Some ten days after her escape and recovery, and six days after it had begun, the Lady Bina's fever broke. She then, after imbibing some broth administered to her by Lord Grendel, slept soundly for a full day. When she awakened her delirium had passed, and she looked about herself, wonderingly, trying to gather together her thoughts, and comprehend what had happened to her. She then suddenly half sat up in the coverlets and screamed, but was gently pressed back by Lord Grendel. She felt about her neck for the bell, but it was not there. “Sleep,” he advised her, tenderly, and she again slept. Once she thrashed in her sleep and screamed, and awakened, but he again soothed her, and she again slept. It was on the twelfth day after her return to the insurrectionists’ lines that she awakened, lay there awake, not moving, for a long time, and then dared to touch her fingers to her face, and she then cried out, a long, wavering wail, one of horror. She then demanded a mirror. Lord Grendel demurred and tried to soothe her, but she would not be soothed, and would have the mirror. She looked into the mirror and then flung it away and begged to be brought a knife. This request Lord Grendel refused. “Kill me,” she begged. “Kill me!” This request was also refused.
"She is hideous,” said Peisistratus.
"Lord Grendel does not think so,” said Cabot.
"Then he sees something other than we see,” said Peisistratus.
"I think he does,” said Cabot. “I think he always did."
"I could not sell her for a pot girl, let alone a kettle-and-mat girl,” said Peisistratus. “She is good for nothing now but sleen feed, if that."
"She was refusing to eat,” said Statius, “until our friend Cabot spoke to her."
"What did you say?” asked Archon.
"Not a great deal,” said Cabot. “I merely informed her that if she did not eat she would be stripped and lashed, and then force fed, as might be a slave, and that her hands would be fastened behind her, that she not be able to rid herself of the food, that she would not be permitted to starve herself any more than a new slave, who does not yet understand that the will is her master's and not hers, one who does not yet understand fully, as she shortly will, that such things are not permitted to her, and that she is truly a slave, is to be treated as such, and will be treated as such, in short, that she is no longer hers, but is now the master's, that she is now property, his property."
"And Lord Grendel permitted this?” said Statius.
"He authorized me to do whatever I thought useful, or necessary, in the matter."
"How did it turn out?” asked Statius.
"When he entered with food,” said Cabot, “she fed, with neither protest nor dissent."
"Good,” said Peisistratus.
"But you treated her, in effect, as a slave,” said Statius.
"Every free woman, from time to time,” said Cabot, “should be treated as a slave."
"They are all slaves,” said Peisistratus. “The only difference is the collar."
"She may be quiet now, but I fear she will watch,” said Archon, “and, when the opportunity permits, destroy herself."
"She will not be given the opportunity,” said Cabot.
"How is it to be precluded?” asked Archon.
"We will keep her in slave chains,” said Cabot.
"But she is a free woman,” said Statius.
"She should be a slave,” said Cabot. “Thus it is appropriate that she be placed in the chains of a slave, and become accustomed to them."
"Cestiphon, who is a killer human, inured to the sights of the arena, and such, caught a glimpse of her, and cast up his food,” said Statius.
"She need no longer fear then,” said Cabot, “her stripping beneath his appraising glance, his accosting, the callous, imperious grasp of his strong hands on her defenseless beauty."
"I questioned Cestiphon,” said Peisistratus. “It was Flavion who encouraged his advances to the Lady Bina."
"I was sure of it,” said Statius.
It may be recalled, the look, perhaps one of puzzlement, or resentment, that Cestiphon had cast at Flavion. Cestiphon had not anticipated the intervention or fury of Lord Grendel. It had only recently become clear to Cestiphon that Flavion had put him to use, to further his own ends, to bring Lord Grendel hurriedly to the assistance of the Lady Bina, thus betraying his concern for a traitress, and, thus, he hoped, undermining and compromising his position in the camp.
"Not that he would have required a great deal of encouragement,” said Cabot.
"No,” said Peisistratus, “no more than any other healthy human male."
"She need no longer fear a rope on her neck, fastening her amongst his other women,” said Archon.
"Unfortunately,” said Cabot.
"It is my understanding,” said Archon, “that she has begged a sheet, a covering of some sort, with which to conceal her face and body."
"That is true,” said Cabot. “And I have no doubt it will be granted to her."
"Good,” said Peisistratus. “It sickens one to look upon her."
"At least Kurii no longer call for her blood,” said Peisistratus.
"Why should they?” said Archon. “What could they do to her now that she would not welcome?"
It would be injudicious, and certainly unnecessary, in a reportorial narrative of this sort, to delineate in any detail the terrible moments which were spent by the Lady Bina in the clutches of the cattle humans. They had, of course, their nails and teeth, small stones, sharpened sticks, and such. With these there had been a brief frenzy of tearing, poking, stabbing, gouging, and cutting, such things, which attentions had not been restricted to any particular portion of her small body, but had been delivered almost randomly, with a violent, vengeful, doltish zeal.
"Many,” said Statius, “feel she should be turned out of the camp."
"To die?” asked Cabot.
"Presumably."
"Lord Grendel would not permit it,” said Cabot.
"Her presence depresses many in the camp,” said Statius.
"She will cover herself,” said Cabot.
"Have any heard aught of the traitor, Flavion?” asked Archon.
"No,” said Statius.
"I should not like to be he, should Lord Grendel learn of his whereabouts,” said Archon.
"Nor I,” said Statius.
The reader notes that Archon referred to Flavion as a traitor. This was now common knowledge in the camp, given the freeing of the Lady Bina, the attempt on the life of Lord Grendel, his flight, and such.
The Lady Bina had confirmed, as was scarcely necessary, the collusion of Flavion in her escape. She had regarded him as a secret friend, concerned to protect her, as possible, from the wrath of Kurii. After all, had she not once served Agamemnon? She had thus been overwhelmed with gratitude at having been accorded an opportunity to escape. She had not understood, of course, her unwitting role in the attempt on the life of Lord Grendel, who was certain to follow her. Nor did she understand the nature of the cattle humans through which she was to make her way, identified in her tiara, to the lines of Agamemnon, of whose shelter, contrition, gratitude, and affection she had been assured by Flavion. It is true she had betrayed Peisistratus and Arcesilaus to Lord Agamemnon long ago but the profit she had hoped to accrue from that act had been persuasive, and, of course, although this consideration would do little to mitigate or extenuate the treachery of her act, it might be recalled that she was not a member of a party to which she would have owed an allegiance. Her act then could be conceived of as primarily one of shrewd calculation. Greed for significance, importance, power, and wealth is a motivation to which many humans are susceptible, and we must, in all honesty, acknowledge that it is one to which some Kurii, perhaps surprisingly, are not immune. That motivation, too, we might speculate, might be particularly acute for a certain type of human female, perhaps one at war with herself, self-estranged, self-alienated, discontented with her sex, envying males, or such, as she often finds herself precluded in virtue of her slightness and body from utilizing the usual routes to such advantages, leadership, dominance, aggression, charisma, violence, physical superiority, prowess with weapons, and such. Gorean males, in particular, it seems, prefer women on their knees, stripped and in collars, their lips pressed to their feet. They feel that is where they belong, by nature, and they will have them there, that nature's loveliest gift to them is the natural female; their slave. Too, many females, despite disparaging and alienating acculturations, sense that they rightfully belong at the feet of masters. Often they silently beg for the collar. Many is the female who has brought herself to the feet of a master. Many is the female who has knelt, lowered her head, and extended her arms, piteously, beggingly, wrists crossed, for binding. “I am a slave, Master. I beg to be yours. Please, I beg you, accept me."