"You have led us a merry chase," cried Marcus, angrily, looking over his shoulder. "Why did you not stay in the camp? How were we supposed to know where to find you?" He was tearing open the tunic of Octantius, and then he jerked the gold, on its strings, from Octantius' neck. "Here!" said Marcus, throwing the gold to a large fellow, his face muchly concealed in a wide-scarf, with him. "Here is your gold!"
"Marcus!" I cried.
"You should have stayed in the camp!" said Marcus, angrily.
"What have you done?" I asked.
"I hired mercenaries," said he. "I went to the Jeweled Whip last night and made the arrangements. Things would have gone quite smoothly if you had stayed where you were supposed to be."
"You had no gold to hire mercenaries," I said.
"This fellow did," said Marcus, jerking a thumb back at Octantius who was still standing there, his hands over his head. "So I used his gold."
"My friend," I said.
"We might never have found you," said he, "had we not heard rumors of a berserk lunatic running about the slave camp killing innocent folk. Naturally I assumed it must be you."
"Of course," I said.
"So we hurried over here."
"How many are there?" I asked.
"A hundred, or better," said Marcus. "And I assure you these sleen do not come cheap."
I observed Octantius and his men being tied. Also I noted that their purses were being emptied.
"We will take these fellows a few pasangs from Brundisium," said the leader of the mercenaries, "strip them and set them loose."
"My thanks," said I, and my thanks were heartfelt.
"Do not thank them," said Marcus. "They are sleen for hire. It is all in the contract."
"Do you know with whom you are dealing?" I asked Marcus.
"He is dealing with Edgar, of Tarnwald," said the leader of the mercenaries.
"Of course," I said.
"The mercenary sleen does not come cheap," said Marcus. He had a regular's disdain for his mercenary counterpart. He had not yet learned to distinguish between mercenary and mercenary. That has been the downfall of several commanders of regular troops.
"Why did you not let me know you were here?" I asked.
"We weren't here," said Marcus. "We just arrived."
I swallowed, hard.
"You should have stayed in our camp," said Marcus.
"Apparently," I said.
I went to Octantius who now had his hands tied behind his back. A rope was on his neck. He and his men were to be placed in throat coffle.
"I take it," said Octantius, "that we are now to be taken out and killed."
"You are a brave man," I said.
"It is easy to be brave when one has no hope," he said.
"I am sorry I spoke to you as I did earlier."
"Your ruse was transparent," he said. "I took no offense."
"You are not to be killed," I said. "You are to be taken away from here, and released."
He looked at me, startled.
"Tomorrow," I said, "recollect honor."
He looked at me, and then he was thrust several yards toward the gate, to be held there as more of his men were being added to the coffle.
The leader of the mercenaries hefted the bag of gold in his hand. He looked at Marcus. "You did not tell us that you did not have the gold when you hired us," he said.
"I had prospects of obtaining it," said Marcus.
"What if it had not been here?" asked the mercenary.
"Then," said Marcus, "I would have sold my life dearly."
"I see," said the mercenary.
I was pleased to see that Marcus had formulated a plan for that contingency.
"Well," said Marcus to the mercenary, "you have your gold. You may now be on your way."
"Marcus," I whispered, "please."
The mercenary then went to where Ina lay in the dirt, in the center of what had been the circle. She was still unconscious. "So this is the little traitress and slave," he said. He turned her to her belly with his foot. "Not bad," he said. He then, again with his foot, turned her to her back. "Good slave curves," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Ar," I said.
"It would be dangerous to take this slave there," he said.
"I have no intention of taking her there," I smiled.
"Has she been taught anything of the collar?" he asked.
"A little," I said.
"Such as she should learn quickly and well," he said.
"I have every confidence that she will do so," I said.
"She will, or die," he said.
"Perhaps then," I said, "my camp, in an Ahn?"
"I shall sent Mincon," he said.
"Good," I said.
"You will have to buy her if you want her," said Marcus.
"What a mercenary fellow," said the leader of the mercenaries. He then, with a laugh, tossed the bag of gold to Marcus.
Marcus caught the gold against his chest, and clung to it, astonished.
"I wish you well," said the mercenary captain to me.
"I wish you well, too," I said.
The mercenary captain then turned to Marcus. "I wish you well, too," said he, "my young friend."
"I do not understand," said Marcus.
"That is because you are not a mercenary," said the captain.
"I do not understand," said Marcus.
"We have already received our pay," he said.
"But this is the gold," said Marcus.
"Not all pay is gold," he said.
"My thanks," I said to the mercenary.
"It is nothing," he said.
He turned to leave, but then turned back. "I heard a fellow in the crowd, a few moments ago, tell someone that you had said Saphronicus was dead."
"Yes," I said.
"How did you know that?" he asked.
"I do not know it," I said. "I made it up, hoping to delay matters."
"Interesting," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because," he said, "Saphronicus is dead."
"How would you know this?" I asked.
"I have an agent," he said, "in the camp of Ar at Holmesk."
"How did it happen?" I asked.
"That seems obscure," he said. "There are many reports, which conflict with one another."
He then turned and, with a swirl of his cloak, left the concourse.
"I wish you well," called Marcus, after him, puzzled.
"You are rich," I said to Marcus.
"The dark-haired slave!" he cried. "I can afford her, she at the wagon!"
He then, suddenly, turned about, and ran from the concourse. I then went and crouched beside Ina I shook her, lightly. "Am I alive?" she asked.
"It would seem so," I said.
"Where have they gone?" she asked.
"They have been taken away," I said.
"But will they return?" she asked.
"I do not think so," I said. "The gold is gone."
"But there will be more?" she said.
"I am not sure," I said. "I have heard that Saphronicus is dead."
"Truly dead?" she said.
"I think so," I said.
"Then I am safe?" she asked.
"I do not know," I said.
"What is to be done with me?" she asked.
"While you were unconscious," I said, "someone found your slave curves of interest."
"My "slave curves"!" she said, in horror, putting her knees together, and covering her breasts with her hands.
"Yes," I said, "and open your knees, and put your hands down, on your thighs."
She obeyed.
"What now is to be done with me?" she asked.
"Come with me," I said, going back into the camp.
In a bit I knelt her before a horizontal bar, about a yard above the dirt, and tied her wrists to it.