"What are you doing?" I asked. "I am a free woman!"
"How is it, did you say," asked the man behind me, "that on are unclothed?" "Bandits took my clothes!" I said.
"And left you?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"If it had been up to me," said the fellow behind me, "I think I would have taken you along and left the clothes."
I was silent.
"I suppose," he said, pleasantly enough, "they might have had poor of eyesight, or perhaps it was just very dark."
I did not speak.
"What is your Home Stone?" he asked.
I thought quickly. I did not want to identify myself with Corcyrus, of course, or any cities or towns in that area, even Argentum. Too, I knew we had flown northwest. I then took, most out of the air, a city far to the north, one I had heard of but one, unfortunately, that I knew little about. The name had been mentioned, I did recall, on the tarn platform, in the imp of Miles of Argentum. Perhaps that is what suggested it My mind.
"That of Lydius," I said.
"What is the location of Lydius?" he asked.
"North," I said. "North."
"And where in the north?" he asked.
I was silent.
"On what lake does Lydius lie?" he asked.' "I do not know," I said.
"It does not lie on a lake," he said.
"Of course not," I said.
"On what river does it lie?" he asked.
"It doesn't lie on a river," I said.
"It is on the Laurius," he said.
I was silent.
"What is the first major town east of Lydius?" he asked.
"I don't remember," I said.
"Vonda," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"No," he said. "Vonda is on the Olvi. It is Laura."
"Yes," I said, sick and hungry, chained.
"You are certain that you are a free woman?" asked the man.
"Yes," I said.
"Where is your escort, your guards?" be asked.
"I was traveling alone," I said.
"That is unusual for a free woman," he said.
I was silent.
"What were you doing on this road?" he asked.
"Traveling," I said. "Visiting."
"And where did you think you were going?" asked the man.
"I don't know," I sobbed. I did not even know what towns lay along this road. I did not even know where I was.
"Look here," said the fellow. He turned me about. I saw he was a brawny, blond youth. He did not seem angry or cruel. He crouched down and, with one finger, near the bottom of the ditch, made a precise marking, or drawing, in the mud. "What letter is that?" he asked.
"I do not know," I said.
"Al-ka," he said.
"I cannot read," I said.
"Most free women can read," he said.
"I was not taught," I said.
"You have a luscious body," he said.
"Please unchain me," I said.
"It has delicious slave curves," he said.
"Unchain me, please," I begged.
"Your body does not suggest that it is the body of a free woman," he said. "It suggests, rather, that it is the body of a natural slave."
"I beg to be unchained," I said. "You can see that I am a free woman. My body is unbranded. I do not wear a collarl" f "Some masters," said he, "are so foolish as not to brand and collar their women."
"That would be stupid," I said.
"I think so," he said.
"So you can see, then," I said, "that I, uncollared, unbranded, must be free." "Not necessarily," he smiled.
"Unchain me," I begged.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Lita," I said. I remembered this name from the time that Drusus Rencius had taken me to the house of Kliomenes in Corcyrus. It was the name he had chosen for me there, Lady Lita, of Corcyrus. It had sprung into my mind probably because of that trip. Too, I recalled that both Publius and Drusus Rencius had thought that it would be a good name for me.
Both of the men then laughed, he standing now before me as I sat on the bank, and he, who was apparently alone, on the surface of the road.
"What is wrong?" I asked.
"That is a slave name," he said.
"Nol" I said.
"It is a common slave name," he said. "Indeed, it is one of the names popular with the masters for unusually juicy and helpless slaves."
"It is also the name of some free women," I said.
"It is possible, I suppose," said the man.
"Please unchain me," I begged.
"Lita," said the man.
"Lady Lita," I said.
"Lita," said he.
I looked at him in misery.
"It seems clear you are a slave, Lita," he said. "You are naked. You apparently have no Home Stone. You do not know where you are. You cannot even read. Your name is even that of a slave."
"Nol" I said.
"But it is," he said. "Therefore, since it seems clear that you are a runaway slave, you will henceforth address us as "Master."' "Please, no," I said.
"If you are actually a free woman, as you claim," he said, no great harm will be done.
"You spoke to me," she said.
"Yes," I said. "Forgive me, kind lady. No one has read me the legend posted over my head. I beg you to do so."
She lifted her robes and climbed to the cement platform.
She was about two inches taller than I. She stood then before me.
"You spoke to me," she said. "Yes, kind lady," I said.
"Where you come from," she said, "do slaves not address free women as "Mistress'?"
"I am a free woman, too," I said. "I am not a slave."
"Naked, lying slave!" hissed the woman.
I beg you for kindness," I said. "Even if I were a slave, which I am not, we share the same sex. We are both women."
"I am a woman," she said. "You are an animal."
"Take pity on me," I said. "We have in common at least that we are females." "Do not dare to see me in terms of such a denominator," she said. "It is not my fault that I share a sex with she-sleen and she-tarsks, and, lower than either, with she-slaves."
"I am not a slave," I said. "I am free. I am not collared. I am not branded!" "If I owned you," she snapped, "you would soon be collared and branded, and then you would be sent to the stables or scullery, where you belongl"
Forgive me," I said.
"Forgive you, what?" she said. in fury.
"Mistress!" I said.
"I know your type," she said, in fury. "You are the sort for whom my companion forsakes me! You are the sort he runs panting after in the taverns, the sort whose bodies their masters sell for the price of a drinkl"
"No," I said. "Nol"
"You are the sort of woman who likes men, aren't you?" she said.
"No, Mistress," I cried. "No! No!"
"Why aren't you kneeling, Slut?" she asked.
"I'm chained," I cried. "I can't!"
"Kneel," ordered the free woman, coldly.
"I can't, Mistress!" I wept. I let myself hang from the shackles, my knees bent, piteously.
"You should not have accosted a free woman," she said. She then removed her gloves and, with them, struck me across the face. Tears sprang to my eyes. "You must also address her as "Mistress,'" she said. I was then struck again. "You have denied your slavery," she said. "You have dared to compare yourself with me, insulting me by calling to my attention that we are both females. You have denied that you arc of the category of the sensuous slut! You have denied, lyingly, that you are eager to serve menl" She then struck me four times. "Do you think I cannot see what you are?" she asked. "Do you think it is unclear to anyone who looks upon you? Do you think I am stupid? Anyone could see that you are a slavel It is obviousl" Then she lashed me across the face and mouth with her gloves, several times. It did not really hurt so much, but it did sting, and, of course, it was terribly humiliating. I began to cry. "And you did not kneel!" she cried. She struck me twice again. I hung in the shackles, sobbing. I was most afraid that she might call the Archon's man. He might, if requested, I feared, use a whip on me. She then, angrily, withdrew from the platform and resumed her journey down the street.