“The greatest danger to the empire,” said Iaachus, the Arbiter of Protocol, “is not from beyond the stars, not from the ships of barbarous dogs, but from traitors, within the empire.”
“Surely,” she said, putting down her tiny bowl of kana, and leaning back in the chair.
It was late at night, in one of the many palaces of the imperial family. It does not matter which palace, as it might have been any one of several. Nor was the palace on the Telnarian home world. It was, however, within the first imperial sector. I mention this that one may conjecture the nature of its grounds, the extent and arrangement of its gardens, the splendor of its fountains, its securities, the fields, forces, and armaments, the richness of its furnishings, the lavishness of its appointments and such. Many rich individuals in the empire, incidentally, had their own palaces, members of ancient families, some of whom putatively dated back to the early worlds of the empire, some of them members of the hereditary senatorial class, still officially required to confirm the appointment of an emperor; high officials, such as prefects civil and military; rich merchants; great landlords, and such. But this was a palace of the imperial family, though none of the imperial family, Aesilesius, the emperor; Atalana, the empress mother; or the two sisters of the emperor, blond Viviana and brunet Alacida were currently in residence. That was not a matter of coincidence. On the other hand, we may surmise that the affair afoot this late night was not one undertaken without the knowledge of, and approval of, the empress mother, Atalana.
Iaachus glanced to one side.
“Elena,” he said. “Leave us.”
The girl addressed, a beauty, with brown hair and gray eyes, hesitated only a moment, but then, barefoot, in a white, ankle-length, sleeveless gown, hurried from the room.
“I do believe she is jealous,” said the young woman sitting across from Iaachus.
Iaachus smiled.
“Who would not be, of one such as you?” he asked.
His guest stiffened, ever so slightly, in the investiture of her ornate, brocaded robes.
“The fortunes of your family have declined, as I have heard,” said Iaachus.
“Imperceptibly,” she said.
“The burning of the piers at Governor’s Landing, the seizure of granaries at Losann, by unruly coloni. The raids on the storehouses on Clarus IV. The loss of the cargo contract between Archus and Miton. The salt monopoly abolished on Teris. The razing of the resort complex at Felnar. The closing of the routes to Canaris and the Drakar Archipelago.”
She was silent.
“I am very sorry,” he said.
“There are many disturbances within the empire,” she said. “It is a time of unrest.”
“But not of change,” said Iaachus.
“In its essence the empire is changeless, and eternal,” she said.
“True,” said Iaachus.
“Such things are minor considerations,” she said. “They are negligible, at best.”
“I am so pleased to hear it,” he said.
She did not speak.
“To be sure,” he said, smiling, “though the empire is changeless, and eternal, its forms imperishable and such, there might be changes within the empire.”
“Oh?” she said.
“Changes, for example, in power, in the positions, and fortunes, of families, of individuals.”
“Perhaps,” she said.
“Such things have occurred, countless times in the past,” he said.
“That is true,” she said.
“Your family is among the highest, and most revered, in the empire,” he said.
“True,” she said.
“If there has been a decline in its fortunes, that is a tragedy not only for the family, but the empire, as well.”
“I have little to do with my family any longer,” she said.
“There is a rumor,” he said, “that they have dissociated themselves from you.”
“Possibly,” she said.
“Perhaps they have reservations pertaining to your character, your tastes, your friends, your manner of living?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “They are fools,” she added. “I am well rid of them.”
“Are you in debt?” he asked.
“I have an allowance,” she said.
“It seems you were heavily in debt,” he remarked.
“‘Were’?” she said.
“I have consolidated your debts,” he said, “and have discharged them.”
“They have been discharged?” she asked,
“Yes,” he said. He put papers before her.
“You recognize the items, the vouchers, and such?”
She lifted her head from the papers, and regarded him.
“I did not request such a thing,” she said. “Nor did I suggest it, nor bargain for it.”
“Of course not,” he said.
“I do not recognize the signatures,” she said.
“Those of agents,” he said. “It was done through private, concealed accounts.”
“Why did you do this?” she asked.
“You owe me nothing,” he said.
“Why?” she pressed.
“In respect of your lineage,” he said. “For the sake of your name, the honor of your family, the good of the empire.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“I could see to it,” he said, “that your fortunes might considerably improve. That they might far, in the future, outdistance even the residues of your family’s fortune. I could manage it in such a way that you could become one of the wealthiest, and most envied, women in the empire, honored, rich with dignities, welcome even at the imperial court.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“Let us say,” he said, “merely that I think your prospects are splendid.”
She did not speak, but regarded him.
“I gather you are not overly fond of your family,” he said.
“Oh?” she said.
“Are my informants reliable?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said.
“Nor they of you,” he said.
“Perhaps,” she said.
“You have been repudiated, disowned,” he said, “save, of course, for a not ungenerous allowance.”
“It is a pittance,” she said.
“They do not care in the least for what happens to you,” He said.
“Nor I for them,” she snapped. “They are all fools, fools!”
“You would have no objection to becoming independently, and fabulously, wealthy, I would suppose.”
“I think I might manage to accommodate myself to such a modality,” she said.
“You could even look down upon your family, and ruin it, if you wish, with the power I could give you.”
“Ah!” she said, her eyes sparkling.
“It would be a splendid vengeance, would it not?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“I owe you nothing,” she said.
“But you are interested, are you not?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said. “What would I do?”
“You must serve the empire,” he said.
“The empire has, of course, my undivided allegiance,” she said.
“Your allegiance is only to yourself,” he said.
“As yours is only to yourself?” she inquired.
“In my case,” smiled Iaachus, “the interest of the empire, and my own interest, coincide perfectly.”
“A most happy coincidence,” she observed.
“Precisely,” he said.
“As I mentioned earlier,” he said, “the greatest danger faced by the empire comes not from without, but from within, from traitors.”
“Of course,” she said.
“And, particularly,” said he, lowering his voice, “from traitors of insatiable ambition, villains who, with the help of barbarians, would aspire to seize the throne itself.”
Her eyes widened.
“You have heard of the Aurelianii?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said. “They are kin even to the emperor.”
“Which makes them even more dangerous,” he said.
“Their loyalty is unquestioned,” she said.
“No,” confided Iaachus.
She reached for the tiny bowl of kana, but her hand shook.
“Julian, of the Aurelianii,” said he, “has designs upon the throne. He plans to enlist barbarians in the mobile forces, as mercenary companies, with ships, with weapons, at their disposal. They will owe their allegiance only to him, not to the empire.”
“Have him seized,” she said. “Confiscate his property. Surely it is considerable.”
The Aurelianii were one of the oldest, and richest, families in the empire. They traced their roots back to the original Telnarian world, the home world of the empire itself.
“He is too powerful, we must be careful how we proceed, we do not wish to precipitate civil war. There are portions of the navy which are loyal to him.”
“What are we to do?” she asked.
“We must drive a wedge between him and his barbarian cohorts, we must frustrate his scheme of enlisting barbarians in the regular forces. That is crucial. That is the first step. We must deprive him of these allies, and, in doing this, cast discredit entirely upon his probity, and the feasibility of his plan to defend the empire.”
“Can the empire defend itself?” she asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“Who is the barbarian, or barbarians, in question,” she asked.
“First, and primarily, one whom he encountered, it seems, on the forest world of Varna, a chieftain of the Wolfungs.”
“I have never heard of them,” she said.
“They are a tribe of the Vandals,” he said.
“I have not heard of such a people,” she said.
That was, of course, a genuine possibility at that time. At that time, you see, few in the empire had heard of the Vandals. Indeed, at that time, few outside of the administration and the military had heard even of the Alemanni, or, as the imperial records have it, the Aatii. And even in the war office such peoples tended to be dismissed, much as one might think little of rumblings in the distance, the darkenings of far skies, the occasional flash of lightning over distant mountains, such things, things far away.
“His name,” said Iaachus, “is Ottonius.”
She moved the bowl of kana a bit on the table with her finger, turning it a little, watching the ruby fluid move in the shallow container.
“I am a woman,” she said.
“But one highborn, one of lofty family, of noble station, one who may be relied upon.”
She looked up at him.
“And one, one supposes, of great beauty,” he said.
She stiffened again, slightly, as she had once before. She regarded him, irritably.
She was vain of her striking beauty, and took great pleasure in it. She enjoyed the effect, too, which it seemed to have on men, as it seemed to put them much at her mercy. She enjoyed using it to tantalize, and frustrate, men. It was pleasant to taunt them, and arouse them, and then, with cold pleasure, deny them.
“And one of great wealth?” she asked.
“That is for you to decide,” he said.
“It is said,” she said, “that Iaachus is the most powerful man in the empire.”
“I am only the humble Arbiter of Protocol,” he said, “a modest office, an ancillary office, with little authority or power affixed thereto.”
“It is said you have the ear of the empress mother,” she said.
“She consults me on small matters,” said he, “having to do with the arrangements, and etiquette, of the court.”
“What is to be the fate of this Ottonius?” she asked.
“He is leaving in two days for Tangara, to recruit a comitatus, a company, among Otungs. I shall see to it that our beloved Julian, scion of the Aurelianii, will be unable to accompany him.”
“Tangara is far away,” she said.
“Its provincial capital is Venitzia,” he said.
“And what is to happen on Tangara?” she asked.
Iaachus rose to his feet, went to a cupboard at the side of the room, opened it, moved some small objects on a shelf to one side, and pressed a button, that actuating a panel which, sliding back, revealed a small recess. From this recess he withdrew a flat, rectangular leather case. He placed this on a table at the side of the room, returning to the cupboard to close the recess, rearrange the articles on the shelf, and shut the cupboard door. He then brought the leather case from the table at the side of the room and returned to his seat at the table near the center of the room. He placed the leather case on this table, between them.
She looked at him, and then, with two hands, lifted up the lid of the leather case.
“It is beautiful,” she said.
“Who knows what may happen on a primitive world such as Tangara,” he said, “particularly once one is outside the fences of the capital?
“Be careful,” he said.
In the container there lay a dagger, or poniard, small, and delicate, with a slender, gleaming blade, some seven inches in length, and an oval, yellow handle, some five inches in length, with a swirled design in black wrought within it.
“It is a woman’s dagger,” she said.
“Yes,” he said.
Between the hilt and the slender blade there was a guard, one of its terminations scrolled toward the point, the other back, toward the hilt.
The guard, of course, aside from permitting resources of additional leverage, if needed, would prevent the hand from slipping down the blade. In certain situations that is a not negligible advantage of this sort of tool. Such guards, with their capacity to protect the hand, are common in certain forms of weapons, where the strike might be made through silk or velvet, a silk or velvet concealing, say, a lining, or a coat or jacket, of interwoven metal links.
She looked up at him, puzzled.
“Do not touch the blade,” he said. “It is coated with a transparent poison. The tiniest cut, the smallest break, in the skin will introduce the poison into the wound. A most unpleasant, most ugly, death would ensue within seconds.”
“It need not be driven into the body then,” she said, looking at it.
“It is marvelously sharp,” he said. “The strength of a child would suffice to drive it into a man’s body.”
“Or that of a woman,” she said.
“To the hilt,” he said.
“I see,” she said.
“But a scratch would suffice,” he said.
“If you wish him slain,” she said, “why do you not hire ruffians to manage the business?”
The eyes of Iaachus clouded. Then he smiled. “No,” he said, “it is better done by an agent, on a distant world, far from public attention, by an agent whose presence would arouse no suspicion, by an agent who would be utterly unsuspected.”
“What if I cannot approach him, what if he is armored?” she asked.
“You will doubtless be able to approach him,” he said, “and I suspect that, at times, in your presence, armor would be laid aside, and, if not, remember that so small a thing as a scratch on the back of the hand will be quite enough.
“Are you interested in this matter?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said. “But I am not a mariner, not a gunner, not a technician. I do not understand under what excuse, or pretext, I might be included in a crew voyaging to Tangara on such a business.”
“There will be various goods taken with the vessel to Tangara,” he said.
“‘Goods’?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “trade goods, and goods to smooth the way, to serve as inducements, to serve as gifts, and such, things that barbarians might find of interest, for example, skins, wines, grains, cloths, gems, silks, oils, copper plates, spices, gold, brooches, rings, nails, wire, ivory, iron, silver, goods, many forms of goods, ranging from the common to the exquisite.”
“To the exquisite?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “such as emerald cameos, carved in the likeness of the emperor.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“Drink your kana,” he said.
She lifted the tiny bowl to her lips. Over the rim, of purest luxite porcelain, from the valley of Raf, milled later in the tradition of the Toronichi, she regarded him. Her eyes were blue. Then she put back her head and drained the shallow container. As she had her head back he glimpsed, in the partage of her high brocaded collar, her white throat. She then again regarded him. She then replaced the tiny bowl, now empty, on the table.
Her hair was blond.
It was fixed in a way not uncommon among high ladies of the empire, being fixed upward, formally, stiffly, in an intricate coiffure, held tightly in place by a rather rectangular, peaked, enclosing frame, a headdress in effect, of golden wire and jeweled leather.
“Of course,” he said, “it may be that you would prove to be an unsuitable choice for the matter at hand.”
“Unsuitable?” she inquired.
“That you might not prove an appropriate choice for the agent in question, that it is not, at the moment, clear that you possess the necessary qualifications.”
“Milord?” she inquired.
“In the role in which you would be cast,” he said, “you must be believable. If you are not, suspicions would be immediately aroused, and all might be lost.”
“It is my hope that I might prove believable in the role which I am to play,” she said.
“My informants suggest that there would be no difficulty in the matter,” he said.
“Informants?” she said.
“Attendants at the women’s baths, and such.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“But you understand that I must be sure of the matter,” he said. “There is much at stake.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“Rise, and stand there,” he said, pointing to a place on the marbled floor, a few feet from the table.
“For what reason?” she asked.
“Do it,” he said.
“I am not accustomed to being addressed in that fashion,” she said, coldly.
“Now,” he said.
“Good,” he said. “Now remove your clothing, completely.”
“Milord!” she protested.
“Do so,” he said, not patiently.
“I am of the senatorial class!” she said.
“Now,” he said.
She angrily removed the robes, and the many garments beneath them. It was not easy for her to do, as women of her station were customarily assisted by one or more maids in these tasks.
“Ah,” he said.
Her eyes flashed fire.
“Straighten your body,” he said. “Good.
“You are angry?” he asked.
“I am of the senatorial class!” she said, in fury.
“Is this the first time you have been naked before a man?” he asked.
“Yes!” she said.
“Remove your headdress,” he said. “Loosen your hair.”
“Please!” she said.
“Now,” he said.
Angrily she unfastened the headdress, and lifted it off, and put it to one side, with the robes on the floor, near her feet, and then fumbled with the net and wire. It had taken better than three hours for her coiffure to be arranged earlier in the day.
“Shake your hair loose,” he said.
With an angry shake of her head she freed her hair.
“Put it behind your shoulders,” he said.
In fury she put it back, behind her.
“Turn,” he said, “slowly.”
She complied.
“Now kneel here,” he said, indicating a place near the table.
“Straighten your back, put your hands on your thighs, put your head up, widen your knees.”
He then regarded her, with care.
“With the expedition to Tangara,” he said, “among the trade goods, the gifts, and such, to be kept, distributed, or utilized at the discretion of the barbarian, there will be twenty slave girls, who must be of remarkable beauty, of the highest order of beauty.’’
She looked up at him.
“You are trembling,” he said. “But, of course, it must be the first time you have been before a man in such a position.”
“And in what position am I?” she asked.
“In one of the common positions of the female slave,” he said.
She made an angry noise.
“I would not look into the eyes of a male,” he said, “or any free person, for that matter, unless you sense that it is permitted, or you have been commanded to do so.”
“I am free!” she cried.
“Yes,” he said, “but to see you kneel so, one might forgiven for having doubted it.”
“I will rise!” she announced.
“Not without its being permitted,” he said.
“I am free, am I not?” she said.
“Of course,” he said.
But she remained kneeling. She had not received permission to rise.
“Yes,” he said, approvingly, “I think you will do very nicely.”
“I suppose I should be pleased,” she said.
“Of course,” he said.
She shook, half in trepidation, half in fury. She did not know whether she was pleased, or angered. Within her lovely, tumultuous bosom feelings warred.
Then she became again the woman of the senatorial class.
“I shall see that you are included on the cargo manifest for Tangara,” he said.
“The other nineteen women will also be free women, of high class?” she said.
“No,” he said. “They will be common slave girls, save, of course, that they will be of extraordinary beauty.”
“But I will be the most beautiful,” she said.
“One does not know,” he said. “One must see what the men think.”
“I despise men,” she said. “But not your lordship, of course,” she added, quickly.
“Another agent will be sent with you,” he said. “But, in the interests of security, he will make himself known to you only later.”
“He will be a member of the crew?”
“Yes.”
“He will bring the dagger?”
“Yes, and he will, of course, assist you in your work, in so far as it is practical.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“He will see that you obtain the knife,” he said. “After all, it is not he who is likely to be alone with the barbarian at night.’’
“I see,” she said.
“Too, of course, he must arrange for your mutual flight, after the deed, and see that you are returned safe and sound to the inner precincts of the empire, to receive your rewards, your renewed wealth and status, your new estates and palaces, such tokens of an empire’s gratitude.”
“My thanks, milord!” she said.
“Do you think you can carry off this matter?” he asked.
“Surely, milord,” she smiled.
“Do you think that you will be able to stand it,” he asked, “if your small, fair limbs should be encircled with steel, if you should feel chains upon your beauty, if your neck might even feel upon it a collar of steel?”
“I would know such things to be an empty farce,” she said.
“I think that you would find that they would hold you as well as any other girl upon the ship.”
“‘Girl’?” she asked.
“Such an expression,” he said, “is commonly used of the female slave, perhaps because she is lowly, and nothing, perhaps because it sweeps away cant and hypocrisy, and speaks of unmitigated, direct, uncompromising sexuality.”
“I could wear chains,” she said, “contenting myself with the knowledge that a hundred times their weight in gold awaits me later!”
“You may rise,” he said.
She leapt to her feet and ran to her clothing, which lay strewn on the marble.
She began to gather it up, and sort it out. She turned to him.
“May I bring my intimate maid?” she asked.
“No,” smiled Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol.
“How then shall I manage?” she asked, puzzled.
“The slave girl, which will be your guise,” he said, “seldom needs assistance in dressing, for her garb is commonly simple, if, indeed, any is permitted to her at all.”
“What of my hair?” she asked.
“That, too, will be quite simple,” he said. “It need only be well washed, brushed and combed-vital, abundant, full-bodied, glossy and long.”
“I would take my maid with me,” she said.
“No,” he said.
“I would have more kana,” she said, irritably.
“No,” he said.
“Do not dress here,” he said. “I have work to do.”
She stood there, clutching her garments about her.
“I would forget, for the time,” he said, “the drinking of kana from luxite vessels. I would rather accustom myself to the prospect of drinking water from pans, on all fours.”
“Doubtless it is time that I was on my way,” she said.
“Doubtless,” he concurred.
She threw him a look of fury.
She had been conducted to the palace secretly, and would be returned to her chambers in the city in the same way. But it would be best if as few as possible noted the comings and goings of a mysterious party, arriving and parting in darkness, hurrying in and out of a closed carriage, a party which consisted, it might seem, of some high lady and her escort.
“You may leave,” he said.
“I am not to be addressed in that fashion,” she said. “I am a lady of the senatorial class.”
“You are now an agent, and will take orders,” he said.
She stiffened, angrily, holding her garments about her.
“Later,” he said, “you may revel in the glories of your wealth and status. In the meantime, you are no more than a vain, declined aristocrat, of dubious character, and repudiated by your family.”
“Beast!” she said.
He regarded her, and she stepped back, uncertainly.
“Perhaps I should throw you to the marble,” he said.
She gasped.
“Perhaps you can imagine what it would feel like, on your body, as you were seized, held helplessly and ravished.”
She retreated.
She clutched the clothing before her, about her, closely, defensively.
“I jest, of course,” he said.
“Of course, milord!” she laughed.
“Milord,” she said.
“Yes?” he said.
“Your informants?” she said. “You spoke of bath attendants, and such.”
“Yes?” he said.
“Was my intimate maid among them?” she asked, angrily.
“Perhaps,” he said.
“I will beat her,” she said, “as she has never been beaten before!”
“Your carriage will be waiting,” said Iaachus, the Arbiter of Protocol. “You will be contacted again, tomorrow, and the necessary arrangements will be made.
“Dress outside,” he said.
“Yes, milord,” she said, and backed from the room.
Her emotions, in the anteroom, were like charging, leaping seas within her, chaotic tides, irrepressible stirrings, storms of confusion, of delight, of ambition, of fury, of humiliation, of curiosity. She reveled in the improvement of her prospects, the prospect of the redemption of her fortunes, the vistas of status, of wealth and power held out before her, that she could become one of the foremost ladies in the empire, perhaps, nay, undoubtedly, invited even to participate in the court! And so much could be purchased so simply, at so little cost as an awaited opportunity and the merest scratch of a tiny point. She could, once success was hers, so easily wrought, return to the empire, ruin her family, bring destruction in a thousand ways upon her enemies, and upon others, whom she might please, who perhaps had slighted her, or disapproved of her, or might have done so. But, too, she shook with humiliation, with fury. Within, a man had seen her, she, though a woman of the senatorial class, as naked as a slave girl! To be sure, he had doubtless had no choice. He must have had, she reassured herself, to make what determinations he needed, to make certain that she was fully suitable for inclusion within his plans, to ascertain her fittingness for the role in which he was considering casting her. Yes! Yes! And apparently he had found her fitting all right! She was extremely beautiful! She knew that. She would do quite well. She would do superbly! She was extremely vain of her beauty, and relished its power. But, too, she was disturbed by feelings she had had, before him, as when turning before him, when he had told her to do so, as when kneeling before him, when he had told her to do so, and precisely according to his instructions. For an instant, here and there, she had suddenly, overwhelmingly, frighteningly, felt wholly, radically, simply, basically, fundamentally female, felt herself a creature to be seen in terms of its basic, radical psychosexuality, a creature with no alternatives, no options, other than a total helpless, yielded femininity, a creature of basic femaleness, a femaleness imbued with, redolent with, radiant, profound, pervasive passion, and, too, for an instant, she sensed what might be the nature of a total love, obedience and service, sensed the profound sexuality of a creature who is uncompromisingly owned, and must be, under the threat of terrible punishments, but is eager, as well, to be, hot, devoted, and dutiful. She had sensed then, in distracted, terrified, resisted moments, simply, what it might be to be a woman, a true woman, radically, fundamentally, basically.
How she hurled such thoughts from her head! How she hated men! How she hated the dark-garbed, mysterious, powerful Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol. How she hated slaves! How she hated the world, the empire, everything!
She was of noble family, she was of the highest lineage, she was, even, of the senatorial class!
She thought of her intimate maid!
The chit! How she would beat her!
It was at this moment that, in the outer room, the anteroom, she saw the white-gowned young woman who had been, earlier, in the inner room, who had been dismissed before she, the woman of the senatorial class, and the Arbiter of Protocol had begun to discuss matters of a possibly delicate, sensitive nature.
The girl had been lying curled on a mat, in the white, sleeveless, woolen gown, at the far wall, well out of earshot of the inner room, which, in any event, was sealed with a mighty door, a heavy portal designed to be soundproof.
When the woman of senatorial class had entered the room the girl at the far wall had stirred, and then, becoming aware of her, had hurriedly knelt on the mat, her head to the floor, the palms of her hands on the floor, as well.
“Girl!” snapped the woman of senatorial rank.
The girl hurried forward, and knelt before her, her head to the floor, her palms upon the floor, as well.
“Mistress?” asked the girl, frightened.
“Are you trained as a lady’s maid?” inquired the woman of senatorial rank.
“No, Mistress!” said the girl, frightened.
The woman of senatorial rank uttered a sound of exasperation, of impatience.
“I would dress,” she said. “Do you think yourself competent to assist me?”
“I will try, Mistress,” said the girl.
And, in a few moments, with the assistance of the girl, who was deferent, and whose fingers seemed adept in such matters, the woman of senatorial rank was again suitably robed.
There was little to be done about the coiffure, of course, and it would have taken hours to manage properly, but her hair could be muchly concealed within the frame of wire and jeweled leather, and, particularly in the darkness, few would guess that it had been disarranged.
The bedecking of the imperial female, of the upper classes, was not a simple task, given the numerous garments, their positioning, the cunning closures, and such, but the matter was soon finished.
“You are certain you have not been a lady’s maid before?” asked the woman of senatorial rank, regarding herself in one of the wall mirrors.
“No, Mistress,” said the girl, again kneeling.
“That dress you are wearing,” said the woman of senatorial rank. “It is all you are wearing, is it not?”
“Yes, Mistress. Forgive me, Mistress,” whispered the girl.
“You are very pretty,” said the woman of senatorial rank.
Though the gown of the girl was loose, and of an ankle-length, it was not difficult to detect a graceful, well-curved form within it, and the neckline was surely lower than it need have been, making clear that it held merely precariously captive a lovely, well-formed bosom.
“Thank you, Mistress,” whispered the girl.
“You have not been trained as a lady’s maid, and yet you seem familiar with the subtleties, the intricacies, of a lady’s investiture,” said the woman of senatorial rank.
“Forgive me, Mistress,” said the girl.
“Interesting,” mused the woman of senatorial rank.
The girl, fearful, kept her head to the floor.
“Look at me,” said the woman of senatorial rank.
The girl looked up, timidly, but did not dare to raise her eyes above the ornate collar of the robes of the woman standing before her.
“Look into my eyes, my dear,” said the woman of senatorial rank, kindly.
Timidly, gratefully, the girl did so.
The woman of senatorial rank then slapped her, viciously, with all her force, across the face.
Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes. She looked at the woman of senatorial rank. Her eyes were startled, questioning.
“Do you not know,” inquired the woman of senatorial rank, “that you are not to look into the eyes of one such as I, unless you sense that you may do so, or unless permission is granted?”
“Forgive me, Mistress,” said the girl, shuddering, putting her head down to the floor, as she had before.
“On your belly,” said the woman of senatorial rank. “Kiss my slippers!”
Instantly the girl obeyed.
The woman of senatorial rank then spurned her to her side, with her foot.
The girl lay on her side then, in pain, but did not dare, of course, to look into the eyes of the one who had spurned her to her place.
“Slaves are disgusting,” said the free woman.
“Yes, Mistress!” said the slave, putting her head down.
The free woman then spun about, and left the room, with a swirl of her robes.
How shamed I have been, she thought. How I will beat my intimate maid tonight, the embonded little chit!
To be sure, that maid was now her only slave, that being one of the unfortunate, degrading consequences of the reduction in her resources, in the slippage of her fortunes.
Her carriage would be waiting.
Shortly after her departure a bell rang in the anteroom, and the slave girl, whose name, we recall, was Elena, hurried to the inner room, where she knelt before the Arbiter of Protocol, in suitable obeisance.
“You are crying,” he observed.
“Forgive me, Master,” she said.
“Our guest has left?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Go to my chamber,” he said. “Prepare it for pleasure. Then chain yourself, naked, at the foot of the couch.”
“Yes, Master!” she said, and then, unbidden, she crawled to his boots and kissed them, gratefully, fervently.
She then hurried from the room.
From his chambers she saw a darkened, closed carriage leaving the grounds.
She looked to the cuffs and shackles, the collar. They were all open.
She looked about the room, to make certain that all was in readiness. In a moment it would be too late to repair any last-minute oversights.
All seemed in order.
She slipped her gown to the side.
She looked down at the chains, the impediments. How totally helpless, how much at his, or anyone’s, mercy, she would be in a moment.
She loved their weight, the sound of them on her body, how they moved against the ring.
How they told her what she was, and how she must be.
The master, of course, held the key to them.
She began with the left ankle, for there is an order to such things. It is one of the first things a girl is taught. Then, in moments, the steel, in all its beauty, its efficiency, its closeness, its meaningfulness, was upon her.
She could scarcely control herself.
She had a good deal of slack now, but such devices may be shortened and adjusted, as the master may please.
She looked to the wall.
On it was a whip.
She did not think she would be beaten. Surely she would do her best to please.
She lay there, like a tethered kitten, at the foot of the couch, like the animal she was.
She trembled with desire.
She did not envy the free woman.
The free woman, in anger, confused, filled with the hope of improved fortunes, fearful of the future, resolved, rode alone in the closed, unmarked carriage, the blinds drawn, her guards, her escort, on the box outside.
Coming to the palace she had permitted her escort to share the carriage.
Doubtless that had given him much pleasure. Doubtless he had been looking forward to the return trip, as well, to the opportunity, if only briefly, to be again close to one such as she. She was sure of it!
Then she had banished him to the box.
How amused she had been at this.
It had been difficult for him to conceal his disappointment.
Too, for a moment there had been a look in his eyes which had frightened her, but then it was gone.
She reassured herself.
Men are weak, she thought.
She smiled to herself.
She looked down at the floor of the carriage.
Slave girls, she thought, those meaningless chits, might be transported in such a carriage naked, kneeling, crouched down, on the floor, a blanket, or cloak, thrown over them.
Slave girls are commonly so transported, in closed vehicles, and such.
They are commonly kept in ignorance.
How fitting for them, she thought.
How pleased she was, that she was a different sort of woman, not such as they.
The wheels sounded hollow on the hard surface; the hoofs of the draft beasts rang on the pavement.
Back in the palace Iaachus, the Arbiter of Protocol, gathered together papers, inserting them in a portfolio, and then placing the portfolio in the recess from which, earlier, a rectangular leather case had been withdrawn.
Afterward he proceeded to his chambers.