I turned away.
"I know wear a holding tag, Master," she said to the slaver's man. "May I break position?"
I heard the lash fall upon her. "Forgive me, Master!" she cried.
How stupid her question had been. Did she not know that the prospective buyer might not prove to be interested in her, and that she might in the meantime, by lax postures or attitudes, be discouraging other occurrences of interest; too, what of the other slaves and the aesthetic integrity of the display line; too, the prospective buyer might appear earlier than was anticipated. Too, did she think her discipline would be relaxed because someone might be interested in her? No! It would be trebled!
"Ah!" had cried Boots, later, about the seventeenth Ahn, when he had first seen her. "But wait! She wears a holding disk!"
"Do not fear," I had said, "It is for your inspection that she is being held."
"Oh?" said Boots.
"I arranged it," I said.
"Let us take a look at her," said Boots.
In the end Boots got her for two silver tarsks. This is a high price for an untrained slave but, to be sure, all things considered, she was an excellent buy. Too, she seemed ideal for Boots's purposes. She would doubtless make a splendid "golden courtesan" and, after performances, there was little doubt but what she would prove popular in the sex tents. Too, getting her for two silver tarsks, though perhaps somewhat more than Boots cared to pay, left him a full three silver tarsks, the residue of his profit from the sale of the Brigella. Three silver tarsks would surely tide him over, and his company, until the next performances, presumably to take place somewhere other than on the fairgrounds.
"I do not know what I shall do without my Brigella," moaned Boots, preparing to pay the slaver's man.
"Look at it this way," I said. "You are at least getting a golden courtesan."
"There are more Brigella roles," said Boots.
"Well, this girl is not a Brigella," I said.
"True," lamented Boots.
"Perhaps you should not have sold your Brigella," I said.
"I needed the money," said Boots.
"Two silver tarsks," said the slaver's man.
"The price is steep," said Boots. "Could we not reconsider the matter?"
"Two silver tarsks," said the man.
"Would you care to make it double or nothing, on the basis of some wager of your choosing, such as in cups and pebbles?" he asked.
"Two," said the man.
"I have the cups and a pebble, by some stroke of luck, in my wallet," said Boots.
"Two," said the fellow. This game, like many such games, of various types, involves guessing. Small, inverted metal cups are used. A coin, pebble, or small object is supposedly placed beneath one of the cups. They are then moved about, rapidly. The odds are with the "house," so to speak, particularly if the coin or pebble is not placed under one of the cups. I was already familiar with Boots's skill in slight-of-hand manipulations from Port Kar. "Two," repeated the man. Boots then paid him. The slaver's man, of course, was well pleased with the sale. It was a good price, and it was a particularly good one for a slow market.
I had no difficulty in recovering m ten copper tarsks, put down to hold the girl for Boots's later inspection.
"Are you pleased with your buy?" I asked Boots later, when we were leaving the market, the girl following behind us, heeling us, her wrists tied behind her back with a string.
"She was pretty expensive," said Boots.
"But you are pleased, are you not?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Are you grateful?" I asked.
"Eternally, undyingly," he assured me.
"Perhaps you would consider granting me a favor," I said.
"Just ask," he said.
"I would like to join your troupe," I said.
"No," he said.
"I thought you just said to 'just ask'," I said.
"You are correct," said Boots. "That is exactly what I had in mine, that you should just ask, only that, and nothing more. Now, where are my wagons?"
"You are a hard man," I said.
"Yes," he said, "I am a grim fellow. But one does not attain my heights by being soft."
"Your wagons are in that direction," I informed him.
"Thank you," he said.
"You will not reconsider?" I asked.
"No," said Boots, "and what am I to do without a Brigella?"
"I do not know," I said.
"I am ruined," said Boots.
"Perhaps not," I opined, hopefully.
"Are you a business man?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"I will thank you, then," said Boots, "to have the decency to refrain from forming an opinion on the matter."
"Sorry," I said.
"Do you know where I can find a Brigella?" he asked.
"Perhaps you could buy one," I said.
"Not just any girl can be a Brigella," he said.
"I suppose not," I said.
"I am ruined," he said.
"At least you now have a golden courtesan," I said, "and I expect that she will prove profitable in the tent as well."
"Perhaps," said Boots.
"I would like to join your troupe," I said.
"It is out of the question," said Boots. "Now, where are those wagons?"
"That way," I said.
"Thank you," he said.
"More to the left," I said.
"Thank you," he said.
"You would not have to pay me!" I called out, after him.
"No, no," he said, waving his hand, "it is out of the question." He then continued on his way, muttering about Brigellas, expenses, free women, fate, elusive wagons and the woes that sometimes afflict honest men.
Security in Brundisium, I had learned earlier from Boots, was tight. I wondered why this might be. I was curious to know, too, why at least some in that city seemed to have an interest in Tarl Cabot, or Bosk, of Port Kar. Much seemed to me mysterious in Brundisium. It might be an interesting place to go visiting, I thought. Too, it had been a long time since I had gone hunting. I was sorry that I had not been able to join Boots's troupe. None, I thought, would be likely to suspect a lowly member of a group of strolling players. It would have been a superb cover. Tomorrow, before nightfall, I suspected, Boots's wagons would leave the fair, probably heading west, probably on the road of Clearchus. It is a dangerous road. There was no law against two traveling it. Boots had disappeared now among the booths and stalls of the fair.
"Please, let me yield!" she whispered. "I beg to be permitted to yield! Please, Master, let me yield! Please, Master! Please, Master!"
I looked down into her eyes. She looked up at me, through her hair, wildly, piteously.
"No," I said.
She moaned. She tried to control her breathing. Her beauty was held tense, rigid, almost motionless. I heard the tiniest sound of the chain on her ankle. the collar, the flat, snug, unslippable band on her throat, locked behind the back of her neck, was lovely.
We were some two hundred pasangs west of the fairgrounds, at the edge of the woods of Clearchus, just off the road of Clearchus. I had traveled for the last few days in the vicinity of the troupe of Boots, but not really with it. We had traversed the woods of Clearchus, Boots losing little time in the business, without incident. He had, this afternoon, at the edge of the woods, for local villagers, given his first performances since the fair, from which, as we had anticipated, he had been duly expelled, that following from various complaints lodged with the fair's board of governance by a certain free woman, the Lady Telitsia of Asperiche. He had also, given the supposed gravity of his offenses, been fined three silver tarsks and publicly flogged.
He had not been in a good mood that evening. Such things, of course, are not that unusual in the lives of players. Worse, perhaps, two of his company had joined another troupe, taking advantage of an opportunity at the fair, the fellows who commonly played the comic father and the comic pedant. Boots was now trying to make do with his Chino and Lecchio, two other fellows, his Bina and his new "golden courtesan." Things were so bad that he had, this afternoon, actually interspersed his dramatic offering with what were more in the nature of variety or carnival acts. One must make do as one can.