“We thank you,” said Astrinax, “for your concern.”
“Today,” said Kleomenes, “you were fortunate, but the Voltai is dangerous. There are beasts, some quite dangerous. There might be avalanches, suddenly flooding streams, dislodged boulders, tumbling, fallen trees, trails might be lost, faded or washed away. It is even possible gangs of ruffians are about, seeking refuge in the wilderness from the guardsmen of a dozen cities.”
“You are right,” said Astrinax, “we must think of turning back.”
Trachinos looked up, quickly, suspiciously. If we did turn back, there might be little point in delaying the strike of his band, somewhere in the mountains.
Could this whole venture be some meaningless lark, pointless, one without a horde, a concealed treasure, a vein of gold somewhere?
“Why are you in the Voltai?” Kleomenes inquired, pleasantly.
“We are instructed,” said Astrinax, guardedly.
“By whom?” asked Kleomenes.
“Would you care for a game of cards?” asked Desmond of Harfax.
“No,” said Kleomenes, “I do not gamble.”
I was frightened by the sound of that.
“Come now, Kleomenes,” said one of his men, jocularly, “you do cards.”
“Ah, yes,” said Kleomenes, “now and then, but not now.”
Shortly thereafter the Lady Bina, perhaps drowsy from the ka-la-na, had retired.
When I was serving, my ankle was suddenly grasped by Trachinos. I could not move. “Ho, noble Desmond,” said Trachinos, “do you not think this ankle would look well in a pretty anklet?”
“She has trim ankles,” said Desmond. “They shackle well.”
“Would you not like, kajira,” said Trachinos, “to have a pretty anklet? You might then be the envy of your sister slaves.”
I did know such things, an anklet, a bracelet, an armlet, could be prized amongst kajirae.
“It will be done with me,” I said, “as masters please.”
He then released my ankle, and I hurried away.
“Paga!” he called to Jane.
“Yes, Master,” she said, hurrying to him.
The men continued to converse, about many things, things of interest to men, techniques of hunting, the best seasons and terrains, the politics of mighty Ar, the taverns of Venna, the Vennan races, the breeds of tharlarion, the kaiila and slaves they had owned, and such.
Jane, Eve, and I knelt in the background, close enough to be easily summoned, far enough away to be unobtrusive.
I had tried, in my serving, to catch the eye of Master Desmond, to avoid the eye of Master Trachinos.
As the evening wore on one or another of the hunters cast us a glance. I became more and more aware that the Lady Bina had retired.
“Do your girls dance?” asked Kleomenes.
I was startled. I had never thought of dancing, certainly not as a woman might dance before Gorean males.
I wondered what it might be, commanded, to dance before such males, and as a slave.
“Ela,” said Astrinax, woefully, “no. They are all ignorant barbarians.”
“Barbarians?” said Kleomenes.
“They are cheap,” said Astrinax.
“Some barbarians are quite expensive,” said Kleomenes.
“These were cheap,” said Astrinax.
“What of their use?” asked Kleomenes.
“They are owned by the lady,” said Astrinax, “and I fear she has retired.”
“Well,” said Kleomenes, pleasantly, “there are many such vulos in Venna.”
“You are returning to Venna then,” said Astrinax.
“Early,” said Kleomenes, “probably before you rise.”
“What of the meat?” asked Astrinax.
“Some we will put over our saddles,” said Kleomenes, “some we will leave for you. We will break the tusks loose from the jaws. The tusks of Voltai tarsk sell well in Venna.”
“You are professional hunters then,” said Astrinax.
“No,” said Kleomenes, “we hunt for the sport, the chase, the kill.”
“It is a dangerous sport,” said Astrinax.
“So, then,” said Kleomenes, “it races the blood, it sharpens the eye, and is thus, for that, the better sport.”
“And the tusks sell well,” said Trachinos.
“That, too, noble friend,” said Kleomenes.
“Possibly there are even more dangerous sports,” said Desmond of Harfax.
“Possibly,” said Kleomenes.
“I fear it is late,” said Lykos, “and we, too, must depart early.”
“You are proceeding then?” said Kleomenes.
“I think so,” said Astrinax.
“Then we shall wish you well,” said Kleomenes.
“And we, you,” said Astrinax.
“We have,” said Kleomenes, “a rare liqueur of Turia, which we were saving for the night of victory, the celebration of a successful hunt.”
“This night, then?” said Desmond of Harfax.
“Why not?” said Kleomenes.
“What liqueur?” asked Trachinos.
“That of Falnus,” said Kleomenes.
“Aii!” said Trachinos.
“You know the liqueur?” asked Kleomenes.
“I am from Turia,” said Trachinos.
“I understand,” said Master Desmond, “it is known even in Teletus.”
“It is worth a golden tarsk in Ar,” said Trachinos.
At a sign from Kleomenes one of his men left the fire, to seek the vicinity of their packs.
Shortly thereafter he appeared in the firelight bearing a small flask, sealed with golden cord.
The seal was undone, and Kleomenes handed the flask to Astrinax.
“It is your victory, your hunt celebration,” said Master Desmond. “You should drink first.”
“But you are our hosts, and it is our gift to you, to share this rarity with you,” said Kleomenes.
“Nonetheless,” said Desmond of Harfax, politely.
“Very well,” said Kleomenes, and drank from the flask.
“Give it to me,” said Trachinos.
He received the flask.
“Do not drink it all,” warned Astrinax.
The flask was then handed about, amongst the masters, the hunters, and those of our party.
“Ah!” cried Astrinax.
“It is from the house of Falnus,” Kleomenes reminded us. “Raiders of the Wagon Peoples sometimes raid Turian caravans for this, and, of course, Turian women, to be put in the chatka and curla, the kalmak, and a nose ring.”
I understood little of this. I gathered it had to do with a garmenture in which slaves might be kept. I did understand the concept of a nose ring.
“Superb,” said Lykos.
“Quite good,” said Desmond of Harfax.
Even taciturn Akesinos, who had scarcely spoken the entire evening, seemed pleased.
“And you,” said Kleomenes, rising to his feet, stumbling a little, “the three of you, pretty kajirae, put your hands down on your thighs, put your heads back, far, and open your mouths, widely!”
“Master!” we cried, gratefully.
How fortunate we were, how privileged, how generous the master! Many free persons, doubtless, had never tasted a Turian liqueur, not to speak of that of Falnus.
“Enough, enough,” said Kleomenes.
“Thank you, Master!” we breathed.
It was like a sweet, burning drop of liquid fire, flavored with flower herbs and, detectably, tospit and larma.
Warm words of pleasant parting were exchanged, and the hunters withdrew to their camp, and tethered tharlarion.
“I will shackle you for the night,” said Desmond of Harfax.
I tried to press myself against him, but he thrust me away.
He turned about. “Come along,” he said.
I stumbled.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “I am unsteady.”
He leaned against the side of the wagon. Then he struck his fist against the wood.
“Astrinax!” he called. “Lykos! Trachinos, Akesinos!”
There was no reply.
He clutched the side of the wagon, trying to hold himself upright.
“Fools, fools, fools!” he said.
I went to my knees, and then to all fours. I shook my head. Then I must have slipped to the ground.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was hard to see, against the pounding rain. The pack I bore was sodden. Water ran down the side of the mountain. The trail beneath our feet was half washed away. The sky was again black with a mountain storm. It was the third day of rain. We all, men and slaves, bore our burdens, with the exception of the Lady Bina, for she was a free woman. The heavier burdens were borne by the men, the lighter by myself, and Jane and Eve. Our tunics had not been dry for days. Our legs were run with water and mud. We had salvaged what we could from the three wagons, which we had left behind. In the third wagon there had been some weaponry, some spears, two swords, a crossbow with a dozen quarrels. None of the men, I took it, knew the Peasant bow, the great bow, else such a formidable weapon would have been carried, one of rapidity of fire, of remarkable penetration. Had Trachinos been truly of the Peasants, as his garb suggested, he would have known that weapon, and not been without it. Peasant boys, from childhood, are trained in the use of bows, preparing them for the day when they will have the strength to draw the great bow, on which day they are accounted men, suitable for mating with free women. Our weaponry, of course, was borne by the men. It can be death for a slave to touch a weapon.