"Perhaps I should have seen to it," he said, "that her neck took up its residence within some suitable encirclement, that her thigh was subjected to the kiss of some appropriate iron."
"That is all right," I said. It would not take long to attend to the relevant matters, of course.
"I gather that you have some sort of disposition in mind for her," he said.
"Yes," I said. Indeed, I had a superb disposition in mind for Phoebe.
He glanced at Amina and Rimice.
"Of course," I said. We would not discuss the disposition of the lovely Phoebe before them, as she, too, was a female. Let them all wait to learn what is to be done with them. To be sure, as they were slaves and she was still, apparently, a free woman, they would probably, in any event, be afraid to speak to her.
"Have you eaten?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Share our kettle," he said.
"I would be delighted," I said.
I glanced at Amina and Rimice, and they swiftly, frightened, averted their eyes. We would discuss their fates on the other side of the wagon, while we supped.
"Where is Phoebe?" I asked, for, as I went around the wagon, I did not see her within.
"There," he said.
"Oh, yes," I said.
Lying on the floor of the wagon there was a heavy leather slave sack, tied shut at the top. Two chains went to the sack, through the leather, one toward the top, the other toward the bottom. As the girl is preparing to enter the sack the bottom chain, with its slave ring, is locked about her left ankle. As she inches down, into the sack, the slack of this chain is taken up by the captor or master. If her hands are not, say, tied behind her in the sack, they are usually placed at her thighs, that her arms will be down, at her sides, when she is in the sack. When she is almost fully entered into the sack the collar on the neck chain, the collar within the sack, the chain entering it from the outside, is locked on her neck. She is then entered fully into the sack, and it is tied shut, usually about a foot above her head. The chains are fastened to the wagon, sometimes to the wheels, to impede their movement, or to other objects, for example, stakes or trees. The common slave sack, incidentally, is much simpler, commonly little more than a sturdy canvas or leather sack which may be tied, buckled or chained shut.
"You are keeping her under unusual security," I said.
"It is necessary," he said. "She has become a beauty. The men hang about, asking about her, making offers for her, and such. I fear she might be stolen at night."
"Excellent," I said.
I then followed Ephialtes about the wagon, and sat down, cross-legged, by their small fire.
"What is the news of Torcadino?" I asked.
"I do not know," he said.
The girl in the yellow tunic served us, quietly, efficiently, deferentially. She was Liadne, a slave. She had been picked up in the vicinity of the Crooked Tam, months ago. She was as first girl to the others, even Phoebe, the free woman.
"It is strange," I said. "It seems surely there should be news from Torcadino by now."
"Dietrich of Tarnburg is trapped," said Ephialtes. "It is a matter of time. He will be starved out."
I did not think that Dietrich would be starved out. He was holding Torcadino with only some five thousand men, and that many, I thought, might subsist on produce grown within the city, in yards, in torn-up streets, in roof gardens, and such. The civilian population, helpfully, had been for the most part expelled from the city shortly after its capture. An exception had been made, of course, for enslaved women of interest. One of the duties of these women, many of high caste, now enslaved, would doubtless be the tending of the soldiers' gardens.
"There is no escape for him," said Ephialtes.
"Perhaps not," I said.
"For his men, at least," he said. "Perhaps he, himself, and some officers, might escape by tam, at night."
"Perhaps," I said. I doubted, however, that Dietrich would abandon his men.
"Have you come alone to Brundisium?" asked Ephialtes.
"No," I said, "I came with two companions, but they are elsewhere, at my camp."
"They are welcome here, of course," said Ephialtes. "There is room under the wagon."
"Thank you," I said. "I am grateful for that." I had not wished to bring Marcus and Ina to the wagon of Ephialtes, of course, for it was, for most practical purposes, within the Cosian camp. From where we were I could have thrown a stone among the tents. The accent of Marcus, here, might have provoked suspicion, inquiries and such. I had left him and Ina in a large, crowded area near the periphery of the slave camp, one populated now by itinerants, peddlers, camp guards and such. In such a place there was a medley of accents and I did not think the young man and the blond female would attract undue attention, except perhaps insofar as Ina might excite interest as a possible chain slut.
"I have kept the accounts with care," said Ephialtes.
"You have deducted your commission, and expenses of feed, and such," I said.
"I will do so," he said.
We heard a coin thrown into one of the copper bowls on the far side of the wagon.
Ephialtes bent down a little, to look across the fire, under the wagon. "A fellow is putting Amina into service," he said.
"A tarsk bit?" I asked.
"Yes," said Ephialtes. He sat back. "Several fellows have asked me to put Phoebe at the stake," he said, "being willing to pay an entire copper tarsk."
"For only a brief use and handling?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"She must have become a beauty," I said.
"She has," he said. "Shall I have her released from the sack, for your inspection?"
"No," I said. "I may wish, however, to have her presented in the morning."
"At your convenience," he said.
We heard another tarsk bit strike into one of the bowls, and then rattle to a stop.
"Rimice is in use," said Ephialtes, peering under the wagon, looking to the other side.
"You have put their former free-woman names on them as slave names," I noted.
"Yes," he said.
"Excellent," I said. In a sense, of course, all female names are slave names, being the names of slaves. But, of course, not all slaves are legal slaves. With some women it is useful to give them a new name, or even to change their name from time to time, as one might change the name of any animal. With others, it is amusing to have them answering to their old names, but now merely as slaves to slave names. Much depends on the woman, for example, with respect to what most stimulates her, and makes her the most helpless. Too, things may always be changed, at the master's will.
I heard one of the women cry out.
"That is Amina," I said.
"Yes," said Ephialtes.
"She has become a slave, hasn't she?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
In a few moments, we heard, too, from a slightly different direction, gasps, then moans and soft cries.
"That is Rimice," said Ephialtes.
"She, too, is apparently becoming acquainted with her collar," I said.
"Just wait," said Ephialtes, "until he forces her beyond the point from which she can return."
"Excellent," I said. That would be the point at which the woman has no choice but to accept the slave orgasm.
"I am interested in clearing up our business very soon," I said.
"Very well," said Ephialtes.
Liadne's eyes met mine. For some reason, she seemed terrified.
At that moment Amina cried out in helpless submission. It is a beautiful sound, and one not unfamiliar to masters. A few moments later Rimice also cried out, wildly and helplessly, her small, well-curved body, with its sensitivities and responsiveness, apparently turned against her by the mercilessness of her use-master, forcing her to endure slave ecstasy, and then, with a joyous sob, she became one with the ecstasy, and a yielding slave.
"Take the whip, and check the girls," said Ephialtes to Liadne.
"Yes, Master," she said, leaping up.
In a moment she was on the other side of the wagon. I turned about, peering under the wagon.