“Who were they?” asked Fel Doron.
The dark-haired man shrugged. “Brigands,” he said.
“It was clever of you to publicly purchase this slave, with Cosian gold,” said one of the men about, indicating Ellen, who remained immobile, tense. “Thus, the camp will be looking for a tarnster.”
“Has Tersius Major, the traitor, been apprehended?” asked a man.
“He is in custody,” said the red-haired man. “He will be clad as Selius Arconious, gagged, tied in the saddle of a tarn and set aflight.”
“That will provide the incident needed to begin the disruption of the camp,” said one of the men.
“I would prefer to cut his throat,” said Portus Canio.
“If he can turn his head about and squirm a little that will lend plausibility to the diversion,” said a man.
“Perhaps you can cut his throat later,” said Fel Doron, slapping Portus Canio jovially on the shoulder, and Portus Canio grinned, and snorted in disgust.
“Are the wagons ready?” asked Selius Arconious.
“They are in place,” said a man. “Tarns will be released later and put aflight, and thus pursuit will presumably be directed to the skies, which Cos controls.”
“Then,” said a man, “we will disperse with the hundreds of others, who will break camp tomorrow.”
“The Cosian forces here will presumably march on Ar, to reinforce the occupation, and prevent mutiny,” said another.
“Is it true,” asked Selius Arconious, of the red-haired man, “that Marlenus has been found near Ar?”
“It seems so,” said the red-haired man. “He was discerned by a slave, who had tended him while he was imprisoned in Treve. It seems he escaped and made his way toward Ar, but somehow he seems unaware of the political realities in the city, and neither to understand nor know his true self.”
“We must regain him,” said a man. “He is needed as a symbol of resistance, as a rallying point.”
“Without him, how can Ar be restored?” asked another.
“He is needed to give the people courage, to ignite them, to rouse them to war, to cast out the Cosian sleen and their allies!”
“We need Marlenus of Ar!” exclaimed another. “He is the leader, the Ubar! None can stand against him!”
“Without him, what hope is there?” asked a man.
“He must lead us!” said another.
“Down with Talena, the traitress Ubara!” hissed a man.
“Our vengeance on her will be sweet,” said a man, grimly.
Ellen shuddered at the tones of the voices she heard.
“Death to the traitress!” said a man. “Death to the Ubara!”
“She shall know the penalties for betraying the Home Stone, those to be suitably inflicted upon a traitorous free person,” said a man.
“Perhaps she is not a free person,” said the red-haired man. “Perhaps she is only someone’s slave.”
“Absurd,” said a man.
“She is Ubara,” said another.
“Perhaps she who sits upon the throne of Ar,” said the red-haired man, thoughtfully, smiling, “is only a slave.”
“How would she dare?” asked a man.
“Let her fear then to be unmasked,” said another, softly.
“Yes,” said the red-haired man, thoughtfully. “Let her fear to be unmasked.”
“What would be the penalties for a slave, pretending to be a Ubara,” asked a man.
“It is difficult to conjecture,” said a fellow.
“I would not wish to be she,” said another.
Again Ellen shuddered.
“Is there to be a change of the guard here?” asked the dark-haired man of Portus Canio.
“Not until morning,” said a man.
“Good,” said the dark-haired man. “That will give us time.”
“Have garments been brought for the former prisoners?” asked the red-haired man.
“Yes,” said a fellow, “a variety of such.”
“Have them distributed,” said the red-haired man.
The fellow to whom he spoke left the area.
Ellen, from her knees, looked up to Selius Arconious. “May I speak, Master?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Did you purchase me,” she asked, “as only part of a plan?”
“Do you think you are important?” he asked.
“No, Master,” she said. “Master.”
“Yes?” said he.
“Did you not want me, just a little, if only to beat and whip me?”
“Think,” said he, “stupid little slut.”
“Master?” she asked.
“I could have bid with the same effect, with no compromise to a plan, upon hundreds of other women,” he said.
“Yes, Master!” breathed Ellen, kneeling before him, suddenly again helplessly alive in her belly. She had suspected this earlier, of course, but she had wished to hear it from his lips, those of her master.
“Things fell nicely into place,” he said. “I purchased a worthless slave with a plenitude of Cosian gold, thus felicitously insulting the state of Cos. I arranged matters so that suspicion would fall upon a tarnster, as soon as the news of the theft of Cosian gold would reach the camp. This will help to create a useful diversion. And I obtained a cuddly slut, one who was once troublesome, but one who will now be well advised to learn to serve me zealously, with detailed, abject perfection.”
“You wanted to own me?” asked Ellen, happily.
“Yes,” said he, angrily, “meaningless slut. I have wanted to own you since the first time I laid eyes upon you. I do not know why. Surely there is no good reason for this aberration on my part. I am sure it is irrational. But ever since I first saw you I wanted to own you. I wanted you in my collar, and that is now where you are.”
“Yes, my master!” breathed Ellen.
“Have you not overlooked something?” asked Portus Canio, grinning.
“What?” asked Selius Arconious.
“Let us consider the matter,” said Portus Canio. “She was taken from me by confiscation in Ar,” he said.
“Yes?” said Selius Arconious, warily.
“Now I surely acknowledge that the confiscation was within the letter of the law, given the current sorry state of Ar and the ordinances of the occupation; and I acknowledge further that she has been out of my hands for more than the number of days which, in Merchant Law, legitimate her seizure and claiming by another, and I recognize, further, of course, that she has passed through one or more hands in this time, as his or their slave, and that she was honestly purchased in open auction, in good faith, from her actual and completely legitimate owner, the state of Cos.”
“You see then,” said Selius Arconious, “that you no longer have any claim to her.”
“Of course not,” said Portus Canio. “That is clear. On the other hand, we do share a Home Stone.”
“Very well,” said Selius Arconious. “She is yours. I give her to you.”
“Master!” protested Ellen. Then she swiftly put down her head. “Forgive me, Masters,” she said.
“But,” said Portus Canio, “I might be willing to sell her to you.”
Ellen lifted her head, hopefully.
“How much?” asked Selius Arconious. “Six gold pieces? I paid five.”
“What was the highest bid in silver for her?” asked Portus.
“Twenty,” said Selius.
“Very well, I will ask twenty-one, in the coin of Ar.”
“But that is my own money!” protested Selius.
“That is my price,” said Portus.
“You should have left him in the chains of Cos,” smiled Fel Doron.
“She is pretty, but she is not worth that much,” said a man.
Slowly, as Ellen watched, delighted, Selius Arconious, angrily, reluctantly, removing them one by one from his purse, placed twenty-one silver tarsks, of Ar, in the hands of Portus Canio.
Portus Canio looked down at Ellen. “You see, little vulo,” he said, “you are worth that much.”