Samos shrugged. "I suppose so," he said.
"You may have endangerd yourself by your delaying," I said.
"How is that?" asked Samos.
"The Sarder transmits a clear message," I said. "Instead of an acknowledgement and compliance report it recieves a request for clarification or confirmation, and that from an agent of high intelligence an dproven efficiency. This informed the Sardar that you were reluctant to carry out the orders. Furthermore, our friendship is not unknown, I am sure, to the Sardar. It is not difficult to conjecture the nature of the response in the Sardar. Presumably it has been decided that oyu are not to be relied upon in this matter. Indeed, you yourself, in virtue of your reswponse, may now be suspect to them."
"I recieved the confirmation yesterday," said Samos, lamely.
"That may have been to conceal from you any apprehensions existing in the Sardar as to your loyalty."
"Perhaps," he whispered.
"In any event the delay between the messages has given independent agents of Priest-Kings time to arrive in Port Kar. It may also have been noted that you did not act immediately upon the receipt of the confirmation."
"What are you saying?" asked Samos, agast.
"I think I have an explanation which makes sense of this little arrair in the booth," I said.
"No!" said Samos.
I looked down at the fellow in the rich robes, the knife protruding from his chest.
"I think I have just killed an agent of Priest-Kings," I said.
"No!" said Samos.
I shrugged. We could hear the sounds of carnival outside.
"If anyone," said Samos, "Kurii must have sent him."
"Perhaps," I said.
"Priest-Kings would not behave in such a way," said Samos.
"Perhaps," I said.
"Leave the city," he said.
"In his wallet were staters of Brundisium," I said. "Do you know anything about Brundisium, anything having to do with either Priest-King or Kurii?"
"No," said Samos.
"Then the Brundisium staters are probably meaningless," I said.
"I would suppose so," said Samos. "They are, of course, a valuable stater. There would be noting incredible about thier use being specified in a given transaction."
"Why not coinage of Ar," I asked, "or that of Port Kar, or of Asperiche, or Tharna, or Tyros, or Schendi, or Turia?"
"I do not know," said Samos.
"How will I know if it is safe to return to Port Kar?" I asked.
"From time to time," said Samos, "presumably you youself, incognito, or an agent acting on your behalf, might be in the city. Do you know the slave chains I have hanging behind the banner on the banner bar to the left of my threshold, where the bar meets the wall, those that have tied there with them a bit of scarlet slave silk?"
"Yes," I said.
"When it is safe for you to again appear publicly in Port Kar, when it is safe for you to again make contact with me, the scarlet slave silk will be replaced with yellow."
"I understand," I said.
"I wish you well," he said. We clapsed hands.
"I wish you well," I said.
Samos then withdrew from the booth. I remained inside for a few Ehn. It would not be well for him to be seen with me at this time. I looked at the man on the rug, that flooring the booth spread over the tiels of the piazza, he in whose heart I had left his own knife. I recalled the tale of Yngvar, the Far-Traveled. There was a new order, I surmised, in the Sardar. I did not regret what I had done in the case of Zarendargar. Once we had shared paga.
"I listened to the merriment of the revelers outside, to the cires, the horns and music.
I must leave Port Kar tonight. I would go to my holding; I would make arrangements; I would obtain weapons, moneys, letters of credit. I could be gone in two Ahn, on tarnback, before Priest-Kings discovered the failure of their plans.
I looked back at the samll, lovely redheaded slave bound hand and foot on the large cushion, the wallet filled with teh staters of Brundisium tied at her collar. Throughout all that had transpired in the booth she had not regained consciousness. Tassa powder is efficient.
I then left the booth. In a moment I was again making my way through the crowds of carnival.
I was bitter.
I would take no men with me. I had no wish to endanger them, nor to involve them in the dark matters of warring worlds. Too, the best guarantee of the safety of Samos, ti seemed to me, was my departure from the city. He was my friend. He had risked much fo rme. I could be gone in two Ahn, on tarnback, before Priest-Kings discovered the failure of their plans.
"Paga?" inquired a fellow.
"Of course," I said. It was carnival.
We exchanged swigs, I from his bota, he from mine. Then he turned aside, to offer paga to another. I stepped back, while one of the gigantic fellows, on stilts, stalked by. I was jostled. I checked my wallet. It was intact.
I then continued on my way, pressing through the throngs.
"Master," said a woman, kneeling before me. She put down her head and kissed my feet, and then looked up at me.
I recognized her. She was the free woman whom I had seen earlier, she masquerading as a slave, with the brief bit of cloth about her hips.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"I have been in agony for two Ahn," she said. "I am now ready, of my own free will, to go to a rack."
Ilooked down at her. Women are very beautiful on thier knees.
"Please," she said, "-Master."
"precede me," I said.
She rose to her feet and, frightened, trrembling, I behind her, made her way through the crowds.
At one point we were literally stopped in the press.
"Paga?" asked a fellow, waiting beside me. We exchanged swigs. Then, in a few moments, the ccrowd loosened and, once again, I followed the female.
She came to the foot of a rack and stopped, regarding it. It was one of the strap racks, not a simple net rack, or rope rack. It was now open. Frightened, she crawled upon it, and then lay on it, on her back, on the broad, soft, flat, smooth, comfortable interlaced straps.
"I have never been on a rack before," she said.
"Not all of them are this comfortable," I assured her.
"I do not doubt it," she smiled. The comfort of the slave may or may not be taken into consideration by the master, as it pleases him. They are only slaves.
"You are a free woman," I said. "You need not go through with this."
"Touch me," she said.
"Paga?" asked a fellow. We exchanged swigs. Then he was on his way. He had not concerned himself with the woman. He had assumed she was a slave. She was, after all, half naked, in a collar and on a pleasure rack.
"I had to wait," she said, wonderingly.
"If you are going to masquerade as a salve," I said, "you should grow accustomed, at least in some respects, to being treated as a slave."
"Yes," she said.
"Suppose it were not a masquerade," I said.
"I understand," she said. Her eyes briefly clouded. I saw that she was frightened. I saw that she had just had some inkling as to what it might be to be truly a slave, to be truly, utterly, at the mercy of masters.
"Leap up," I suggested. "Flee the rack. Hurry home. If the straps are fastened upon you, it will be too late."
"No," she whispered.
"But what of respect and dignity?" I asked. "Surely you desire these, desperately."
"I have had respect and dignity for years," she said, "and they are empty! I have had my fill of respect and dignity! For years I have been betrayed and deluded by those trivializing, vacuous, negative verbalitites! I do not want respect and dignity! Obviously they are not the answer. If they were, I should be happy, but I am not! I do not want respect and dignity! I want fulfillment, and truth!"
I saw that her sexual drives were far too strong to be appropriate for those of a free woman. In her there was an eager, succumbing slave.