“He was an excellent officer,” said the pit master.
“Of his caste,” said the officer of Treve.
“It is strange,” said the pit master. “Had he chosen to save his man, by firing on what we took to be the beast, he would have killed the prisoner.
“Yes,” mused the officer of Treve.
“What would you have done?” asked the pit master.
“I would have tried to save the man.”
“Even at the risk of losing the quarrel, and not having time to reload before a putative attack?”
“Yes,” said the officer of Treve.
“But he did not do so.”
“No,” said the officer of Treve.
“Why?”
“Castes differ,” said the officer. He then, with his thumb, wiped away the dagger on the lieutenant’s forehead. “He is no longer hunting,” he said.
“The prisoner did not flee,” observed the pit master. “He returned for him.”
“He, too, it seems, was a hunter.”
“Do you think it an inadvertence on the prisoner’s part that the one man’s body, that of he called Tensius, was returned as it was to the pool?”
“Certainly not,” said the officer of Treve. “He wanted the officer to know that he was still alive, that was the point of that, in order that the assassin be tensely ready, that he be extremely watchful and alert, and that the preciousness of his quarrel be fully appreciated. He might have but one chance to loose it. He must retain it for the prefect shot. He must in no event waste it.”
“But how would he know the officer would not protect his man, that he would not be fired on in the cowl and pelt of the urt?”
“He knew the caste he was dealing with,” said the officer of Treve.
“The officer assumed, naturally enough, that the man in the water was only a diversion. Accordingly, he did not even consider him, but directed his attention elsewhere.”
“And thus permitted the prisoner to approach unseen, to a point at which a miss was impossible.”
“It is hard even to understand such Kaissa,” said the pit master.
I understood very little of these things. It did seem to me that the peasant had surely manifested a subtlety, acumen, and terribleness far beyond what one might commonly expect of his caste.
“It is interesting,” said the officer of Treve, “that so many of the gates in the passages were unlocked, but the passages remained armed.”
“He would use the men of the dark caste to clear the passages before him, of course,” said the pit master.
“But the three gates here, across the way, were locked.”
“Yes, that is interesting,” agreed the pit master.
“Youare certain that there is no possibility of escape through the urt nest, through the drains, or sewers, or such.”
“I think I hear the guard in the corridor,” said the pit master. “They have found us.”
“I noted you held your torch behind the officer,” said the officer of Treve.
“Did I?” asked the pit master.
“That silhouetted his head and shoulders well, even if an approach had been made under water.”
“I suppose it might have,” said the pit master, “now that I think of it.”
“Were the chains of the prisoner tampered with?” inquired the officer of Treve.
“That seems unlikely,” said the pit master.
“There is one thing I do not understand,” said the officer of Treve.
“What is that?”
“They were prize sleen, trained to perfection. How could it be that they became confused and attacked the captain of those of the dark caste?”
“As you know,” said the pit master, “such beasts are unreliable.”
“I do not think so,” said the officer.
“Oh?”
“How could they make such a terrible mistake?”
“Perhaps they did not make a mistake,” said the pit master.
“I do not think they did,” said the officer of Treve.
“Perhaps you are right,” said the pit master.
“But the blanket was taken from the cell of the prisoner. It was kept, all the while, in a sealed sack. I saw the seal myself.”
“It was taken from the cell of the prisoner,” said the pit master. “but that does not mean that it was the blanket of the prisoner.”
“The hunters insisted on spending the first night in the depths,” said the officer of Treve, “presumably to guard against the prisoner being secretly removed.”
“I suspect that was there motivation,” said the pit master.
“Accordingly,” said the officer of Treve, “the blankets of the captain of those of the black caste and the prisoner might have been switched early the next morning, before those of the black caste arrived at the cell.”
“An interesting possibility,” said the pit master.
“And the captain of those of the dark caste then, by using his own blanket, unbeknownst to himself, set the sleen upon himself.”
“That is a possibility,” admitted the pit master.
“You are guilty of collusion in the escape of a prisoner,” said the officer of Treve.
“We need not regard him as having escaped,” pointed out the pit master. “Too, it was not I who kicked a sword to him, putting it within his grasp.”
“I am not fond of murder,” said the officer.
“I only dreamed of honor,” said the pit master. “But I think you may have looked upon her, in a cell, face to face.”
“Sir,” said one of the eleven men, the current posting of the pit guard. They were now in the passage. Gito was far down the passage, crouching down. “We searched long for you.”
The pit master put his torch in a rack, beside the portal.
“The guard reports for duty,” said the man.
“Feed the prisoners,” said the pit master. “Secure the passages, return to your normal duties.”
“Are you safe?” asked the man.
“Yes,” said the pit master.
“There is not one amongst us who will not take up arms on your behalf,” he said. He looked about himself, and toward the darkness of the pool area. He touched his blade, slung over his left shoulder.
“That will not be necessary,” said the pit master. “Our guests have gone.”
The officer of the guard turned about arid went down the corridor, past Gito. His men followed him.
“I wonder if we have done well here,” said the pit master.
“I do not know,” said the officer of Treve.
“I wonder if what we have done here truly comports with honor,” said the pit master.
“I do not know,” said the officer of Treve.
“Nor I,” said the pit master.
“She has many voices, and many songs,” said the officer of Treve.
Before we left the pool area the pit master, by means of the ropes and chains controlling the cage, brought the helpless Lady Ilene, she dangling on the rope, to the wall, where he lifted her up and put her on her knees, on the walkway. He freed her hands and feet, cutting the cords of twisted cloth, taken from her garments, which the peasant had used to bind them. When he freed her of the gag, being careful, in observance of her modesty, not to look upon her features, she pleaded desperately to speak, but this permission was denied to her. She then, kneeling before the pit master, put her head down to the bloody walkway.
“She may soon be ready for a cell,” said the officer of Treve.
“Or even shackles,” said the pit master.
“Perhaps,” said the officer.
The Lady Ilene was then reinserted into the cage, and the cage restored to its place over the pool.
I saw her kneeling in the cage, her small hands on the bars. The light cord ran from the walkway, up, through its rings, over its pulleys, to the latch at the bottom of the cage, that securing its gate.
The urts were still feeding.
The pit master lifted up the body of the lieutenant, and thrust it over the railing.
There was a splash in the dark waters below.
The pit master then cut the cords, in the center, that held the pairs of slaves together.
We then left the pool area.
The slaves preceded the pit master and the officer of Treve. We did wait for a moment, when the pit master stopped beside Gito, in the passage. “You will come with us,” he said. “When we come to the sack in the passage, where it was dropped, you will pick it up, and bring it along.”