I bent my ear very close to her lips.
"I am a slave," she whispered, frightened. She spoke extremely softly, in an almost inaudible whisper, like a soft breath at my ear, but there was no mistaking the words.
"You are a free woman," I reminded her, softly.
"No," she whispered. "I am a slave. I know I am a slave. My feelings!"
"Labienus knows who you are," I said to her.
"Then," she whispered, "it is the impaling spear for me!"
"No," I said. "He does not officially know who you are. He will not press the matter."
"But why?" she asked.
"He has his own reasons, I am sure," I said. "Too, you are not really his to deal with."
"Whose am I to deal with?" she asked.
"Mine," I said.
"Yours?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "You are mine, by capture."
"That relationship then," she said, looking up at me, wonderingly, "is fearfully profound."
"Among warriors, and men of honor," I said.
"Then I am truly yours," she said, "to do with as you please."
"In this situation," I said, "in law, as well as in fact."
She nodded.
"But I would watch my step if I were you," I said. "It would not do to have one of his men cut your throat."
She nodded again.
"What are you?" I asked.
"A mute rence girl," she said, softly.
"And an excellent use slut," I said.
"I am not so high as a use slut," she said. "I am only a slave."
I regarded her.
"Lady Ina is a slave," she said.
"You are a free woman," I said.
"Use me then," she said, "as whatever you take me to be."
"Does Lady Ina, the free woman, beg use?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "Lady Ina, the free woman, begs use, and as what she truly is, a slave."
I lifted aside the slave strip at her belly, and acceded, she moaning, to her request. Her responsiveness, even though she was a free woman, suggested that she might, in time, make an excellent, even a superb, slave.
Once, betwixt my usages of the captive, Ina, I looked back at Labienus. He now had the bowl of water resting upon his knees. I watched him mix salt with it, turning it into a brine. Then he immersed his hands in it. Two of the small branches which had been brought to him were now stripped of bark. It saddened me that his mind had broken.
Ina looked up at me, gratefully, wonderingly.
"You must rest," I told her.
To be sure, I, too, wished to rest. One must be alert for one's trek.
"When do we leave?" she asked.
"In a few Ahn," I said. "I will awaken you a little earlier, to darken your face and body, here and there, with mud from the marsh."
She looked up at me.
"It is a matter of camouflage," I said.
"Do with them what you wish," she said, "they are the face and body of a slave."
I then put her on her side, crossed her ankles, pulled them up, and, with the length of binding fiber descending from her bound wrists, tied them there.
She looked up at me, obviously desperate again, to speak. I bent close to her.
"The slave strips!" she whispered.
"Doubtless, if you struggle about, a bit," I said, "you will discover a way to adjust them."
She looked up at me, over her left shoulder.
I left her.
Labienus had now removed his hands from the brine and was addressing himself once more to removing bark from another of the small branches.
I looked back to Ina and saw that she had now struggled to her knees. In a moment she managed to adjust the slave strips. Then, carefully, she lowered herself back to the sand. The frontal strip was now well in place, lying between her raised knees. She looked at me, rather reproachfully. But why should I have helped her in this? It had to do, after all, not with my concerns, but with her own modesty. Too, one does not wish to set an inconvenient precedent, that one should have to be going about all the time, addressing oneself to such tasks. One might adjust a girl's slave strips for her, of course if one were preparing to present her to friends, or something. Even slaves girls, incidentally, are often concerned about their modesty, for example, as I have suggested, not wishing to be sent shopping naked, and so on, even though they are not entitled to it, and, indeed, by some masters, who hold to the strict interpretation of the saying "Modesty is not permitted to slave girls," it is not even permitted them. Most masters, however, understanding the saying more generously, as referring to strictures which may be imposed upon occasion, at the master's will, rather than strictures which must obtain constantly, regardless of his will, enjoy permitting a slave girl a certain amount of modesty. For example, this gives them more power over her, adding an additional dimension to discipline, and they may, of course, whenever they wish, for their pleasure, deny it to her, or remove it from her, as easily as slave silk may be jerked away. The saying "Modesty is not permitted to slave girls," is a saying then which is usually reserved for particular occasions, as, for example, if a girl might exhibit distress at being stripped for her sale, or, say, be tempted to balk at performing floor movements naked for business acquaintances of her master. This, too, incidentally, is the legal understanding of the saying, as any other interpretation would be inconsistent with the master's absolute ownership of the slave. If he could not permit her modesty, if he wished, for example, according her a slave tunic, his power would not have been absolute. The same power, of course, permits him to keep her naked, if he wishes. In all, and in brief, she is owned, completely.
She pursed her lips, timidly kissing at me.
I blew her a kiss in the Gorean fashion, brushing it to her with my fingers.
She looked at me, gratefully, and then wriggled down in the sand a little, getting comfortable, taking care not to dislodge that fragile, mockery of a shielding, the slave strip. She then looked up at the afternoon sky.
I smiled to myself. When she slept, or changed position, all her work would be undone, and she would be as helplessly and delightfully exposed as before. Women are often slept naked, incidentally, in their kennels. The masters sometimes come by in the night, with a lamp, to see how beautiful they are, the shadows of the bars on their lovely, sleeping bodies.
Before I slept I glanced once more at Labienus. He, now, was once again soaking his hands in the solution of brine.
29 We Camp in Secret; We Move in Silence
I held Ina by the upper arms, from behind. She also had rope about her waist, in the grip of a couple of fellows nearby, rather behind us.
"Splash a little more, softly," I said.
She kicked in the water. Where we were was about a yard deep, a few feet from a sand bar. It was early morning. We were tired from the night's trek. Some of the men on the bar were already preparing the camp for the day.
We had been with the men of Ar for some ten days now, moving generally south. Thrice in our trek had we heard the sound of the marsh jard, our agreed upon signal, warning us of danger. Twice it had been a tarnsman, outlined against one of the moons, far above. Once it had been a patrol of Cosians, on narrow flatboats. Each time we had lowered ourselves into the marsh, little but our eyes and mouth above the water. It was fortunate for the patrol of Cosians that they had not detected us, for otherwise they would not have returned to their base. In our camps during the day, we had twice heard the same signal, alerting us to the passage of someone, in both cases, rencers, going about their business, fishing, gathering rence.
On either side of us were two fellows, Plenius and Titus, with spears.
"A little more," I whispered to Ina.
She kicked a little more, softly.
We could see the black dorsal fin of the marsh shark about thirty to forty feet off, in the open water. It moved slowly about out there. Occasionally, too, we saw the tip of its sicklelike tail cut the water, and saw the water stirring about its body.
"It is coming in," said Plenius.
"Hold still," I said to Ina.
She had done this before. She knew what to expect. She remained very still.