"He had better not," said Marcus.
"He will not," I said. "But if he chose to do so, surely one could not blame him. It is not his Home Stone. He is not a soldier. You are not his officer, or Ubar, or some such."
"True," said Marcus.
"Be grateful," I said, "if he is willing to be of assistance."
"I wish to owe him little," said Marcus. "I will see that he is well paid."
"Very well," I said.
"Do you think he can be prevailed upon to accept money?" asked Marcus.
"Doubtless, if we are strenuous enough in our insistence on the matter," I said. "Good," he said, grimly.
"He is really not a bad fellow," I said.
Marcus made an angry noise.
"I think it would be better if you were not present when he makes the attempt on the Home Stone," I said.
"I will be there," said Marcus. "He may need help."
"It will not be much help," I said, "if you drop him on the spot."
"What does that mean?" he asked.
"If he does manage to obtain the Home Stone and you run him through, and it drops out of his cloak on the street, and it becomes immediately apparent to the guards about that there appear to be two Home Stones of Ar's Station in the vicinity, what then?"
"I shall seize it up and make away," he said.
"There may be a hundred guards about," I said.
"Doubtless you will be at hand," he said.
"But what if there are one hundred and one guards about?" I said.
"You jest," he said.
"What do you think your chances will be of getting the stone out of the city, let alone to Port Cos?"
"I do not know," he admitted.
"The alarm would be sounded within Ihn," I said.
"Doubtless," he granted.
"You would be fortunate if you managed to get the stone as far as the Teiban Market," I said. "If I did not know your skill with the sword, I would have placed a bet you would not get it as far as Clive." This street actually entered the Avenue of the Central Cylinder, from the west.
"I have nerves of steel," said Marcus. "I can control my emotions with perfection."
"As five days ago?" I asked.
"He needn't have been as ribald as he was," said Marcus.
"There are at least two reasons for what he did," I said. "First, the length of his tirade gave him time to study the Home Stone, in all its details. Secondly, it established a character. If he come back during the same watch, as he presumably will, the guards will remember him, and expect a show."
"Then they will be more attentive," said Marcus.
"But to him, not to the Home Stone," I said.
"You said "at least two reasons, " said Marcus. "That suggests there might be at least one other."
"Perhaps," I said, evasively.
"What?" he asked, not pleasantly.
"He was enjoying himself," I said.
"He should have been impaled!" said Marcus.
"Master," begged Phoebe.
"I should have run him through!" exclaimed Marcus.
"Master!" whimpered Phoebe.
The new slave whimpered, too, urgently, helplessly, plaintively, to call her needs, and herself, to my attention.
"I think it would be better if you were not present when the attempt is made on the Home Stone," I said.
"You are in one of your rational moods," said Marcus, disgustedly.
"Almost everyone has them occasionally," I said. "Also, I thought you were supposed to be the rational one."
"I shall think about it," he said.
"The important thing here," I said, "is not your sense of honor, which seems a bit touchy, but the rescue of the Home Stone."
"This is more of Your Kaissa," he said.
"Master," begged Phoebe.
He looked down at her, fiercely.
"A slave begs," she said, "that her master consent to enter her."
"Oh!" she cried, as Marcus, fiercely, took her in his arms.
"It is I who am impaled," she laughed. "It is I who am run through!"
"But as befits female slaves!" he said.
"Yes, Master!" she laughed. Then she closed her eyes. "Oh, yes!" she said. She gasped. She sighed, softly. "Deign to use me, unworthy slave though I am," she whispered, "as the cover for your spear, as your sheath and scabbard."
"And it is done, is it not?" he asked.
"Yes, Master!" she said.
"And in the manner befitting female slaves?" he asked.
"Yes, Master!" she said.
He kissed her, his head down, fiercely about the throat.
Her head was back. Her eyes were closed. "I have received my master," she said. "I, too, would receive my master," whispered the new slave.
"I will write the letter for you," mumbled Marcus, his words lost somewhere in Phoebe's neck.
I will require further assistance, as well," I said.
"It is yours," he said.
"I do not think it will interfere in any way with the recovery of the Home Stone," I said.
"Yes," mumbled Marcus. "Yes, yes,"
I regarded the new slave. She turned her head toward me. Her eyes were filled with tears. She whimpered. I seized her, turned her and threw her to her back, with a sound of the chain, beside me, on the blanket, spread over the boards. I touched her, lightly, and she lifted her body, piteously. She looked up at me. She whimpered. I gently touched her breasts. Again she whimpered. They were very beautiful, and their condition, like that of her whole body, signified her readiness, and need. Tears of supplication welled in her eyes.
I touched her lightly about the waist, and she moved almost as though she might have been burned. Even the chain had jerked.
"You are a hot slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I touched her.
"Oh!" she said.
"And you juice exceedingly well," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
I looked down at her. How amazing, how astonishing, and wonderful are female slaves. How, too, this woman's life had changed! What a dramatic volte-face, from a free woman to a slave! How different she was from a free woman, this slave, hot, needful, beautiful, owned, obedient, begging. Too, had not been that long in bondage.
I looked down upon her.
"Are you a slave?" I asked.
"Yes," she whimpered. "Subjugate me."
I then took her in my arms.
"Now I, too, am impaled," she whispered. "Now I, too, have been run through. Now, I, too, have received my master. Now, I, too, am cover to his spear. Now, I, too, serve him as sheath and scabbard!"
"But such things in manners befitting the female slave," I said.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, ecstatically.
"You may move as you wish," I said.
"Yes, Master!" she said.
"Hold!" I said.
"Master?" she asked.
"Hold, a little," I said.
"Yes, Master," she moaned.
"You squirm well," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"It seems you are already on the brink," I said.
"I was there even before you put me to my back," she said.
"Even from such small things as keeping you in a certain position, checking your ankle ring and collar, touching you a little now and then, here and there?"