"That may be it," I said to Philomela. "What?" she asked.
"That she is now too valuable," I said. She looked at me, puzzled.
"Excellent, Lady Philomela," I said. "Thank you."
"I do not understand," she said.
"You do not need to," I said. "Now, turn about, and put your head down to the grass."
She obeyed. "What are you going to do?" she asked.
The dress had come down somewhat, as she had knelt. I managed, however, to thrust it up.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Keep your head down," I said.
"What are you going to do?" she cried.
"The Ahn of your rental is nearly up," I said. "I see no point in wasting a tarsk bit."
"Oh!" she said. "Oh!"
"Excellent," I said.
"Is this how you treat a free woman?" she asked.
"You are soon to be a slave," I said.
"But I am now free!" she exclaimed.
"You may as well grow used to this sort of thing," I said.
"Oh!" she said.
"Keep your head down," I said.
"Oh," she said. "Oh!"
I would soon return Philomela to her keeper, and she would be attached to the processing chain. Too, I thought it would be well, and now better than later, for another wench, too, to be attached to the processing chain. One writes on their bodies, in grease pencil, various details, what brand is prescribed, its placement, and such. The cost is a tarsk bit.
"Keep your head down," I said.
"Oh!" she said. "Ohhhh!"
45 I am Offered Gold
"Unhood the slave," said the fellow.
I thought I might have seen him, briefly, somewhere before. It was now late in the evening of the same day on which I had returned Philomela to her keeper.
"Is it wise then to remain in this camp?" had asked Marcus, he having been apprised of the outcome of my small experiment, that in which in which Philomela, free woman of labor, had assisted.
"I think it safest, at the moment," I said. "Flight, I am certain, would invite pursuit. The roads and camps are crowded. We do not know who the enemy is." I was hoping that we would be the subject of no further inquiries, that the fellows whom I had encountered earlier would report to their superior, or superiors, that Ina was not in our keeping. I did not count, of course, on their report being unquestioned, or accepted without confirmation. I did not think it wise, under the circumstances, to leave Ina untended in the slave camp, or to dispose of her there, at least immediately. A thousand chains and cages might be examined for her presence. I was hoping that in virtue of what I had had done to her in the slave camp, she might no longer be of interest to her pursuers.
"Does Ina know that she is sought?" had asked Marcus.
"No," I had said.
"She does not know then of the reward on her, the hundred pieces of gold?"
"No," I had said.
"Unhood the slave," said the fellow.
"Why?" I asked. As nearly as I could determine, he was alone.
"You cannot escape," he said. "I can return with a hundred men."
"Be off with you," snarled Marcus.
"Let us be civil, my friend," I cautioned Marcus.
"I see you are a man of reason," said the stranger.
"Perhaps you are interested in buying her," I said.
"Perhaps," he said.
"She is comely," I said, "but for the most part untrained. She would not be likely, at this point, to draw more than a silver tarsk in the market."
"I was thinking of something more in the neighborhood one hundred pieces of gold," he said.
"Gold?" I asked.
"Tarn disks of Ar, full weight," he said.
"Of Ar?"
"Yes."
"That is a great sum," I said.
"Consider it," he said.
"Do you have it with you now?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"But perhaps you would not be interested in her now," I said.
"Let us see her," he said.
"You are certain you are not interested only in a free woman?" I asked.
"Let us see her," he said.
"Who is willing to pay so much?" I asked.
"I am," he said.
"You are an agent," I said. "Whom do you represent?"
"I can bring the money tomorrow," he said.
"I will show her to you," I said.
I rose up from behind our small fire, in our new camp. The slave was a few yards to the rear, out of our way. She was backed, kneeling, against a small sapling. Her ankles were chained back about it and her hands, too, back, above her head. Some other slaves, too, were in the vicinity, secured in one fashion or another, as it might please their masters. Some other small camps, too, were about, and fires. The light from one or two of these fires, to one extent or another, illuminated some of the slaves, including the one in which the stranger was interested. He accompanied me to her side.
"Do you want me to fetch a lamp?" I said.
"No," he said.
He crouched down beside her.
"Common Kajira brand," he said.
"Of course," I said.
There had been no difficulty in making this determination as she was naked, save for her hood. To be sure, we had prepared a garment for her, taking the formerly calflength garment and making it slave short. We had also slit the sides, to the waist.
"What do you call her?" he asked.
" 'Ina'," I said.
"Please remove the hood," he said.
I unbuckled the hood and pulled it away.
"Octantius!" she cried.
"With your permission?" he said.
"Of course," I said.
He then lashed her head back and forth, several times, striking first with the flat of his hand, then the back, alternating.
She then looked at us, wildly, first at one, and then the other, in misery, tears running from her eyes, blood about her lips.
"You do not address free men by their name," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You will address all free men as 'Master'," I said, "and all free women as 'Mistress'."
"Yes, Master!" she said.
"Thank you for administering this lesson to an errant slave," I said.
"It is nothing," he said.
"She seems to recognize you," I said.
"I am Octantius, of Ar," he said. "I was chief officer to her on her barge in the delta."
"I see," I said. That was probably where I had seen him before, probably in a mere glimpse, when I was, at that time, drawing the sodden rence craft for Plenius and the others. He had probably been on the deck of the barge.
He looked down at the slave.
"Your name is 'Ina'?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"That is what your master has named you?" he asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You are a new slave."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"You look well in a collar," he said.
"Thank you, Master," she said. The collar she wore was not one of the common, flat, gleaming, close-fitting, light-but-inflexible lock collars worn by most female slaves in the north. It was a mere band of iron which had been put about her neck and hammered shut, the two ends evened to match one another. Such collars often serve as interim collars. Sometimes, too, they are used in the houses of slavers, as house collars. Many of the females in the slave camp, for example, wore such collars. Too, of course, they are cheap.
"You should have been in one long ago," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"All women belong in collars," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"And your brand," he said, "is neatly, excellently, imprinted on you."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"There is no mistaking you now," he said.