"I think that I shall make the acquaintance of your lady," I said.
"Do not!" he said.
"To complain of your interference with the duties of a state slave," I said. "She is in converse!" he said.
"No matter!" I said.
"Do not interrupt her!" he said.
"Perhaps you wish to stop me? I said.
"No!" he said. He then turned and hurried away, toward the palanquin.
"It is my recommendation," I said to Lavinia, "that you route yourself about and rendezvous with our quarry on Tarn Court, underneath the bowers. As I understand it that is his accustomed path. Also, in this way it will seem as though I sent you away, hurrying you back to your proper business."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Tuck the note in your tunic," I said. "Deliver it when the opportune moment arises."
"Yes, Master," she said. She kissed the note, and then thrust it into her tunic. "It is a well-written note," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said. She herself, as it had turned out, had written the note, it compliant, of course, with my directives and objectives. Marcus and I had struggled with the note for a time and then, for all practical purposes, had given it up. Lavinia had then composed it. It was sensitive, lyrical, tender, poignant and touching, the desperate, pleading letter of a highly intelligent, profoundly feminine, extremely vulnerable, extremely needful woman hopelessly in love, one eager to abandon herself and to surrender all to the lover. Both Marcus and myself were astonished that Lavinia did such an excellent job with it. It was almost as though she were writing the letter in her own behalf, and not as part of a plot. Only Phoebe had not seemed surprised, but had merely smiled. She did make a couple of suggestions, about the formation of certain letters, but, as it turned out, such things were common in the cursive script of Ar, a point in which Marcus concurred with Lavinia. The script of Ar's Station is, apparently, for the most practical purposes at any rate, the same as that of Ar. There are some differences in speech, that is, in accent, but even they tend to be negligible. For example, whereas Marcus' speech would have attracted immediate attention in Tyros or Cos, or even in the western Vosk basin, it attracted little, if any, attention in Ar.
"You understand why I did not permit the fellow to cuff you, do you not?" I asked.
"To protect me, Master," she said.
"Not really," I said. "There are other sorts of points more involved. First, there is a consideration of fittingness. For example, whereas others, particularly on certain occasions, and in certain circumstances, may, and should discipline you, this did not seem to me to be such an occasion, or such a set of circumstances. For most practical purposes, you see, you are primarily mine to cuff, or beat, as I might please, and not others."
"Yes, Master," she said, swallowing hard.
"Secondly," I said, "I do not want you to present yourself before our quarry with, say, a scarlet cheek, or a swollen bloodied lip, such things. Such might provoke distractive speculation."
"I understand, Master," she said.
I glanced down Aulus, to the palanquin, still in its place. "You speed about," I said to Lavinia. "Our quarry will be along shortly. His conversation with the lady in the palanquin, although she is perhaps unaware of it, is about to conclude."
"What if I cannot do it, Master," suddenly wept Lavinia.
"I do not understand," I said.
"What if I should die of fear, not even daring to approach him?"
"I am prepared to take that risk," I told her.
"Master!" she said. "I am serious!"
"I doubt that you can manage it to die of fear in this business," I said, "but if you should manage it, I shall just have to find another girl."
"I see," she said.
"So, rest easy," I said. "As you see, there is nothing to worry about."
"I am much set at my ease," she said.
I crouched down before her.
"What are you?" I asked.
"A slave," she said.
"What else?" I asked.
"Only that," she said. "A slave, and only that."
"That is what you must remember," I said to her, softly. "When he approaches remember that, and its truth, in your mind, your heart and belly, that you are a slave, and only that."
"I see, Master," she smiled, through tears.
"I do not think you will fail," I said, "and if you do, do not fear, you will be severely beaten."
"I do not think I will now fail, Master," she smiled.
"Good," I said, standing up.
"You are so kind," she said.
"It seems you do wish to be beaten," I said.
"No, Master!" she said.
Then I waved my arm, back down Aulus street. "Do not dally here, slave girl," I said, loudly. "Be off. Be about your duties!"
"Yes, Master," she said, springing up, and hurrying back down Aulus.
I had decided that it would be better for her to carry the note in her tunic, in order that it not attract attention. The free man, for example, had noticed it. It had been all right for her to carry it in her hand, I had thought, when we had hoped that she would be able to deliver it almost immediately, say, behind the theater, but it seemed now she would have to wait a little, say, until our quarry reached Tarn Court, which, if had anything to do with it, would not be long.
I turned and looked at the palanquin. In a moment I was beside it.
"One side," I said to the handsome interlocutor standing beside the palanquin. "Oh!" said the woman within it, drawing back.
"I feared this," said the free fellow I had talked to earlier, up the street. The handsome interlocutor, our quarry, of course, did not interfere, but stood back. Had I insisted on it, he must kneel. He was slave.
"What is the meaning of this!" exclaimed the woman, hastily raising her veil, holding it about her face.
"This fellow," I said, indicating the free fellow with whom I had held brief converse but a moment or so ago, "interfered with the progress of a state slave."
"Be off!" said the woman.
"I thought you would like to know that," I said.
"Pummel him!" she said to the free fellow.
"That might not be wise," he said. He glanced to the other free fellow with the palanquin. Their exchange of glances suggested that his fellow fully corroborated his speculation.
"Will no one protect a free woman?" she inquired.
The handsome interlocutor, at this point, seemed for a moment undecided. He might even have been considering the wisdom, all things considered, of hastening forward. I said to him, rudely, I fear, considering his indubitable fame and talent, controversial though the latter might be, "Kneel!"
Immediately he did so.
"Oh!" said the woman in dismay, seeing the handsome fellow put to his knees. The two fellows with the handsome fellow, both free men, started forward a little at this point, but I threw them a welcoming, menacing glance, and they, looking to one another, decided to remain in the background. After all, on what ground should they object to a legitimate command issued by a free person to one who, after all, was but a slave?
"Attack him!" said the woman to the free men with her.
"He is armed!" said the fellow I had met earlier.
Actually I was not armed today, as I was not in uniform, not wearing, that is, the armband of the auxiliary guardsman, and I did not want to be stopped by guardsmen, line or auxiliary, as being in possible violation of the injunction against unauthorized weapons in the city, that injunction which placed a populace at the mercy of anyone armed. When I had reached to my tunic earlier, of course, I had merely meant to convey the suggestion to the fellow that I had a concealed weapon there. This suggestion he, a bright fellow, had been quick to accept. To be sure, had I been really armed, I would not have cared to be he, calling the bluff.
"Be off!" cried the women. "Or I shall set my bearers on you!"