"Flavion would be the last to wish her freed,” said a Kur.
"He has always urged that justice be meted out to her,” said another.
"He is innocent,” said another.
Cabot put his hand out, gently, and touched the arm of Lord Grendel.
Lord Grendel spun about and Cabot feared his arm would be torn from his body. It was terrible to look into the raging eyes of Lord Grendel.
Then, with a mighty effort, almost as though an exploded cliff, tumbling and showering boulders, might arrest itself in flight, and then, slowly, carefully reassemble each pebble and each stone in its place, Lord Grendel slowly straightened his body, and looked about himself.
"Forgive me,” said Lord Grendel.
"It seems, dear Flavion, you will survive the day,” said Statius.
"Lord Grendel is perhaps not himself,” said Flavion, uncertainly.
"He has gone mad,” said a Kur, softly.
"This,” said another, “is our commander, in whose hands lie our fates?"
"Where is Cestiphon?” asked Lord Grendel.
"Bring him here,” said Flavion, “in chains!"
"No,” said Lord Grendel. Then he looked about himself. “Has anyone here seen anything, does anyone here know aught of this?"
Only demurrals greeted this inquiry.
Shortly thereafter, ushered forward by two Kurii, came Cestiphon.
"Lord Grendel?” he said. Then he looked about himself, and then to the ground. “Where is the pretty little chain slut?” he said.
"Beware,” said Flavion, “you are speaking of a free woman."
"She is gone,” said Archon.
"Where?"
"We do not know,” said a Kur.
"Do you know aught of this?” demanded Flavion.
"No,” said Cestiphon, “but I am not displeased. There are better things to do with an exquisite female than tear her to pieces."
"Put her up for sale,” suggested Cabot.
"I would have liked to have had her on my neck rope,” said Cestiphon, “with my others."
"Kill him!” said Flavion.
"No,” said Lord Grendel.
"Why would anyone free her?” asked Cabot. “She is nothing to Kurii, as she is human. At best, they would want her blood. And why would humans free her, unless they could have her for their own? But there is nowhere to keep her, or hide her."
"I do not see her bell here,” said Lord Grendel.
"It is not here,” said Statius, looking about.
"Then it is still on her,” said a Kur.
"No one heard it sound,” said another Kur.
"She could hold it silent, in her escape,” said Lord Grendel.
"Perhaps,” said Flavion, “one who wished her blood made off with her."
"It would have been easier to remove her head, in a single bite,” said Statius. “And who would steal her? And where, if she were stolen, could she be taken?"
The confluence of these realities and speculations whirled about in the mind of Tarl Cabot, Lord Grendel's human ally. It seemed the hand of his mind reached out to grasp something, but it slipped from his grasp.
"Where is the tiara?” suddenly asked Cabot.
It was shortly discovered that it was missing.
"She must be making her way to the lines of Agamemnon,” said Flavion, “for she was his human."
"He would have had her on the slaughter bench,” said Lord Grendel.
"Is that worse than dying on the torture table?” said Cestiphon.
"It seems clear she must have had a confederate in the camp,” said Flavion. “Who knows what she might have been promised?"
"Of what use could she now be to Agamemnon?” asked a Kur.
"To the forward lines!” said Lord Grendel.
So the Lady Bina was missing.
That she was missing, however unaccountable this might seem, was less disturbing to Cabot than why she might be missing.
On the surface there seemed little that was rational here.
But there must be, he was sure, a concealed rationality, a rationality awaiting some intelligible elucidation.
Threads of thought, like strands in water, like half-visible snakes, coiled and uncoiled in Cabot's mind.
Certainly the Lady Bina would have welcomed any opportunity to escape.
But she would have had to have help to effect her escape, help to elude her constraints, and presumably help to pass through the insurrectionists’ lines.
There would thus have to be a purpose other than her own involved in all this.
And what purpose could that be?
"Of what use could she now be to Agamemnon?” had asked a Kur.
He then recalled, suddenly, sharply, his conversation in the redoubt with Flavion.
"Arrangements have already been made,” had said Flavion.
With a cry of alarm Cabot hurried to the forward lines.
"Where is Lord Grendel!” he cried.
"There, there!” cried a Kur, pointing to the wide, long field separating the near side of the habitats from the forward lines. “We could not stop him!” said the Kur.
"The glass, give me the glass!” cried Cabot, and the instrument was placed in his hands.
"He heard the bell below, from a half pasang distant,” said Statius. “He leaped over the parapet and sped below, to rescue the Lady Bina."
"Down there,” said a Kur, “in midst of the cattle humans."
"He will fetch her back,” said another.
"He should have sent others,” said a Kur. “He is commander."
"He is mad,” said another.
"We could not stop him,” said Flavion. “He will return shortly."
Cabot peered anxiously through the glass. “I know that herd!” he said. “Its leader is the cattle human from the time of the slaughter bench, he who noted the Lady Bina, he who understood in his simple, doltish, stupid way her role in leading others to the slaughter bench, he who would have her blood!"
"No!” cried Flavion, in dismay.
"It is no coincidence that it is that herd and not another which is foraging below!” cried Cabot.
"Surely it is a mere coincidence,” protested Flavion.
"No, no!” cried Cabot.
"They will kill the Lady Bina!” said Statius.
"Nonsense,” said Flavion. “Lord Grendel will have her before they even realize she is amongst them."
"He will return shortly,” said a Kur.
"We will then learn who abetted her escape,” said another Kur.
"Certainly,” said Flavion.
"No, no!” cried Cabot. “Seize power weapons! Follow me!"
"Are you mad?” said Flavion.
"This is not about the Lady Bina!” cried Cabot, taking a rifle. “This is about Lord Grendel! The herd is cover! Mingled in that herd will be the minions of Agamemnon!"
Cabot then scrambled over the parapet, and began to run, wildly, toward the herd.
"He is mad!” cried Flavion. “Do not follow him! Remain here!"
Concealed amongst the cattle humans were somewhere between twenty and twenty-five Kurii, these picked minions of the elite of Lord Agamemnon's forces, each armed with a power weapon.
Lord Grendel had entered the herd unarmed, save insofar as a Kur can be said to be unarmed, given their size, might, agility, fangs, and claws.
We might suppose that given the odds involved and the importance of Lord Grendel that the Kurii of Agamemnon would have been charged with his capture, that he might be later exhibited and dealt with according to the dictates of the war and day, but it seems they had no such charge.
In any event, shortly after Lord Grendel entered the herd, two Kurii rose up from amongst the cattle humans and fired.
In this action may perhaps be detected the astute recommendation of Flavion, whose grasp of politics, diplomacy, and war was of a most direct, simple, and practical sort.
The head of one of the cattle humans was burned away but inches from the chest of Lord Grendel, and another cattle human's chest was burned through, in such a way that a portion of Lord Grendel's harness was blackened, and hair singed from his shoulder.