, "will you keep me for yourself?" I shuddered. "A smelly, dirty little Kajira, with pierced ears, who steals meat from peasant villages?" he said.
I groaned.
"I would not even put you with my women," he said.
I closed my eyes.
I realized then that such a warrior had undoubtedly captured many women, that many beauties, both slave and free, before me, and doubtless after me, would, as bound prized, helplessly grace his saddle. Among such riches, I, Elinor Brinton, realized that to such a man, a warrior, a tarnsman among tarnsmen, I was of little account, only another girl and perhaps a poor sort of one at that. He had little more interest in me than in a piece of meat, which he had captured and tied.
"You should be sold to a peddler," he said. "Or I should have left you in the peasant village. Peasants know well how to treat thieving wenches." "Please sell me in Ar," I begged. "I am white silk."
He looked at me, I could see the mouth grinning. I shuddered.
"You are unworthy of being sold in Ar," he said. "Perhaps you might be sold at a smaller town, a village, or a border outpost."
"Please," I begged.
"I will dispose of you as I wish," he said. "Now be silent on the matter." I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, I saw him regarding me. He was grinning.
"I am white silk!" I cried. "I will bring a higher price if I am sold white silk!"