Smugglers of Gor

Chapter Forty-Three



“Something is going on,” I said to Axel.

“Yes,” said Axel.

“Let us inquire,” I said.

“Apparently it has to do with the Panther Girls,” he said.

“I think so,” I said.

The Panther Girls had been knelt near the center of the camp. Men were gathered about. We saw Genserich. Even the camp slaves, Tula, Mila, and the other, were present, kneeling to the side.

“Is it true,” I asked, “that you can set a sleen on any quarry?”

“Most sleen,” he said, “with the ‘Kill Command’.”

“Tiomines?” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Bring Tiomines,” I suggested.

“Why?” he said.

“He is our only weapon,” I said.

“It is not ours to interfere,” he said.

“Bring him,” I said.

Axel slapped his right thigh, sharply. “With us, fellow,” he said. The sleen immediately sprang up, and, a moment later, rubbed his muzzle against the side of Axel’s leg.

“What are you going to do with us?” begged Darla.

She and the three other prisoners, Tuza, Emerald, and Hiza had been knelt, as noted, near the center of the camp. As before they were stripped, shackled, and on their neck rope. Too, now, though it was well into the morning, their hands were still tied behind their backs.

They were frightened. They had not been fed.

Perhaps, I thought, uneasily, their captors did not wish to waste food.

Genserich stood before them, regarding them, his arms folded across his chest. Most of his men were gathered about, save for one or two on guard. His slave, Donna, was behind him, kneeling, on his left, a common position in which a slave heels her master.

“Welcome,” said Genserich to Axel and myself, acknowledging our presence. “Tal,” we responded.

“We are free women,” said Darla. “Remove from our bodies these hideous impediments, return to us our clothing, feed us, give us our weapons, let us go on our way.”

Clearly, I supposed, they were still free. Certainly she had spoken without permission. A free woman, of course, may speak when, and how, she wishes, as she is not a slave.

“You were carrying gold,” said Genserich, “and doubtless expected to acquire more. You were spying in the forest. You admitted learning of a great ship, its apparent readiness for departure, and your intention to inform others of this, with the expectation that a small force, say, some two hundred men or so, would be soon dispatched to attack and destroy this ship, withdrawing almost immediately.”

“Yes,” said Darla. “We have told you so much. Now let us go.”

“Who is your employer?” inquired Genserich.

“We do not know,” said Darla. “We did not need to know his name. Gold was enough.”

“I am sure that is true, Master,” said Donna.

“And who is your employer?” asked Darla boldly, looking up.

Genserich laughed, and slapped his thigh. “Gold was enough,” he said.

I was puzzled by these things, though I had gathered, long ago, from Tyrtaios, that titanic forces might be involved in these matters, and that one, or more, worlds, in their way, might hang in some delicate balance. Certainly there had been an attack on Tarncamp some weeks ago, when I and others had been on timber duty in the forest. It had been beaten away. Some force, obviously, was interested in the ship, and concerned, for some reason, that it reach the sea, whence it might embark on some mysterious venture, perhaps even seeking, as some feared, the World’s End. Some other force, apparently, wished to destroy the ship, thus precluding its voyage and any possible influence it, and its complement, troops, or such, might eventually bring to bear on certain distant, critical events.

“You may keep the gold,” said Darla. “Free us, that we may make our report.”

“We already have the gold,” said Genserich.

“Free us, then,” she said, ‘that we may make our report.”

“There is some urgency in this?” he said.

“Yes, noble Genserich,” said Darla. “An army is being maintained, at great expense, at the mouth of the Alexandra, to prevent the ship from reaching the sea. If the ship can be located and destroyed before its departure, this force need no longer be maintained in the field.”

“But, I take it,” said Genserich, “funds have already been allotted to maintain this force for some time, if not indefinitely, at the mouth of the Alexandra.”

“One supposes so,” said Darla.

Genserich laughed, and so, too, did the men about him.

“And such funds,” he said, “devoted to, but not expended on, the closure of the Alexandra, might then find their way into diverse wallets.”

“Perhaps,” said Darla.

“I now see the urgency,” said Genserich.

“Free us,” said Darla, “and you might share in the employer’s good fortune.”

“He is a thief,” said Genserich.

“Perhaps not,” said Darla.

“A thief,” said Genserich.

“He may only wish to conserve the funds which have been entrusted to him.”

“For himself,” said Genserich.

“Free us,” said Darla.

“I do not know your employer,” said Genserich, “or who, or what, stands behind him, but I doubt he would happily welcome us into his confidence. Rather, with such intelligence at our disposal, and our possible use of it, I suspect our lives might stand in some jeopardy.”

“Allow us to make our report,” said Darla. “We will be well paid. We will share our gains with you.”

“You are generous,” said Genserich. “What do you think those on whom you have spied would pay for you?”

“Surely not as much!” she said.

“I fear,” said Genserich, “that your employer must continue to maintain, presumably at considerable expense, his men in the field, at the mouth of the Alexandra.”

“Not if we make our report!” she said.

“No,” said Genserich, “not if you make your report.”

“Free us!” demanded Darla, pulling at her bound wrists, fastened behind her.

“But,” said Genserich, “you will not make your report.”

“I do not understand,” said Darla.

“For what do you think we were hired?” asked Genserich.

“I do not know,” said Darla.

“That your report not be made,” he said.

“Free us, free us!” cried Tuza.

“Be silent, girl,” said Genserich. “Another is speaking for the prisoners. Not you.”

Tuza drew back, angrily.

I noted she had not been cuffed. To be sure, she was free.

“And it was for that purpose,” he said, briefly glancing behind him, and to his left, where Donna knelt, in her scarlet tunic, “that a given slave, a former Panther Girl, indeed, one once of your own band, was obtained, that she might abet our search.”

“I found them for you, Master,” said Donna. “I was sure I could.”

“We found her in a low market, for cheap, inferior slaves,” said Genserich. “She still thought herself a Panther Girl, despite being neck-ringed, and pretended to angry resistance, and defiance. The whip quickly took that out of her, and she understood, trembling and weeping, that she was now a slave. After that, well-worked and, when it amused us, lengthily caressed, she began to learn her collar. Soon enough she was at my knee, whimpering.”

“Disgusting slut!” exclaimed Darla.

“But she was quite pleased when she learned the reason for her purchase, and eagerly led us in our quest to intercept the now-so-called ‘band of Darla’, which had been hired to conduct its secret reconnaissance in the northern forests.

“Slut!” screamed Darla. “You betrayed us!”

“It was I who was betrayed,” she said, “— Mistress.”

“You have had your revenge!” said Darla. “We are now stripped and shackled, kneeling and helpless, bound, in the power of men!”

“We are women,” said Donna. “We should be in the power of men.”

“I hate men!” screamed Darla.

“Because you are not a man,” said Donna.

“I do not understand,” said Darla.

“Be what you are,” said Donna. “You will then know the joys of being the surrendered slave of your master.”

“No, no, no!” screamed Darla.

“Yes,” breathed Emerald, pulling at her bound wrists.

“We put her in the scarlet tunic,” said Genserich. “A former Panther Girl, she well understood how this would mark her out, how conspicuous it would make her, and how it would make clear that although she might be in the forest she was no longer of the forest.”

“A slave’s garment!” said Darla.

“I love it,” said Donna. “In it I am myself, and more free than I ever was!”

“Our mission was secret,” said Darla, angrily. “How did you learn of it?”

“Much is apparently at stake,” said Genserich. “If there are two large and complex forces involved, it is not unlikely that each has spies in the camp of the other, perhaps even highly placed spies.”

I was interested to hear this. I had not thought much of this before. It did not seem unlikely, however. I glanced over at Axel, but his attention was on Genserich.

“You see,” said Genserich, “I cannot release you, for then you would hasten to the Laurius, to deliver your report.”

“Then hold us for a time,” said Darla. “And then release us. I am sure the ship will depart the wharf soon. Once it does so, there would no longer be point, or advantage, to our report.”

“I have not been paid to release you,” said Genserich.

“Not the collar!” cried Darla.

“No, no!” cried Tuza, despite the monition earlier accorded her.

Emerald and Hiza were silent.

I had earlier sensed that something would be done with the prisoners today. The attackers would see no point in remaining here. I supposed it most likely the prisoners would be collared and sold. That is the common fate of a female prisoner, and surely, now, it was clear that the Panther Women were such prisoners. Axel, as I recalled, had been less sure of this.

“You know too much,” said Genserich. “I have been paid to kill you.”

“No, no!” cried Donna, aghast.

I recalled that Axel, earlier, had remarked that we did not know what the gold given to Genserich was intended to buy.

“No!” cried Darla.

“We are women, spare us, spare us!” wept Tuza.

“Now you are women?” said Genserich.

“Please, Master,” wept Donna. “Do not hurt them!”

“Mercy!” wept Emerald.

“Please, please!” said Hiza.

“It will be quick,” said Genserich.

“Prepare to set the sleen on Genserich,” I whispered to Axel.

“Do not be foolish,” he said. “Do you want to die?”

“We are women!” cried Darla.

“But free women,” said Genserich.

“The sleen,” I whispered to Axel.

“No,” he said. “Wait!”

“Now,” I said.

“Wait,” he said.

“Please,” cried Darla, “let it be the collar!”

“You are free,” said Genserich. “Surely you would not accept the indignity of the collar, of being sold?”

“Yes,” said Darla, “yes!”

“Be merciful, Master!” begged Donna.

“Mercy!” cried Tuza.

“Please, Master!” cried Emerald.

“‘Master’?” said Genserich.

“Yes, ‘Master’!” she cried.

“And what of you?” Genserich inquired of Hiza.

“Master!” she wept.

Genserich stepped back, and surveyed the prisoners.

“Pronounce yourself slave,” said Genserich.

“I am a slave!” said Darla.

“I am a slave!” said Tuza.

“I am a slave, Master!” said Emerald.

“I am a slave, Master!” said Hiza.

The women were now, legally, slaves. Such words cannot be unsaid.

“You may beg collars, as the slaves you are,” said Genserich.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Darla.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Tuza.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Emerald.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Hiza.

“Are you Panther Girls?” asked Genserich.

“No, we are slaves, Master,” said Darla.

“Thank you, Master!” cried Donna.

“We have been paid to kill them,” said Genserich, thoughtfully.

“Surely, Master,” said Donna, “you were paid to kill free women, not slaves. Free women are gone, slaves remain. Now there are only beasts. Surely one would no more kill a slave than a verr, a tarsk, a kaiila.”

“What think you, Aeson?” asked Genserich.

“If we had not apprehended them,” said Aeson, “we would have been unable to kill them.”

“True,” said Genserich.

“It is similar,” said Aeson. “You failed to cut their throats while you had the chance, while they were free.”

“An oversight,” said Genserich.

I doubted that.

“Now,” said Aeson, “if we kill them, we are merely butchering beasts. We were not paid for that.”

“Genak?” inquired Genserich.

“Please, Master,” said Donna to Genak.

“It seems a shame to waste slaves,” said Genak. “The two on the end,” he said, indicating Emerald and Hiza, “suitably dieted, exercised, and trained, might plausibly be chained to a slave ring. The other two might do as pot girls, kettle-and-mat girls, field slaves, mill girls, that sort of thing.”

“Even they,” said a fellow, eyeing Darla, “might learn their womanhood.”

She looked down, frightened.

“It is within every woman,” said another.

“I need not learn my womanhood, Master,” said Emerald. “I know it well. I have fought it for years.”

“That battle is now over,” said Genak, as he surveyed the kneeling slave.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“The employer is dangerous,” said Genserich. “He is unlikely to be satisfied.”

“Let us take them back to the Laurius,” said a fellow, “and turn them over to the employer, that he may do with them as he wishes.”

“Good,” said more than one man.

“He will kill them!” said Donna.

“Possibly,” said a man.

“Please sell us, Masters,” begged Darla. “There are selling poles on the coast. Bind us to them, and sell us to the crews of passing ships.”

“They watch for such things, as they pass,” said Tuza.

“It was done with me,” said Donna.

“We might claim we failed to find them,” said a man.

“Some lies are justified in honor,” said Genserich, “and some are not.”

“Surely, Master,” said Donna, “honors may war with honors.”

“It is dishonorable to lie,” said a man.

“Not more dishonorable than the slaughter of helpless slaves,” said another.

“The house of honor is large,” said a fellow. “Its turrets are clear, but only a fool would claim to know its every brick and stone.”

“The matter is delicate,” said Genserich.

“No!” said Donna.

“Such lies are perilous,” said a fellow. “They hang by many threads, and if one breaks, it is found out.”

“True,” said another. “The risk is too great.”

Tuza put down her head, and moaned.

“I will do it,” said a fellow whipping out a dagger. He rushed forward, and thrust Genserich to a side. The men about were confused, startled. This, clearly, they had not anticipated. The former Panther Girls, now slaves, Darla, Tuza, Emerald, and Hiza screamed, and tried to pull back. Donna, too, cried out in fear. Tula, Mila, and the other slave, called Vulo here, kneeling to the side, did so, as well. Before Genserich could regain his feet, the fellow’s hand was in Darla’s hair, and his blade was at her throat. I saw a drop of blood at its edge. She dared not make the slightest move or sound.

“The matter is not yet decided, Rorton,” said Genserich, angrily. “Sheathe your dagger, and return to your place.”

“I know weakness when I see it,” he said. “I declare myself first.”

“Mutiny!” said Aeson.

“If you would be first, let us do contest,” said Genserich.

“The employer has placed me amongst you,” he said, “to report independently to him, which I will. Perhaps there are others, as well. I do not know. He has paid his gold, and I will see that it has not been paid in vain. These women must be silenced, free or slave, for the information they bear.”

“Put away your dagger, Rorton,” said Genserich. “And that will be the end of it. We will deliberate further on the fate of the slaves.”

“Deliberation is weakness,” said Rorton. “We know what is to be done, and it wants only the doing.” He looked about, menacingly. “Do not interfere,” he said. “Draw no weapons, place no quarrel.”

The men about looked to Genserich, and to one another. Indecision was in their eyes, and in their mien.

Rorton, clearly, could move his blade across Darla’s throat before anyone could so much as draw a dagger.

“The matter has not yet been decided,” said Genserich.

“I have decided it,” said Rorton. “The employer is not to be crossed with impunity. Perhaps you have the wish to die, but I do not.”

“But you may die,” I said.

He looked at me, wildly.

“I do not fear to cross the employer, whoever or whatever he may be,” I said. “I do commend the employer, however, for having the foresight to put an agent, or agents, in place to further assure the success of his plans.”

“This one is first,” he said. Darla’s eyes were wide. She remained absolutely still.

I hoped I could count on the support of Axel.

“If you draw the blade on her throat,” I said, “the sleen will be set upon you.”

“Surely not!” said Rorton.

Axel put his head down, close to the shaggy, massive head of the beast. His lips moved, but what was communicated I could not hear, but the beast’s response was instantaneous. Its ears flattened themselves against the sides of its head, and it crouched down, and began to growl.

“It is the command of preparation, of readiness,” I said.

“Kill the beast!” cried Rorton to Genserich, and the others.

“It is a valuable animal,” said Genserich.

“Kill the strangers, both of them!” said Rorton.

“Are they not our guests?” said Genserich.

“Kill them!” demanded Rorton.

“I do not think it would be wise to attack a sleen master in the presence of his sleen,” said Genserich.

“Perhaps you would like to do so,” said Aeson.

“The employer will be displeased,” said Rorton.

“Employers are often displeased,” I said. “Let us suppose that a displeased employer will have you killed. That may or may not be the case. I do not know. If it is the case, your choice is simple. You may choose to die now, or later.”

“Put away your dagger, Rorton,” said Genserich.

Rorton looked to Axel. “You will not release the sleen!” he said.

“But I will,” said Axel.

Rorton stepped back, away from Darla, and returned his dagger, angrily, to its sheath.

Darla sank to the ground, unconscious.

“Who is first?” asked Genserich.

“Genserich is first,” said Rorton.

Three or four men gathered about Rorton. “Kill him,” said Aeson.

“No,” said Genserich. “He was faithful to his fee.”

“Be faithful to yours,” said Rorton. “The women must be killed.”

“Please, no, Master!” said Donna.

“Only a fool and a weakling attend to the words of a slave,” snarled Rorton.

“And only a fool or weakling ignores right and truth, regardless of by whom it is spoken,” said Genserich.

“Kill them,” said a fellow.

“No,” said another.

“They are mere slaves,” said a man.

“They possess knowledge,” said a man.

“So now do we all,” said a man.

“We beg mercy of our masters,” said Tuza.

“We are slaves,” said Emerald. “Show us mercy, Masters!”

“Mercy, Masters!” wept Hiza.

“Deliver them, as slaves, to the employer,” said a man. “He may then do with them what he wishes.”

“Good,” said a man.

“Yes,” said another.

“No, Master,” begged Donna.

“Be silent,” said Genserich.

“Let us count,” said a man.

“Yes,” said another.

“Count, tally,” said another.

“No,” said Genserich. “I am leader, I am first.”

“Then lead,” said Rorton.

“We will sell them,” said Genserich.

“No!” cried Rorton.

“Thank you, beloved Master!” said Donna, joyfully.

Genserich looked down upon her, angrily.

“Forgive me, Master!” she said. She had been warned to silence. I noted he did not strike her. Was he such a fool, I wondered, as to care for a slave? I feared so. Even strong men may have their weaknesses, their absurd flaws.

“We remain divided!” said Rorton.

“I am first,” said Genserich.

“You fear the sleen!” said Rorton.

“Of course,” he said. “What fool would not?”

“It may be killed,” said Rorton.

“Of course,” said Genserich.

“Then kill it,” said Rorton.

“No,” said Genserich. “It is beautiful.”

“It is hideous and dangerous,” said Rorton.

“And beautiful,” said Genserich.

I, and surely Axel, who knew more of sleen than I, realized it would not be difficult to kill the sleen. A swift, unexpected blow across the back of the neck with a gladius would sever the vertebrae.

Genserich looked down at the collapsed, unconscious form of Darla. As she lay in the neck rope, her legs drawn up, I did not think she was all that unattractive. “Awaken the slave,” he said.

Aeson went to the slave, and rudely kicked her, twice, in the thigh. She stirred, and opened her eyes. “Up, slut,” he said, “kneel up.”

“Yes,” she said, “— Master.”

Aeson seized her by the hair, that her face be held in place, and slapped her twice, first with the flat of his right hand, and then the back. She looked up at him, frightened, not understanding.

“You dallied too long in saying ‘Master’,” said Aeson.

“Forgive me, Master,” she said.

“Align them, with perfection,” said Genserich.

“Knees even,” said Aeson, “back on heels, back straight, belly in, head up, hands, palms down, on thighs!”

“What of their knees?” inquired a fellow.

“Let them remain closed,” said Genserich.

“They may be split later,” laughed a man.

“Of course,” said Genserich.

“Kill them now,” said Rorton. “It is best.”

The slaves paled, but did not break position. They knew themselves, as all slaves, in the absolute power of masters.

“You understand,” said Genserich, “that you are to obey instantly and unquestioningly?”

“Yes, Master,” they said.

“And,” said Genserich, “will you strive to be pleasing to your masters, and fully so, in all ways?”

“Yes, Master!” said Darla.

“Yes, Master!” said Tuza.

“Yes, Master!” said Emerald.

“Yes, Master!” said Hiza.

“There,” said Genserich, turning to his men, “they are slaves who are concerned to be pleasing. It is clearly dishonorable to slay such a slave.”

“That is true,” said a man.

“It is a turret in the house of honor,” said another. “It is not only clearly visible, but conspicuous. It is uncontestable.”

“Hold!” said Rorton. “The question is not whether or not they are slaves, or, if slaves, pleasing or displeasing slaves. The question is independent of status and condition. The question is one of knowledge, whoever it is borne by, free or slave. The knowledge they bear is their doom.”

“That is what was at issue,” said Genserich. “It is no longer at issue. I have decided it. They will be sold.”

Donna leaned back in relief, but was wise enough not to speak.

“We have not decided it,” said Rorton.

“I have decided it,” said Genserich. “And I am first.”

“Now,” said Rorton, turning away.

“He had best be killed,” whispered Aeson.

“No,” said Genserich.

“There may be others with him,” whispered Aeson.

“And who shall we kill?” asked Genserich.

“I do not know,” said Aeson, looking about.

“Gather gear, prepare packs,” said Genserich. “We are going to break camp.”

“Prepare to trek,” called Aeson. The cluster of men then broke apart, withdrawing from the place of deliberation, in which had been considered the fate of four women, who were no longer Panther Women.

“Remove the shackles from the slaves,” said Genserich. He looked about, at the forest, and river. “I am not comfortable here,” he said, glancing uneasily at Axel and myself. “We will wish to move swiftly.”

Aeson drew a key from his wallet, and bent to undo the shackles on the four neck-roped slaves. They remained in position. They had not been given permission to break position.

Axel and I stepped back, preparing to withdraw.

“Hold,” said Genserich. “I fear I must prevail upon you to accompany us.”

“Surely,” I said. “You are trekking to the coast, to selling poles. Our village lies to the west, true, but on the Alexandra. We will accompany you for a time. We will be grateful for your company. Return to us our weapons.”

“I think not,” said Genserich.

“How not?” I asked.

“Do you think I do not know a prime sleen, a tracking sleen, when I see one?” said Genserich. “No such animal would be found in an Alexandra village. It is too expensive. There would be no use for it, no point. I do not know who you are, or your business, but you are not villagers. I would suppose you are in league with those of whom we have heard, those of the camp of the great ship.”

“If so,” said Axel, “we can be of no interest to you. Give us back our weapons, and we will be on our way.”

“The sleen,” said Genserich, “was clearly hunting the slave, Vulo. Consider her flanks, her figure, her face. That is no village slave. She fled the camp of the great ship, and you were sent to retrieve her.”

“Then,” said Axel, “give her to us, and our weapons, and we will be on our way and concern you no longer.”

“Give away a prime slave?” said Genserich. “You must be mad. We took her, and the others, when we captured the camp.”

“I have my eye on the one called Tula,” said Aeson, “and Genak, I suspect, would not object to having the one called Mila at his feet.”

“What of the one called Vulo?” I asked. “Doubtless she is for Genserich.”

“Are you interested?” he asked.

“Certainly not,” I said.

“Perhaps at one time,” said Genserich. “But I have a slave who juices quickly, and cuddles well, whose belly pleasantly warms my feet on cold nights.”

Donna, nearby, put down her head, shyly.

“And the girl, Vulo?” I asked.

“We will tie her naked to a selling pole on the coast,” he said, “and see what she will bring.”

“She sold for less than a half tarsk in Brundisium,” I said.

“You know that?” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Clearly she is worth more now,” he said.

I noted that three or four men were gathered about Rorton at the edge of the camp.

“I see nothing,” said Axel, “to prevent us from slipping away into the forest.”

“Nothing but a spear in the back,” said Genserich. “Too, I would not care to be you in the forest without weapons. Too, your sleen is a dangerous beast and you will have little with which to feed it. If I were you, I would regard its imminent hunger with apprehension.”

“Too,” said Aeson, “surely you have heard the roar of panthers in the night. It is possible they are curious, and are closing in.”

“Let us go,” said Axel. “We will risk the forest, even unarmed and with Tiomines.”

“There may be enemies about,” said Genserich. “You appeared in the forest. There may be others. You might well be enemies.”

“We are not your enemies,” I said.

“Nor, I wager, our friends,” said Genserich. “We cannot risk your contacting others, and following us.”

“I see,” I said.

“You are an excellent commander,” said Axel.

“I am sorry,” he said.

He and Aeson then turned away.

I looked at Axel. I saw that he would make away, at the first opportunity. Too, I saw that he was fully confident that I would accompany him. And why should I not accompany him, my friend? It was no longer practical for him to return with the quarry, and, in fact, he had not sought the quarry itself, but the Panther Women to which the quarry, luckily, had led us. Nor was it practical to return with the Panther Women either, for they were in the keeping of Genserich and his band. And he did have the assurance that they would be unable to report back to their employer, whoever or whatever he might be, with an intelligence which might prove threatening to the great ship and its projected commission, errand, or charge. That should be enough for Tyrtaios, and Lord Okimoto. And for my part, the hunt had been successful. The quarry had been run to ground and trapped, and that was all that I had been interested in; and that was all that mattered. I had had the sport of the hunt, and I had been concerned with nothing more. It had been a pleasant interlude, a diversion from the routine of Shipcamp. I told myself all this. On the other hand, though it was no more than a sop to my foolish pride, I did not much care to depart without that for which I had come. All I had cared for, of course, was the mere capture of the quarry, which objective had obviously been attained, but, for some reason, the victory seemed, if not empty, at least incomplete. Obviously I had no interest in the slave herself, in the slave as a slave. She was nothing. But might not pride be involved? Would Tyrtaios, or Lord Okimoto, or others, believe I had truly captured the quarry? Why should they believe me? Would they believe me? There was a simple way, of course, to convince them of my veracity.

“Forget her,” said Axel. “Put her from your mind.”

“I was merely looking toward the river,” I said.

“We must watch our opportunity,” he said.

“Of course,” I said.

“There is going to be trouble here,” he said.

“Rorton?” I said.

“Of course,” he said.

“You suspect mutiny?”

“Of course,” he said. “And it would not be well for us to mix in such matters. We could easily be slain by either side. We must take our leave as soon as possible.”

“Genserich must be aware of the danger,” I said.

“He could kill Rorton, but who else?” asked Axel. “And to strike at Rorton might well ignite the mutiny. This would not be wise to do without the advantage of numbers, and the numbers, I gather, are not clear.”

“True,” I said.

“Genserich is clever,” said Axel. “He is breaking camp, and thus reaffirming his authority, while on the outlook for dissent. Too, on the trek, men strung out along the trail, it is difficult to conspire.”

I looked across the camp.

“Conspiring may already be afoot,” I said.

“Packs are being arranged,” said Axel.

“Where are our weapons?” I asked.

“I have looked about,” he said. “I have been unable to locate them in the camp. I suspect, thus, they are concealed outside the camp, to be retrieved when we depart.”

“Donna is watering the slaves,” I said.

“Please, Mistress,” begged Tuza, “food!”

“That is up to the masters,” said Donna.

“It would be well for the slaves to be fed,” said Axel, “lest they lag on the trail, or faint.”

“There is always the whip,” I said.

“Even so,” he said.

I looked about the camp. Some men were attending to the site. Boughs which had formed bedding were discarded. The fire was being covered with care. Some leaves and branches were being scattered about. There would be little evidence, particularly to an untrained eye, that men had camped here. Elsewhere, bundles were being closed and corded, which would presumably be borne by slaves.

“Dear guests,” said Aeson, approaching us, carrying two small, black, metal pails. “We will soon march. We would the slaves were fed.”

“We are free men,” said Axel, sharply.

“So are we,” said Aeson, evenly.

“Masters often feed slaves,” I said. “It is one of the pleasures of the mastery, and helps the slaves, as other animals, to be clearly aware of their dependence on the master, even for their food.”

I took the two small pails from Aeson, and handed one to Axel. Aeson then turned away.

“Why did you do this?” asked Axel.

“I think it is a test,” I said. “Are we to be troublesome, or accommodating?”

“I see,” said Axel. “They will be less on their guard.”

“One might hope so,” I said. To be sure, I was not optimistic in the matter. Besides, I thought it might be useful, in a way, to assay the responses of a slave. Also, I thought it might be interesting, to have her before me, obedient, kneeling, in her collar. Certainly she was a long way, now, from the aisle of a large emporium on a far world, in her strange garments, where she had not even had enough sense to kneel.

“You feed the four, not yet collared,” I said. “I will feed the others.”

“I thought so,” said Axel.

I supposed his remark was motivated by the fact that it would take longer to feed four than three, particularly when the four had their hands tied behind their back. Thus they might try to get their face into the pail, as might a tarsk, or, more likely, given the size of the pail, be fed by hand, a cupped-hand of slave pellets being poured into the up-turned mouths. What other consideration might have motivated Axel’s remark, to the effect that he had anticipated this division of the task?

Tula, Mila, and the other slave, here called Vulo, were kneeling, waiting. Doubtless they, too, as the other slaves, were hungry. One of them did not look too pleased. This pleased me. Let her try now, if she would, to avoid me. Here she was called Vulo. It was my understanding that she had been given the name ‘Laura’, either in Tarncamp or Shipcamp, presumably Tarncamp, perhaps named for the town on the Laurius, to the south, though, as I also understood it, that was a familiar barbarian female name, which might be bestowed on any barbarian slave, or, even, if one wished, on any slave, even a Gorean slave, if one wished to let her know how meaningless and unimportant she was. In any event, the name ‘Laura’ had been given to the barbarian, and it was the only name she had, a name given her at the pleasure of masters, a slave name.

“May I feed myself?” inquired Tula.

“Certainly,” I said.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, and dipped her two hands into the small pail.

“May I feed myself?” inquired Mila.

“Yes,” I said.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, and, putting two hands into the pail, carefully drew out two handfuls of the pellets.

I did not doubt but what the slaves were hungry.

“May I feed myself?” inquired she called Vulo, acidly.

I looked down upon her, kneeling before me, she looking up, in the slight tunic, and collar, and she knew herself scrutinized, as a slave is scrutinized.

“May I feed myself?” she repeated, as before.

“No,” I said.

Tula and Mila gasped, and then smiled, feeding.

“Shall I cast a handful of pellets on the ground for you,” I asked, “and then you may, head down, not using your hands, feed?”

“Please do not,” she said.

“Perhaps you would prefer to be fed by hand?” I asked.

“I am very hungry,” she said.

“Would you prefer to be fed by hand?” I asked.

“Yes!” she said, shortly.

“You may then beg,” I said.

“I beg to be fed by hand,” she said.

I then, a pellet at a time, fed her, she reaching, delicately, to obtain the pellet.

“Keep your hands on your thighs,” I cautioned her.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“I do seem to recall you,” I said, “now that I think of it, from an emporium, faraway.”

“I thought Master might,” she said. “May I have more?”

“Yes,” I said.

“But then,” I said, “you were not kneeling, in a slave tunic, and collar.”

“Please, Master,” she said.

“I like you better as you are now,” I said.

“Please, Master,” she said.

I fed her, one after the other, two more pellets.

I then put a few in the palm of my hand, and let her take them from my palm. The pellets were dry, but her mouth and lips, and tongue and teeth, moving and nibbling, were moist. It was an interesting combination of sensations. Her head was down, over my palm. Her hair fell about her shoulders. It is no wonder that slaves are sometimes fed by hand. There are many subtle pleasures associated with the mastery.

“Kneel back,” I said.

She did so.

“I am still hungry,” she said.

“You have had enough,” I said.

“Please,” she said.

“We must be careful of your figure,” I said.

“Please,” she said.

“No,” I said.

“As Master wills,” she said.

I then addressed myself to the other two slaves. “Be about the business of the camp,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” they said, and rose up and departed, leaving me alone with the other slave. Both seemed pleased, for some reason. Tula went off to the vicinity of Aeson, and Mila somehow found herself in the proximity of Genak.

“Who owns you?” I asked.

“Surely Master knows,” she said.

“Your collar is unmarked,” I said.

“I am a camp slave,” she said, “owned by the Pani.”

“You were a fool to run away,” I said. “Why did you run away?”

“It seems,” she said, “because I am a fool.”

“You have been a nuisance,” I said.

“Forgive me,” she said, “for any inconvenience I may have caused Master.”

“You are a mediocre slave,” I said.

“Not every man finds me so,” she said.

“Ordinary, quite average,” I said.

“I suspect Master did not always find me so. If I am not mistaken, I owe my presence on this world, and my collar, to Master.”

“So do many others,” I said. “And many better.”

“It was my knees which were forced apart by Master Genserich or Master Aeson,” she said.

“You do not know by which one?” I asked.

“No,” she said, “I kept my head down. I am a slave.”

“I trust you understand that,” I said.

“It has been well taught to me,” she said.

“The other slaves’ knees were not forced apart?” I said.

“No,” she said.

“I gather you find that noteworthy,” I said.

“Perhaps,” she said.

“Are you a vain slave?” I asked.

“Are not all slaves vain?” she asked.

I supposed that was true, for they were women. And why should women not be vain, as they are so precious, desirable, and beautiful? How can men not lust for them, and make them slaves? What pallid, inert fool would not wish to own one? Whose blood would be so weak that he would not see them as the natural property of men? And what woman was more entitled to her vanity than the female slave, the female of females, selected by connoisseurs for the block? It was no wonder free women hated her so. Was her very presence not a reproach to less attractive women? Was not the collar itself a badge of her quality, the brand seared into her thigh an indelible certification of her desirability? Does her very presence not say, “I have been found exciting, attractive, desirable, and beautiful, so much so that men will have me in a collar”?

“Are you a saucy slave?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said.

“A whip can quickly take that out of a slave,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

My hand moved to the disrobing loop on her tunic. A jerk would drop it to her thighs, and, should she stand, it would be about her ankles. Girls are taught to step gracefully from such a tunic. I did not doubt but what she would do so, as well. It might be interesting to see.

“Do not strip me,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“You do not own me,” she said.

“You might look well without your tunic,” I said.

“You do not own me,” she said.

“You are a camp slave,” I said, “and I am of the camp. It may be done with you as I please.”

Surely she had seen girls on the dock hooted at, seized, and caressed as workers pleased, and, often enough, as a joke, stripped on the boards. Some rushed away in tears, but others posed provocatively, and then fled away, laughing. The public taking of a slave had been forbidden by the Pani. There were slave houses for such things. If paga was prohibited on the dock, for fear it might compromise or slow work, it was not surprising that the “ka-la-na” of the collar girl should be prohibited, as well.

“We are not in the camp,” she said.

“It does not matter,” I said.

“Please do not strip me,” she said. “Have you not done enough? I am before you on my knees!”

“Where you belong,” I said.

“You have made me beg to eat from your hand as a slave.”

“As the slave you are,” I said.

“Yes,” she said, “as the slave I am!”

“You understand you are a slave?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Have you any doubts on the matter?”

“No, Master.”

“Are you modest?” I asked.

“A slave girl is not permitted modesty,” she said.

“So, are you modest?” I said.

“No!” she said. “But please do not strip me.”

“Very well,” I said.

She seemed startled, and then angry, furious. I smiled, and turned away, to return the pail, and the remaining pellets, to Aeson.

“I hate you!” she called after me.

Bundles were laid in a line, and ready to be distributed. I noted there were seven.

The hands of the former Panther Girls had been unbound, but they remained kneeling, on the neck rope.

Perhaps they envied the other slaves their tunics. I considered removing the tunic from one of the other slaves. That can be useful as a discipline. But, too, not removing a slave’s tunic, when she expects to be stripped and boldly surveyed, perhaps for the pleasure of a master or to conjecture a likely block price, can be disconcerting, even dismaying, if not insulting, to a slave. Is she not worth regarding? Is she of so little interest?

“Please approach,” called Genserich to me, from across the camp.

In the hands of Genak, who stood beside him, with some others, there were two lengths of cord. Axel was with them.

“Do not resist,” said Genserich to Axel. “The sleen might be agitated.”

Axel’s hands were tied behind his back.

I submitted, similarly, and Genak, with the second length of cord, was tying my hands behind me. A rope was then put on our necks, to keep us together.

The sleen gave no more thought to this than to other events in the camp. I was confident, however, that if Axel had cried out, or fought, the sleen, perhaps startled or confused, might have become active, presumably to the end of its own destruction and, most likely, that of some others.

“Please, forgive us, noble guests,” said Genserich, “but we would not wish to risk losing you in the forest. I am sure you understand.”

“Quite,” said Axel.

“Be ready,” called Aeson to those about. “We depart shortly.”

I saw one of Genserich’s men approach, from outside the camp. He bore two light hunting spears, and two belts, with swords and daggers, presumably those of Axel and myself.

“Get away from me,” I said, suddenly, angrily.

She was near to me, too near.

I had not commanded this.

“Ah,” she said, sympathetically, “poor Master is helpless, as helpless as a slave.”

I tried to tear apart my wrists, but the several twists of the cord only ground the more deeply into my wrists.

“And he is on a neck rope,” she said.

How close she was to me!

“Away!” I told her.

“Do not be afraid, noble Master,” she purred. “The proximity of a lowly, mediocre kajira, an ordinary, average kajira, a meaningless collar girl, one of no interest to you, will be without effect; doubtless it will not even be noticed.”

I did not speak.

Her head was lifted to mine. She brushed back her hair, behind her shoulders. I supposed they teach them that.

I feared her lips, those soft lips, those of a female slave, a property girl, goods which exist for the pleasure of men, might touch my face.

There was little I could do, bound as I was, should this take place, save perhaps cry out with rage.

But they did not, but were less than a hort away.

“Fortunately I am of no interest to handsome Master,” she said. “Otherwise he might find my presence disturbing.”

“Away,” I said.

“Am I too close to Master?” she asked. “I trust not.”

I did not respond to her.

“There is nothing to fear,” she said. “I am less than nothing, only a lowly, unimportant kajira.”

“Beware,” I said.

“Surely I must kneel to beg forgiveness,” she said, and she swiftly knelt. “Behold,” she said, “I am at your feet. I kneel. I humbly press my lips to your feet. I humbly press my lips to your calf. I cling to your leg. I beg forgiveness for being of no interest to Master. I kiss and lick your thigh, hoping that you will forgive my mediocrity, my ordinariness, my lack of interest.”

“Away!” I cried. She might have melted a stone. I would have fought a hundred men to get a chain on her. What I would have given to have her leaping, frightened, to the snap of my whip.

She sprang up, backed away, and laughed. “You did not expect this,” she said, “long ago, in a great store, on a far world! But I am now collared. I have learned much. Be miserable, mighty Master! I am Mistress! I am kajira!”

“She-urt, she-tarsk!” I said.

“But not your she-urt or she-tarsk!” she laughed.

I struggled with the cords on my wrists.

“Clearly,” she laughed, backing away another step, “Master finds a slave of interest!”

“No!” I cried, in fury.

“Do you think a slave does not know when a master finds her of interest?” she said.

“I would that I had you in my collar!” I said.

“But you do not,” she said.

“I would treat you as you deserve, and then cast you into the markets!”

“How fortunate for me,” she said, “that I do not belong to Master.”

She then spun about, laughing merrily, and hurried away.

Tula and Mila, to one side, watched her, frightened.

“That slave,” said Axel, looking after her, “is a bold slave.”

“Too bold,” I said.

“It is easy to be bold with a fellow who is helpless,” he said.

“Too easy,” I said.

“As I recall,” he said, “you regarded her as inferior, and of little interest.”

“And I do so regard her now,” I said.

“You did admit, as I recall,” he said, “that she might be of some interest, to some men.”

“I suppose so,” I said.

“But not to you?”

“No,” I said.

“I watched,” remarked Genserich, who was nearby.

“Why did you not interfere?” I asked.

“I thought she might do well as a torture slave,” he said. “It could make a difference in her price.”

A torture slave, as is well known, is a slave trained to arouse, humiliate, frustrate, and then deny a male prisoner. Some captains, commanders, Ubars, and such, utilize the services of such a slave, usually for the pleasure of witnessing the discomfiture and misery of some hated enemy. Irons, knives, and cords are not the only means by which a helpless enemy may be tormented.

“But I do not think she is in her heart a torture slave,” said Genserich. “Few women are, particularly when collared.”

“Then she must hate our friend very much,” said Axel.

“Yes,” said Genserich, “or something.”

I did not understand this qualification. I did find it amusing that the slave might hate me. It is pleasant to take such a woman and caress her into weeping, begging submission, and then do with her what one wishes.

Genserich turned to Aeson. “Call in the guard,” he said, “align and burden the slaves, we march within the Ehn.”

“Noble Genserich,” said Axel, “a moment.”

“Speak,” said Genserich.

“About my neck,” said Axel, “as is known to several, say, Aeson and Genak, and some others, hangs a small musical instrument, a whistle, which few can sound. As you are a large, strong fellow, and leader, he of most prowess we must assume, I wager that only you, of all in the camp, could sound the instrument.”

“Are you mad?” said Genserich. “We must march.”

“I wager you cannot sound the instrument,” I said.

“And I that you can,” said Axel.

“You are both mad,” said Genserich, and he turned away.

“It would be most impressive to the men could you do so,” called Axel.

But Genserich was then busied elsewhere.

“That was a rather far-fetched, and somewhat desperate, plan,” I said to Axel.

“True,” said Axel. “Have you a better?”

“No,” I said.

“Perhaps you might recommend that I have Tiomines chew through the cords?” said Axel, unpleasantly.

“Is that practical?” I asked.

“Certainly,” said Axel, “first rub the cords with tarsk grease, and then be prepared to lose at least one hand.”

“You need not be disagreeable,” I said.

“You are in an ill humor from the attentions of the slave,” he said.

“Not I,” I said.

“Your position,” said Genak, “will be between the new slaves and the others.”

“Rather,” I said, “let it be behind all the slaves.”

“Very well,” said Genak.

“You wish to be behind a certain slave,” said Axel, “she who is last in line.”

“Yes,” I said. “And let her know that I am behind her, and observe each step she takes.”

“Hopefully she will bear her burden gracefully, and well,” he said.

“I trust so,” I said.

“And if she does not?” he said.

“That would be called to the attention of Genserich,” I said, “with suitable repercussions to her pretty hide.”

“Then you admit she has a pretty hide?” he said.

“It will do,” I said.

“I think it is quite pretty,” he said.

“It will do,” I said, “for that of a slave.”

“Slaves have the prettiest of hides,” he said.

“At least the most visible,” I said.

“I fear the question is moot,” he said. “Would that we were not bound.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Look ahead,” he said.

Blocking the projected exit from the camp were six men, two with leveled crossbows, quarrels waiting in the guides, like patient snakes. “Hold,” said Rorton, raising his hand, palm forward.

The attackers had an original force of fifteen men. Six were before us, in a menacing posture, including Rorton. Two guards were to be recalled from the forest, and one of Genserich’s men had gone to bring them in. There were only two crossbows amongst the attackers, and it seemed that both of these were at the disposal of Rorton. This left six facing six, save that the men of Genserich lacked the readiness of the guide-set quarrel, poised to be instantly flighted. I did not know the likely allegiance of the three out of the camp. I did know that there had been uneasiness amongst several of the men at the decision of Genserich to spare the former prisoners. Neither Axel nor I, bound and on our rope, would be likely to figure in any resolution of what might be in the offing.

“Stay where you are, and reach for no weapon!” said Rorton. “The first to draw a weapon or lift a spear dies.”

“Put aside your weapons,” said Genserich. “Take your place in line.”

Rorton laughed.

“The step has been taken,” whispered Axel to me, “from which there is no return.”

“Let us parley,” said Genserich.

“Lay down your weapons,” said Rorton.

“To die in our place?” asked Genserich.

Men looked at one another, tensely.

“We are six, you are six,” said Genserich.

“Three others will join us,” said Rorton. “They are with me.”

“That I would hear from their own mouths,” said Genserich.

“Put aside your weapons,” said Rorton.

“Men do not choose doom lightly,” said Genserich. “Your quarrels may find two, but then it is four to six. Those are not terrible odds, when the alternative is sure death. How many will die on each side?”

“None need die,” said Rorton. “Set aside your weapons.”

“Set aside yours,” suggested Genserich. “Then this matter has not occurred.”

The fellows with Rorton looked uneasily to one another.

“It has occurred,” said Rorton.

“What do you want?” asked Genserich.

“Seven slaves, and the gold,” said Rorton.

“Be with us and you will have your share, both of the selling price for the slaves, and your share of the gold,” said Genserich.

“Who would not prefer it all?” he asked.

“Who, indeed?” said Genserich.

“I will be first,” said Rorton.

“Let us do contest,” said Genserich.

“Do contest,” suggested one of Rorton’s men.

“Do contest!” called Aeson.

“We are men,” said Rorton, “neither sleen, nor panthers.”

“In such a way, only one dies,” said Genserich.

“Do not draw your weapon!” said Rorton.

“I draw it,” said Genserich, and very slowly eased the blade from its sheath. Neither bowman loosed his quarrel.

“I am not your match,” said Rorton.

“Then take your place in line,” said Genserich.

“No!” cried Rorton wildly, and whipped out his blade.

At that moment there came from our right a plunging through brush and leaves.

One of Genserich’s guards broke into the camp, and with him was the other guard, and the fellow sent out to call them in.

“Larl, larl!” cried the man.

“Do not be foolish!” said Genserich. “There are no larls within a thousand pasangs of the forests. It is far beyond their range.”

Axel and I exchanged startled, elated glances.

“I saw it!” said the fellow who had gone out for the guards.

“I, too!” cried the second guard.

“It is approaching!” cried the first guard.

“It is a large panther,” said Genserich.

At that moment, to the right, high above the brush, higher than the blade of a war spear, we saw a broad, wide, triangular-shaped head.

Two men cried out with misery. Slaves screamed in terror.

“Do not attack it!” I cried. “It is a domestic beast! There are men with it!”

“Two, three hundred!” called out Axel, in an authoritative voice.

“Cut us loose,” I said, “now, if you would live. We may be able to save your lives.”

“We are officers from the camp of the great ship, of which you have heard,” said Axel, taking some liberties with the truth. “You are intruders, you are caught, trapped! A hundred bows are drawn, a hundred shafts set to the string. Cast down your weapons, free us, immediately, if you would live.”

At this point, the larl crouched at the edge of the camp. It was a gigantic creature. Even crouching its head was as high as that of a tall man.

The hair on the back of the neck of Tiomines began to bristle. His ears flattened back. He began to growl. “Steady, friend,” said Axel, as his hands were being freed.

I did see one or two men with the beast, behind it, in mariner’s caps. Too, I saw a helmet. That pleased me. In this situation it was better to know the spear than the sea.

The larl, as it was a bred beast, was larger than the usual wild larl to the south. It may have weighed as much as a dozen panthers, three forest bosk.

This sort of thing is common with bred animals, where the largest and the fiercest, and the most dangerous, may be bred, again and again, increment by increment, with the largest, the fiercest, and most dangerous. The same is true of domestic sleen. The wild sleen is agile and dangerous, but it is seldom a match for the bred sleen.

My hands were being freed.

Aeson freed us of the neck rope.

“My weapons!” I demanded.

They were hurried to me.

I saw Axel cinching his belt about his waist. He then accepted his hunting spear, handed to him by Genak.

“How did they find us?” asked Aeson.

“We summoned them,” I said, “yesterday evening. You, Genak, Axel, and I, with the whistle.”

“It made no sound,” said Aeson.

“None we could hear,” I said, “but one easily detected by many animals, by the panther, the larl, the sleen. Did you not note the reaction of Tiomines?”

“I did,” said Genak, wryly.

“I do not care to repeat myself,” said Axel. “You are surrounded. There are more than two hundred men about. Must the larl be loosed amongst you, scattering bodies and blood as far as the river? Must a hundred, two hundred shafts, leap from the forest, seeking hearts? Look. I lift my hand. When I lower it, a wind of death will spring from the forest, a raging blast of feathered death. You will all be dead in an Ihn. Cast away your weapons and kneel!” Axel’s lifted hand trembled, and his eyes glittered with a fierce, feral blaze. I thought he was doing quite well. I was about ready to cast away my own weapons. Asperiche, I thought, would have been proud of him. I must beat Asperiche, I thought. She has obviously been too free with her smiles.

“See?” I said. “He is only too ready to lower his hand! In the name of the Priest-Kings, if no other, save yourselves!”

Genserich looked about, wildly. Clearly it was difficult to see into the shadows of the forest, which were well nigh impenetrable.

For all he knew, an indefinite number of bowmen might be concealed in the shadows, and greenery.

Too, there was the larl.

“I urge you,” I cried. “Your position is hopeless!”

“I will lower my hand!” cried Axel. “I am eager to do so!”

“Wait!” I said, doing as well as I could, but with little hope of outdoing Axel. “Do not act now! You know the fever to which you are subject. The blood lust is upon you!”

“It is not!” cried Axel, wildly, with an excellent imitation of a fellow on whom might rest the flames of blood lust.

“We were treated as guests!” I cried.

“But not well treated,” he said.

“Show them mercy!” I cried.

“They deserve none!” he said.

“Wait!” I said.

“No!” he said.

“Please!” I said.

“I will count three,” said Axel, eyes blazing. “One! Two!”

“Cast away your weapons, kneel!” commanded Genserich.

His voice, and the authority it bore, brooked no insubordination. Even Rorton, and his cohorts, obeyed.

“On your bellies, facing the river, your hands crossed behind you!” said Axel. Then he turned to the forest. “A few of you come forth to secure the prisoners; the rest of you remain where you are, bows drawn. Fire at the first indication of the least resistance.”

Shortly thereafter the band of Genserich was helplessly trussed, hand and foot.

“You may sit up,” said Axel, affably.

“Where are the others?” demanded Genserich.

“What others?” asked Axel.

“The hundred, the two hundred others,” said Genserich.

“I may have miscounted,” said Axel.

“One hundred, two hundred!” said Genserich.

“I did not know for sure,” said Axel. “It was an estimate.”

“There are no more than twenty here,” said Genserich.

“I count seventeen,” said Axel. “Still you are outnumbered.”

“We are finished,” said Rorton to Genserich. “You were tricked. You are a fool!”

“We mean you no harm,” I said.

“Do not be sure of that,” said Axel.

“The beast heard you yesterday evening,” said the leader of the newcomers, who was the second in command, it seems, of one of the coastal ships, of the sort which had brought men to Tarncamp earlier. In his group, counting himself as one, there were ten mariners, and five mercenaries. The larl had been turned over to them by Pani, with two trainers, who had accompanied them. It may be recalled that this arrangement had been put in place by either Tyrtaios, or Lord Okimoto, to support Axel, and take action, if he were fortunate enough to make contact with the Panther Women. “We followed the beast,” he said, “but it was slow going in the night, and we did not anticipate fifteen men here. We expected a small group of Panther Girls, and perhaps one or two mercenaries.”

“That was what Tyrtaios anticipated,” said Axel. “He did not expect a sizable party of armed men.”

“The larl must be returned,” said one of the two trainers. “It has done its work.”

I was sure I knew why there was concern to return the larl. The great ship would soon begin its journey to the sea. There was housing for such beasts within its great hulk.

“Dally a bit,” said Axel. “We may have need of it here.”

“What for?” asked the trainer.

Axel gestured to the prisoners, “Why, to feed, of course,” he said.

“No!” cried Donna. “No!”

“Do not fear,” said Axel. “You are a slave. You will not be eaten unless perhaps you are displeasing in some way.”

She would know that, of course. Accordingly her concern was not on her own behalf, but on behalf of another.

“Wretched Genserich!” snarled Rorton. “It is you who have brought us to this!”

“Stop her!” cried Axel, and Donna had scarcely reached the edge of the camp, her scarlet tunic bright against the green, when she was seized.

“Bind her, hand and foot,” said Axel, “and throw her here.” He indicated a place at the feet of Genserich. “It is where she belongs,” he said.

Soon she lay at her master’s feet, as helplessly trussed as he. “Forgive me, Master,” she said, “I have failed you.”

“Serve your new master well,” he said.

She wept, her tears falling into the dirt.

“Did you hear me, worthless slut?” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she wept. “I must serve him well. I am a slave.”

“I am first here,” said Axel to the mariner who was leader of the newcomers. “It is yours to abet me, and act in my support.”

“How is it that you are first?” asked the mariner.

“I am a high officer amongst remote forces,” said Axel. I could see why Asperiche might be taken with the fellow.

“I thought you were a sleen master, put out to locate spies for us,” said the mariner.

“Do you think such a weighty task would be entrusted to one who was not a high officer?” inquired Axel.

“I would have supposed so,” said the mariner.

“It was not,” said Axel. “You may address me as ‘Captain’.”

“Yes, Captain,” said the mariner.

“You have been paid, I take it,” said Axel.

“Yes,” said the mariner.

“But not enough,” said Axel.

“Oh?” said the mariner, interested.

“You see those four slaves,” said Axel, “those on the neck rope, who have not yet earned tunics?” Here he indicated Darla, Tuza, Emerald, and Hiza.

“Yes,” said the mariner. “Two are passable.”

“Those four were the spies,” said Axel, “once Panther Girls.”

“We were to capture them,” said the mariner.

“Others have saved us the trouble,” said Axel, indicating Genserich and his band, clustered about, bound and helpless.

“They are ours!” said Genserich.

“You are ours,” said Axel, “and so what was yours is now ours.”

“Sleen!” said Genserich.

“What is to be done with them?” asked the mariner.

“They are to be slain!” said Rorton, struggling.

“We give them to you as a bonus,” said Axel, generously.

“My thanks, Captain,” said the mariner.

“Kill them!” cried Rorton.

“Dead slaves are worthless,” said a fellow.

“What is your home port?” inquired Axel.

“Brundisium,” said the mariner.

“I supposed so,” said Axel. “Good. I suppose you have marking irons, and collars, on your vessel.”

“Of course,” said the mariner. “In our business, we commonly pass selling poles.”

“How long will it take you to reach Brundisium?” asked Axel.

“We are days from the coast here,” said the mariner, “and then, once we reach the coast, and are under sail, depending on the winds, it will be ten to fifteen days.”

“Excellent,” said Axel.

“Why, excellent?” asked the mariner.

“It will give you time to deck train the new slaves,” said Axel, “helping them to understand, and well, the nature of their new lives.”

“That is true,” said the mariner.

Also, of course, within this interval, the great ship would presumably be abroad on Thassa, and any intelligence borne by the slaves would be outdated, irrelevant, and useless, even should they dare to impart it.

“What of the other slaves?” asked the mariner.

“Do not be greedy,” said Axel.

“What of the larl?” asked one of the two trainers. “Some haste is involved in these matters.”

“There are fifteen prisoners here,” said Axel. “Doubtless they should be stripped, if they are to be eaten.”

“Not at all,” said one of the trainers. “Organ meat is of most interest, and clothing may be torn through.”

“Too, removing the garmenture of the prisoners would take time,” I pointed out.

“Let us feed them one at a time to the larl, say, one each day,” said Axel.

“One each day!” said the trainer, in exasperation.

“Who shall be first?” asked Axel.

“What of this fellow?” I said, indicating Rorton.

“Urt!” cried Rorton.

“An excellent choice,” said Axel.

“Matters press,” said one of the trainers. “We have no time for this. They are helpless. Cut their throats, and cast them in the river. I wish you well!” He then, with his fellow, turned about, and uttered something to the larl, which suddenly, even eagerly, bounded away, taking its way east, along the river. The two trainers then followed its track. The larl moves swiftly, and, like the sleen, has excellent night vision. I had no doubt it had received permission to return to its housing. No longer was it slowed by stumbling men, as it had apparently been the preceding night.

“I am pleased the beast is gone,” said the leader of the mariners. “It is a fearful thing to be in its vicinity. I long for the deck of the ship.”

I nodded. So, too, I thought might a tabuk be uneasy in the company of a panther, a verr at the side of a sleen. I had no doubt the larl was well trained, but it had two trainers, not one, surely for some reason, and I knew that the training of such beasts might suddenly snap, unexpectedly vanish, and be as naught. The seemingly most placid, and tame, of such beasts carries within its pelt, and surely not far beneath the fur, the ancient blood and antique heritage of Gor’s most fearsome land predator.

“What is to be done with the prisoners?” inquired the mariner.

Axel whipped out his knife.

“Please, no, Master!” wept Donna, twisting in her bonds.

“Be silent!” said Genserich. “Do not plead! Do not shame me! This is a matter amongst men. You are to the side, as a stone, a beast.”

“Forgive me, Master!” she said.

“There are fifteen,” said the mariner. “Do you wish us to participate?”

“No,” said Axel. “What I have to do will take little time.”

“True,” said the mariner. “Fifteen throats may be cut within a single Ehn.”

“Marshal your men for withdrawal,” said Axel. “Take what you want of their weapons and goods, and cast the rest at the river’s shore.”

The mariners and their five mercenaries rummaged through the packs, and relieved the bound prisoners of their wallets and whatever paraphernalia they deemed worth gathering in.

“Strange,” said the mariners, “the leader’s pouch is the least heavy.”

“That is interesting,” said Axel.

A few javelins, and blades, harnessing, goods, and such, apparently of little interest, were removed from the camp, and, following Axel’s instructions, left by the shore of the river, in the mud, some one hundred paces away.

“I wish you well,” said the leader of the mariners.

“And I, you,” said Axel.

We then watched the leader of the mariners, with his men, and attending mercenaries, and four neck-roped slaves, leave the camp.

We did hear the crack of a strap, and a cry of pain, from the darkness of the forest. We did not know who was struck. On the trip to the coast I supposed, sooner or later, each of the slaves would become familiar with its admonitions. It is helpful in teaching a woman that she is a slave. I was confident that long before they could reach a sales block in Brundisium the matter of the great ship would be resolved in one way or another. An armed force, I had gathered, waited at the mouth of the Alexandra, to prevent the great ship from reaching the sea.

“We must finish our business here,” said Axel, lifting his dagger, catching the early afternoon sun on the blade.

Donna wept in her bonds, at the feet of Genserich.

“Be done with it quickly,” said Genserich.

“Who will be first?” inquired Axel, surveying the prisoners.

“I,” said Genserich. “I am first here.”

“Why not this fellow?” I asked, indicating Rorton.

“No!” he said. “Genserich is first.”

“I thought you wished to be first,” I said.

“Genserich is first,” he said.

“Very well,” said Axel, and he bent to Genserich, and Donna shrieked in misery.

With a few swift strokes, he cut Genserich’s bonds away.

“Master!” cried Donna.

“What are you doing?” said Genserich.

“Cutting your throat,” said Axel, “but I missed. I am apparently little better at this than estimating arrayed forces in the field.”

“I do not understand,” said Genserich, struggling uncertainly to his feet.

“You might have killed us, but did not,” said Axel. “Now we might have killed you, but do not. Some weapons, and goods, are at the river shore. They should be enough to get you somewhere. Free your men, but do not fetch your things yet. We wish to be first away. Surely you understand.”

“Indeed,” said Genserich.

I glanced across the emptied camp at the three slaves. Seeing themselves observed by a free man they knelt, immediately. Tula and Mila seemed beside themselves with relief. Did Tula’s eyes seek out Aeson amongst the prisoners; and was Genak the possible object of Mila’s bright regard? The other slave, in contrast, seemed alarmed. I regarded her with a grim satisfaction, and she trembled in her place. How attractive, and helpless, are women on their knees, where they belong. I was well pleased that there were two sexes in my species, and that they were so different.

“I took the liberty, earlier,” said Axel to Genserich, “of emptying your purse.” He then handed Genserich a small but weighty sack of coin. “Do not fear,” he said. “Our friends from the coast have done well enough here, in both coin and weaponry. Too, they have acquired four slaves, at least two of whom should do well off the block. Accordingly I retained your fee from the Laurius and the original fee gold dispensed to four women who no longer have need of it, and, as slaves, may now own nothing, not even a collar on their necks or a copper tarsk-bit.”

“My thanks,” said Genserich.

“Free us!” demanded Rorton, struggling.

“I was dispatched,” said Axel, “to reclaim a slave, but there are two others in this camp, whom I now declare unclaimed.”

Whereas cities have laws, and most castes have caste codes, there is only one law which is generally respected, and held in common, amongst Gorean municipalities, and that is Merchant Law, largely established and codified at the great Sardar Fairs. According to Merchant law an unclaimed slave, one legally subject to claimancy, may be claimed, and then is the property of the claimant.

Axel went to the kneeling Tula and Mila, seized them by the hair, and pulled them to the prisoners. There he flung Tula down before Aeson, and Mila before Genak.

“I claim her!” cried Aeson.

“Master!” said Tula, kneeling with her head to the dirt before him.

“I claim her!” said Genak.

“You are my master!” cried Mila, kneeling before him, her head to the ground.

Axel then turned to me. “As you know,” said Axel, “time presses and a rendezvous is imminent.”

I recalled the departure of the larl and its two trainers.

“I will gather our gear,” I said.

“To me, Tiomines!” said Axel, sharply, and the large, low, sinuous beast, with a growl and a turn of its long spine, was at his side.

“Free us, free us now!” cried Rorton.

Genserich looked to Axel.

“You may free your men,” said Axel, “but keep them from the shore until we are clear of the camp.”

“I understand,” said Genserich.

He then unbound his lieutenant, Aeson, and Genak, as well, which two then turned to others, who, in their turn, set themselves to free others. I saw Rorton freed. He sprang up, and glanced to the shore. Genserich, to my annoyance, bent to Donna. “Oh, no, please, Master!” she protested. “I am a slave. There are free men to be freed.” But he, nonetheless, bending down, freed the slave, who, dismayed, but laughing, wept with happiness. Then she was at his feet, covering them with kisses. At least she, I thought, understood the protocols in such a situation. Genserich seemed a good commander. Surely he could not be such a fool as to care for a slave. Still, she looked well in her collar. But then what woman does not? Too, of course, his men were being freed, so he need not concern himself further with that matter, and perhaps he did not trust another to unbind his slave. After all, she was beautiful, and she would be unable, as any slave, to resist any handling or caressing to which she might be subjected. Men are often proprietary where a slave is concerned; after all, they own her. To be sure, there was also an implicit lesson in this, a common Gorean lesson, that whether the slave is bound or free, chained or not chained, fed or not fed, beaten or not beaten, is not up to her but to her master, for she is his belonging.

I regarded Axel.

“You will be taking the barbarian back with you,” I said.

“Of course,” he said.

“I will bind and leash her,” I said, “and we will be on our way.”

“Where is Rorton?” he asked.

“I do not know,” I said, looking about.

“Beware!” screamed Axel.

Genserich spun about, startled, twisting to the side, Donna screaming, and the blade of the flung javelin, a flash of steel, tore through the collar of his tunic, leaving a tatter of cloth and a line of blood between his neck and shoulder, and lodged twenty paces beyond, quivering in a small Tur tree at the camp’s edge.

“Kill!” cried Axel to Tiomines, pointing toward Rorton. “No!” Rorton cried, and turned about, slipping, to run. Rorton had run no more than five steps before the weight of Tiomines struck against him and sent him rolling down the slope toward the shore. In an instant the sleen was on him, biting, and feeding.

Slaves screamed.

“Call him off!” I cried to Axel.

The sleen was dragging the body about, and shaking it, which, I gather, opens, tears, and loosens meat. In its eagerness, by the shore, its fur was covered by mud. Twice it was half in the water. Rorton’s head hung by skin to a part of the body.

“Call him back!” I said to Axel.

“No,” said Axel. “It is in its frenzy. It will not hear. It will not respond. Do not approach it, lest you, too, be seized and torn.”

“Is it always like this?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “Sometimes there is a simple bite through the back of the neck, and then the feeding. Do not interfere with the feeding. The tamest of sleen are extremely dangerous when feeding.”

“Have you seen this before?” I asked.

“Once,” he said.

“It is ugly,” I said.

“Sometimes it is less so,” he said. “It is never pretty. It is a long time since Tiomines had a kill.”

“How long will he be like this?” I asked.

“Until his hunger is satisfied,” said Axel.

The sounds of the sleen’s growling, and feeding, though at the shore, carried to the camp.

“Winter is coming,” said Axel. “There will be ice in the river. You are aware of the urgency. We must to Shipcamp.”

“We need the sleen,” I said.

“We will have him,” said Axel. “The sleen is voracious. It feeds quickly.”

I could see Tiomines, by the shore, lift his head, and look about. He shook his head, and blood spattered about, even into the water.

“It will not be long now,” said Axel.

In a few Ehn Tiomines was ascending the slope to the camp. There seemed nothing unusual about his mien. He might have been returning from drinking at the river. Men parted, warily, to let him through. He approached Axel as usual, and, affectionately, rubbed his bloodied muzzle and fangs against Axel’s thigh. “Good, lad,” said Axel. The beast then, seemingly content, drew to one side, and lay down.

“We will attend to the body,” said Genserich.

“What is left of it,” said a man.

“Leave it for urts,” said Aeson, “or cast it into the river, for eels, for river sleen.” The river sleen is a small animal, seldom more than two or three feet in length, including the tail. Few weigh more than two or three stone. It is not to be confused with the common sleen, or the aquatic sleen, the sea sleen, which are large animals.

“No,” said Genserich.

“Why not?” asked Aeson.

“He was of the band,” said Genserich.

“Have it as you will,” said a man.

“I will,” said Genserich.

“Genserich is first,” said Aeson.

“Is there challenge?” inquired Genak, looking about.

“No,” said more than one man.

“Who is first?” asked Aeson.

“Genserich,” said the men.

“We will now attend to the body,” said Aeson. “Rorton was of the band.”

“Your hospitality, such as it was,” said Axel to Genserich, “has been acknowledged. You have been repaid with your lives. I trust that is sufficient. We have business, and cannot dally. We must away, immediately. Fetch your weapons, and supplies, and do not attempt to follow us. That would mean your death.”

“I wish you well,” said Genserich.

“I wish you well,” said Axel to Genserich, and the others. “Tiomines,” he called, slapping his thigh, and the brute shook its fur, still wet and muddy from the shore, and padded softly to his side. For its weight the sleen steps lightly. This has to do with the softness and width of the paws, like broad, velvet cushions from which knives might spring, curved knives, for anchoring prey. Axel then turned to me. “We have no time to spend here,” he said. “We are much delayed. The matter is urgent. We may already be too late. We leave now.”

“I shall bind and leash the barbarian,” I said. I looked about. “Where is she?” I said.

“Master!” cried Tula. “She is gone!”