I thought now that the search might be abating near the river, that it might, by now, have been redirected to the camp as a whole. This seemed, then, a good time to return to the vicinity of the river. I did, before I left the tent, hang the slave beads I had shown the fellow outside over the nail in the tent pole to which Borton had attached his warning sign. I thought I might as well give him something for his trouble. I looked at the beads. They were pretty, that double strand of insignificant baubles, those lovely spheres of colored wood strung on binding fiber, enough to bind a slave hand and foot. Then I left the tent.
"I do not desire to wait longer," I told the fellow outside.
He nodded, not paying much attention.
"There is something going on to the north, there," said a man to me, as I passed a guardpost.
"Where?" I asked.
"There," he said.
I could see the light of torches, could hear, distantly, shouts of men.
"I think you are right," I said.
"What is it?" he asked a fellow approaching.
"They are looking for a spy," he said.
"Do they know what he looks like?" I asked.
"They say he is a big fellow, with red hair," said the man.
"I have red hair," I said.
"If I were you, then," said the man next to me, "I think I would remain inconspicuous for a time."
"That is probably a good idea," I said.
"It would be too bad to be mistaken for the spy," said a fellow, "and be riddled with bolts or chopped to pieces."
"I agree," I said.
"Be careful," said the first fellow, solicitously.
"I shall," I assured him.
"They will have him before morning," said the other fellow.
"Yes," said the first. "The camp will be turned upside down. There will be no place to hide. They will look everywhere."
"Everywhere?" I asked.
"Everywhere," he assured me.
"They will have him before morning," repeated the second man.
"I wish you well," I said, bidding them farewell.
"I wish you well," said the first man.
"I wish you well," said the second.
When men search they normally do so, naturally enough, I suppose, as if their quarry were going to remain stationary, obstinately ensconced in a given situation. It is then necessary only to examine the available situations thoroughly, and your job is finished. On the other hand, whereas it is clearly understood by most searchers that the quarry may be in B while they are in A, it seldom seems to occur to them that the quarry may now be in A while they are in B. In this fashion it is possible to both "search everywhere" and find nothing. In this sense, locating men, or larls, or sleen, which tend to double back, often to attack their pursuers, is not like locating buttons. To be sure, many of the men in this camp, both regulars and mercenaries, were skilled warriors, perhaps even trained to hunt men. The tracking of routed enemies, now fugitives, after a battle, for example, is an art in itself. The hunting of slaves is another. Such men may think with the quarry; they may bring up the rear; they may depart from the main search parties; they may conduct random searches, impossible to anticipate, and so on. Many are those taken by such men, including female slaves, to be brought helplessly in chains to their masters. There is one place, however, that even such skilled fellows are not likely to look, and that is with the search parties themselves. Whereas it is not easy to blend in with such a party if one is a female slave, given her sex, her nudity or paucity of garmenture, perhaps even slave garb, her collar, and such, a man has less difficulty. It can be risky, of course. My hope, then, was to wait until searches were taking place outside the camp, particularly toward the south, as they might in the morning. Marcus, with whom I had come to the camp, an orderly fellow, had made very specific contingency plans, and had insisted emphatically they be complied with, in case either of us were apprehended or detained, plans which he might be putting into effect like lightning at this very moment. If possible, we were to meet on the road to Holmesk, to the south, in the vicinity of the village of Teslit. If this meeting proved impractical, the fellow near Teslit, whoever it might be, was to hurry south to Holmesk, there to contact the men of Ar. He was a very serious young man, and was very serious about these plans. For my part, of course, if he were apprehended, or such, I would probably have dallied about at least long enough to determine whether I might be of any assistance or not. If one has been impaled, of course, the amount of assistance one can render is negligible. He himself, however, had insisted that he must be discounted, sacrificed without a murmur, and that I must continue on to contact the men of Ar in the south. I did not discuss these matters with him as it is very difficult to talk with people who are reasonable. To be sure, we had expected, in a day or so, to depart southward anyway, having been with the forces of Cos long enough to anticipate their route and marches, this information to be conveyed, supposedly, to the forces of Ar at Holmesk. I myself found it difficult to believe that the forces of Ar at Holmesk did not know, and with some degree of accuracy, the nature, the movements, the marching orders, and such, of the Cosian forces in the north.
I must now, however, find a place to dally until morning, until the searching was done in the camp.
'They will have him before morning," had said a fellow. I trusted he was mistaken.
I thought I knew a possible place.
2 A Copper Tarsk
She made the tiniest of stifled noises, her head pulled back, my hand held tightly, mercilessly, over her mouth.
She was kneeling. I was crouching behind her.
"Make no noise," I whispered to her.
I felt her face and head move the tiniest bit, as it could, indicating obedience.
I then removed my hand from her mouth and, from behind, my hand on her arm, drew her to her feet, and conducted her to the nearest of the small alcove tents in the paga enclosure. I had entered the enclosure from the Vosk side, under the railing. In a moment I had thrust her into the small tent. You cannot stand up within it.
I lit the tiny lamp in the tent. I lowered the flame so it was little more than a flicker.
"You!" she said, twisting about in the tiny space, on the silken carpet.
"Do not make noise," I warned her, softly.
She was pretty there, now naked, save for her collar, inside the canvas.
"Your silk is gone," I said.
"They removed it before they lashed me," she said.
"Turn about, kneeling," I said.
She did so.
It is common that clothing is removed before the administration of the discipline of leather. In this way the clothing is not likely to be cut or stained. Too, in a formal whipping, as opposed to an occasional stroke or two, perhaps called forth on a given occasion, not even as meaningless, fragile or symbolic a shield as slave silk is allowed to obtrude itself between the slave and the justice, or mere attention, of the lash. Similarly, in such a formal situation, even the hair of the slave is normally thrown forward, before her shoulders.
"Seven strokes," I said. "Yes," she whispered. "Count them," I said.
Tears sprang to her eyes, in memory of the lashing.
"One," she said, "for parting my silk unbidden; two, for putting myself to the dirt before a customer, unbidden; three, for speaking without asking permission; four, for not speaking clearly; five, for not answering directly; six, because I am a slave; seven, because it pleased the master to strike me again."
"In many cases," I said, "with a private master, I do not think you would have been beaten at all this evening. For example, a private master, though he might be particular about such things, is less likely than a public master, in public, to administer discipline for, say, speaking without permission. To be sure, if your speech is thought insufficiently respectful, or too bold or forward, or you have been recently warned not to speak, or it is obviously not a time in which he wishes to hear you speak, or such, you might be beaten. Similarly, a private master would not be likely to beat you for parting your silk before him or for putting yourself to his feet and writhing there piteously, in begging need, and such. Indeed, he would be more likely to be pleased. Indeed, with private masters many girls actually escape beatings by recourse to just such delightful strategies. Similarly, unclear or evasive discourse is not likely to win you a beating unless it is clear the master objects to it, and, in effect, will not accept it. Then, of course, you must speak with what clarity and directness you can. Your problem this evening, of course, is that you are a paga slave and that your master, Philebus, is before customers. You must do nothing to suggest to the customers that you are not helplessly subject, and absolutely, and perfectly, and completely, to Philebus. And you are, you know."