"You cannot sell me!" she wept. "I am not a slave!"
"Times are grim, Lady Florence," I told her. "Keep moving."
"I am not a slave," she said. "You are mad to think you can sell me!"
"We shall see," I said. "Keep moving."
Suddenly she turned and knelt, sobbing, in the grass before me. "I know you can sell me," she wept. "But do not, please!"
"Why not?" I asked.
"I am not a slave!" she sobbed.
"Goreans think that in every woman there is a slave," I said.
"Return me to Vonda," she said. "I will get you another woman, a true slave, whom you can sell. Let me go! Sell some other woman, one who is a true slave."
"Do you think you could find me another," I asked, "one to take your place?"
"Yes," she said. "Yes!"
"There was a girl of interest to me," I said, "apparently one of your own girls."
"Yes?" she said, eagerly.
"One whom you very kindly sent to content me in the darkness of the tunnels beneath your lands."
She turned white.
"She did not even have a name, as yet, as I recall," I said. "She was referred to, if I recall correctly, merely as the `new slave.'"
The girl trembled, and could not meet my eyes.
"She must have been a new slave, indeed," I said. "As I recall she had not yet even been branded or collared."
"Yes, Jason," whispered the girl.
"She was pleasant in my arms, in a servile, sluttish way," I said.
The Lady Florence looked up at me, angrily.
"She was a true slave, wouldn't you say?" I asked the girl.
"Yes," she said, angrily, "she was a true slave."
"Do you think you could get her for me?" I asked.
"No," she said, "no."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I told you," she said, "I told you in my room, before, I sold her! I sold her!"
"But you did not tell the truth," I said.
She looked at me, warily. "How could you know that?" she asked.
"Such news travels swiftly in the stables," I said. "If you had sold a slave, I would have heard of it."
"I see," she said.
"Why did you lie?" I asked.
"I-I was jealous of her," she said. "I wanted you to think she was no longer on the estates."
"But she was still upon the estates, wasn't she?" I asked
"Yes," she said.
"What became of her?" I asked.
"Doubtless she was captured by the brigands, when they raided my estates," she said.
"I do not think so," I said. "I saw various slaves, indeed, house slaves and stable sluts, fastened at the saddle rings of the brigands, but I knew them all. No girl there was unknown to me. Thus none of them could have been the new slave."
"I do not know what became of her," said the Lady Florence, looking away, trembling.
"But you are certain, are you not," I asked, "that she was a true slave?"
"Oh, yes," said the Lady, Florence. "That slut was a true slave."
"She belonged in the collar, wouldn't you say?" I asked.
"Yes, Jason," said the Lady Florence.
"I wonder if I shall ever see her again," I mused.
"You would not know it, if you did, would you," asked the Lady Florence, "since, by my will, she served you only in the total darkness."
"I might know," I told her.
"Oh?" she said, warily.
"Her height and weight, and the feel of her body," I said, "were not unlike yours."
She shrugged, angrily.
"Her thigh, too," I said, "was as smooth as yours, and her throat, like yours, was innocent of the obdurate circlet of bondage. Surely such omissions are unusual in the case of female slaves."
"I simply had not yet had her collared and branded," she said. "She was, after all, a new slave."
"But are not such things among the first things which are done to a female slave?" I asked.
"Sometimes," shrugged Lady Florence.
"Her voice, too, was not unlike yours," I said.
"What are you suggesting!" demanded the Lady Florence, angrily.
"Her hair, however," I said, "was it the same as yours?"
"No," she said, "no! Her hair was blond, quite blond." The Lady Florence straightened up then, and smiled.
"Your hair, then," I said, "is quite different."
"Yes," she said.
I walked slowly behind the Lady Florence. She knelt straight. "Your own hair," I said, "is a rich auburn."
"Yes," she said.
"Such hair," I said, "is very unusual."
"I am fond of my hair," she said.
"You might well be," I said. "Such hair would be the envy of many slave girls."
"You need not speak of it that way," she said.
"Did you know that auburn hair is highly prized in the slave markets?" I asked.
"I have heard that," she said. "Oh!" she said. I had jerked a strand of hair from her head.
I walked about, before her, and held before her a strand of hair. "Why did you do that?" she asked.
"Is this your hair?" I asked.
"Of course," she said. "Why did you take it from me?" she asked.
"To identify you by it later," I said.
"I do not understand," she said.
"Why did you lie to me?" I asked.
"About what?" she asked.
"About the hair color of the new slave," I said.
"I did not lie," she said.
"Does this appear blond to you?" I asked. I showed her the strand of auburn hair, which she had just identified as her own.
"No," she said, "of course not."
"This is yours, is it not?" I asked.
"Of course," she said.
"Interesting," I said.
"Why?" she asked.
"This hair, which you have identified as your own," I said, "I took a few days ago, in the darkness, from the head of the `new slave.'"
"No," she said, "you just took it from me, now!"
"No," I said, opening my left hand, "this is the strand of hair which I just took from you. The other I have carried for some days, concealed in my tunic. I removed it from my tunic when I was behind you." I held both strands in my right hand, before her. "Note," I said, "how both strands are identical."
She looked sick.
"Greetings, New Slave," I said.
"Greetings," she said, looking at me, frightened.
"Greetings, what?" I asked.
"Greetings- Master," she said.
I thrust her back to the grass. It was high about us.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.
"You lied to me," I said.
"What are you going to do with me?" she begged.
"Rape you as a slave," I said.
"I only pretended to be a slave," she wept.
"That pretense will be abruptly terminated in the camp of Tenalion," I said, "when the iron is pressed into your thigh, when the collar is closed about your throat."
"Oh!" she said. "What are you doing, your hands!"
"I am preparing you for slavery," I said.
"Free me," she begged.
I placed my mouth over hers. I felt her lips, full and liquid and wet, beneath mine. "No," I told her.
30 WE RESUME OUR JOURNEY
In a few moments she knelt before me, in the grass, shuddering, her head to my feet.
"You treated me as a slave, truly," she said.
"You are a slave," I told her, "except for certain legalities, which will soon be satisfied."
"No," she wept, "no!"
"Between now and our arrival at the camp of Tenalion," I said, "you will be and act in all respects as though you might be a full and legal slave. This will help you to accomodate yourself to your future condition. Indeed, it may save your life."