Marcus and I, with the armbands of auxiliary guardsmen, saluted a Cosian officer whom we passed.
"Tarsk," grumbled Marcus.
"He is probably a nice enough fellow," I said.
"Sometimes I regret that you are a dear friend," he said.
"Why is that?" I asked.
"It makes it improper to challenge you to mortal combat," he said.
"Folks have occasionally slain their dearest friends," I said.
"That is true," he said, brightening up.
"Just because someone is your mortal enemy," I said, "does not mean that you have to dislike him."
"I suppose not," said Marcus.
"Of course not," I said.
We walked on.
"You are just in a bad mood," I said. Such moods were not uncommon with Marcus. "Perhaps," he said.
"Does Phoebe have her period?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"You were out late last night," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Frequenting the taverns?" I asked.
"No," he said. "I was wandering about."
"It is now dangerous to walk the streets of Ar at night," I said.
"For whom?" he said.
"For anyone, I suppose," I said.
"Perhaps," he said.
"Where did you walk?" I asked.
"In the Anbar district," he said.
"That is a dangerous district," I said, "even formerly." It and the district of Trevelyan were two of the most dangerous districts in Ar, even before the fall of the city.
"Oh?" he said.
"Yes," I assured him. "It is frequented by brigands."
"It is now frequented by two less than yesterday," he said.
"Why do you do these things?" I asked.
"My sword," he said, "was thirsty."
"I am angry," I said.
"I made a profit on the transaction," he said.
"You robbed the brigands?" I asked.
"Their bodies," he said.
"We do not need the money," I said. Indeed, we had most of a hundred gold pieces left, a considerable fortune, which we had obtained last summer in the vicinity of Brundisium.
"Well, I did not really do it for the money," he said.
"I see," I said.
"Not all values are material," Marcus reminded me.
"You should not risk your life in such a way," I said, angrily.
"What else is there to do?" he asked.
"I am sure you could think of something," I said, "if you seriously put your mind to it."
"Not it is you who seem in an ill humor," he remarked.
"If you find yourself spitted in the Anbar district that will not much profit the Home Stone of Ar's Station," I said.
"You told me that the Home Stone of Ar's Station would be exhibited again," he said.
"I am sure it will be," I said.
"That was months ago," he said.
"Be patient," I said.
"I do not even know where it is," he said. "It may be in Telnus by now."
"I do not think so," I said.
"At least those of Ar know where their Home Stone is," he said.
"Do not be surly," I said.
"You do not think it is in Telnus?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I think it is still in Ar."
"Why?" he asked.
"I have an excellent reason," I said.
"Would you be so kind as to share this reason with me?" asked Marcus.
"No," I said.
"Why not?" he asked.
"You are too noble to take it seriously," I said.
"Thank you," said her, "perhaps."
We paused to drink, from the upper basin of a fountain.
"Listen," I said.
"Yes," he said.
We turned about.
Some twenty men, stripped, in heavy metal collars, these linked by heavy chains, their hands behind their backs, presumably manacled, prodded now and then by the butts of guards' spears, were approaching. Behind the line came a flute girl, sometimes turning about, playing the instrument. It was this sound we had heard. Some folks stopped to watch.
"Political prisoners," said Marcus.
That could be told by the fact that the ears and noses of the prisoners had been painted yellow, to make them appear ridiculous.
"Interesting," said Marcus, "that they would parade them so publicly down the Avenue of the Central Cylinder."
"It is to be expected," I said. "If they were conducted out of the city in secret there would be much inquiry, much resentment, much clamor, much objection. It would be as though the Central Cylinder wished to conceal the fate imposed upon them, as though they were afraid of its becoming public, as though it might not be legitimately defensible. In this way, on the other hand, it performs its action openly, without special attention but, too, without stealth. It says, thusly, the action is in order, that it is acceptable, even trivial. Too, of course, it hopes to enlist public approbation by the painting of the ears and noses, thus suggesting that any who might disagree with its policies must be mad or dunces, at best objects of caricature and ridicule."
"Those in the Central Cylinder are clever," said Marcus.
"They may miscalculate," I said.
"Whence are these fellows bound?" asked Marcus.
"Probably the quarries of Tyros," I said.
"There must be many in Ar who will have scores to settle with the Ubara," he said.
"I suspect," I said, "that these arrests are more the work of Seremides, and Antonius, of the High Council."
"You would defend Talena of Ar?" he asked.
"I would not blame her for more than that for which she is responsible," I said. "Surely her complicity is clear," he said.
I was silent.
"She is an arch conspirator in the downfall of Ar," he said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"What does she mean to you?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said.
The men were now filing past, with their guards. Their hands, indeed, were manacled behind their backs.
"Some of those men may have been high in the city," said Marcus.
"Undoubtedly," I said.
"Some even have signs about their necks," said Marcus.
"I am not familiar with the politics of Ar," I said, "so I do not recognize the names."
"I know the name of the last fellow," said Marcus. "Mirus Torus."
The sign about his neck had that name on it, and also the word, "Traitor."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"I assume," said Marcus, "that he is the Mirus Torus who was the executive officer of the High Council before Gnieus Lelius, and later held the same office under the regency of Gnieus Lelius."
"I think I have heard of him," I said.
"For some months he was under house arrest," said Marcus.
"The Central Cylinder," I said, "seems now to be very sure of its power."
"Doubtless it was encouraged by its success in the matter of the Home Stone," said Marcus.