"Beautiful!" cried a man.
The keeper then, with his coiled whip, in two expansive gestures, one to port, one to starboard, indicated, and called attention to, the lineaments of the figures of the two lovely slaves. "Can you not guess?" he asked the fellow who had asked the question.
"Yes!" said the fellow.
"Are they not worthy to be at the prow?" asked the keeper.
"They are!" called out more than one man. And they were worthy not only because of the beauty of their figures, so well displayed, but because of their facial beauty as well.
I saw a slave girl in her skimpy tunic, scarcely a rag on her, nuzzling a fellow, rubbing her face and head against his left shoulder. She was trying to distract him from the suspended slaves. She was urging a consideration of her own not inconsiderable charms upon his attention.
"But perhaps, too, there is another reason!" hinted the keeper.
"Oh?" asked his questioner.
"This one was call "Publia, " said the keeper, "and this one "Claudia. " As he said these names, he reached out, and, in turn, Publia first, flicked each of them with the whip. At this touch, even as light and playful as it was, each of them recoiled in dread. Both had now felt the whip at one time or another, indeed, Claudia only a moment ago. There was more laughter. "They were both free women of Ar's Station," continued the keeper. "Publia dressed in such a way that her caste, that of the Merchants, would be concealed."
A Cosian merchant in the crowd cried out in anger.
"And that none would know she was wealthy!" said the keeper.
"She is not wealthy now!" cried a man.
"Let her now serve the wealthy!" called out a well-dressed fellow.
"Or serve a master of low caste," called out a fellow in the garb of the metal workers, "with the same or greater perfections than would be required of her in a high house!" I smiled. A great deal, indeed, is expected in low-caste domiciles of slaves who were formerly of high caste. To be sure, they no longer have caste then, of any sort. Even the lowest of castes is then undreamt-of heights above them, for in such houses they are only animals.
"She was determined to survive the fall of Ar's Station, whatever might prove to be the fate of her sisters in the city," said the keeper.
There were cries of anger.
"Thus, by such means as provocative dress and habiliments, baring even her calves, hoping then to be taken for a lowly, beautiful, meaningless maid, by even refusing to cut her hair on behalf of the city's needs, an act by means of which she hoped to appear more attractive to strong men, more attractive than might her sheared sisters, and a lack which, incidentally, as you can see, has been made up upon her, and by carrying gold with her, not shared with her sisters, with which she hoped to bribe captors to spare her for a nose ring and cord, she gave great attention to the readying of herself for a Cosian master." There was much laughter.
"And thus," said the keeper, lifting the whip, "we think it is only appropriate that her planning not have gone for naught. It is to a Cosian, some Cosian, that she will be sold!"
Men, hearing this, slapped their thighs with pleasure. Slave girls, too, laughed.
"I am a Cosian!" called out a fellow. He, to be sure, did not wear the habiliments of Cos.
"Perhaps, then," said the keeper, "yours will be the collar she will wear!" "Perhaps," he laughed.
"And this one," said the keeper, indicating Claudia, "betrayed her compatriots, declared for Cos and took Cosian gold for treason!"
"But she is a slave now?" called a man.
"Yes," said he keeper.
"Traitress!" cried a fellow, angrily, one in the habiliments of Cos. Claudia looked wildly at the keeper. He nodded. He would permit her to speak. "I regret what I did!" cried Claudia. "And I am only a slave now! Please have mercy on a slave!"
"She, too," said the keeper, "it to be sold to a Cosian."
"Traitress!" cried a Cosian. "Traitress!" cried another.
"perhaps I will buy you!" cried another. "The whips in my house lash hard!" "I will try to be pleasing, Master!" she wept.
It was very hard to hear now. The drums and pipes aboard the Tais were sounding. There was other music, too, here and there, from the piers, greeting other ships. There was much shouting, and calling, and raillery, between the piers and ships.
Aemilianus, pausing now and then to wave to the crowd, and partly supported by Surilius, and most of those with him were conducted back from the bow deck. Calliodorus, I suspected, had now left the stern castle and was awaiting his friend, Aemilianus, amidships. Aemilianus, who had commanded at Ar's Station, it seemed, would be the first to disembark. I, and some others, including the young warrior, Marcus, remained where we were. In a few moments, then, to drums and pipes, and cheers, I saw Aemilianus, unsupported, but obviously weak, make his own way down the gangplank. Behind him were Calliodorus and Surilius. Aemilianus and Calliodorus, and other officers, were embraced by several fellows wearing medallions of office at the foot of the gangplank.
Following this official party, so to speak, the refugees of Ar's Station disembarked, a few clutching tiny bundles containing meager belongings, and some of their other belongings following timidly, on their own bare feet. Much of the crowd, in a few Ehn, then, had followed the procession of officials and officers, and refugees, and properties, from the wharf. Oars were inboard, stowed. Oarsmen and sailors now, save for a watch, weapons and sea bags over their shoulders, entering upon their leaves, and other fellows, their service now discharged, passed down the gangplank. Reunions were common and often demonstrative, those with relatives and friends, those of companions, those of masters with eager, scantily clad, loving slaves. Much the same sort of thing was occurring elsewhere, at other piers.
"It was a good voyage," said the keeper, reaching out with a staff and hook to draw Publia, by the chain from which her harness was suspended, close to the rail.
"Yes," I said.
When Publia had been drawn closer to the rail two other fellows reached out and pulled her to the bow deck where they knelt her, in the shackles, in the harness, still attached to the chain. In a moment he, and the others, similarly, had retrieved Claudia and she, too, knelt on the bow deck.
"I gather," said the keeper, "that you have had some relationship, or something to do, with these two slaves.
"Yes," I said.
"Slaves," said the keeper.
"Yes, Master," said Publia.
"Yes, Master," said Claudia.
"You may bid him farewell," said the keeper, "in a manner suitable for slaves." "I wish you well, Master," said Publia, humbly, kneeling before me in her shackles and harness, putting down her head, kissing my feet.
"I wish you well, slave," I said.
Claudia then, too, as had Publia, was kneeling before me. She, too, put down her head. "I, too, wish you well, Master," she said. She then softly, delicately, kissed my feet.
"I wish you well, slave," I said.
The young warrior, Marcus, was not looking toward the piers, or the town, ascending from the harbor. His attentions seemed to be outward, and back, toward the entrance of the harbor.
I looked back to the pier. Here and there, lingering, some four or five of them, were slave girls.
The keeper was now crouching by Publia. He freed her wrist shackles from the chain and then her wrists from the shackles. He then pulled her small wrists behind her back and locked them there, in slave bracelets. He then, similarly, removed her ankle shackles from the chain and then freed her ankles from the shackles themselves. He then removed her harness. He similarly handled Claudia.
"You do not seem eager to see Port Cos," I said to the young warrior. "Where," asked he, "do you think the northern forces of Ar are?" "South of the river," I said, "back, to the east, somewhere."