The Initiates then reformed their double line and, bells ringing and smoke wafting about, fragrant, from the censer, took their way from the docking area. To be sure, there was at least one significant difference between the procession as it had arrived and the procession as it left. The twenty or so golden bowls which had come empty to the docking area were now leaving it heavy with coin, with jewels and jewelry. Certainly, of the raiders and the Initiates, it seemed the Initiates had had the safer, easier part of things. Indeed, to obtain their share of the riches, they had not even had to leave the safety of the city. Also, it had not even taken them a great deal of time, only a few minutes, really. To be sure, parties of this size, with the bars sounding and such, were presumably rare on the loading docks. For the most part the Initiates would have to make do with what they could obtain from other sources, such as the wages of workers. While not engaged in obtaining their livelihood from more productive elements in society, Initiates, as I understand it, spend a great deal of time in selfpurification. In this, interestingly, the study of mathematics seems to be essentially involved. It is not only women, incidentally, which are forsworn by Initiates but also, interestingly, beans. I am unfamiliar with the historical origins of these matters.
“They are gone!” said a man, relievedly.
The presence of Initiates, I have noted, tends to have a somewhat depressing effect on most people. It is generally a relief when they have taken their way elsewhere. Most men of this world, it seems, would prefer that they confine themselves to the precincts of their temples. The uneasiness which many feel in the presence of the Initiates is that which, or is very similar to that which, I think, may feel in the presence of forces, explicit or implicit, which they sense are inimical to life.
The musicians in the crowd were now again striking up a tune. The hawkers were again at work, calling out the nature and virtues of their gods. I again rose to my feet.
I had come here for a specific reason, of course, not merely for the pleasure of participating in the celebration. With my purpose in mind I considered the lines of captives. I was sure that any one of several would do.
“Congratulations, lads!”a man called to the raiders.
Some, seeing him in the crowd, lifted their hand, waving to him.
“Apricots! Apricots!” called a vendor.
“Pastries!” called another “Pastries!”
“Tastas!” called another. “Tastas!”
“Here is a tasta right here,” said the fellow behind me, putting his hand in my hair, pulling my head back a little, holding me by it.
“Yes, Master,” I laughed. “I am a tasta!”
He laughed, and released my hair. I remained standing, before him.
I heard a jangle of slave bells. A girl broke through the guards and ran to kneel before one of the raiders. “I am owned by Fabius!” she said. “Consider his tavern!” Her breasts were haltered in scarlet silk. She wore a long slave strip, some six inches in width, also of scarlet silk, secured by a cord, the strip put over the cord in front, taken between her legs, drawn up snugly behind and passing over the cord in back. The free ends of the strip, lovely, before and behind, were something like two feet in length. Her brand was the common kajira mark, the same as mine. Her wrists were braceleted behind her. On both her ankles there were slave bells, and slave bells, too, on her collar. She was, I took it, a tavern slave, a paga slave.
“Perhaps!” laughed the raider.
One of the guards then good-naturedly drew the slave away by the hair and threw her stumbling, with a jangle of slave bells, back into the crowd.
“No!” called another girl, from the side, kneeling, in brief purple silk, lifting small pinioned wrists. “The golden Shackles! The Golden Shackles!”
I could smell her perfume from where I stood.
I touched my collar. It was a state collar. My work lay in the depths. These others were slaves, it seemed, of quite different sort from me. Yet we were all slaves, and all owned, in effect, by men.
“Perhaps,” called the raider.
Doubtless there were many establishments in the city, I thought, that would be only too willing to assist men such as these in the disbursement of their riches.
The treasure was now muchly assorted, muchly tallied. Already some of it was being carried to the warehouses.
I saw a tarn, now disburdened of its loot, surrendered by its rider into the care of a tarnkeeper, who would conduct it to its cot.
Water bags were visible near one of the warehouse doors.
Captives stirred in their chains.
Some of the crowd, now that bulk of the treasure had been exhibited, began to leave.
I wondered if some of the raiders might go this night alone to the temples, to place their private offering, no Initiate about. They might stand there alone and give thanks to the world, or the fates, or the Priest-Kings, that they had returned. One controls so little, if anything, of one’s own fate. The mystery exists. The Initiates, I suspect, understand it as little as anyone else. It is only, I think, that they pretend to do so. That is how they make their living, by the most demeaning and grievous of all lies.
But others, many others, I suspected, perhaps simpler men, or perhaps more intellectually insouciant or robust fellows, would conduct themselves otherwise, joyously frequenting the taverns, prowling the streets with torches, making loud the night, indulging in riotous thankfulness. They had returned, to laugh, to sing, to drink, to hold yet another slave in their arms. These would be neither the soldiers of Priest-Kings nor the foes of Priest-Kings. They would be rather fellows who had chosen to go their own way. They would respect the mystery, but would not much concern themselves with it. Enough to spill a few drops from the first cup, a libation, honoring Priest-Kings, or perhaps, in the name of Priest-Kings, for what is involved here may have many names, what might hold sway over both men and Priest-Kings, the fates, the mystery. As no more then of men such as these than that of which they might be held responsible, as of them only the sternness of their will, the loyalty of their heart, the skill and readiness of their steel. These things they might pledge and give. As for the rest, let the fates, or the mystery, or whatever it might be, be as it would.
But still others, I supposed, might return quietly to their compartments, to be greeted there by their kneeling slave, to be feasted by her and then, later, in the light of the lamp of love, to recollect, and cherish her, in the furs.
Several of the other tarns, disburdened of loot, had also, now, been conducted from the docking area.
More people had now left.
The guards had relaxed their lines. Some individuals went now to greet personally the raiders. Then, some of the raiders, together with friends, left the area.
I saw the belled slave, she in the scarlet silk, leashed by one of the raiders. It was thusly she would lead him to the tavern of Fabius. He was taking no chances on her slipping away from him when he arrived there. The girl in purple silk was between two other raiders. Her small wrists were pinioned before her. They had her on a double leash. Sometimes superb slaves are sent forth to solicit for the taverns but then, when one arrives there, they hurry away, to find more customers. These two, however, on their leashes, would not be likely to do so. These two who solicited would, it seemed, also serve and, I suspected, profoundly. The taverners might not like this, the time, indeed, perhaps the entire night, of a skilled soliciting slave being spent in service, but I did not think they would object. Men such as these, once they have a girl on their leash, are seldom crossed with impunity. I saw some of the captives watching the two girls being led away, leashed. I wondered if they realized that such a fate might, in time, be in store for them.
I saw two officers beginning to examine the lines of captives. One had a grease pencil. They were followed by a scribe with a tablet, who made joggings as they proceeded down the line. Information pertaining to captives and slaves, their dispositions, and such, is sometimes marked on their bodies. The upper surface of the left breast is often used for this. The pertinent information, displayed in this manner, so conveniently and prominently, is easily read. The left breast is use, I assume, because most men are right handed. A similar consideration may illuminate the general custom of branding on the left thigh. The brand, in such a location, is more ready to the hand of a right handed master.