“Be quiet,” said a fellow. “He is of the honestori.”
Tuvo Ausonius supposed that such a woman might make an acceptable domestic servant.
Certainly some sames kept such servants, who lived in. They would have to be suitably garbed, of course, in same wear. And, of course, he would not have to so much as lay a hand on one. He knew certain sames who kept such servants. Actually, as everyone knew, they were purchased slaves, as free women on Miton, sames, at least those who were well-to-do, did not perform domestic labors. Such were beneath them. Tuvo Ausonius had sometimes wondered what went on in such domiciles, when the doors were closed, and the shades drawn. Doubtless nothing. But still one wondered. And he, if he were to keep such a servant, so to speak, would surely not have to lay a hand on her.
Then he put such terrible thoughts from his mind, for he was a same.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to have permitted himself to look upon her at his feet, in scarlet silk.
Then he reminded himself, again, sternly, that he was a same.
The top button on her jacket had been undone, lasciviously baring her neck.
That neck was now muchly more bared, and wore a leash.
She had leaned toward him, as he had occupied his seat in the vessel.
Now she wore brief canvas, buckled tightly upon her beauty.
She had removed her head covering in the tiny galley, revealing her hair. Now it was loose, abundant, distraught, marvelous about her shoulders, over her leash, and it might be considered by anyone, as much as though she were a slave.
How right it was that she should be so served!
What a wicked woman she was!
How richly such as she merited punishment!
He was pleased to have arranged it.
The officer who held her leash drew it taut. She looked up at him, frightened She tried to draw back.
It was at this moment that three figures, coming down the street, came to the edge of the throng. This group, or at least two personages of it, were sufficiently unusual or imposing, at least for the district, that the crowd, rather naturally, those who were aware of them, parted, that they might pass. One wore the uniform of an officer in the imperial navy; the other was a blond, blue-eyed giant of a man, clad in skins; the third figure was unimportant as she was a stripped, branded slave. Her hair had been cut short, apparently carelessly and brutally, and her wrists were bound together, behind her back.
“Way, way, please,” said the officer.
“Make way!” said the officer of the city, seeing the naval officer.
“Make way!” said the other officer, as well, he who held the girl’s leash.
“Thank you, my friends,” said the naval officer.
He had removed the purple cords from his left shoulder, in order to attract less attention, in order to remain, in effect, incognito in the streets. Purple was, of course, the color of the patricians, and the three cords would have marked him, for those who understood such things, as being of the highest of ranks, of the highest of bloods, as high as that of the imperial house itself.
“Oh!” said the slave, who was pressing closely behind the officer and the fellow clad in skins, as they made their way through the small crowd.
The officer, and the fellow clad in skins, turned about.
“I was touched! I was touched!” said the slave. She tried to pull her hands apart, but they were tied well, behind her back.
The fellow clad in skins surveyed the crowd behind the slave. Some men stepped back, not meeting his eyes.
“You!” said the blue-eyed giant. “Was it you who touched the slave?”
“No!” said a man.
“You?” he inquired of another.
“No, not I,” said the fellow addressed.
“Do not be angry, fellow,” said one of the officers of the city.
“You cannot expect to take her through the streets with bared flanks and not have her touched,” said a man.
“Not a beauty like that,” said another.
The slave straightened at this, startled, suddenly elated. How pleased she was that she had been found appealing. Surely such a gratification had never been hers as a free woman, to have been so openly, so candidly, commented upon.
But still, surely, they had had no right to touch her as they had. She was not theirs!
“I am not angry,” said the blue-eyed giant.
“She is attractive,” pointed out another man.
“Is she yours?” asked a man.
“Yes,” said the giant.
“Yes,” said the slave. “It is to him that I belong! I am his!”
Men regarded her, surprised.
“It was he, Master!” said the slave, indicating a fellow in the crowd. “He it was! I am sure of it!”
“Was it you?” asked the giant.
“You have her in the streets, slave naked,” said one of the officers of the city. “You are pressing through a crowd. You could not expect anything other, surely, if there are men here.”
Some of the men looked at Tuvo Ausonius, in amusement. Tuvo Ausonius reddened in anger.
“Was it you?” asked the giant, repeating his question to the fellow who had been indicated by the slave.
“Yes,” said the fellow. “It was I.”
“Yes, yes, it was he!” said the slave. “Now you will suffer!” she said to him.
“Go to him,” said the giant.
“Master?” she asked.
“Now,” said the giant.
She went to stand near the fellow.
The giant waved his hand toward her.
“Master!” protested the slave.
“My thanks!” said the fellow.
He took her firmly by the arm.
“Oh!” cried the slave.
In a few moments, at another gesture from the giant, the fellow desisted, and the slave, permitted to leave his vicinity, hurried to her master and, scarlet, and trembling, wide-eyed, knelt against his leg, pressing herself against it.
“Oh, Master,” she moaned.
As she knelt she was no more than a yard or two from, and on the same level as, the prisoner, Sesella Gardener, the stewardess, kneeling, buckled in canvas and leashed, in the keeping of one of the officers of the city.
“Next time,” said the giant to the man, “request my permission. I think you will find that I am inclined to be generous.”
“My apologies!” said the man.
“Surely you must complete what he has begun!” begged the slave of her master.
“What is her name?” asked a man.
“I have not yet named her,” said the giant. “She does not yet have a name.”
“Will you name her?” asked a man.
“I do not know,” said the giant. “I have not yet decided.”
She looked up at her master, frightened.
Some slaves are kept without names, of course, but normally they are given a name, by the master’s will, as a dog might be, that they may be conveniently summoned and referred to.
And even such a name is often precious to a slave, even though it is only a slave name.
“She seems new to her condition,” said a man.
“It has been a matter of less than an hour,” said the naval officer.
“Doubtless she will learn quickly,” said a man.
“That is my expectation,” said the naval officer.
“She had better!” said a man.
“Yes,” said another.
There was laughter.
“Master!” begged the slave.
“Slave, slave!” hissed Sesella Gardener. “How disgusting you are!”
The slave looked at her, wonderingly. “Are we not sisters?” she asked. “Pity me!”
“I am a free woman,” said Sesella Gardener. “You are only a slut of a slave!”
“Master,” whimpered the slave, looking up at the giant, “what you permitted him to do to me!”