“That one, milord?” asked the shieldsman, pointing.
“Yes,” said Abrogastes.
The woman had avoided the height of the hall, opposite the great two-leaved portal of its main threshold, avoided the dais, where might be found the bench, with its high-seat pillars, of Abrogastes. Indeed, few of the lovely, belled servitors would have dared to approach that end of the hall, where were the tables of the higher nobles, were it not for the merry, hastening switches of the lads who supervised them. In a sense this was unusual, for often such women, women in such a condition in such a hall, might vie to serve the higher tables, eager to patter to the boards above the salt, hoping to draw themselves to the attention of the feasters there, hoping to be noticed, and called later, when the nobles and higher men might turn restlessly in the furs. Surely better to be chained at the foot of a noble, in some hall or three-aisled house, risking all, desperately, to please him, than to twist and turn, as one could, in the tiny confines of a kennel, to share a stall, ankle-chained, in a dairy barn, or to lie, collared, with pigs, in the mud of a sty. But tonight few of the women, unbidden by their jovial overseers, dared to approach the high tables, those at the end of the hall, and even fewer the bench of Abrogastes himself. At the right of Abrogastes, free, there crouched a great hound, alert and crested. Such hounds often help to keep excellent order among domestic animals, sheep and such.
The shieldsman caught the eye of one of the colorfully garbed lads, with the colorful cloak, and pointed to the woman in question.
The lad did not bother speaking to her but struck her suddenly, unexpectedly, with the switch, turning her toward the far end of the hall.
She nearly tipped the trencher, but no meat fell from it to the dirt, rush-strewn floor.
It would not be necessary, then, that she be beaten for such a clumsiness.
She quailed.
The shieldsman gestured that it was indeed she who was wanted, and should approach.
The switch struck her high, well above the back of the knees, hurrying her forward, with a jangle of bells, toward the bench of Abrogastes.
As she approached, and then, timidly, slowed her pace, the hound at the side of Abrogastes growled, and rose up, on its two front legs. Its hump, a knot of muscle at the back of its neck, tightened, its eyes blazed, the crest began to lift, its ears flattened themselves, back, at the sides of the head.
“Steady, lad,” said Abrogastes, soothingly.
The woman had stopped, some feet from Abrogastes, in terror, given the obvious menace of the animal.
Then she cried out in pain, as the lad behind her gave her an excellent stripe, across the back of the legs.
Tears in her eyes, terrified, she came forward, and knelt before Abrogastes, on the dais, for there was no table directly before his bench, and, putting down her head, lifted the tray up, and forward, to him.
He regarded her.
In such a position a woman is quite beautiful.
She was nude, of course, as were, as well, the other former ladies of the empire serving at the feast.
Perhaps I have been remiss in not calling this sort of thing explicitly to the attention of the reader, but then it was doubtless not necessary to do so.
How else would one expect former ladies of the empire to serve at such a feast?
The Alemanni are men.
To be sure, she, and the others, did wear metal anklets, to which bells were affixed, which would sound with the tiniest movement, and a steel collar.
Underneath her blond hair Abrogastes could see the glint of her collar.
On her left thigh, high, just under the hip, there was a brand.
It was not the sign of the Drisriaks but a common brand, recognized in merchant law throughout galaxies. It would make it possible to put her on a slave block almost anywhere, with no questions asked.
“Would you like to feed my little pet?” asked Abrogastes, indicating the restless, crested beast that crouched to his right.
She shook her head, fearfully.
The beast looked at her, and growled.
“For what do you exist?” asked Abrogastes.
“To serve my masters with instant, unquestioning obedience and total perfection,” she said.
“Do you know what would happen if you were to try to feed him?” asked Abrogastes.
“No, Master,” she said.
“He would tear your arm off, at the shoulder,” said Abrogastes.
“Yes, Master!” she said.
Such beasts are trained to accept food only from their master, and certain keepers, with whom they are familiar. They attack others who might try to feed them. This makes sense, as food from others might be drugged or poisoned. If the beasts do not receive food within a day or two from their master, or familiar keepers, they hunt for themselves. At such times they can be extremely dangerous.
Abrogastes then, with one hand, his right, took three slabs of hot, greasy, roasted meat from the trencher.
“Go,” said Abrogastes.
“Yes, Master!” said the slave and rose to her feet and backed away, quickly.
There was laughter.
A few feet away she turned to regard Abrogastes. She was trembling. She was perhaps even more terrified of Abrogastes than the shaggy brute that crouched to his right, but, too, now, every inch of her was alive. She shifted and her bells, telling their tales, jangled. Men laughed. Her belly, as she looked at him, was afire. He was her master. She belonged to him. She must obey him, instantly, unquestioningly and to the best of her ability, in any, and all, things. She moaned with desire. She could scarcely stand. The bells jangled, as she fought for balance.
She felt weak. She feared she might faint. Never had she known a man such as Abrogastes, and these others, and they were her masters!
“Back to your serving!” said a lad, giving her a quick, stinging lash beneath the small of the back with his switch. Tears bursting from her eyes, cruelly stung, embarrassed, she turned about, and hurried to the food table, to replenish the trencher. They must call for her tonight, someone must! Did they not know she was a slave, and needful! Someone be kind, she thought, wildly. Someone be kind to a poor slave! Be kind, someone, to a poor slave!
Abrogastes took one of the three slabs of meat and held it down, to the hound at his right.
The gigantic head lifted itself delicately, and, carefully, took the piece of meat, and then put it under one paw, holding it to the dais, and tore at it with its teeth.
Abrogastes felt a cheek press itself against his boot, on his left.
“Master,” said a small voice, timidly.
There was a small sound of chain, of heavy chain, on wood.
Abrogastes looked down, to his left.
“Greetings, little Huta,” he said.
Lying there, to his left, was a small, nude, dark-haired woman, with dark eyes, and high cheekbones. She was on a heavy chain, fastened to a ring on the dais. The chain was quite heavy. It might have easily held even a hoofed sorit. And, too, the collar she wore, to which the chain was attached, by a large padlock, was unusually heavy, and large, for a woman. Her lines had been much improved, by the regimen to which she had been subjected by her keepers, since her embondment on Tenguthaxichai.