"To the Vosk League!" said Aemilianus, commander of the naval forces of Ar's Station.
"To the Vosk League!" we said, fervently.
Two of the men at the table had been signatories to the treaty of the Vosk League, solemnly signed under festive canopies on the wharves of Victoria yesterday at the tenth Ahn, Glyco, who had signed on behalf of Port Cos, and Tasdron, Administrator of Victoria, who had signed on behalf of Victoria. In all, nineteen towns had become members of the League, Turmus, Ven, Tetrapoli, Port Cos, Tafa, Victoria, Fina, Ragnar's Hamlet, Hammerfest, Sulport, Sais, Siba, Jasmine, Point Alfred, Jort's Ferry, Forest Port, Iskander, Tancred's Landing and White Water.
"To Ar's Station!" said Callimachus, lifting his goblet to Aemilianus.
"To Ar's Station!" we said.
"I am grateful to you all, for your generosity," said Aemilianus. "I regret only that I was not permitted to sign the treaty on behalf of Ar's Station."
Well did we know his bitterness in this matter. Envoys from Ar, though present at the signing of the treaty, extending felicitations to the league, and commending its intent, had refused to permit Ar's Station to become a party to the signing of the document. Though this was a great disappointment to Aemilianus, and to others of Ar's Station, who had fought with us, it came generally as no surprise on the river. Ar had had difficulties enough with the Salerian Confederation, to the east, not to welcome the formation of a new league along the Vosk. And, surely, such a league would prove detrimental to Ar's ambitions on the Vosk and in the Vosk basin.
Port Cos, of course, had had no similar difficulties in joining the league. She was an independent town, and sovereign in her own right. Interestingly, envoys neither from Cos herself nor from the Salerian Confederation attended the formation of the league. They would wait, it seemed, to see whether or not the league became an effective, practical political reality upon the Vosk. If it did, that would be time enough, we supped, for them to concern themselves with it.
"To Port Cos!" said Tasdron, lifting his cup.
"To Port Cos," said we all, and that toast was well drunk.
"To Victoria!" said Glyco, reciprocating the honor that Tasdron had shown his city.
"To Victoria!" we said, and well and heartily drunk, too, was this toast. Downing it, I found, startled, that there were tears in my eyes.
"What is wrong?" asked Callimachus, smiling.
"It is smoke," I said, "from the lamps."
"No," he smiled, "it is because Victoria is your city."
"Aemilianus!" I said, huskily, that I might drive this emotion from me.
"Yes?" said he.
"I have been meaning for days to give you a gift, one I have been saving for you."
"Oh?" he asked.
I looked at Shirley. "To his feet, Slave," I said.
Swiftly Shirley, startled, putting down the wine, knelt before Aemilianus.
"I took her from Reginald, captain of the _Tamira_," I said.
"That is known to me," said Aemilianus.
"Do you like her?" I asked.
"Yes!" said Aemilianus.
"She is yours!" I said.
Swiftly the slave put down her head and began to kiss the feet of Aemilianus. "My Master," she said, acknowledging him as her new master.
"My thanks!" said Aemilianus.
"It is nothing," I said. "She is only a slave."
"She is worth at least ten silver tarsks," speculated Tasdron. This heartened me, for Tasdron was quite skilled in the assessment of female slaves. As the owner of a paga tavern, he had bought and sold many, of course. It was a form of merchandise with which he was quite familiar. It seemed to me not impossible, upon reflection, that the voluptuous Shirley, put upon the block, exhibited by a skilled auctioneer, might bring the very fine sum of ten silver tarsks.
There was applause for me about the table, the striking of the left shoulder in Gorean fashion. One of the nicest gifts one can give a man, of course, is a beautiful woman.
"But, mercifully," I said, "let her continue to serve. You may then take her home with you tonight when you go."
"Very well," he grinned.
I threw him a narrow, eighteen-inch black strap. "This is for when you take her home with you tonight," I said.
"Thank you," he said. When he left tonight, of course, she would not be wearing a collar, and, presumably, she would be stripped. The strap would be useful in tying her hands behind her back. There would be no danger, of course, of her being mistaken for a free woman. She would continue to be well marked as a slave by her brand, which was small and fine, and burned deeply into her left thigh.
"Where are you supposed to be now, Girl?" asked Aemilianus.
"In the kitchen, I think, Master," she said.
"Well, then," he said, "run now to the kitchen."
"Yes, Master," she said and, leaping up, ran to the kitchen. She was closely followed by the lovely little slave in the bluish gauze. Doubtless both of them were soon to bring forth the next course of the meal, which I took to be assorted desserts, to be followed by black wine and liqueurs.
"Let us sit down," I said. Then I signaled to the musicians to begin once more to play.
I turned to Miles of Vonda. "What are your plans?" I asked.
"I shall venture to Turmus," he said, "where I have contacts. There I shall arrange a loan and with this money return to Vonda, there to rebuild the burned buildings of my ranch."
I glanced to Florence. In her yellow tunic and collar she knelt quite close to him.
The tunic and collar, of course, were all she wore. Slaves were permitted little clothing.
"What of your wench?" I asked.
"I will keep her on my estates, near Vonda," he said. "There will be no problem. She has been properly branded and collared."
"Will you board your slave in Victoria," I asked, "while you venture to Turmus?"
Florence looked frightened, suddenly.
"No," he said, "I will take her with me."
She then looked relaxed, and happy.
I grinned.
Florence then looked at me, reproachfully, and then smiled. Then she put her head against her master's shoulder.
"Was it your intention, earlier, to give Shirley to Aemilianus?" asked Callimachus.
"Yes," I said.
"But you would have done it later in the evening?" he asked.
"Yes," I admitted.
"Do not fear your sentiment," he said. He had detected that I, embarrassed by the tears which had formed in my eyes, following our toast to Victoria, had sought to divert attention from this putative weakness by making that moment in which I would give a gift to my friend, Aemilianus.
"I have carried weapons," I said. "I have fought."
"Tears are not unbecoming to the soldier," said Callimachus. "The soldier is a man of deep passions, and emotion. Many men cannot even understand his depths. Do not fear your currents and your powers. In the soldier are flowers and stories. Each is a part of him, and each is real. Accept both. Deny neither."
"Thank you, Callimachus," I said.
"Ah, chained slaves!" called Glyco, delightedly.
Two girls emerged from the kitchen, the girl in bluish gauze, whom I had not yet named, and the girl in yellow gauze, whom I had called Shirley, who was now owned by Aemilianus. I did not know what name he would choose to give her. Each girl carried a tray of desserts, and each wore two light, graceful, gleaming chains, one of which, some twenty inches in length, by means of ankle rings, joined her ankles, and the other of which, some eighteen inches in length, put confinement on her wrists, each fair wrist being clasped snugly in one of its locked wrist rings. They approached, beautiful and enslaved, carrying their trays, that they might serve us, their movements, graceful and feminine, measured to the permissions of their chains. There was a murmur of pleasure and appreciation about the table. Chained beauties were being looked upon by strong men.