“Then,” said I, “we shall have no choice but to take Talena by force.” “What if there is an objection,” inquired Rim, “raised on the part of Verna, and her panther girls?” “We have more than enough slave chains for Verna and her entire band,” I said. Rim was still peering out the window of the stern castle. Then he said, “It is the Rhoda of Tyros.” I went to the window, Thurnock pressed beside me.
Turning slowly, sweetly, into the wharves of Laura was the heavy-beamed, large medium galley, bright with the yellow of Tyros. I saw her yard being lowered, its sail left slack, to be removed from the yard and folded. On her deck I could see springals and catapults. Her crew moved efficiently. I heard the beat, over the water, of the copper-covered drum of the keleustes, marking the time for the oars.
It was the ship from Tyros which had been moored near the Tesephone in Lydius, the same which had cast off, following the departure of the Tesephone from Lydius.
It would have been difficult to bring such a ship this far on the river. Twice in the Tesephone’s own journey upriver, even with her shallow draft, we had gently ran aground and must needs use the poles to free ourselves. I was interested that her captain had brought such a ship to Laura. It was, on the wharves, attracting attention. The only craft commonly seen in Laura were light galleys, and the ubiquitous barges, towed by tharlarion treading along the shore.
“What business has such a ship in Laura?” I asked Rim.
“I do not know,” he said.
“It is not impossible,” said Thurnock, “they are concerned with common trade, panther hides and sleen furs, and such.” “No,” I said, “it is not impossible.” We could now see the crew of the Rhoda casting lines to the men at the wharf. She would soon be moored.
“Tyros,” said I, “is enemy of Ar. Should Marlenus fall to Verna and her band, Tyros might be much interested in his acquisition.” It was perhaps for such a reason that the Rhoda had come upriver to Laura. It would be quite a coup for Tyros, I surmised, did the great Ubar fall into their hands.
“Perhaps they are not interested in Marlenus,” said Rim, looking at me. I regarded him, puzzled.
“Who knows,” he asked, “what may happen in the forests?”
“What shall we do, Captain?” asked Thurnock.
“We shall proceed with our plans,” I said.
“You know what you are to do?” I asked Sheera.
“Yes,” she said, standing before me, deep with the forests.
In the brief sleeveless garment of white wool, my collar at her throat, her hair bound back by a fillet of white wool, she might have been any slave girl. “Extend your wrists,” I said.
“You’re not going to bracelet me!” she cried.
If I did so, she would be almost helpless in the forests.
“No!” she cried.
I snapped the bracelets on her. Her wrists were confined some four inches apart. It would be difficult for her to run, almost impossible to climb.
“Do I mean nothing to you?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
“The hold,” she protested.
“It mean nothing,” I told her.
She put her head down, a braceleted slave girl.
Rim and Thurnock were with me, and five men. We had come deep into the forests. We had brought with us a pack of trade goods, some gold. The pack, and gold, was now flung to one side. Before that it had been strapped to Sheera’s back. We would now make camp, putting sharpened stakes about our camp, to protect us from animals, and the nocturnal attacks of panther girls.
Sheera lifted her eyes. “They may simply slay me,” she said.
“Panther girls,” said I, “are not likely to slay a braceleted slave.” “I am Sheera,” said the girl, suddenly, proudly. “I am the enemy of Verna. If she captures me, she may slay me.” “You are Sheera,” I said. “If you captured Verna, branded and collared, what would you do with her?” she looked at me, angrily. “I would return her to slaver,” she said, “and promptly.” “Precisely,” said I.
“What if I do not fall in with her?” asked Sheera.
I held the chain joining the slave bracelets. I shook it, that she might well feel the steel retainers on her wrists.
“Then,” I said, “I expect you will fall in with sleen, or forest panthers.” She looked at me, with horror.
“Permit me to start now,” she said.
I looked at the sun, and then away. “It is a bit early,” I said, “for a slave girl to escape.” “But the sleen,” she said, “the panthers!” “Kneel, and wait,” I said.
She knelt, braceleted.
I did not expect it would take long for Verna’s girls to pick her up. We had made no effort to conceal our movements, or trail. I suspected that, already, they were aware of our presence in the forests. I had seen, an Ahn earlier, before we had reached this camp site, a tawny movement in the brush, some fifty yards in front of us, and to our left. I did not think that it was a forest panther.
The men were cutting and sharpening stakes, and setting them in the ground, about our camp site.
I looked at Sheera, kneeling in the bracelets.
Then I sat down, cross-legged, and withdrew an arrow, for the great bow, from its quiver and, with thread and a tiny pot of glue, bent to refreshing one of the shafts.
Above Laura, north of her, there lie several slave compounds. It had taken the better part of the morning, but Rim and I, and Thurnock, had found the blazed tree, blazed with a spear point, several feet high on the trunk. We had then found the next tree, to establish the line. We had marked the points and line on our map. On the map, later, in the stern castle, we had traced out, with greater accuracy than had hitherto had been possible, following the directions of Tana and Ela, what should be the location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. Our original estimate, we were pleased to note, was not grossly inaccurate. We would, of course, as before, if the need arose, not approach the camp by the familiar route. If it should prove necessary to storm the camp with slave nets, we would do so after a secret approach, striking decisively, and fiercely from an unexpected direction.
Things were going well.
I thought of the slave girl, Tana, paga slave in the tavern of Sarpedon of Lydius. I wondered how she would relish her new duties. I wondered if Sarpedon would have beaten her, for concealing from him her skills. It was quite probable. She would look well, when not carrying paga, dancing in the sand. A slave girl is not permitted to conceal her skill as a dancer from Sarpedon, her master. Yes, she would have been beaten. Then, that night, as Sarpedon had promised, she would dance.
As she danced, I trusted that she would think of me.
She had made her decision. It had been a brave decision. But it had not been a decision without its risks. She had gambled. She had lost.
I thought, too, of Telima. She, too, had made her decision. Let her remain, if she wished, in her beloved marshes.