The Usurper

52

“Have you seen the daughters of the kings?” inquired Rurik, politely, of a saffron robed, turbaned fellow.

“Yes,” he said, “four days ago. Do you wish to sell your slave?”

“No,” said Rurik, “not now.” Then he turned to the kneeling slave. “Get your head to the floor!” he snapped.

“Yes, Master,” said the slave.

“She is nicely tunicked,” said the turbaned fellow.

“She is not now chained to my couch,” said Rurik.

“You are of the Larial Farnichi, are you not?” asked the turbaned fellow.

“Yes,” said Rurik.

Doubtless his interlocutor’s supposition was based on the recognition of the emblem, that inscribed in the circular patch sewn into Rurik’s jacket, at the left shoulder, that of the five-petaled Pin Flower.

“A great merchant house,” said the turbaned fellow.

“We have such interests, amongst others,” said Rurik.

“A pretty slave,” said the turbaned fellow.

“I am still training her,” said Rurik.

“The whip and switch are useful in such training,” said the fellow.

“This slave lives in terror of both,” said Rurik. “I need only glance at the whip or switch and she strives ever more earnestly to please.”

“Is her training going well?” asked the fellow.

“Quite well,” said Rurik. “She is extremely intelligent, and well aware of the penalties for being found in the least bit displeasing.”

“She bellies, and licks, and kisses well?” said the fellow.

“Of course,” said Rurik.

“By now, she has doubtless felt the Master’s caress,” said the fellow.

“Yes,” said Rurik.

“That changes them,” said the fellow.

“Of course,” said Rurik.

“Women are pleasant in collars,” said the fellow.

“They belong in them,” said Rurik.

“What else are they good for, but to wear a Master’s collar?”

“True,” said Rurik.

“It is interesting how the collar brings a woman so alive, and renders them so needfully helpless.”

“Iron bands are not the strongest of bonds,” said Rurik. “You say you saw the daughters of the kings four days ago?”

“I understand the lamentable disagreements between the Larial Calasalii and the Larial Farnichi have been resolved.”

“Quite,” said Rurik.

“Larial VII is now a Farnichi world?”

“Within the empire, of course,” said Rurik.

“It is said that the Calasalii women now belong to Farnichi Masters.”

“Some, many, not all,” said Rurik. “But it is true that they were put in collars.”

“This slave?” asked the fellow.

“She may have been the last apprehended,” said Rurik.

“But she was of the Calasalii?”

“Yes,” said Rurik.

“It is always pleasant to enslave the women of the enemy, and enjoy them,” said the fellow.

“Yes,” said Rurik.

“My house,” said the turbaned fellow, “had difficulty dealing with the Calasalii.”

“Many did,” said Rurik.

“Perhaps the Farnichi might be easier to deal with.”

“Perhaps,” said Rurik.

“My house,” said the fellow, “is interested in an outlet on Larial VII.”

“Perhaps such might be arranged,” said Rurik. “What of the daughters of the kings?”

“Let us speak to the side,” said the fellow.

Rurik, quite willingly, followed the turbaned fellow to the side of the room.

“My delegation has done well here,” said the turbaned fellow. “We have sold plentifully and reaped much profit.”

“Splendid,” said Rurik. “May my house do as well. Tell me of the daughters of kings.”

“There are two,” said the merchant. “Their names are withheld, and those of the fathers.”

“Strange,” said Rurik.

“Both are young and beautiful,” said the turbaned fellow, “one is blond, and one dark. They were already, when we presented our goods, richly gowned and bejeweled. They seemed discriminating and astute in their judgment of women’s finery. Yet, oddly, they scarcely would bargain. Almost, we could name our own prices. Both seemed subdued, even apprehensive.”

“You do not understand these things?” asked Rurik.

“No,” said the fellow, “and that is why I speak softly, and to the side. Something, I fear, is amiss.”

“My curiosity is aroused, fellow merchant,” said Rurik. “What were their accents?”

“I make them out to be Telnarian,” said the fellow.

“Interesting,” said Rurik.

“They are the daughters of rich merchants, I conjecture,” said the fellow, “merchants who would barter their daughters’ beauty for lucrative trade relations with barbarian nations.”

“Quite possibly,” said Rurik, “but might they not be what, it seems, they are alleged to be, the daughters of kings, presumably barbarian kings, who wish to form alliances with other barbarian kings.”

“The accents?” said the fellow.

“The daughters of many kings are trained in languages, and certainly in imperial Telnarian. It is the common language in Telnaria, and in the provincial worlds, and the common second language in hundreds of border worlds, and many in the high barbarian houses are fluent in the tongue.”

“You are doubtless right,” said the fellow, “but, still, should the times of readying for marriage not be times of eagerness, of anticipation, and joy?”

“One would suppose so,” said Rurik.

“You have not yet been called to present your goods?” asked the fellow.

“It seems we are being held for later,” said Rurik.

“And some others, as well,” said the fellow.

“It seems so,” said Rurik.

“I trust you will make much profit,” said the fellow.

“Thank you,” said Rurik. “We shall hope so.”

“We shall contact Larial VII, to essay a mutually agreeable mercantile arrangement with the house of the Farnichi,” said the fellow.

“Do so, by all means,” said Rurik.

“One last thing causes me uneasiness, with respect to the daughters of the kings,” said the fellow.

“What is that?” asked Rurik.

“It is something I do not understand,” said the fellow.

“What?” said Rurik.

“In the reception chamber, there is a large, heavy metal ring, set in the floor.”

“So?” said Rurik.

“The daughters of the kings are chained to it,” he said, “each, by an ankle.”