Our menacing companions, armed and surly, like shadows, were still with us. There were now some fifteen of them. No more seemed to be adding to the number at present. Octantius, as I recalled, had said he would return with a hundred men. Apparently he had left several on duty during the night, or at least posted in the vicinity.
I released Ina, and she, terrified, sobbing, probably in pain, knelt beside me. I looked down, briefly, and she lifted her eyes to mine. They were terrified. The collar, simple as it was, little more than a strap of iron, was pretty on her. She should have been in one long ago.
"It is to you I belong?" she asked, terrified.
"Yes," I said. "Stay close."
"Come to us, little vulo," called one of the fellows.
"You will be safe with us," said another.
"We will rescue you," called another, softly.
"Keep with me," I said.
"It is he whom we want," said one of them, "not you."
"Get out of the way," said another. "Run, leave, you may be hurt."
"Run, little vulo," called another. "Stray, if you wish. It does not matter. You will soon be picked up by another master."
"Run," said another. "There is nothing to fear. You will not be long off a chain."
"Stay close," I said.
"I am afraid!" she wept.
"Stay close," I said.
"I do not know what to do!" she wept.
"Stay close to me," I said.
"I am only a slave!" she wept.
"Stay close," I said.
Suddenly, with a wild sob, she leaped to her feet and ran toward the men, but she had scarcely gone a step or two when she stopped, in terror. The nearest fellow had hurried forward, his sword raised. She screamed and fell to her knees, covering her head. There was a flash of sparks as I blocked his blow. Then, she on her belly between us, weeping, we fought over her. No more than two or three times the blades clashed and then he staggered back, a tiny bit of blood, little more than a line, on his tunic, over the heart.
"Get the girl!" cried a fellow.
She had apparently crawled out from between us, risen to her feet and fled back. I caught one fellow in the gut with the blade as he made to rush past me, after her. Another went past and I cut him down, at the neck, from behind. I looked about. I was alone. One of the gates leading down the steps to the stock pit had been opened and she had apparently fled through it, to cross the pit and ascend the steps on the other side, to flee back further in the camp. Most of the men had followed her through the gate, some had circled about the fence.
"Where is she?" I heard someone call. I heard a woman scream.
"That is not she!" said a man.
"Search the area!" cried a man.
"Search the camp!" cried another.
I circled the sunken sales area. I saw men rushing about among the cages and poles. Some of the girls naked in the tiny cages, in chains, shrank back, as far as they could, behind the bars. One of the women chained kneeling to a slave pole by the wrists clutched it as men rushed past. Another, backed against a slave pole, her hands chained together behind it, over her head, sucked in her belly and pressed, terrified, back against it.
I caught one of the fellows who had followed us against some empty, tiered kennels.
"No!" he cried.
I left him there.
I suddenly came on a fellow. He regarded me wildly. No! He was not one of those who had followed us! I had nearly cut him down.
I looked about.
The camp was large, but I did not think she would find it too easy to hide in it. Most cages and boxes would be locked, of course. Too, she was not on a chain. It would presumably be only a matter of time until she, a lovely barefoot slave loose in the camp, would attract attention. Then she would presumably be summoned to a chain or would be braceleted and held. Even if she found an excellent temporary hiding place, presumably it would not serve to conceal her indefinitely. If necessary, every square hort of the camp could be examined. Also, I did not think she could get out of the camp. It was surrounded with slave wire. She could be cut to pieces on it. Too, there were guards, and sleen.
I decided to continue looking for her.
A girl cried out, almost under my feet, twisting about in her chains. I had nearly stepped on her. She was fastened between two stakes.
I passed between tiers of cages, several of which had women in them, huddled back, chained, behind the bars.
I looked behind some of these tiers. I saw nothing, only refuse, and an urt hurrying away.
"Why is your blade drawn, fellow?" asked a man, a slaver's man.
I did not respond to him, but passed him.
I wondered if Ina had been taken by now. If so, I did not think I could help her. She had not had much of a start.
In one aisle in the camp I encountered two female slaves, naked, chained to yokes, their ankles shackled as well. From each termination of both yokes there was suspended a large wooden bucket of wastes. They were doubtless on their way to some part of the camp, probably a fosse or pit, set aside for the deposit of such materials. I think they were only too happy to kneel in my presence, this permitting them to rest the buckets on the dirt floor of the aisle, between cages. Both were quite pretty. I wondered if their present duty had been assigned to them as a discipline or punishment.
"Have you see a fair-haired slave in a brown tunic about, loose?" I asked.
"No, Master," they said, bent deeply over, looking up at me, fearfully, from the yokes.
I then left them behind, on their knees. They were, I suspected, new slaves. Perhaps in the recent past their demeanor had suggested to someone that they might have been tempted to have less than a total commitment to perfect pleasingness and instant obedience. Now, however, they had learned to kneel before men and look up at them with fear.
I was then among some wagons. I looked into the backs of several slave wagons, most of which were empty. In some of them there were slaves, who, startled, turned about, with a clink of chains, their ankles fastened about the central bar, near the floor of the wagon bed, parallel with its long axis. In one there was a hooded, back-braceleted woman sitting on the floor of the wagon bed, her back against one side. Her knees were pulled up, and must remain so, at her keeper's pleasure. She could not extend her legs because of a belly rope, a length of which passed behind her and then forward, being tied about her ankles. She was also chained by the neck to one side of the wagon and a shackle was about her left ankle, below the ropes, attaching her to the central bar. Beyond this there were several coarse ropes wound tightly about her body. Her nudity was almost concealed by them. Perhaps she was a free woman of Brundisium who had been arrogant and was now to be smuggled out of the area, to begin her life anew and on a more fitting basis, in a collar, at the feet of a master. There was no custodial need, of course, for the weight and plentitude of the restraints on her. She was merely being accustomed, I assumed, to the feel of bonds on her body. She would doubtless soon learn to beg to be pleasing, that their number might be lessened. She turned her hooded visage toward me, twisting in the restraints. She made tiny noises. Within the hood she was gagged. I then pulled down the canvas. She had a very pretty figure but it was not that of Ina. There was no blanket on the floor of the wagon.