“Who can come and go thusly amongst us?” said the officer, in fury.
“Who knows?” said one of the soldiers.
The officer strode to the kneeling, bound prisoners. “Who?” he said. “Who?”
“A warrior, perhaps,” said Portus Canio.
“Let us withdraw,” said one of the soldiers.
The officer returned to the center of the camp, near the wagon, near the place where a woman, or, better, a girl, had been subjected to diverse usages suitable for one such as she, one who was slave.
“Remove the gag from his mouth,” said the officer.
A dagger was thrust rudely behind the outer binding of the gag, and slashed it away. A streak of blood was then at the side of the jaw. The soldier then, with the tip of the dagger, poked through the wadding, and forced it out. The man began to choke, and then babble pathetically. “Sleen,” he said. “Sleen!”
“Prairie sleen,” said a soldier.
“He was a fool to leave the camp,” said another.
“I do not like it,” said another soldier. “Sleen will follow the scent. He will have brought sleen to the vicinity of the camp.”
“They may have been about in any event,” said one of the soldiers. “We saw two in the vicinity, some pasangs away, whilst we were in flight.”
“Yes,” said another soldier.
“They may have caught the scent of the gray sleen, the hunting sleen,” said another, “and surmised them to be tracking, and then followed, for days, hoping to share the kill.”
“Possibly,” said the officer.
“Let us take him out into the grass, and kill him there,” said a soldier. “If he has sleen on his tracks, that should satisfy them.”
“No,” begged the spokesman. “No!”
“Who did this to you?” asked the officer.
“I do not know,” whined the spokesman. “I was struck in the darkness.”
“He is well thonged,” said a soldier.
“Bound by a warrior,” said one.
“Or a slaver,” said another.
Ellen shuddered. Goreans, of all castes, are skilled at thonging, braceleting, binding and such. That is to be expected in a natural society, a society in which a prized and essential ingredient is female slavery, a society in which it is an accepted, respected, unquestioned, honored tradition, an institution sanctioned in both custom and law. Even boys are taught, under the tutelage of their fathers, how to bind female slaves, hand and foot. They are also trained in gagging and blindfolding, two useful devices for controlling and training slaves.
“Get some food,” said the officer. “Feed the prisoners, and the slave, as well. We trek at dawn.”
“Sir!” called Portus Canio.
The officer went to stand before him.
“With all due respect, sir,” said Portus Canio, “if you would save yourself, and your men, I would free us, and take your leave. I do not think those outside the camp are greatly interested in your blood.”
“I am thinking of having all of you killed,” said the officer, “all except the slave, who would make a nice gift for some ranking officer.”
“I want her,” said Tersius Major.
“To be sure,” said the officer, “perhaps we will merely auction her off — sell her naked from a slave block in Cos.”
“I want her!” said Tersius Major.
“Be silent,” said the officer.
“If you slay us,” said Portus Canio, “I do not think you will reach Brundisium alive.”
“Am I to return empty-handed?” asked the officer. “The purloined gold, the fees for mercenary cohorts, is presumably gone by now. Now you would have me return without even prisoners for interrogation?”
“For torture, you mean,” said Portus Canio.
“The testimony of slaves is commonly taken under torture,” said the officer.
“We are not slaves,” said Portus Canio.
“That can be changed.”
“Torture will not obtain the truth for you, only what you want to hear.”
“You do not know the truth?”
“None of us do, now,” said Portus Canio.
“I would take something back with me,” said the officer.
“I do not know what it could be,” said Portus Canio.
“Have those outside the camp an interest in your colleagues?” asked the officer.
“I do not think so,” said Portus Canio. “And they are not our colleagues. They pursued us. I think they sought gold. Too, they wished, apparently, to obtain the slave, and kill her. I think they would have slain us, as well. I am not clear as to their motivations. There is more here than I clearly understand. Tension stood between us. We stood on the brink of war. You arrived. You attacked. We fought together, thrown side by side, unwilling, unexpected allies.”
“They had forbidden weapons,” said the officer.
“Only forbidden,” said Tersius Major, “because the Priest-Kings would keep such things for themselves.”
“If that is their will, then it is their will,” said the officer. Then he regarded Mirus. “Who are you, and what is your business?”
“I am a merchant of Ar,” said Mirus, “dealing in various commodities, including slaves.”
“An urt of Ar,” said the officer.
“No,” said Selius Arconious, bound at the wheel. “He may reside in Ar, but he is not of Ar. He has no Home Stone.”
He is jealous, thought Ellen.
“I see,” said the officer. “Then he is not even an urt of Ar?”
“No,” said Selius Arconious. He cast a look at Mirus. Mirus might have been powerful, and rich, but the look directed upon him, though that of a mere tarnster, was one of superiority, of condescension, the look that one with a Home Stone might bestow upon one not so favored.
Surely he hates Mirus, thought Ellen. I think he is jealous of him. Can that be because of me? Could he be jealous because of a mere slave? What are his feelings toward me? He hates me! And I hate him! I must hate him! But he cannot be jealous. How could one be jealous of me? I am a mere slave!
The officer threw a look at the sleenmaster, who looked away.
“There are mysteries here, forbidden weapons, and such,” said the officer.
Portus Canio shrugged. He knew as little of such things as the Cosians.
“Beware the Priest-Kings,” whispered a soldier.
“I think I know one who is voluble,” said the officer, “one who might be persuaded to speak.”
Kardok lifted his large, shaggy head.
He uttered a tiny sound, scarcely audible.
His two compeers, scarcely seeming to move, joined him.
The officer turned about, angrily, and returned to where the spokesman, thonged, had been put on the grass. “Reinforce the watch,” said the officer. Then he, several of his men about him, looked down at the spokesman. “Kneel the urt!” he said. The spokesman, still helplessly bound, was put to his knees.
Kardok and his two compeers were now scarcely noticed. They were curled together, as she had seen them before, as though for warmth, a mass of heat and fur, innocent domestic animals, harmless trained beasts, gentle, massive, slothful creatures who might, prodded into movement by a ribboned wand, delight children at the fairs. It seemed like a single, somnolent mountain of fur. Ellen knew it was alive. She could sense its breathing. It seemed almost unnaturally still. It was not far away. Perhaps it was asleep. But, no, Ellen did not think so. The eyes of Kardok were open.
“There are two prairie sleen beyond the perimeter!” called a soldier, from several yards away.
“I was followed by sleen, two sleen,” said the spokesman. “I was running, through the night. I saw them. They stayed with me, some yards away, they drew closer, silently. I ran. I was struck. I lost consciousness!”
“The tarsk drew them here!” said a soldier, irritably.
“They may have been with us on the march,” said Mirus. “I may have seen one of them once. I am not sure. Sometimes we saw spoor.”