"Be of good cheer," I said. "Out of the delta you may even be permitted clothing, other than, say, a meager pair of slave strips."
"I might have been granted only one," she said.
"True," I said. I recalled Phoebe, the slim young maid of Cos whom I had taken with me, at her request, from the Crooked Tarn. I had put her in a single slave strip before I had turned her over to Ephialtes, the sutler, to hold for me. He might, by now, I supposed, be in the vicinity of Brundisium. Presumably the balance of Cos' northern forces, mostly mercenaries, would have retired to that city, for mustering out, or reassignment.
"But surely you are distressed," I said, "that you have been garmented as you have, in such a manner that you might at a distance, save for the collar, be mistaken for a thigh-stripped, bare-breasted slave."
"The delta is warm," she said, evasively. "The slave strips are comfortable. Too, it gives pleasure to the men, I think, that they see me in them."
"They give you pleasure, too," I said, "that you know how beautiful and exciting you are in them."
"Perhaps," she said, rising to her knees, modestly adjusting them. This she now did with her hands. When a girl's hands are bound behind her she customarily does this by movements of her hips and belly. To be sure, it might be to her advantage, in such a case, to make certain that men are not watching, lest she must then redo the work, again and again.
"I wonder if I am to be again clothed," she said.
"You are already clothed," I said.
"Other than slave strips!" she said.
"I would think so," I said.
"If I am given clothing," she said, "I wonder what sort of clothing it would be."
"I do not know," I said.
"I know what sort of clothing I would like," she said.
"The resplendent, many-colored robes of concealment?" I asked.
She lay on her stomach then, facing me, her elbows in the sand, her chin on her fists. She smiled. "I was thinking of something lighter, briefer, more comfortable," she said.
"Something less pretentious?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "And I might like something else, too."
"Jewelry?" I asked.
"Of sorts," she said. "Something I might wear on my neck."
"Jeweled necklaces," I suggested.
"I was thinking of something simpler," she said.
"And less pretentious?"
"Yes," she said. "And something else, something which I might wear on my thigh."
"A beauty enhancer?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "and a quite meaningful one."
"Are you serious?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Plenius, I understand," I said, "has been giving you lessons in tongue work."
"Yes," she said, "he has been very kind."
"Has he had to whip you?" I asked.
"No," she said. "May I show you some of the things I have learned?"
"Yes," I said.
She moved toward me, delicately. "Perhaps you will improve upon his instruction," she said.
"I would be inclined to doubt it," I said, "but it is true that I might have certain preferences. These can vary from fellow to fellow."
"Yes," she said, eagerly, "the individual captor is everything."
"Or master," I said.
"Yes," she whispered, "or master."
I then permitted the Lady Ina to exhibit for me certain of the results of her training, and these, too, I modified here and there, according to my own lights and tastes.
"Is my tongue work satisfactory?" she asked.
"It is excellent, for a free woman," I said.
"But for a slave?" she asked.
"You would have to improve it, considerably," I said.
"I shall endeavor to do so," she said.
To be sure, there is something about the collar which transforms a woman, internally as well as externally, its incredible effects manifesting themselves both psychologically and behaviorally, and even in such things as the subtlety, delicacy and helplessness of her tongue work.
An Ahn or so later, she was beneath me, clutching me, looking up at me.
"Hist!" said Titus, from the branches of the Tur tree.
I thrust Ina away, into the sand, rising to a crouch beside her.
"Someone is coming!" said Titus.
"Where? Who?" I asked.
"There," said Titus, pointing to the northwest. "There is a fellow running, a Cosian, and some fellows in the garb of Ar, how many I am not sure, are pursuing him."
This seemed to be surely strange, in this area. If anything, I would have expected Cosians to be pursuing some poor fugitive from Ar, one trying to escape the delta. Perhaps they were actually Cosians, or mercenaries, dressed to lure in fellows of Ar, and the fellow, himself, might be of Ar, in the uniform of a Cosian. That would make some sense, at any rate.
"Plenius," I called. He was next in authority in our small group, after Labienus.
"I heard," he said, appearing from the brush, a spear in his hand.
"They are coming this way," called Titus.
"Let us investigate," I said. To be sure, they might be all Cosians, or mercenaries, enacting some charade to put us off our guard.
By hand signals Plenius deployed our fellows. He then, they fanned out behind him, followed me.
In a few moments I caught sight of the runner, and the fellows pursuing him. Oddly, none seem armed. They were then, I gathered, not likely, any of them, really, to be Cosians or mercenaries.
I considered the likely path of the fugitive, given the lay of the land, the simplest geodesics he might traverse, giving him the least resistance to flight.
I could hear him splashing through some shallow water now, several yards away.
I signaled to Plenius that his fellows might take up positions in the brush, on either side of the likely path of the runner. Plenius, close to me now, half bent over in the brush, grasped his spear in two hands, for the forward thrust. Given the swiftness of the runner and the strength of Plenius, who was a large, strong man, and who had come up through the ranks as a spearman, that thrust, compounding the forces involved, would presumably carry both the head and upper part of the haft through the runner's body.
I put my hand on the spear and pushed it down. "Let him pass," I said. He looked at me, puzzled, but did not demur. He signaled to the others not to strike. I did not think they would be likely to fall on the pursuers. They were, presumably, fellows of Ar, if not of their commands.
I saw the runner fall once and then, gasping, get up, and run again. I smiled. He was not moving as well as he might have. I wondered if I could mention that to him. Perhaps he had not eaten well lately. On the, other hand the fellows behind him were not doing as well as they might either. I did not think I would have entered any of them in the Sardar Games, held at the fairs.
The blue uniform stumbled by, not even seeing us, as far as I could detect.
Close behind it came a fellow in red, whom I took the liberty of tripping. He fell into the sand, forward, and before he could rise I had stepped on his out-flung right hand, pinning it down, and my sword was at the back of his neck. "Do not move," I told him. Then to the other fellows stumbling along behind him, I held up my hand, palm toward them. "Hold!" I advised them. They stopped, startled. I wore the shreds, of course of a uniform of Ar.
"Advance no further," I told them, "or this fellow is dead."
"We pursue one of Cos!" said a fellow.
I removed my foot from the prone fellow's hand and my sword from the back of his neck, to show him, and the others, I had no grim intentions toward him, such as the quick, light thrust which separates the vertebrae at the back of the neck. Besides they had stopped, graciously acceding to my request. The fellow who had been in the lead now crawled back, to stand with the others. There were seven of them.