"Perhaps in the morning,” said Grendel.
"Lita has prepared beds for you, such as she could,” said Cabot.
"My thanks, Warrior,” said Grendel.
Grendel and the Lady Bina then retired.
"Am I to be tied tonight, Master?” asked Lita.
"No,” said Cabot. “Moreover, as there is a free woman in the vicinity, go off a bit, and prepare yourself a bower, alone."
"Master!” she protested.
"We must not disturb her rest,” said Cabot, “or annoy her, or keep her up all night listening for the slightest sound like a suspicious she-urt. Thus, no thrashings about this night, no moanings, no uncontrollable gaspings, no wild, inadvertent utterances, no sudden cryings out, none of that sort of thing."
"May I not, at least, sleep at my master's feet?"
"No,” he said, “for I am only human."
"Yes, Master,” she said, resigned, and began to retreat into the near darkness.
"Lita,” he called softly.
"Yes, Master,” she responded.
"Are you going to run away?” he asked.
"No,” she said.
"Why not?” he asked.
"I cannot,” she said. “I am chained."
"How is that?” he asked.
"I am held in the most perfect and inescapable of all chains,” she said.
"What is that?” he asked.
"That I am your slave, my Master,” she said.
* * * *
It was near the second Ahn when Cabot, stirring, sensed a presence near him.
"Make no sound, Lord Tarl,” whispered the Lady Bina.
"Where is Lord Grendel?” asked Cabot.
"He is sleeping,” said the Lady Bina.
"How is it that you are not tethered?” asked Cabot.
The Lady Bina laughed, softly. “I told the beast that I would not leave my bower, and if he truly loved me, he must trust me."
"He believed you,” said Cabot.
"And so for the first night in days, I am neither a raft's prisoner, nor tethered ashore."
"He trusts you,” said Cabot.
"Yes,” said the Lady Bina.
"What do you want?” asked Cabot.
"I must speak with you,” she said.
"So, speak,” said Cabot.
"The beast,” she said, “is treasonous to the world's master."
"The world's master,” said Cabot, “in the view of many is treasonous to the world."
"No,” said the Lady Bina, “for it is the world's master who defines treason."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"You fell from his favor,” she said, “but might regain it, if you exercise audacity and judgment."
"How so?” asked Cabot.
"You are strong, and have a sharpened stick,” she said. “You could fall upon Grendel in the darkness, and slay him in his sleep."
"You want him dead,” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” she said. “He is ugly, presumptuous, repulsive, and dangerous."
"He loves you,” said Cabot.
"I loathe and despise him,” she said. “He is a beast, a monster, neither Kur nor human."
"Why do you not kill him yourself?” asked Cabot.
"I might fail,” she said.
"Do not fear,” said Cabot. “Even so, he would probably forgive you."
"You would not fail,” she insisted.
"I would like to sleep,” said Cabot.
"Kill him, and come away with me,” she said. “Think! We know much that would be of value to Lord Agamemnon. He would reward us well for what we know."
"Lord Grendel could have killed me on the beach,” said Cabot. “He did not do so."
"What is this?” queried the Lady Bina. “Honor?"
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"Men are fools,” she said.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"I am beautiful, am I not?” she asked.
"Yes,” said Cabot. “Very beautiful."
"Come away with me,” she said. “Perhaps I will let you hold me, and touch me, and kiss me."
"What of the slave, Lita?” inquired Cabot.
"Abandon her,” said the Lady Bina. “Or sell the collared slut, or give her to me, as a serving slave. I will lash her into a terrified, miserable, excellent serving slave."
"I am sure you could do that,” said Cabot.
"I have never forgotten your kiss, by the lock in the sport cylinder,” she said.
"It was a mistake,” said Cabot.
"You could not help yourself,” said the Lady Bina. “You found me irresistible, irresistibly luscious, as will other men."
"You should be collared, and sold,” said Cabot.
"Too,” she said, softly, “I have never forgotten your touch."
"That in the breeding shackles?"
"Yes!” she said, angrily.
"I think you should return to your bower,” said Cabot.
"Touch me, again,” she said, “as you did then. I will permit you to do so."
"Lady Bina is generous,” said Cabot.
"Do so,” she said.
"No,” said Cabot.
"'No'?"
"No."
"I want it,” she said.
"We often want things we cannot have,” said Cabot.
"But I am a free woman,” she said.
"Even so,” said Cabot.
"I hate you,” she said.
"You could always cry out to Lord Grendel,” said Cabot, “to rescue you from my foul grasp."
"He would kill you,” she said.
"If he believed you, perhaps,” said Cabot.
"And he would still be alive,” she said.
"Or if I should survive,” said Cabot, “you would then have me to answer to, would you not? And what do you think would then be your fate?"
"Do you not love me?"
"If I did not use you for bait on the beach,” said Cabot, “I might sell you, or give you to Lita, as a serving slave."
"How can you not love me?” she asked.
"You are an extremely beautiful and desirable woman,” he said, “and you would doubtless, stripped, bring a good price on the auction block, but, even so, it is less difficult than you surmise."
"I can bring you not only beauty,” she said, “but position, honor, and riches."
"That is an obvious superiority of the free woman over the slave,” he said.
"Certainly,” she said.
"Strange then,” said he, “how men should prefer slaves."
"A slave's beauty,” she said, “is not even hers to bring—but others’ to buy or seize."
"True,” said Cabot.
"And she will not bring you wealth and power!"
"One might sell her for a profit,” said Cabot.
"What can one have from a slave?” she scoffed.
"Herself,” said Cabot, “wholly, as one cannot begin to have from a free woman."
"They would be no more than your animal,” she said.
"True,” said Cabot.
"And doubtless,” she said, “an animal from whom one may have unquestioning, instantaneous obedience and, at one's least whim, inordinate pleasure."
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"Despicable!” she said.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"Men wish their women to be slaves?” she said.
"That is how they want them,” said Cabot.
"Such as that despicable Lita,” she said.
"She lacked much on the world, Earth,” said Cabot, “which she has now found, in a collar."
"Come away with me,” she said. “Let us hasten to Agamemnon!"
"I am weary,” said Cabot. “Return to your bower."
"You refuse to kill Grendel? You refuse to accompany me to Agamemnon?"
"Yes,” said Cabot. “Now return to your bower."
"I hate you,” she hissed.
"Return to your bower,” said Cabot, and turned away from her, to sleep.
Chapter, the Thirty-Third:
A RETURN TO THE HABITATS IS CONTEMPLATED
The light was bright on the lake, and it was not well to look too long on its waters.
"Why did we wait three days?” asked Cabot.
"I hoped she would return,” said Grendel.