“Extinguish the lamps, my lovely sisters in bondage,” said Aynur, pleasantly.
One by one the lamps were extinguished.
Aynur seemed in a good mood this evening. I am sure that that anomaly was muchly appreciated by all of us. On of the whole, Aynur was quite strict with us. We must, for example, for the inspection of the house master, kneel with our knees in line, and spread to the appropriate angle. Our backs must be straight. Our chins must be elevated to the proper height, our hands must be placed exactly so on our thighs, and so on. She was quick with her switch. She kept us under excellent discipline.
I lay there on the mat for a little while in the darkness.
The room was very quiet.
I was exhausted, and my back still hurt, despite the soothing lotion.
I decided that there was no reason to be afraid, really.
After all, the man had gone away, and I was safe in the house.
Too, more importantly, I had denied knowing a “Janice.” I had denied ever having been in Treve.
That should finish the matter.
I fell asleep. I am sure it was well before the mat check.
42
“Shhh,” I heard. “Do not make any noise.”
I awakened on the mat. It must have been well after the mat check.
It was Aynur’s voice.
It was dark in the room. I could hear the breathing of several of the other flowers, asleep nearby on their mats.
“Mistress?” I asked.
I was still on my belly, from the switching I had received the preceding evening.
“Place your wrists, crossed, behind your back,” said Aynur. I complied and, in an instant, with a double loop, they were corded together.
“Do not many any noise,” said Aynur.
“What is it?” I whispered, frightened.
“You are to be taken to see the master,” she whispered. I was startled to hear this. Was this how he had his girls brought to him, in the darkness of the night, secretly? Or, did this have to do with other business, clandestine business perhaps, nocturnal interrogations? Perhaps he was curious to know what had transpired in the garden. Indeed, perhaps the stranger was with him and I must now be brought before them.
“Should I not be silked?” I asked.
“You will go as you are,” she said.
Aynur then reached before me and thrust a wad of cloth into my mouth. This she bound in place with a folded scarf, knotted behind the back of my neck. The original wad of cloth, now held in, as I struggled with it, moving it about in my mouth, expanded to fill my oral cavity. “Be very quiet,” said Aynur. “Do not make any noise.” It was an effective gag. Even had I dared, I could have done little to make myself heard. “Get up,” said Aynur. I rose to my feet. I felt her had on my back. “Move,” she said, “barbarian.” I was pressed toward the door. The door was now unlocked. I receded her, directed by her, down the main corridor, and then into a side passage, past several doors, and then into a small room. It was dark. Aynur closed the door behind us. Surely this was not the compartments of the master!
“Sit,” said Aynur.
I sat down.
“Cross your ankles,” said Aynur.
I did so and Aynur, in the darkness, bound them together.
A moment or so later a fire-maker was struck in the room and a man, masked, lit a tiny lamp on a table. There was another man in the room, as well, also masked.
Near the table, on the floor, there was a slave box.
“This is the slave,” said Aynur. “I deliver her to you, Masters.”
I struggled suddenly with the bonds, but could not free myself.
The men regarded me, bemused.
I tried to speak but was prevented by the gag. I could utter only small sounds, pleading sounds, questioning sounds, sounds of misery and fear.
“You have done well, slave,” said one of the men.
“Thank you, Master,” she said.
Then Aynur turned to me. “Do not fear, barbarian slut,” said she, “but after today, sooner or later, I would have found a way to get you out of the garden! Do not think to lie again, filthy little slave, in the arms of my Camillus!”
I supposed that guards might be sometimes suborned, with the promise of the gift of dangerous, delicious, clandestine favors, and such, to cooperate in such matters. Intrigues in the gardens, in the slave quarters, can be quite fearful.
“See her struggle,” said Aynur to the guards. Then she again addressed herself to me. “One of the guards, one who leaves the city tonight,” she said, “will be thought to have stolen you from the slave quarters, doubtless for your golden collar.”
I looked at her, angrily, over the gag. Did she truly think I might be stolen for my golden collar?
“I myself will return to the quarters, locking the door behind me. How surprised, how horrified, will we all be in the morning!”
Again I struggled, but Aynur had tied me quite well.
“But I have been saved the trouble of arranging these matters,” she said, “for others, it seems, are interested in you. Tonight’s events have been planned, it seems, for some time, but only this evening was I contacted by a guard, he who leaves the city this night. You can imagine with what joy I attended his proposals.”
I looked to the men. It was hard to read their eyes. I did not think they were guards in the house.
One thing unnerved me, terribly. Though I was stripped and bound before these men, I did not seem to find myself regarded with interest, curiosity, or relish I might have anticipated, that which one might expect to be accorded to such as I, a naked, bound slave. I hoped, of course that this might prove to be an ordinary, if unusually daring, case of slave theft. Stealing slaves, as you might expect, is a not unusual practice on this world. Among many young men the theft of slaves, and even of free women, from enemy cities is regarded as a sport. Among slavers it is regarded as a business. The prevention of slave theft is one reason for the presence of slave rings in public places, for the fastening of slaves to the foot of couches at night, and so on. I did not much fear slave theft as it would extract me from the boredom, if security, of the garden, indeed, I welcomed the prospect for I hoped that it would, sooner or later, bring me within the grasp of a master who would know how to handle me, and would do so, with audacity and command. But I did not think these men were simply interested in picking up a pleasure-garden girl, even one who might be of unusual interest, either for their own house or to put on the block in some foreign city, hopefully turning a tidy profit on her. I might be beautiful or not, but I did not think these men were interested in that sort of thing. They did not seem to regard me with an interest which suggested they wanted me for themselves, nor, as far as I could tell, did I find in their gaze any speculations as to how I might appear to possible buyers, or to an unknown principal.