I heard a woman scream and saw her, thrown over the shoulder of a laughing pirate, a brawny fellowk being carried to one of the galleys. "What will be done with her?" whispered a woman, near me, terrified. "If she is beautiful," said a man near us, "perhaps she will be kept to serve in the stronghold of Policrates. If she is not, perhaps her throat will be cut."The woman gasped, her hand at her veil.
The pirate threw the woman to his feet near the neareset galley and there stripped her and handed her to a comrade who stood on board the galley. He put her on the outside of the railing, facing outward, with thesmall of her back tightly against it, her arms hooked over it and behind it, as with the others. He then, with a length of binding fiber, running tight across her body, fastened her wrists together, as he had similarly those of the others. All were well displayed. too the exposition of captures in this way tends to discourage retaliatory missle fire from the scene of the pillaging.
The woman was comely, I did not think she would hae her throat cut. Lusty men have better uses to which to put such women. I did think, however, that they would soon, all the captures, be marked and put in collars.
"If I were you," said the man near the women in the crowd, "I would draw back in the crowd and hide. Then I would flee." "But I am free," she said. "So, too were they," said the man gesturing to the bound woman at the railing of the pirate galley.She shrank back suddenly frightened.
I saw Kilomense, some seventy yards away, directing his men and the enforced laborers, citizens of Victoria, loading the galleys.
"You there, female," called a pirate, his eyes roaming the crowd, "step forth!" The men holding the ship's pole, frightened, lowered it. "Step forth!" said the pirate.
The woman shook her headl prssing back against the men. "Unhood her, face-strip her!" ordered the pirate. "Protect me, save me, please," she begged.
Her hood was thrust back. Her veil was torn away. She was lovely. The price she would bring would be good. I wondered why such a woman would come to the wharves in a time of such danger. Surely she must have understood tha peril to which she would be exposing herself.
"Step forth Beauty," said the priate. Numbly she approached him. I made to move but two men restrained me. Swiftly before us all, in the light of the flames, was the woman stripped by the pirates blade. "Lie down," he said he.She hesitated and looked at him in anguish."Or do you wish to be slit like a larma?" he asked. His sword jabbed into the sweet roundness of her belly.Swiftly she knelt at his feet, her back on the harsh tarred boards.
The pirate looked at us and laughed. "here at my feet, supine, stripped is a free woman of Victoria. Do any of you dispute her with me?" Two men restrained me. No others moved.
"Kneel," he ordered the woman. She did so. "He then pressed the point of his blade against her fair thraot. Numbly, slowly lifting her arms, the blade between her arms, her fingers trembling, she tied the bondage knot in her own hair. She looked at him. "Please spare me Master," she said.
For a long moment or two the point of the blade remained at her throat, as the pirate considered the girl's plea. I saw his eyes roam her now-imbonded curves.He laughed.He thrust his blade back in its sheath. She almost fained with relief.
"On your feet!" he said. "Run to the nearest galley! Beg to be displayed there, as the loot you are!"
"Yes Master!" she cried and leaping up, fled toward the galley, a commanded slave.
"We do what we wish with Victoria," said the pirate, "do any of your gainsay me?" None spoke.He then laughed again, and turning about, went back toward the galleys.
I watched the new slave being bound at the railing with the others.
"I say she wanted the collar," said a man. "They they all do," said another.They did not know, of course, a woman such as Miss Beverly Henderson. She could not be a slave. But what, I asked myself, if she were, in her secret heart as Alison in Ar and Peggy in Victoria, both themselves surely slaves, had claimed a true slave? If she were she had made a great fool of me, in pretending to be free, in being often displesasing, in daring to sell Lota, in attempting to betray me to the guardsmen of Port Cos, in disparaging me in the tavern of Hibron. What if she were a slave? Could she be truly a slave? The very thought almost made me wish to cry out with fury and pleasure. If she were a slave, I would find this out. And then, somehow, against all obstacles, I would make her mine, mine own. I would own her, nor would I be gentle with the slave. She owed me much. Yes, I vowed, if she were a slave, I would have her in my collar! And she would soo then well know herself a slave. I would treat her, the desirable little slut, and slave, with a ruthlessness and a power that would become legendary in Victoria!
I could then could no longer deny it. I wanted Miss Beverly Henderson as my slave girl.
"We will pay the tribute in the morning," said another man. "We have no choice," said another. "We should never have entered into difficulties over the matter," said another. "True," said another man.
The smoke stung my eyes. The man had by now stopped ringing the alarm bell. The crowd was mostly silent. One could hear the flames."We have been taught our lesson," said one of the men.
"Policrates owns Victoria," said another. "It is true," said another.
I turned about and left the crowd. I made my way slowly away from the wharves. I began to walk slowly back toward the tavern of Tasdron.Many were the thoughts in myhead.
I had seen a free woman of Victoria stripped with no more mercy than would have been shown a slave. I had seen her kneel naked before a pirate and his blade at her throat with her own hands, tie the knot of bondage in her hair, in full view of her fellow citizens.I had seen the disorganization, the fear, the demoralization of the men of Victoris. I had seen the insolence of the pirates, the burning of buildigs. And the men of Victoria, though greatly outnumbeirng the pirates, had not fought. The tribute would be paid.And too, I had learned and I mused on this, that I wanted to own Miss Beverly Henderson, yes literally own her, as a man on Earth might own, say a tarsk or a pet sleen or, lower than either, as he might own a slave.
"Do not!" I cried. I seized the figure, his body poised, hunched over the sword, its point to his belly, its hilt in his hands, barced against the stones of the dark street. "No!" I cried. I struggled briefly with him. Then with the bottom of my foot I kicked the sword to one side and it slid upward, tearing through the tunic. He dropped to his hands and knees, vomiting and scaambled for the sword, seizing it. He cried out in fury and frustration, the blade now in his hands. He rose to to his feet, reeling. "Who are you to interfere in the matter?" he howled. He lifted the blade and apporached me. I saw it waver. He steaded it, placing one hand upon the other on the hilt. It again lifted. I stood my ground. I did not think he would strike me. Then the blade lowered and the man sobbed, and backed against the wall and lowered himself sitting to its base the sword on the stones beside him. He bent over, his head in his hands."Who are you to interfere?" he wept.
"Surely there are others betten than yourself against whom you might turn your sword," I said angrily.
"Give me a drink," he said. "How has it come to this," I asked him, "the glory, the codes, the steel?" I want a drink," he said sullenly.
"I have just returned from the wharves," I told him. "Surely you and the others from the tavern of Tasdron did not fail to hear the alarm?"
"There is no business of mine at the wharves." he said. "Yet," said I, "you had left the taavern. Will you tell me you were not bound for the wharves?" I can do nothing," he said. "I could do nothing."Yet sick, your senses swirling you left the tavern," I said. "This street leads to the sharves."