I lay beside her and kissed her, and held her, for a moment.
"Thank you," she breathed.
"I think there is a slave in you," I said.
"I know. I know, Master," she whispered.
"Perhaps you should consider the collar," I said.
"Such thoughts are not new to me," she said. "I have had them for years."
"It must be a difficult choice for a woman," I said, "the choice between freedom and love."
I rose from the rack, and drew my robes about me.
"I have business to attend to," I said. I should soon leave the city. I adjusted my wallet.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I freed her from the flexible, efficient restraints, and helped her courteously from the rack.
"Thank you," she said. "You are very kind." I restrained her from kneeling. She was, after all, a free woman. "Was I pleasing?" she asked.
"That question seems more appropriate to a slave than a free woman," I said.
"I ask it," she said.
"Is it important to you?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Yes," I said. "You were pleasing."
"Wonderful!" she said.
"For a free woman," I added.
"Oh," she said.
"Certainly you did not think to be able to compete with a slave," I said. "You would not have her experience, her skills, her training. You have not been forced to live with and endure slave heat. You have not been forced to learn submission, obedience, service, passion and love. You have not yet been sensitized to her collar."
"Suppose I became a slave," she said. "Do you think I might become a pleasing slave?"
"You have generated a great deal of heat," I said. "That is an excellent sign."
"Do you think, in time, I might make an adequate slave?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "and perhaps, in time, even a superb one."
"That is high praise," she smiled.
"You had better wear this," I said, handing her the brief bit of cloth which she had worn about her hips. "If men see you without it, they may be stimulated, and you may be raped several times on the tiles before you manage to leave the piazza. Many men are drunk here tonight and they may be careless. They may not think to chick your body for brands. You might be had before they determined their error."
Smiling, she tied the cloth about her hips.
"Farewell," said I, "Free Woman."
"Will I see you again?" she asked.
"It is not likely," I speculated.
"Do you wish to know my name?" she asked.
"No," I said, "nor is it needful for you to know mine."
"I see," she said.
"It was only a touching at carnival," I said.
"I see," she said.
"Happy carnival," I said.
"Happy carnival," she said. Then she turned about and, sobbing, fled away. I watched her go. Her body was hormonally rich. That was evident in the configuration of her beauty and in her dispositions and reflexes, exhibited on the rack. Too, she was profoundly feminine. She had now disappeared among the revelers. Her body, I though, would make the decision for her.
"I see that you have won the favor of a free woman," said a man.
"What?" I asked. I thought he referred to the free woman, she who had just disappeared among the revelers.
"That," he said, indicating the silken favor in the eyelet of my robes.
"Oh!" I said. "yes, it would seem so." I looked at the favor. I had forgotten it.
"Paga?" said he, extending his bota.
"Surely," I said. We exchanged swigs of paga.
"It must be ice to have won the favor of a free woman," he said.
"I and a few hundred other fellows," I said.
"That particular favor," he said.
"Alas," I said, "even there I fear I am but one of ten."
"One out of fifteen," he said.
"Oh?" I said.
"Yes," he said.
I shrugged. The game of favors can be played with any number of favors and contestants, but the usual number of favors distributed is ten.
"Happy carnival," he said.
"Happy carnival," I said.
I turned to proceed to the check point where I would turn in my numbered receipt and reclaim my weapons. The crowds had thinned now, but the piazza was till, for the most part, crowded.
I stumbled, and then straightened myself. Surely I had not had that much paga.
I took another step or two, and then I slipped to one knee. The piazza seemed to move beneath me. I caught my balance. I was conscious of masks and costumes swirling about.
"What is wrong?" asked a voice.
"He has had too much paga," said another voice.
I wanted to rise to my feet, but I slipped to the tiles.
"It is al right," said a voice.
Things began to grow dark. I fought to retain consciousness. It was difficult to move. I could not speak.
"Put a mask on him," whispered a voice.
I felt a carnival mask fastened on me.
"No," I seemed to say, but no sound escaped my lips.
I felt myself lifted to my feet, each of my arms held about the shoulders of a man.
"What is wrong with him," asked a voice.
"Too much paga," responded a voice.
"Is he all right?" asked a voice.
"Yes," said a voice.
"No!" I wanted to cry, but could not.
"Do you require help?" asked a man.
"No," said a voice, that of one of the two men supporting me.
"Are you sure?" asked the man.
"Yes, citizen," said the other fellow supporting me. "We will manage quite well. Thank you."
I then sensed we were alone.
"Put him in the boat, with the others," said a voice. It was a woman's voice.
I then lost consciousness.
3 Lady Yanina
"That one," she had said. "Have him brought to my tent."
"Go in," said the guard.
I lowered my head and entered the tent. I moved my hands upon my wrists. They were ringed and sore where the manacles, too closely fitted, had clasped them. I straightened my body.
The tent was one of rich cloths, supported by five poles. It was rich with hangings and, about its interior circumference, furnished with suitable appointments, including vessels, cushions, a low inlaid table, cases and trunks. These, with the various materials for the tent, and its poles, had been disembarked from a large, high-wheeled wagon. I, with several others, in harness, some others chained by the neck behind, had drawn this wagon for the past two days.
I, and others, had awakened to the blows of spear butts, three days ago.
"On your knees," we had been told, "head to the dirt! You are in the presence of your Mistress!"
We had struggled to our knees. Our hands were namacled behind our backs. There seemed the stench of fish on us. We were connected by the neck, by collars and chains.
I had been aware of someone stopping before me.
"Lift your head," had said a woman's voice.
I looked up. She was veiled, and clad, too, in robes of concealment, sumptuous robes which seemed incongruous in the open terrain, the grassy field, in which I found myself. I looked about, seeing what guards I could. I saw five. I felt her tharlarion quirt at the side of my face, indicating I should keep my head forward. Then it pressed up, under my chin. I lifted my head higher, obedient to the quirt, looking up at her. "That is better," she said. She looked at me. "It seems I have won the game of favors," she said.
"At least for now," I said.
"In the distribution of my favors in the piazza in Port Kar," she said, "I had two major criteria in mind. Would you like to know what they were?"
"Of course," I said.
"First," she said, "the males must be large and strong. They must be suitable for inclusion in a work chain. They must be capable, with their bestial strength, of sustaining indefinitely so onerous a servitude."
"And what is your second criterion," I asked, "that which they must also meet, what is that?"