Flaminius, my prisoner, looked away, not wanting to meet my eyes.
I went to the side and removed a bowl from its padded, insulating wrap. Its contents were still warm. It was a mash of cooked vulo and rice. Earlier I had taken Yanina to the kitchen. There, under my supervision, on her chain, kneeling, she had cooked it. It was perhaps the first thing she had ever cooked. I had, too, once, later in the afternoon, taken her into a couple of rooms, where I had her tidy them up. I pleased me to see her, once the proud Lady Yanina, helplessly performing these small, domestic tasks. Being a slave is a whole way of life, involving a total modality of existence. There is a great deal more to it than simply serving a master on the furs.
"Eat," I said to Flaminius, spooning some vulo and rice into his mouth. Then, in a bit, I took the bowl, the spoon in it, to where the girl lay. "Kneel," I said to her.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I then took bits of vulo from the bowl and held them out to the girl. I also put some rice in the palm of my hand, from which she took it. I heard Flaminius gasp in anger. "Do you object/" I asked. His slave, before him, was eating from the hand of another man. To be sure, we had all eaten earlier, as well. Then, however, I had had Yanina eat from a pan on the floor.
"No," said Flaminius, hastily.
Yanina looked up at me. She had taken food from my hand.
"Are you sure you do not object?" I asked.
"No, no!" he said, quickly.
I then put the bowl aside. I also picked up my sword sheath, the belt wrapped about it, the blade housed in it.
I looked at Flaminius.
"Do not kill me," he said, suddenly.
"By now," I said, "I believe the papers which I sought, those whose security you had hoped to guarantee, have left the city."
"It does not matter," he said, hastily.
"Once, long ago," I said, "when you sought to consign me to the mercies of urts, I questioned you as to certain matters. You informed me, as I recall, that you did not choose to answer my questions."
He regarded me, frightened.
I drew the blade.
"Perhaps now," I said, "you will choose to answer them."
"I know little about what transpires between Cos and Brundisium," he said. "It has to do with Ar. Too, negotiations have been conducted with secret parties in Ar, parties traitorous to that city."
"Such as yourself?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he said, fearfully. "But what is that to you? Are you of Ar?"
"No," I said. "But I respect the Home Stone of Ar, as that of other cities."
He shrugged.
"Your response," I said, "is unsatisfactory." My blade was at his throat.
"You must have the secret papers," he said. "Otherwise you would not have sought the keys so diligently. Examine them. The answers you seek, or some of them, must be there!"
"An attempt was made on my life, in Port Kar," I said. "Were you responsible for that?"
"No," he said. "We only followed orders, through Belnar."
"What interest would Belnar have had in such a thing?" I asked.
"None, really," he said, wincing, the blade at his throat. "He acted in obedience to the will of another, one more powerful than he."
"What other?" I asked.
"Lurius," he said. "Lurius of Jad, Ubar of Cos!"
"Lurius?" I said.
"Yes!" he cried. "Don't kill me!"
I withdrew the blade from his throat, and he shuddered in his bonds. I had not even thought of gross Lurius, he of Jad, he who was ubar of Cos. Once, long ago, I had sacked a treasure fleet bound from Tyros to Cos, intended for Lurius. Too, at that time, I had taken and chained naked at the prow of my flagship, as a trophy of my victory, the lovely young Vivina, who was being brought to Telnus, the capital of Cos, to be entered into companionship with him, then to be his royal consort. In Port Kar, then, later, I had had her collared, and locked beneath the slaving iron. She was not the preferred slave of Henrius, a captain in Port Kar.
"Why has Lurius acted in this matter only now?" I asked.
"I do not know," said Flaminius, frightened.
It had to do, I was sure, with new movements in the politics of cities. It had to do, I supposed, not only with me, personally, but with Port Kar, as well. To be sure, Lurius had a long memory.
"I am naked and bound," said Flaminius. "You cannot kill me in cold blood!"
"I can," I said.
He regarded me with horror.
"If the semantics of the matter trouble you," I said, "you may regard it as an execution."
"On what grounds!" he cried.
"For treason to Ar," I said.
"I am at your mercy," he said. "Spare me!"
"I may consider doing so," I said.
"Please him!" cried Flaminius to Yanina. "Please him!"
I felt Yanina's tongue, and lips, at my feet. "I desire to do so," she said.
"Slut!" cried Flaminius.
I looked down at the girl rendering her submission at my feet. I sheathed my sword.
I held Yanina in my arms, before Flaminius. I looked down into her eyes.
"You well tricked us," she said. "How you had me thinking myself so clever! What you had out of me, what you made me do! How shameless and wanton I had to be! How you let me think that I was beguiling you, that I in a desperate fashion was buying time for rescuers to appear. Buy you had all, all, and no rescuers appeared!"
"The slaves owes such, and more, to any master who commands her," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Rescuers might have appeared," I said. "It was merely that I did not expect them to do so."
"What would you have done, if they had arrived?" she asked.
"I would have left," I said.
"So simply?" she said.
"Yes," I said. "Do you question me?"
"No," she said. "Yanina does not question Master."
I took the heavy padlock in my fingers, that under her chin, that which held the chain on her neck. I flipped it, and let it fall back. She could feel its weight drag against the chain. "It holds me well," she said.
I put my head down, and kissed her, and her lips met mine, yielding, in the unmistakable softness, and submission, and gratitude, of the owned slave.
"Slave!" snarled Flaminius.
"I began, Master, this morning," she whispered to me, "pretending, but somewhere, I am not sure where, surely by this afternoon, I realized that I was no longer pretending. I realized more than anything, to love and serve men, and to please them wholly and selflessly, as a slave her masters."
I then, gently, to the fury of Flaminius, took her, as she gasped, and clutched, and thanked me.
"You yield well," I told her.
"Hateful slut!" cried Flaminius. "Despicable slave!"
"I am a girl on a chain," she smiled. "Is it not appropriate that I so yield?"
"It is," I said.
"And if I did not yield well," she asked, "would you whip me, or have your menials do so?"
"Under certain circumstances, and in certain contexts," I said, "of course."
"You have taught me much," she said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"You know you have spoiled me forever for freedom," she said.
"Oh?" I said.
"I know wan my collar," she said. "I love it. I want to serve, and love. It is what I am."
"You re a female," I said.
"yes, Master," she said. "But even did I not desire it, men would see to it that I know served choicelessly, and with perfection, would they not?"