“Master!” wept Cornhair, in protest, and Tenrik seized her by the hair, turned her head toward him, and cuffed her twice. Tenrik was not ill disposed toward her. Indeed, he had just made a considerable profit on her. But she should have known better.
The subordinate placed a single copper darin in Tenrik’s palm. He then drew a small, folded sheet of paper from his purse, unfolded it, and gave it to the merchant. “Deliver her to this address,” he said.
“Ah!” said the merchant, his eyes widening, regarding the opened bit of paper.
Cornhair dared not speak.
The subordinate then withdrew from the shelf, and rejoined the officer and the others.
Cornhair saw that the officer then handed something to the Lady Gia Alexia, on which her small fist closed instantly, greedily.
The small group then turned about, and, remarshaling themselves, withdrew, returning in the direction from which they had come.
“Make way!” called the two soldiers, now, again, in the lead, brandishing their pressing, crowd-cleaving staffs. “Make way!”
The Lady Gia Alexia thrust her way through the crowd, to the foot of the shelf, and, looking about herself, and holding the object so that few were likely to see it, she opened her palm to Cornhair, who saw within it a golden darin. “Farewell, slave,” she said, laughed, and then turned away, and hurried through the crowd. She had been successful, it seems, in finding a suitable buyer for Cornhair. A golden darin, of course, would purchase several slaves of the normal market value of Cornhair.
“May I speak, Master?” begged Cornhair.
“Certainly,” said Tenrik.
“Those men who bought me,” said Cornhair. “I do not recognize the uniforms, the emblems, and badges.”
“There is no reason you should,” said Tenrik. “The forces in which they serve are private forces. They have no official position within the empire. Their army is a private army, to be sure, one of the largest and most dangerous in the empire. It is the first time I have dealt with them.”
As indicated earlier, certain men, and families, have retainers, armed or otherwise. Just as a man might have a bodyguard, he might have ten bodyguards, or a hundred, and so on. A band may become a company, and a company a small army, and a small army a larger army. It was not unusual in the empire, particularly on more remote worlds where the authority and power of the empire was limited, or absent, for powerful men to form such groups. In our accounts we have already met one such, that of the wealthy merchant, Pulendius, of Terennia. Captain Ottonius, long ago known as the peasant, Dog, had trained in his gladiatorial school. And, needless to say, such armies, being the instruments of their commanders, and occasionally the tools of ambition and greed, do not always restrict their activities to enforcing the law and keeping the peace. Similarly, it is not always wise, or safe, to inquire into the antecedents of dynasties. Brigands and bandits not unoften lie at the roots of kingdoms.
“Ho!” called Tenrik to his man, the slaver’s man. “Behold!”
The slaver’s man joined Tenrik on the shelf and looked at the paper in Tenrik’s hand, that given to Tenrik by the subordinate, that on which was inscribed the address to which Cornhair was to be delivered.
“By the sky,” said the slaver’s man, “I know the place, the great villa northeast of the city, overlooking the river, with the walls, the barracks, with the guards, the unleashed, prowling vi-cats.”
“I have never been there,” said Tenrik.
“Nor I,” said the slaver’s man. “It is not to be approached.”
“They will be expecting the slave,” said Tenrik.
“Master,” said Cornhair. “May I know who bought me, may I know who owns me?”
“It is on the paper,” said Tenrik.
“Master!” begged Cornhair.
“Take her from the shelf,” said Tenrik, to his man. “Wash her, and feed and water her. And then kennel her, stoutly. In the morning, we will put her in the wagon and deliver her.”
“Very good,” said the slaver’s man.
“And have her chained,” said Tenrik, “heavy chains.”
“But she is a woman,” said the man.
“Nonetheless,” said Tenrik, “put heavy chains on her.”
The padlock was removed from the two links of the common chain it bound, that looped about Cornhair’s neck, which chain, then freed, was opened and lifted away, over her head, which freed her from the common chain. She was not freed from the manacles which fastened her hands behind her. One key, incidentally, as is often the case, was matched to all the shelf padlocks and all the manacles used to hold the shelf stock. This constitutes a considerable convenience for the merchants and their staffs.
As she was in the presence of free men Cornhair immediately knelt.
“Master,” she said to Tenrik.
“Slave?” he responded.
“May I inquire,” she said, “to whom I belong, who owns me?”
“Keep her on her knees, your hand in her hair,” said Tenrik to his man.
Cornhair was then on her knees, her hands manacled behind her, the slaver’s man’s hand fastened in her hair, looking up at Tenrik.
“Master?” she begged.
Tenrik glanced, again, at the paper. “Rurik,” he said, “Rurik, Tenth Consul of Larial VII, Rurik, of the Larial Farnichi.”
47
“This,” said Julian, “is our colleague, Tuvo Ausonius, of Miton, once an executive in the finance division of the first provincial quadrant. He came with us from Tangara to Telnaria.”
“The noble Ausonius is not unknown to me,” said Iaachus. “We have had dealings.”
“More than one of your dealings has not turned out well,” said Julian.
“One tries to do what is in the best interests of the empire,” said Iaachus.
“As you see it,” said Julian.
“Of course,” said Iaachus.
The force of the explosive device had been evaded; the attack of the ship had been thwarted; the raid of the bearers of the imperial commission had been countered. These events had occurred at Julian’s villa on Vellmer, when Otto had been in residence, awaiting the documentation pertinent to his commission in the auxiliaries.
“How nice to see you again,” said Iaachus to Tuvo Ausonius.
“And you,” said Ausonius, bowing.
“On Vellmer,” said Julian, “Ausonius learned manhood and honor.”
“Such things,” said Iaachus, “may complicate, even impede, statecraft.”
“Tuvo Ausonius is our eyes and ears on the street,” said Julian. “I am known, Captain Ottonius is conspicuous.”
“I have my sources of information, as well,” said Iaachus.
“A hundred spies,” said Julian.
“In Telnar alone,” said Iaachus. “The empire is large and information is precious. Without it one gambles.”
“And with it, as well,” said Julian.
“True,” said Iaachus.
“And you will gamble on us?” said Julian.
“I have little choice,” said Iaachus.
“You need us,” said Julian.
“I, and the empire,” said Iaachus. “Unfortunately one must sometimes trust those whom one does not trust.”
“We, as well,” said Julian.
“There are demands in the street, for the public appearance of the princesses,” said Iaachus.
“Few know the princesses by sight,” said Otto. “Substitute actresses, or slaves in gaudy finery.”
“But some know,” said Iaachus, “and large, vulnerable secrets are the least well kept.”
“Too,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “word is spread about, that the princesses vacation abroad, venturing to scenic places, lightheartedly touring on a dozen worlds.”
“In this, see the hand of Sidonicus,” said Iaachus.
“Obviously you know more than we,” said Julian.
“In his way,” said Iaachus, “Sidonicus poses a greater threat to the empire than Abrogastes.”
“How so?” said Julian.
“He wants the empire, the galaxy, the galaxies, either from the throne or from its enemies. He preaches the superiority of the koos to the state. The koos is to rule, which, of course, he speaks for, and the state is to obey. He wants to crown emperors, and have it that no one can be emperor who is not crowned by him.”