“It is an entire world,” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
“But the important thing, really, about slave garments,” I said, “whether they are the riches of gowns, with perhaps a slit in them through which a thigh must be revealed, or the tiniest of strings and slave strips, is that they are just that, slave garments. It is their meaning, primarily, which renders them provocative, that they are slave garments, that she who wears them is slave.”
“Yes!” she said. “That is it!”
“We must be on our way,” I said.
“I have seen some slaves in the streets naked,” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “We are subject to that.”
“If I were a slave,” she said, “I could be put in the street that way, couldn’t I?”
“Of course,” I said.
“You are so vulnerable,” she said.
“Yes,” I said.
She looked down at her knees. They were not pressed closely together.
“Have you heard, Janice,” she asked, “anything of my ransom?”
“No,” I said. “Alas, no.”
“Perhaps I have been forgotten?” she said.
“No, I am sure that is not the case,” I said. “You must keep up your hopes!”
“What do you know of my hopes?” she asked.
I did not understand this.
“Are you slaves dawdling?” asked a man’s voice.
“No, Master!” I cried. “We were just leaving!” I leaped to my feet. “Up, lazy, Tuta!” I said, angrily. I snapped the free woman’s leash. She seemed startled at this but, responsive to my command, and doubtless, too, not failing to comprehend the leash signal, rose swiftly to her feet. “Does she not know how to respond?” asked the man. “What do you say?” he asked the free woman. “Yes, Mistress!” exclaimed the free woman. “She is new to her collar,” I explained. “Do not be easy with her,” said the man. “That is not how a slave is trained.” “Yes, Master” I said. “Forgive us, Masters!” I said, for there were two men there, in tunics and cloaks. I then, head down, avoiding their eyes, as a slave normally does with unknown free men, turned about and led the free woman up the stairs. I think the men watched us ascend, and then, at their own pace, also ascended the stairs. We had ascended but two or three steps when I heard one of the men say something to the other. “A pair of juice puddings,” he said. “Yes,” said the other.
In a few minutes, perhaps three or four, we came to the largest of the high terraces. There were many other high terraces in this part of the city, but none were as large, as spacious, as splendid, as this. I had a special reason for coming to this terrace.
“How glorious is the view!” exclaimed the free woman.
I recalled that she had told me that she had been brought here hooded in her own veils. I had had fastened upon me, doubtless appropriately, a simple slave hood.
I took her toward the balustrade, where we might look out.
“It is breathtakingly beautiful!” she exclaimed.
We drank in the sight of the snow-capped peaks, the darkness in the valleys, the patches of cloud in the bright sky. So small we were in the face of nature.
“Janice,” said the free woman.
“Yes,” I said.
“Do you remember what the man said on the stairs, as we left?”
“Do not concern yourself with the matter,” I said.
“I am not sure I understood him,” she said.
“Consider the beauty of the mountains,” I said.
“Janice!” she protested.
“It is only a vulgar expression,” I said, “like ‘vulo’ or tasta’.”
“Those are not vulgar expressions,” she said. “A vulo is a kind of bird, a tasta is a kind of candy, often mounted on a stick.”
“They can be vulgar expressions when applied to slaves,” I said.
“I see,” she said.
“If you were a slave,” I said, “you could understand how a man might speak of you as slave meat, or as his vulo, or his tasta, or his pudding, and so on, for that is, frankly, what you would be.”
“Are you a juicy pudding, Janice?” she asked.
“I had best hope that I am,” I said.
“Am I a juicy pudding?’ she asked.
“Perhaps, if you were a slave,” I said, “you might prove to be such.”
“I see,” she said.
“And you would best concern yourself to do your best to be such,” I said.
“Of course,” she said.
“Do not look now,” I said, “but there is a fellow back a bit and to the right who ahs his eye on your. He may thing you qualify as a juicy pudding right now.”
“Like the men on the stairs!” she laughed.
“Yes,” I said. “Don’t look,” I cautioned her.
“Do you think he would like me to be his juicy pudding?” she asked.
“It seems to me quite possible,” I said.
“How wonderful!” she said.
“You might not think it so wonderful if you were roped and hooded and carried off,” I said.
“It would improve a girl’s price, wouldn’t it?” she asked.
“What?” I asked.
“Being a juicy pudding,” she said.
“How vulgar you are,” I said.
“Wouldn’t it?” she asked.
“Undoubtedly,” I said.
“How beautiful this place is!” she said.
“I have come here for a purpose,” I said. “I want to check on something. I will, accordingly, take you to the side for a time, to the wall over there, and secure you there.”
“Secure me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “To one of the slave rings. But I will be back shortly.”
“May I inquire as to what you are going to do?” she asked.
“No,” said I, “Tuta.”
“Yes, Mistress,” she smiled.
We then turned away from the balustrade, to make our way across the large terrace. “Keep your eyes ahead!” I said. I had seen her glance about, doubtless trying to locate the fellow I had mentioned to her earlier. It had been a mistake, I supposed, to have called her attention to the matter. It was surely not necessary that she, as a free woman, know that she, looked upon as a slave, had been found of interest by a male. She now kept her eyes ahead. I think it cost her some effort to do so. But she was trying to be cooperative and, after all, it was I who had held her leash. There was a three-tiered decorative basin on the terrace, on the way to the wall. The first, or uppermost, tier was some four feet above the surface of the terrace, the second, or middle, tier was about three feet above the surface of the terrace; the lowest tier, the third tier, was almost level with the surface of the terrace itself. “May I drink, Janice?” she asked. “Yes,” I said. There had seemed something a little suspicious in her voice. I wondered if she truly wanted to drink, or if this were a stratagem to dally, perhaps to, as though inadvertently, steal a glance about, perhaps in the hope of seeing the fellow I had mentioned. But it was warm today. She stopped at the basin. She turned about. Yes, she was looking about, the vixen, over the surface of the water in the uppermost basin! “I cannot use one of the cups, or cup the water in my hands Janice,” she said. “Perhaps you will help me.” Then she whispered. “Which one is he?” “The one over there,” I said, “in the scarlet tunic, and cloak, looking this way.” Quickly, flushing, she looked down. “He is handsome!” she whispered. “Remember you are collared.” I whispered. She must be concerned about the propriety of her behavior! “Perhaps you will help me, Janice” she said, aloud. “No!” I said. What did she thing? She seemed surprised by this, but then bent forward, to drink from the upper basin. “Oh!” she cried, jerked to the side by the leash. “What are you doing?” I asked her. “I was going to drink,” she said. “I don’t do not understand,” “Kneel,” I said, “and drink from the lowest basin. The upper basin is for citizens and fold of honor, the second basin is for resident aliens and common visitors, the third basin, the lowest basin, is for animals.” She then knelt beside the third basin, the lowest basin, that which was almost level with the surface of the terrace itself, and, head down, her hands bracelted behind her, the leash running to her neck, drank.