I picked out the free woman from the lines. She did not look back. She, like the others, kept her eyes fixed forward-absolutely. Woe betide the captive who might glance as little as an iota to the left or right.
How much more merciful, I thought, if they would just hood the women. It is hard to be blindfolded by, gagged by, or bound by, the “Master’s will,” In being “blindfolded by the Master’s will” one must keep one’s eyes closed. I had, just shortly before, been so “blindfolded.” In being “gagged by the Master’s will,” one may not speak, even to request permission to speak. In being “bound by the Master’s will,” one must keep one’s limbs in the prescribed position, as though they were actually so bound, or so metal-clasped, or chained. There are several familiar versions of this. In one the slave crosses her wrists before her body and must retain the position until freed by “the Master’s will.” In another she kneels, her head down, and clasps her hands behind her back. If she is right handed, she clasps her right wrist with her left hand. If she is left handed, she clasps her left wrist with her right hand. Another common version of this sort of “binding” is to put the slave on her belly and have her cross her wrists and her ankles. It is thus as though she were bound hand and foot. She remains this way, as in all these cases, perhaps for hours, until she is freed “by the Master’s will.” A very unpleasant application of this technique is to put a slave in the sun and spread eagle her “by the Master’s will.” One then smears her face, and body, and hair, with honey and leaves her there, her presence being soon noted by a large variety of unpleasant insects. This is, of course, a punishment. After such a bout with thousands of tiny, swarming, crawling visitors, sometimes almost obscuring her, the slave is much improved. The more merciful master, of course, literally stakes the slave out, binding her wrists and ankles widely apart, to the four stakes, before applying the honey. In either case, the girl will be much improved. Even the threat of this sort of punishment, it might be noted, is likely to be effective. And this slave a good deal of unpleasantness all around, and some honey, as well. To be sure, for the threat to be effective, the girl must understand quite clearly, and will understand quite clearly, that the threat is not an idle one. If she entertains any doubts on that score, the master will see to it that they are soon satisfied.
It was workers, not guards, I noted, who prowled the lines, whip in hand. It seemed those of this city, in these remote, isolated precincts, did not fear the theft of these curvaceous prizes. How secure they think themselves, I thought.
The lines would be marched though the city to the pens. I doubted that they would be far. I supposed the captives in their march must endure scrutiny from men, and abuse from free women. Too, children can be very cruel, running out with switches, pelting them with pebbles, and such. This is not prevented for these captives are, in a sense, women of the enemy, and, in any event, will soon become mere slaves.
I looked about the docking area, now empty.
I had never seen the face of the fellow who had stood behind me in the crowd, and who had grasped me by the arms, from behind, after I had tricked the free woman. In the crowd he had been behind me; I had feared to look upon him directly, for he was a free man; later, near the line, again behind me, he had ordered me to keep my eyes closed; then later he had bundled his cloak about my head; then I had later again beenordered to keep my eyes closed, until he had withdrawn. I reddened, looking back to where he had hoisted me upon him, and then, later, put me down to the stones, the cloak wrapped about my head. Yes, I had been well punished. I had been put to his purposes under the very eyes of the free woman. Worse, he had not chosen to be merciful with me. He had made me display myself before her as the helpless slave I could be made to be. Yes, he had made me kick and squeak before her! To what a sweet spectacle she had been treated! But did she also, I wondered, look on in awe and fear, watching me not only kick and squeak, but moan, and wriggle, and writhe, and clutch at him, a spasmodic thrall, a mastered slave, considering that, in some other time and place, it might be she herself who would find herself so responding, so gasping, so eager, so pleading, so helpless, so mastered, in the arms of a man? I had been well used. And tonight I must confess what I had done in the matter of the free woman to the pit master, how I had tricked her, how I had obtained information which my superiors, for whatever reason, had not seen fit to vouchsafe to me. I shuddered. But I had no rational alternative. The failure to confess might mean far worse punishment, perhaps even my death. I would throw myself on my belly before him, kissing his feet, a terrified, contrite slave, begging for mercy. I looked about. The fellow who had put me to his purposes, in whose arms I had been little more than a spasmodic doll, leaping to his touch, could recognize me. I could not, of course, recognize him. This gave him much the advantage over me. I might look into the eyes of many a man, I thought, and not know if he were the one or not. I might look into the eyes of many a man, I thought, wondering if he were the one in whose arms I had leaped so obediently, in whose arms I had been so had. I then quickly hurried back over the bridge to the terrace, to fetch the Lady Constanzia.
I clutched the second apricot. I would give it to the Lady Constanzia. I did not doubt but what she would be deeply appreciative. Such tidbits, such things as a fresh apricot, are rare in the depths, even in the diet of a free woman. I would feed it to her by hand, little by little, as she knelt there, back-braceleted, by the wall, chained to a slave ring. This would contribute to her disguise. Also, of course, as she was a free woman, it would please me to have her take it in this fashion.
20
Tonight the pit master had come with me to the cell of the peasant.
Sometimes I thought the prisoner might be dead. He was so still.
But then he would open his eyes.
“Greetings, Master,” I would say to him, for he was a free man. Then I would attend to my duties in the cell. Later I would return to the quarters of the pit master. I had never again attempted to taunt him, as I had once.
The pit master, tonight, sat for a time, cross-legged, before the peasant. It was almost as though they were both warriors. Neither spoke.
“I am finished, Master,” I whispered to the pit master, as I had concluded my duties in the cell.
He rose to his feet.
The peasant looked up at the pit master. “Is it time,” he asked, “to do the planting?”
“No,” said the pit master. “No.”
We then left the cell.
21
“I am a free woman,” said the Lady Constanzia.
“Of course,” I said.
We were in the Lady Constanzia’s cell. She had eaten, and I was preparing to leave the cell.
She was wearing the brief, white, sliplike garment, of which she was fond. It was not unlike a slave tunic.
“But I want to be a true woman!”
“Dismiss the matter from your mind,” I said.
“But what if the free woman is not the same as the true woman?” she asked.
“Obviously it is not,” I said.
“I am in anguish,” she said.
“Do not concern yourself with such matters,” I advised her.
“I must!” she wept.
“The free woman is a political concept,” I said, “with a particular political history, relevant to a particular time and place. The true woman is a biological concept, relative to a species, its nature, and the conditions germane to its fulfillment.”
“I have been free,” she said. “Now I want love.”
“Put such thoughts from your mind,” I said.
“But I am afraid of love,” she wept.
“Of course,” I said.
“It makes slaves of us!” she wept.
“Yes,” I said.
“Janice,” she said.
“yes,” I said.
“I want to be a slave!” she whispered.
“Dismiss the thought fromyour mind,” I said.
“Today,” she said, “when we were above, when he came to the ring, I spread my knees before him!”