“How many are there?” asked a soldier.
“Two,” said one of the soldiers.
“We do not know,” said another. “Others, local sleen, might gather in.”
“Yes,” said another, looking about.
“There is little to fear if we are armed, and alert,” said the officer.
“They are closer now than is common, to a camp,” said one of the soldiers, uneasily.
Needless to say, the common prey of the wild sleen is not the human being, but the human being is not safe from them. He lies within their prey range. Indeed, they will attack animals larger than humans, kaiila, wild bosk, and such.
The officer then directed his attention to the spokesman. “You do not know who struck you, or how many?” he asked.
“No,” said the spokesman.
“It would be easy to put you outside the camp,” said the officer.
“Do not do so!” begged the spokesman.
“We are civilized,” said the officer. “We could mercifully untie you, and then turn you out with our best wishes for your health and safety.”
“Let me stay! Protect me!” said the spokesman.
“And how will you buy your rent space within the camp?”
“I will speak! I know things! Things on which hang the fate of worlds! I can speak of gold beyond that which you sought! Gold compared to which that is a paltry sum! I can speak of weapons which can devastate cities in a moment, leaving no more than poisonous ashes! I can make Cos the mistress of Gor, and you the master of Cos!”
“You are mad,” said the officer.
“No! No!” said the spokesman. “Ask those who were with me, ask them!”
“He is mad,” said Mirus.
“He is mad,” said the sleenmaster.
The slave noted that Mirus cast a glance to one side, to a thick patch of heavy grass. She turned, as she could, but saw nothing there. Then she forgot, for the time, this seemingly puzzling inadvertence or inattention on his part.
“Speak,” said the officer.
“Secure the beasts!” said the spokesman.
The officer threw a hasty glance at the three beasts, seemingly no more than a somnolent mound of fur.
“Do not be absurd,” said the officer.
“If you are finished with us,” said Portus Canio, “free us, and we will harness the tharlarion and move on, with the wagon.”
“I will keep the slave,” said the officer.
“Free us,” said Portus Canio.
“Kill them all!” cried Tersius Major, the pistol in hand.
“Consider the matter,” said Portus Canio. “If those in the grassland wished, several of you would now be dead. The great bow can strike from a distance. The camp was entered secretly last night. Your throats could have been cut. If you would return alive to Brundisium or see the coasts of Cos once more, release us. Within the walls of Ar we might be mortal enemies; here, in the grasslands, in this place, in this moment, we may be mere wayfarers, fallen in with one another, in the midst of a desolation.”
“Kill them all!” cried Tersius Major.
“But we have apprehended you,” said the officer.
“Perhaps,” said Portus Canio, “you never saw us.”
“I have lost men,” said the officer, angrily.
“Bandits,” said Portus Canio. “And did you not slay the entire band?”
The officer looked about, from man to man.
“I have never seen these men,” said a soldier.
“Nor I,” said another, looking out over the grasslands.
“Kill them all!” screamed Tersius Major.
“Free them,” said the officer. “And return their weapons to them.”
“No!” said Tersius Major.
“I will not risk my men,” said the officer.
The pistol then was leveled at the breast of the officer.
“Discard it,” said the officer. “Put it with the others, at the edge of the camp, while there is still time. You are living surely only with the sufferance of Priest-Kings.”
Mirus smiled.
“No, no!” said Tersius Major. Then he howled with anguish and lowered the pistol. But he made no effort to put the weapon with the others. Five such pistols, of six, the slave recalled, had been accounted for. In the pistol which Tersius Major held there was left, allegedly, one cartridge, and but one cartridge. The other weapon had doubtless been lost, somewhere, in the fray.
“That one,” said the officer, indicating Selius Arconious, bound at the wheel, “free from the wheel, but keep bound.”
“The slave?” asked one of the soldiers.
“Unhobble her,” said the officer. “Those in the grasslands will not be interested in mere domestic stock. She is a well-curved little thing, though somewhat young. She will look well on an auction block in Cos.”
“Please, no, Masters!” wept the slave. She cast a wild glance at Selius Arconious, who pulled angrily at his bonds, at the wheel.
The officer then climbed to the surface of the wagon and held up a spear, but with the point down.
In this fashion was a cessation of hostilities proposed.
It was impossible to know, of course, if this token was seen, or, if seen, accepted.
The heavy hobbles were removed from Ellen’s ankles and she was lifted to her feet, where she stood, for a moment unsteadily.
Her eyes met those of Selius Arconious. He was her master. Quickly, as naturally as the movement of a cloud, the bending of a stalk of grass, the fluttering of a leaf, she hurried to kneel before him and put her head down, and kissed his feet.
“Oh!” she cried in pain, yanked up and back, away from him, cruelly, by the hair, and thrown to her side in the grass, much where she had been before.
She looked up in terror at one of the soldiers.
“You belong to Cos, slut,” she was told.
Meanwhile Portus Canio, freed of his bonds, had risen awkwardly to his feet, rubbing his wrists. Fel Doron, and the third fellow, Loquatus, skilled with the crossbow, soon joined him. Mirus, the sleenmaster and their wounded fellow were left bound, as was the spokesman. Selius Arconious was freed from the wheel, but his wrists remained tied behind his back. He glared balefully at the officer, who paid him no attention. Some weapons, which had been those of Portus Canio and his fellows, were put on the grass, near the wagon. They did not yet arm themselves.
Selius Arconious, though freed from the wheel, continued to stand near it, angrily, bound.
Portus Canio regarded Tersius Major. “We shall find you,” he said. “We shall hunt you down, traitor to Ar.”
“I do not fear you,” said Tersius Major, lifting the pistol. “I am the equal of a Priest-King!”
Then Tersius Major turned to the officer. “You will take me with you to Brundisium,” he said.
“Only if you discard the forbidden weapon,” said the officer. “I will not risk my men.”
“Coward! Coward!” said Tersius Major. “There is no danger, no danger! You are a coward!”
“I am responsible for my men,” said the officer. “Else I might respond to you appropriately, in a different time, in a different place.”
“Coward!”
The officer turned to Portus Canio and his fellows, who were backing the tharlarion toward the wagon, to hitch it in place.
“I would keep the young fellow bound for a time,” he said, indicating Selius Arconious. “I do not think he will be able to follow us in the grasslands. But if he attempts to follow us, and finds us, and tries to regain this animal, our curvaceous little she-beast there on the grass, we will kill him.”
Ellen cast a wild glance at her master. She pulled at her braceleted wrists.
“Leash her,” said the officer.
“Stand,” said the soldier nearest Ellen, he who had drawn her away from the feet of her master, Selius Arconious.