"I do not know," she said.
"Do you think they were with you last night, similarly ordered to silence?" "I do not know," she said.
"What have you heard on the ship?" he asked.
"Little," she said. "I have heard men conducting the business of the ship." "Have you perhaps formed some conjectures as to the origins of these men?" "Yes," she said.
"On what basis?" he asked.
"On their speech," she said.
"Their speech?" he asked.
"Their accents," she said.
"Does my speech have an accent?" asked Calliodorus, interested.
"Yes," she said.
"Ah," he said. He, like most people, was not accustomed to thinking of his own speech as having an accent.
"And what is my accent?" he asked.
"I make it out to be Cosian," she whispered.
"And what of the accents of the men?" he asked.
"The same," she said.
"In whose power are you then?" he asked.
"In the power of Cosians!" she said, suddenly, now sure of it.
"You may speak," he said.
"Spare me!" she suddenly begged. "Spare me, noble Cosians!" She clasped her hands together piteously, holding them forth toward Calliodorus and Aemilianus. "Spare me!" she wept. "Take pity on a female!"
The men were silent, observant.
Their silence must have been disconcerting to the girl. She indicated her beauty, as she could, with her chained hands.
"I think that I am not unattractive," she said, piteously, desperately. "See? See? And it is my hope that my face, too, should you be pleased to look upon it, may be found not unattractive!"
"Do you seek to interest your captors?" he asked.
"Yes!" she said.
"As a female?" he asked.
"Yes!" she said.
"Say it," said he.
"I seek to interest my captors," she said, "as a female!" "What have you have of us?" he inquired.
"My life!" she wept.
"On what condition?" he asked.
"Any of your election," she said.
"Absolute bondage?" he asked.
"Of course!" she said, unhesitantly.
"Even to Cosians?" he asked.
"Certainly!" she said.
"Why should Cosians accept you as a slave?" he asked.
"Ia€”I do not understand," she faltered.
"Do you think it would be in their interest to accept you as a slave?" he asked. "I do not understand," she said.
"Do you think you would prove to be of any value to them as a slave?" "I would strive desperately to be of value," she said.
"Perhaps you should be bloodied and thrown overboard to river sharks." "No!" she wept.
"Do you think that just any woman can make a satisfactory slave?"
"I do not know," she said, "but I beg the opportunity to try!"
"You would serve Cosians then?" he asked.
"Yes!" she wept.
"Belly," he said.
She slipped to her belly on the deck, her hands up, beneath her shoulders. She lifted herself a little from the deck, lifting her head, still half concealed in hood, to Calliodorus and Aemilianus. Her lips were lovely, and trembling. "Go to your back," said Calliodorus.
She lay on her back.
Suddenly she lifted one knee, and pointed her toes. She had realized then, suddenly, that something was being done to her analogous, in its small way, to putting a girl through slave paces. She tried her best to be appealing. "To your belly, again," said Calliodorus.
He had hardly spoken before she was on her belly, as before. Quick was she, she would show him, to obey.
"Kneel," he said.
She returned to her kneeling position. "Of what are you worthy, female?" he inquired.
"Only to be a slave," she said.
"Speak," he said.
"I beg the inestimable honor and privilege of being made an absolute slave," she said.
"To Cosians?" he asked.
"To any man," she said.
It irritated me that she had spoken as she had to them for it was as if she were not already a slave, and an unconditional, categorical and absolute slave. She had not even addressed the men as "Master." Clearly she suspected, or hoped, and nothing had as yet occurred to gainsay this suspicion or hope, that they did not know she was already a slave, that she had only yesterday spoken self-irreversible words of self-enslavement on the upper battlements. She did not know, of course, that I was also on board.
"Unhood her," said Calliodorus.
I stepped back, so that the slave could not see me.
Then the slave was blinking and crying, and rubbing her eyes with the backs of her fists.
Then, having managed to adjust somewhat to the light, and managing to achieve some grasp of her surroundings, and seeing in the midst of what men she knelt, she looked about herself wildly, in consternation.
"Is this the behavior typical of the women of Ar's Station?" smiled Calliodorus, glancing at Aemilianus.
"Say more simply it is the behavior typical of women," smiled Aemilianus. "Commander," begged the girl.
"You are aboard the Tais, a warship of Port Cos," said Aemilianus. "You have had the honor of conversing with her captain, my former comrade in arms, and friend, Calliodorus."
"Port Cos!" she said.
"Yes," he said.
"That accounts for the accents," she said.
"Precisely," he said.
"It is true," said a man, "her face is not unattractive."
She blushed.
"I understand nothing of what is going on," she said to Aemilianus. "Ten ships of Port Cos, and fifteen others," said Aemilianus, "entered the harbor of Ar's Station yesterday afternoon, shortly before what would presumably have been the last attack of Cos on the piers. These twenty-five ships neutralized what forces of Cos could be brought to bear at that point and succeeded in evacuating the piers."
"Then we are among friends," she said.
"Most of us," said Aemilianus.
"Why am I in chains?" she asked.
"Slave chains," said Aemilianus.
"Why am I in slave chains?" she asked.
"Do you not know?" he asked.
She was silent, wondering feverishly, doubtless, how much he knew.
"My commander can see," she then said, lightly, "that the only collar I wear is a portion of my chaining, and that I am not branded."
I stood rather behind her, my arms folded. My face must have appeared somewhat severe. Certainly I was angry. Though she had not explicitly claimed to be free, it seemed clear that she was hoping to be taken as such.
"Perhaps," she said, "my chains may not be removed, and I may be given suitable raiment, that of a free woman, that I may take a place among my free sisters." She had certainly worded that carefully, I thought. She had not said "my place," which might suggest she had a right to it, but "a place," which was compatible with it merely being a place she took, with or without title, so to speak. "You are on trial," he said.
She looked at him, startled, aghast.
"Or," said he, "if you are a slave, you are being given a small hearing." "I do not understand," she said.
"Perhaps you do," he said.
"On what charges?" she asked.
"The charges, if you are a free woman," he said, "are several, such as the intent to deceive with respect to caste, the jeopardizing of fellow citizenesses by disgarding traditional concealments and modesties, to your own advantage in the event of the taking of the city, for example, going barefoot and baring your calves, and such, and a lack of patriotism, as evidenced by having refused to cut your hair, to supply needed war material to your compatriots." "But you can see, Commander," she said, suddenly lifting her hands to her head, "that my hair has been cut, and shortly, too!" She rubbed her hand over the brush of hair on her head.