“This way!” called a mariner inside.
“It is through this hatch that you will be loaded, my dear,” said the supply officer to the blonde, indicating the second hatch, “with the other animals.”
She crouched down, and, it seemed, frantically, desperately, was trying to force the anklet from her fair ankle.
Of the twenty slaves, or seeming slaves, ten were brunettes, and ten were blondes.
“They are a likely lot,” said a man.
“Yes,” said another.
“I wonder what they will be doing on Tangara,” said a fellow.
“We are to be distributed among taverns on Venitzia,” said one of the slaves.
“I think I shall put in for duty on Venitzia,” said a man.
“Do not,” laughed another, “it is a desolation, a wilderness.”
To such a world, thought Otto, angrily, were the Otungs banished.
“I expect to be purchased for a high house, perhaps that of the prefect,” said one of the slaves.
“And doubtless among your other duties,” said a man, “will be cleaning and the polishing of silver.”
The beauty, a brunette, tossed her head, and looked away.
“Were you given permission to speak?” asked the blond officer, one of the two who had brought the women forward.
“No, Master,” said more than one. Several put their heads down.
“Insolent slaves,” said the severe officer.
“They will learn quickly,” said a man.
“They need only be beaten, branded, and collared,” said another.
Several of the women shifted their weight, moving from one foot to another, apprehensively.
Such things could be easily done to them.
They were slaves.
Few now met the eyes of the bystanders.
The blond looked up, ceasing her efforts to free her ankle of its identificatory device, conscious of a shadow over her.
It was Julian.
“It is on you,” said Julian.
She stood, angrily.
“Stand straighter,” said Julian.
She did so, angrily.
“Do I not know you?” he asked.
“I do not think so, milord,” she said, seemingly suddenly frightened.
“I have seen you somewhere,” he said.
“I do not think so, milord,” she said.
“It would seem unlikely, milord,” said the blond officer, “as she is from Myron VII.”
That world was far from Inez IV.
Julian took the hair of the blonde and held it, tightly, and pulled her head back, studying her face.
“I am sure I have seen you somewhere,” he said.
“We must go,” said the supply officer.
“Some festival, some supper, some regatta, somewhere,” said Julian.
“She is a common type, though an exquisite specimen of the type,” said the one officer, the more severe of the two, he with the switch. “There are millions like her in the galaxy.”
The woman made a tiny, protesting noise, but she could move her head scarcely at all, as it was held.
“Perhaps she served as a slave at some such affair,” said the blond officer.
“Perhaps,” said Julian.
“Perhaps you met her when she was free,” said a man.
“Perhaps,” said Julian.
“She might then have been dressed differently,” laughed a man.
“Yes,” said Julian.
He then, slowly, by the hair, forced her down, to her knees. “Keep your hands down,” he warned her, when she seemed tempted to raise her hands to her hair.
“On all fours,” he said.
She complied.
“Do you see him?” asked Julian, indicating Otto.
She nodded.
“To his feet, and kiss them,” said Julian, releasing her hair. She hesitated for a moment.
Then she crawled to Otto, who was but a foot or two away, where she hesitated again, for a moment, and then put down her head and kissed his feet. She then lifted her head, and met his eyes. Then she looked down. He had been regarding her, impassively.
She trembled, but then controlled herself.
“You may return to your place,” said Julian.
She quickly rose up, and fled back among the other women. “On the grille, on all fours, all of you!” said the supply officer.
The beauties crowded onto the shallow ramp. “Cover them and load them,” said the supply officer.
The sheets were thrown over them, and they were hastened through the hatch. Within, mariners, with sticks, were waiting for them.
They were to be conducted thusly, covered, herded, through the passageways of the ship.
In this way they would not know their way about, or where they were on the ship.
“Surely you admit they are an exquisite lot,” said the supply officer.
“Yes,” said Julian. “Someone in authority has made a set of excellent choices.”
“We have let them believe that they are going to Venitzia as common slaves, for service in the taverns, for purchase by private houses, and such,” said the supply officer.
“Good,” said Julian.
“There did not seem much point in telling them that they are destined to be gifts for barbarians.”
“No,” smiled Julian. “They can always learn that, to their terror, later.”
The hatch slid shut.
“In their kennels,” said Julian, “I trust that they will not be overly encumbered with garments.”
“Very well, milord,” said the supply officer.
“Perhaps,” said Julian, “they might, aboard the ship, receive some training. Whereas barbarians might enjoy training them to their own harnesses, I would not want them to be slain the first night.”
“I understand, milord,” said the officer.
“You must board,” said a junior officer, urgently, to Julian.
“I am following later,” said Julian.
“I will board,” said Otto.
“Wait for me in Venitzia,” said Julian.
“No,” said Otto.
“At least,” said Julian, “you now have the gifts.”
“Yes,” said Otto.
“That should smooth your way considerably,” said Julian.
“Perhaps,” said Otto.
“Farewell,” said Julian.
“Do you think you knew the slave?” asked Otto.
“I had thought so, for a moment,” said Julian. “But it seems unlikely. I think now that I must have been mistaken.”
“Farewell,” said Otto.
The men clasped hands, briefly.
Otto then hurried up the stairway, and disappeared through the entryway.
As soon as he had entered, the entryway hatch slid shut.
A few minutes later, in a great burst of heat and flame, and smoke, an imperial freighter lifted up and, seemingly slowly at first, then much more rapidly, ascended into the sky over the quays at Point North.
The sound was heard even in Lisle, some nine miles distant, in which city was one of the imperial palaces.
To be sure, the imperial family was not then in residence.
CHAPTER 5
“Surely it is time, milord,” said the clerk, coming to stand behind the chair of Abrogastes.
“Not yet,” said Abrogastes, surveying the feasters, now become more riotous, considering, too, the former women of the empire, hurrying about, serving, the lads near them, with the switches.
“There,” said Abrogastes, to his shieldsman, “that one,” pointing to one of the former women of the empire, who was at the farther end of the hall, with a hot, stained trencher of slabs of roasted meat, a blond woman, a particularly beautiful one, and one now exquisitely curved, from the merciless regimen of diet and exercise imposed upon her by her keepers. We have met her before. She was one of three display slaves. She had been, once, a free, haughty, highly placed, rich woman of the empire.
She had been aboard the Alaria, when that vessel had been overtaken by an Ortung fleet, intent upon the rescue of Ortog, king of the Ortungs, prince of the Drisriaks. The ship had been disabled, and boarded, and, after fierce fighting, taken. She, with many others, who had been unable to escape in smaller vessels, had found themselves, to their horror, become the booty of barbarians, spared only for the whip and collar. She then, with many others, had belonged to Ortog, king of the Ortungs, prince of the Drisriaks. She and two others, also blond, had been utilized by Ortog as display slaves, a particularly lovely matched set, which, together with other objects of value, boxes of coins, chests of gems, and such, advertised the splendor of his court, the wealth of his house. They had come into the possession of Abrogastes after the defeat and scattering of the Ortungs, and his raid on Tenguthaxichai. Abrogastes had seen fit, as well, to utilize the trio as display slaves. To be sure, they had many other uses, as well.