“Give it to me,” I said.
“The masters may be displeased,” she said, uneasily.
“Approach,” called one of the guardsmen.
“They are displeased,” said Antiope, apprehensively.
We were then standing before the guardsmen. One of them had lifted his right hand, slightly, the palm up, so we did not kneel. I, and perhaps Antiope, as well, was uneasy at this, as one commonly kneels before a free person, often with the head down.
It was obvious to us that we were being looked upon, as the slaves we were.
Antiope was quite attractive, and I, surely, had often enough seen the eyes of men upon me.
“What is in your mouth?” asked one of the guardsmen of Antiope.
“A candy, Master,” she said.
“It is mine, Master,” I said.
“Please do not take it away from us,” said Antiope.
“Who would wish a candy which has been soiled by the mouth of a slave,” said a guardsman.
“You are dawdling slaves,” said the other. “You should be switched.”
“No, Master,” we assured them.
“The streets are dangerous,” said the first guardsman. “The curfew bar will sound in a bit.”
“Hasten to your cages,” said the other. “You will be safe there.”
“My master does not cage me,” said Antiope.
“Surely a manacle awaits,” said the first guardsman, “hoping to be warmed by your slender, lovely ankle.”
“Thank, you, Master,” said Antiope. “A slave is pleased, if she finds favor with a master.”
“Go,” said the first guardsman.
“Oh!” said Antiope.
“Oh!” I said.
Then we hurried on.
“He does not own me!” said Antiope, smarting.
“Nor the other, me,” I said.
Still, we knew such things were done only when a slave was found attractive. One supposed one should find some gratification, or reassurance, in that.
We were then about a corner, and out of the sight of the guardsmen.
“Give me the candy,” I said.
“I fear,” said Antiope, “it is gone.”
“I see,” I said. To be sure, we had been delayed by the guardsmen.
“But I will tell you a last thing,” said Antiope.
“What is that?” I said.
“Of all the killings, in the streets, men and women,” she said, “all were free.”
“No slave was set upon?” I said.
“No,” she said.
“Why is that?” I asked.
“I do not know,” she said.
“It is a coincidence,” I said.
“The attacks are commonly at night,” she said. “I think, then, slaves would be on their chains, in their kennels, in their cages, such housings.”
“That is doubtless it,” I said.
“But sometimes,” she said, “attacks are in the day, particularly in less frequented districts, and sometimes slaves are abroad at night.”
I supposed that were so.
Usually, of course, they would be in the company of their masters, or, say, keepers, if they might be returning late from feasts, serving slaves, flute slaves, kalika slaves, brothel girls, dancers, or such.
Too, it was not unknown for a neglected slave, if unconstrained, to prowl the streets, hoping for a secret tryst, to relieve her needs.
Sometimes, too, they might be dispatched under the cover of darkness to carry messages for their mistresses, pertaining to projected rendezvous.
To be sure, it was unusual for an unaccompanied slave to be abroad at night. But then, indeed, few, slave or free, if solitary, essayed the streets after dark, particularly in certain districts. One, if sufficiently affluent, and lacking his own men, might hire guards, and a lantern bearer. There were establishments to provide such a service. Too, such conveniences were sometimes available, gratis, to the clientele of certain residences. One such residence was Six Bridges.
“No slaves have been attacked?” I said.
“Not to my knowledge,” said Antiope.
I found that of interest.
“It will soon be curfew,” said Antiope.
We then wished one another well, and, bearing our laundries, took leave of one another.
Chapter Twelve
I dipped the first of the two buckets into the fountain of Aiakos, where I usually drew water. It is at the intersection of Clive and Emerald, and is the nearest fountain to the shop of Epicrates.
It, as many fountains, has two basins, water flowing first into the high basin, and then running over to the lower basin. As an animal I was permitted to drink only from the lower basin, but there was no difficulty in filling the buckets in the upper basin, and we invariably did so, as it was deeper and fresher. The water entered the fountain through eight spouts, oriented to the eight major points of the Gorean compass. Below each spout, on the adjacent stone rim, there are two shallow depressions, or worn areas, the one on the right deeper than that on the left. This difference takes place over generations, as right-handed persons tend to brace the right hand on the rim while leaning over to drink, and left-handed persons tend to place their weight on the left hand as they lean forward to drink. Similar worn places do not appear on the lower rim as slaves, sleen, kaiila, and such, are expected to drink while on all fours. The water is brought in from the Voltai Mountains, or Red Mountains, which at that time I had not seen, far north and east of Ar, by means of long, towering aqueducts, most of which are more than seven hundred pasangs long. The Builders, the “Yellow Caste,” one of the five castes commonly regarded as high castes, engineered these remarkable constructions, and are charged with their supervision, upkeep, and repair.
“Step aside, girl,” said a woman’s voice, and I backed away, my head lowered. The free woman then dipped her pail into the water, and left.
Some free women are cruel to slaves.
I was pleased she had not switched me across the back of the thighs.
I dipped the second bucket into the water.
Men prefer us, I thought.
“Where is Lord Grendel?” the Lady Bina had inquired, unfastening the shackles which held me in place, across the threshold of the apartment.
“Is he not on the roof, Mistress?” I inquired, rubbing my right wrist. To be sure, it was light, and, by now, one would expect him here, below, in the loft, or apartment.
“No,” she said.
“I do not know, Mistress,” I said.
“It is not like him to be absent,” said the Lady Bina.
“No, Mistress,” I said.
I feared he had departed from the roof, after dark, after the curfew had sounded.
I feared there might have been another killing in the streets.
“I would be spoken to,” I said to the Lady Bina.
“To what end?” asked the Lady Bina.
“Things have been muchly different, of late,” I said.
She did not respond.
“There has been much reticence in the household,” I said.
“It has to do, I think,” said the Lady Bina, “with the curfew, the killings. Lord Grendel has been uneasy.”
“There is much unease in the city,” I said.
“That is clear in the streets, the markets,” she said.
“Something is out there, at night,” I said.
“Not always at night,” she said.
“May I speak?” I said.
“Surely,” she said.
“I do not understand Lord Grendel,” I said.
“How so?” she said.
“In the past,” I said, “he cleaned his own body, oiling the fur, washing it, brushing and combing it, with particular care, and, of late, he has had me much attend to him, sometimes an Ahn at a time, often concerning myself with such things.”
“You are grooming him,” she said, “cleaning the fur, and such. Have you encountered small forms of life in the fur?”
“No,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “He is a cleanly brute, and, for his kind, fastidious.”
“I do not understand,” I said.
“Pets,” she said, “are often used by his kind to groom their masters. Much is done with the fingers, and the lips, and teeth. The small forms of life, caught in the fingers, or between the teeth, are eaten.”