"Her use is yours, whenever you wish," I said.
"My thanks, Warrior," said he.
"It might be well for you to avail yourself of her," I said.
"I think not," he said. "There is another matter more pressing to which I wish to give careful consideration."
"As you wish," I said. I did not understand what this other matter might be but, at the time, supposed it to have to do with our impending journey.
I turned to look at Ina. She lay on her side in the sand, terrified. The men had gathered about her, some crouching, looking down at her. She looked small and luscious, helplessly bound, in the sand. She looked about herself, from face to face, as she dared, then, again and again, looked quickly away. She could not help but note that the eyes of the men were eagerly and unabashedly feasting themselves upon what was apparently to them some vulnerable, delicious object of incredible desire, and that this object was she herself.
"Do not be afraid, rence girl," said Plenius.
She looked over to me, pleadingly, pathetically, the once-rich, once-powerful, once-haughty Lady Ina, of Ar, she who had been of the staff of Saphronicus, she who had been mistress of the purple barge, she who was confidante to, and observer for, Talena, once the daughter of Marlenus of Ar.
Plenius turned to regard me.
Ina looked at me, wildly. She might as well have been a slave girl, tethered to a stake for a squad's pleasure.
"You may untie her ankles," I informed Plenius, "then hand her about."
He turned back to the girl, bending to her ankles. The others, too, then crowded about her.
I heard her gasp, probably as her ankles were jerked apart, preparing her for usage.
She was a highly intelligent woman, was the lovely Lady Ina, and I did not doubt but what she would keep well within the character of a mute rence girl Surely better that than the impaling spear.
I heard her gasp again, startled.
I supposed that when she had entered the delta in the purple barge, she, a high lady of Ar, in her silks and jewels, had not expected to serve common soldiers in one of the familiar modalities of a lowly captive.
I heard her utter a sudden, inarticulate cry.
"Ah!" cried a fellow.
"I, I!" cried another fellow.
I heard her gasp, again, startled, and then, in a moment, utter another cry.
"Ai!" said a fellow.
It had doubtless been weeks since these fellows had had a woman. And the Lady Ina, even though she was not a slave, was yet a juicy pudding.
She began to sob, though whether with sorrow, confusion, protest, passion or excitement, it was difficult to tell.
In another moment or two she was in the arms of another fellow.
"I!" cried another. "I!"
"No, I!" cried another.
I feared they might fight for her, as might ravening sleen over the first piece of meat thrown to them in days.
Ina cried out, again seized, and was thrown back, again, into the sand.
I heard the sound of striking against her body, the subjection of it to the blows of a fellow's mastery and joy.
She was gasping.
I feared they might not be showing her sufficient respect. They did not know, of course, that she was the Lady Ina, but they would know, or believe, presumably, that she was a free woman. She was, for example, not branded. To be sure they would presumably accept her as a simple, lowly rence girl, and much had they suffered at the hands of rencers. There is a tendency, of course, to be stricter and crueler with women of the enemy than with others not so distinguished, making them in a sense stand proxy for the foe. It sometimes takes a new slave weeks, for example, to convince a master that she is no longer really a citizeness of a foreign state but now only an animal who belongs to him, one who solicits his indulgence, one who begs his kindness, and one who hopes to serve and please him, her master, as much or more than any similar animal which might be in his possession.
"She is hot!" said a fellow.
Ina made an inarticulate cry of protest.
"Yes!" said another.
Ina, as I caught sight of her, was shaking her head, negatively.
"Do not lie to us, rence slut!" snarled a man.
I heard her cuffed.
"Look," said a fellow.
Ina uttered a startled, warm, helpless little cry.
"See?" asked the fellow.
"Yes," said the other.
"She is hot all right," said a man.
"She is worthy of the iron," said a man.
"Yes," said another.
Now I heard Ina whimpering, and moaning. Labienus, for whatever reason, had rejected her.
"Aii!" cried a fellow.
I heard Ina handed to yet another fellow.
Then she was moaning again, her head back, her hair about, helpless in this new grasp.
"I am ready again!" said a fellow.
"Wait!" snarled a fellow.
I feared Ina might cry out in words, belying our posture of her muteness, but she did not do so.
"Hurry!" said a man.
Ina made a protesting noise, a begging noise, that he who gripped her take pity upon her and not too soon desist in his attentions.
"Ah!" cried the fellow in whose grasp she lay.
"I am next!" said a man.
"Give her to me!" said another.
Labienus, for whatever reason, had rejected her. To these fellows, however, she was a dream of pleasure.
"Superb!" said a fellow.
"Let us instruct her in how to move," said a man.
"She is not a slave," said a fellow.
"What does it matter?" asked another.
"Next you will want to teach her tongue work," said another.
"An excellent idea," said a man.
"Do you wish to learn tongue work, mute rence slut?" asked a man.
Ina made a frightened noise.
"Yes?" he asked.
Ina, terrified, whimpered once.
"Good," said the fellow.
Ina did not now, it seemed, have to fear dismissal, or rejection.
"Tarl, of Port Kar," said Labienus.
"I am here, Captain," I said.
"Are any others close about?" he asked.
"I do not think so close that they might overhear sort speech," I said.
"Too," smiled Labienus, "I gather they are occupied."
"It would seem so," I said.
Labienus did not look directly at me while he spoke. Rather he looked out over the marsh. He did not see anything, however, as he was blind. This was the result of the work of the sting flies, or, as the men of Ar are wont to call them, the needle flies. In their attacks he had insufficiently defended himself from their depredations which, too often, are toward the eyes, the surfaces of which are moist and reflect light. Most, of course, would shut or cover their eyes, perhaps with cloth or their hands or arms. The rencers use rence mats most commonly, or hoods made of rence, for these, screenlike, permit one to see out but are too small to admit the average sting fly. Had Labienus protected himself, and not tried, at all costs, to maintain his cognizance and command, I do not doubt but what he, like the others, could have prevented the flies, in numbers, from inflicting such injuries on himself. He must have been stung several times in, or about, the eyes. Labienus, in my opinion, was a fine, responsible, trustworthy officer. His faults in command, as I saw them, however, had been several. He had been too inflexible in his adherence to orders; he had had too great a confidence in the wisdom and integrity of his superiors; he had been too slow to detect the possibilities of betrayal and treason; he had not speedily extricated his command from a hopeless situation; and even on the level of squad tactics, by attempting to maintain cognizance and command in a situation in which it was impractical to do so, he had, in the long run, by sustaining grievous personal injury, jeopardized not only himself but the men who depended upon him. To be sure, many of these faults, as I thought of them, might, from another point of view, have been regarded as virtues. I suspected that it had not been an accident that Labienus had been in command of the vanguard. Saphronicus had probably wanted a simple, trusting, reliable, tenacious, indefatigable officer in that post. One who would continue to doggedly carry his command deeper and deeper into the delta, regardless of what might appear to be the hazards or untenabilities of the situation.