Vagabonds of Gor

31 We Resume the Trek

He was standing there, very still, partly bent over, watching our camp.

I had left Plenius, getting up, and strolling away, and had then circled about. In this fashion I had come up behind him.

My left hand went over his mouth and I pulled his head back, holding him helplessly against my turned body, exposing his throat for my knife, which pressed against it. He was helpless, silenced and could be instantly killed.

"Do not move, rencer," said I, "or you are dead."

He neither moved, nor made the slightest of noises.

"Kneel," I whispered to him.

He knelt.

I then put him on his belly and, kneeling over him, my knife in my teeth, whipped out a length of binding fiber and lashed his hands together, behind his back.

"Do not cry out," I told him.

As far as I could determine there were no others in the immediate vicinity. To be sure, from the marks upon his face, and the shrubbery with which he had altered his outline, that of the tor shrub, he was not a simple rencer going about his normal round of duties, plying a livelihood in the delta. He was perhaps a scout, or a hunter of men. To be sure, he was young, little more than a boy. Yet such, too, can be dangerous, terribly dangerous. An experienced warrior does not take them lightly.

"On your feet," I said.

I then pushed him forward, toward our camp.

"A rencer," I announced, in a moment, thrusting him into our midst.

Men crowded about.

"Keep watch," I said.

Titus and another fellow went out, as pickets.

Ina came forward, too, to see.

"This is a male," I said to Ina. Then she swiftly knelt before him, the palms of her hands in the sand, putting her head to the sand, in obeisance. He was young, but she, as she was a female, would put herself in obeisance before him, submitting her femaleness to his maleness.

He looked at her for a moment, startled. I would suppose that on his rence island he was not used to receiving such attention and deference from beautiful females. Rence women, on the whole, tend to be ill-tempered, frustrated and jealous of men. Many of them seem to feel that it is demeaning to them to be women. Many of them, it seems, would rather be imitation men than true women. Nowadays, with the increasing numbers of female slaves in the delta, a tendency muchly resented by the free females, though for whatever reason it is hard to imagine, given their claims of superiority to such creatures, many of the men, those lucky enough to own a slave, are less frustrated and deprived than once they were wont to be. Rence women, incidentally, once they themselves are enslaved, and learn that their absurdities and pretenses are now irrevocably behind them, make excellent slaves, as slavers have recognized for years. I have mentioned how they come often come to the delta to bargain for women, usually extra daughters. Interestingly the daughters are usually eager to leave the rence. So, too, are many other women, who propose themselves to their village chieftains, for such extradition. On some rence islands I have heard, incidentally, that the men have revolted, and enslaved their women. These are usually kept in cord collars, with small disks attached to them, indicating the names of their masters. Branding irons, usually with the common Kajira design, are now supposedly a trade item in the delta. These men are supposedly the most dangerous of rencers, being the truest of men. A similar abundance and release of masculine energy, it seems, has taken place in Tharna, dating from the overthrow of the gynocracy.

"A rencer," snarled one of our men.

The lad straightened up a little, but moved back.

"Remember the tharlarion, the arrows," said a fellow.

"Yes," said another.

"Remember the trek through the rence," said another.

"Yes," said a fellow.

The lad seemed to me a brave one.

"See the marks on his face," said another.

"Yes," said another, "and these," tearing the bits of shrubbery from him.

"Murdering rencer," said a man, drawing his knife.

"Kill him," said a man.

"Hold," said I.

"I will cut his throat now," said a fellow.

"Hold." I said. "Where is Labienus?"

"Over there," said a man. He indicated Labienus, several yards away. He was facing a tree, leaning meditatively against it, his arms outstretched, his hands braced against the trunk.

"Let us bring him to the captain," I said.

This seemed to me the most likely way to save the boy's life. His youth would make little difference, I feared, to men who had been under the arrows from the rence, who had lived in terror, who had lost beloved comrades. They would understand, and correctly, that such a lad, large, strapping and strong, might even now be able to draw the great bow, and if not now, then in a year or two. Also a wild idea had come to me. I was curious to see if Labienus might have similar thoughts.

"Yes," said a fellow, brandishing his knife, "let us take him to the captain!"

The lad turned pale.

The lad was thrust and shoved toward Labienus who roused himself from his thoughts to turn and face us.

"It is a rencer we put before you," said a man.

"A spy!" said another.

"Caught by Tarl!" said another.

"His appearance suggests that of a hunter and killer," said another.

"It is a lad," I said.

Labienus turned his head toward us. The eyes were a mass of disfigured scar tissue.

"What is your name, lad?" asked Labienus.

"Ho-Tenrik," he said, proudly.

"Is that significant?" I asked. I thought it meet to inquire for his way of announcing this suggested that it might be of some importance. 'Ho, , incidentally, in Gorean, is a common prefix indicating a lineage. It is sometimes used, and sometimes not. In this context it would presumably indicate that the young man was the son, or descendant, natural or adopted, of a fellow named 'Tenrik'. I might have translated the name, I suppose, as «Tenrikson» but I have preferred to retain the original Gorean, supplemented by this note.

"I am the son of Tenrik," he said, "brother to Tamrun." The men looked at one another. I saw that that name meant little to them.

"Nephew then," said he, "to Tamrun."

"I understand," I said.

Labienus, I noted, appeared to recall the name. I had once mentioned it to him, long ago.

"Do you come from the village of Tamrun?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"But from one in its vicinity?"

"Yes," he said.

"You are a long way from home," I said.

"We hunt the men of Ar," he said.

"Kill him," said a man.

"Who is Tamrun?" asked a fellow.

"Tamrun is a high leader in the rence," I said, "something of a legend, a strategist and statesman of sorts, much like Ho-Hak, of the tidal marshes, one of the few fellows who can organize and summon a number of villages at one time."

"Then he was involved in the attacks?" asked a man.

"I would suppose so," I said.

"Yes!" said the lad, proudly. "And so, too, was I, and the men of my village."

I did not think these eager asseverations on the part of the lad, under the circumstances, were necessary.

"A sweet vengeance," said a man, "to have a nephew of this Tamrun in our power."

"I do not fear torture!" said the lad.

He was indeed a brave lad. I myself have always entertained a healthy dislike of torture, even, one might say, to the point of having a distinct aversion to it.

"Why did you attack us?" asked Labienus.

"You are our enemies," said the lad. "You invaded our country."

"We pursued Cosians!" said a man.

"There are few Cosians in the delta," said the lad.

"His perceptions would certainly seem warranted, from his point of view," I said. "Too, he knew there was no retreating Cosian force in the delta, and he might well suppose you knew this, as well. Too, one of their villages was burned, unfortunately, which would naturally be taken as an act of war. If you kick a larl you can not very well blame it for taking notice of the fact."

"Do you take his part?" asked a man.

"What would you have thought, if you were of the rence?" I asked.

"We knew you were our enemies," said the lad, "even before you came into our country."

"How would you know that?" I asked.

"Our friends, the Cosians, warned us," he said.

"And you believed them?" I asked.

"Your behavior proved them right," he said.

"No!" said a fellow.

"But so it must have seemed," said I, "to those of the rence."

The men looked at one another, angrily.

"Kill him," snarled a fellow.

"I am not afraid to die," said the youth. But his lip trembled, a little.

One of the men put his knife under his chin. "You hunt the men of Ar, do you?" he asked.

"Yes," said the lad, lifting his chin a bit, that the blade not be entered deeply into it.

"But you are ours, and bound," said another.

"The hunter, it seems," said a fellow, "has been hunted."

"And taken," said another.

"I was not taken by you!" said the lad.

The fellow tensed, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

"But you could have been," I said.

"Perhaps," said the youth.

This concession was not only warranted, in my opinion, but seemed one of the first judicious responses we had had from the youth.

"There must be others about," said one of the men.

"Yes," said another.

"Let us strip this one and use him as bait, bound and gagged, to lure the others in," suggested a fellow.

"Then we can kill them all," said a man.

"We do not have time," said another. "Let us dismember him, and hang his limbs from the branches of a tree, as a warning."

The lad turned justifiably pale at these somewhat ominous recommendations. I was pleased I was not he.

"Captain?" asked one of the men.

"I am thinking," said Labienus. "I must think."

"Check with the pickets," I said to a man. "See if any others are about."

He left the group.

I glanced at Ina. She was on her knees, where she belonged. Her knees were clenched closely together, as I think she was frightened. I did not reprimand her for this, however.

"Look at the sky, lad," recommended a fellow.

It was very beautiful now, in the late afternoon.

The youth swallowed, hard.

The fellow I had sent out returned in a few Ehn. "There is no sign of others about," he said.

"Too bad," said one of the men. "It might be nice to finish more than one of these wretches."

"Put all thoughts of rescue out of your mind, lad," said the fellow who had recommended that he avail himself of the opportunity to regard the sky.

"I have thought," said Labienus. We turned to regard him.

Then, he turned, facing the tree again, beside which he stood. He put his hands out, touching it. He seemed quiet, mild-mannered. We were puzzled at his quiescence. Then, suddenly, in an instant, his face contorted with rage, uttering an animallike cry, he tore at the tree, gouging the wood, tearing bark from it, scattering it about. For an instant he seemed a rabid sleen.

"Aii!" cried the lad.

And so, too, similarly, did we, who knew something of the power of Labienus and his strange practices, react. We, certainly I, and I think, all of us, were horrified. Even we who had been with Labienus these last several days had not understood what he could do. The effect on the innocent lad, he come perforce a captured stranger amongst us, was clearly visible. He was white-faced, shaken. So, too, I think, were we.

Then, strangely calm, but with those gray, ruined, hooklike hands, like iron claws before him, wood clinging here and there to them, Labienus turned his white, sightless eyes toward us.

"Captain?" asked one of the men.

"I have a knife here, Captain," said one of the men. "Shall I strip the prisoner?" Prisoners on Gor are often stripped. There are various reasons for this. For example, in this fashion they are forced to stand out, easily to be recognized as prisoners or slaves; they are helped to understand that they are now in the power of others and it makes it difficult for them to conceal weapons. To be sure, much depends on context. Some Gorean workmen, for example, work nude, or scantily clad. Nudity, too, is not that uncommon in the gyms, the exercise yards and the baths.

"No," said Labienus. "Do not remove his clothing."

"My thanks, captain," said the lad, respectfully, gratefully. I suppose he was appreciative of this not only for his own sake, but, too, because of certain delicacies of honor involved, these having to do with his family and its importance in the marsh.

Labienus turned those frightful, dreadful sightless eyes upon the youth.

"Captain?" asked the youth. Labienus did not speak.

"I am your prisoner, captain," said the youth, uncertainly.

"We do not take prisoners," said Labienus. "Ah!" cried a fellow, lifting his knife.

Ina uttered a small cry of fear and misery. The lad turned white.

"Free him," said Labienus. "Captain?" said a man.

"Free him," said Labienus.

The youth's hands were cut free.

"We do not take prisoners," said Labienus to the youth. "You are free to go."

"I do not understand," said the lad. He rubbed his wrists. I had made the bonds almost slave girl tight.

"On behalf of Gnieus Lelius, regent in Ar, and the high council of Ar," said Labienus, "I, as their envoy de facto in the delta, express their regret for the misunderstandings between our states and peoples, and in particular for that resulting in a cruel and unprovoked attack upon an innocent village. There is little to be said in excuse of such an incident but if blood can repay blood, then I think the accounts on that matter are well considered closed."

The youth was speechless. I, too, was rather taken aback by this act of statesmanship. I had hoped for something along these lines, but I had not dared to hope for anything this humbling to Ar, and yet in its way, so grand.

"Those of Cos," said Labienus, "may be your friends or they may not. I do not know. You must make your own judgments on that. One thing, however, I do know, those of Ar are not your enemies."

Labienus then put out his arm, which was taken in hand by Plenius, who then conducted him to a place in the camp.

"You are free to go," I said to the lad.

"He will bring others after us," said a man.

"We will be gone by then," I said.

"You do not speak like those of Ar," said the lad.

"I am from Port Kar," I said.

"The rence," said the lad, "has no quarrel with Port Kar."

"Nor Port Kar with the rence," I said.

"How is it you are with them?" he asked.

"I sought to be of assistance to them," I said. "They are, after all, at war with Cos, as is Port Kar, if not the rence."

"Beware of Cosians," he said. "They, and their hirelings, infest the edges of the delta."

I nodded. I was not pleased to hear this, but I had already suspected it would be so.

"Leave them," he said. "They will never get through."

"Perhaps you would care to tarry a few Ehn," I suggested.

"I should leave," he said.

"My friend, Plenius," I said, "has, I think, saved some hard bread in his pack, a piece or two. It is old and stale now, but you might find it of interest. Have you ever had such?"

"No," he said. "I do not think so."

"Would you care to try some?"

"I think not," he said.

"It can be fetched," I said, "when Plenius is free."

" 'Fetched'?" he said.

"By the female, of course," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"Ina," I said.

She sprang up from the sand and came and knelt before us, her head bowed.

"Is this a slave?" he asked.

"No," I said, "a mere captive."

He looked upon Ina, the beauty in her appropriate posture of submission.

"Ina," I said, "when Plenius is free, ask him if he would give you a piece of hard bread, for myself and my young friend here."

"Yes, my captor," she said, rising from the sand, and hurrying to Plenius, who was near Labienus.

"She obeys promptly," he observed.

"She will be lashed well, if she does not," I said.

"I see," he said.

In a moment or two Ina returned, and knelt. She had with her a small piece of hard bread. It was one of the last two, I think, which Plenius had had. I was grateful to him for his generosity in giving it to us. It was one of the few things we had in the camp that would be likely to seem edible to our rence lad. It, at least, was not raw.

"Break it in two, Ina," I said, "and give our guest the largest half."

"Yes, my captor," she said.

To be sure, it was not by means of the hard bread that I hoped to detain our young friend in the camp for a time.

"Serve first our guest, Ina," I said, correcting her behavior, for she was apparently preparing to serve me first.

"Yes, my captor," she said.

From her knees she offered the lad the larger of the two pieces of hard bread, which he accepted, and then, similarly, served me.

We looked upon Ina, at our feet.

"She is muchly bared," he said.

"By my will," I said.

"I see," said he.

"Men enjoy looking upon the beauty of captives and slaves. Do you not?"

"Yes," he said, hesitantly. Then he said, "Yes!"

"Good," I said.

Ina's hands, she blushing beneath our gaze, stole upward, crossed, to cover her breasts.

"You have not received permission to cover your breasts, Ina," I informed her.

Quickly she brought her hands down, to her thighs. "Forgive me, my captor," she said.

"Your breasts are beautiful," I told her, "and you must show them, if your captors desire."

"Thank you, my captor," she said. "Yes, my captor."

"Or any, or all of you," I said.

"Yes, my captor," she said. "Forgive me, my captor."

"How strong you are with her!" marveled the lad.

"She is female," I explained, a bit puzzled. I was somewhat surprised at his outburst. I gathered that he might not be familiar with women under male domination.

"How beautiful are women," he said.

"Yes," I said. "Will you not sit down and enjoy your bread?"

"I must be going," he said.

I looked at Ina, somewhat sternly.

Quickly she opened her knees, in the sand, trembling.

"Have you ever had a woman?" I asked.

"Perhaps," said he, "I could tarry for a moment."

We sat down and nibbled at the hard bread.

He could not, It seemed, take his eyes from the captive. She knelt very straight, but did not dare to meet his eyes.

"How do you like it?" I inquired.

"She is beautiful!" he said.

"The bread," I said.

"It-it is interesting," he said.

I saw that the lad was polite. Such hard bread, and such rations, are commonly found in the packs of soldiers. Some fellows claim to like it. Plenius, for example, had been hoarding a bit of it for weeks. On the other hand, perhaps it was merely that he could not bring himself to eat it, that he was hoarding it merely as a last resort against the ravages of imminent starvation. Certainly he had volunteered it for our needs quickly enough. On the other hand, he probably did like it. Indeed, I myself was not unfond of such rations, at least upon occasion. To be sure, I would not recommend them for the piece de resistance at an important diplomatic banquet, if only to avoid the possible precipitation of war.

"Ina," said I, "fetch water."

"Yes, my captor!" she said.

We watched her hurry off on her errand.

"Are there such women in your village?" I asked.

"No," said he. "There is nothing like her in the village."

"But surely there are some comely wenches there," I said, "who might, suitably clothed and trained, be much like her."

"Ah!" said he. "Perhaps!" I did not doubt but what he had a maid or two in mind.

We watched Ina going to the well hole, dug in the sand near the shore earlier, into which marsh water might filter, and there kneel down, to fill a small metal bowl.

"Where did you pick her up?" he asked, casually, rather as might a fellow to whom the acquisition of females was a familiar matter.

"In the rence," I smiled.

"I do not think she is a rencer," he said.

"No," I said. "She is a woman from Ar."

"There must be a few such in the rence," he said.

"It would seem so," I said.

"One," said he, "was captured not far from my village, in a purple barge. Her retainers fled."

"Did you see her?" I asked.

"No," he said. "My mother would not let me look upon her, naked in her bonds."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Perhaps she was afraid I would want her," he said. "Perhaps she was afraid you might become a man," I said.

"Perhaps," he said.

"Do you think she was much like that one?" I asked, indicating Ina, who had now filled the bowl.

"No," said the youth, "for that one was a haughty, frigid woman, adjudged unworthy even to be a slave."

"A woman who is haughty and frigid," I said, "need not remain that way. Indeed, it is amusing to take such a woman and turn her into a panting, begging slave."

"This one," said he, "was adjudged unworthy of being a slave."

"On what grounds?" I asked.

"On the basis of her character," he said.

"But in slavery," I said, "it is easy to reform a woman's character. The whip may be used, if necessary."

"Perhaps," he said.

"What was done to her?" I asked.

"She was put out for tharlarion," he said.

"And what happened to her?" I asked.

"I would suppose she was devoured," he said. "Even the pole to which she was tied was uprooted."

"What of that one?" I asked, indicating Ina, now approaching us, holding the bowl, carefully.

"She is much different," he said.

"How?" I asked.

"She is warm, and soft, and exciting and obedient," he said.

"Does she seem to you worthy to be a slave?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"How would you know?" I asked.

"I can tell," he said.

"How?" I asked.

"I have seen slaves," he said.

"There are slaves in your village?" I asked.

"No," he said, "but I was once taken to Ven by my father. There I saw slaves."

"Did you like them?" I asked.

"Yes!" he said.

"And you had one?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

Ina now came before us and knelt, before us, close to us, with the bowl of water.

"There are some slaves in the delta," he said, "here and there, but I have not seen them."

"Your mother would not approve?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Perhaps there are some in the village of Tamrun?" I suggested.

"The women there," he said, "are all kept as slaves. It was done to them two years ago."

"I see," I said.

"My mother will not let me go to that village," he said, "but the older men from my village go."

"I see," I said.

"It is said that five women there wear the disk of Tamrun."

"He must be quite a man," I said.

"In his hut," said he, "he is well served."

"I can imagine," I said.

"It was shortly after that time," said the lad, "that he became one of the great leaders in the rence."

"Interesting," I said. I glanced at Ina. "My captor?" she inquired.

"You may serve our guest," I said.

"In the manner in which I have been taught?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

She made certain her knees were widely spread in the sand, and then she extended her arms, her head down, between them, the bowl held out to our young guest. "Water, captor?" she inquired.

He took the bowl from her and, not taking his eyes off her, drank.

"Unfortunately we have no wine," I said, "and, of course, she is not a slave."

"Oh?" he said.

"I refer to the «Wine-Master» presentation," I said, "in which the slave offers not only wine to the master, but herself, and her beauty, for his consideration."

"Once in Ven I was proffered wine by a slave."

"Then you understand the matter," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Excellent," I said.

"You are very generous," he said.

"Not at all," I said.

Ina shrank back.

"As you are still a free woman, Ina," I said, "and not a slave, an animal, you still have a permissible interest in political matters."

"My captor?" she said.

"Doubtless you are eager to do your bit to improve relations between the rence and Ar," I said.

"Of course," she said, frightened.

"And in any event," I said, "as you are a captive, you have no say in such matters."

"Of course not," she said.

"You will give me what I wish?" the youth asked Ina. She was, after all, a free woman.

"You are a male and I am a captive so I must give you whatever you wish," she said.

"And you will try to do very well, won't you, Ina?" I inquired.

"Yes, my captor!" she said, frightened.

"I do not think my mother would approve of this," he said.

"I doubt that your father would mind," I said.

"I do not think so," he said.

"What do you think he would do, if he were you, and here in this situation?" I asked.

"True!" he said.

Ina shrank back, again, in the sand, frightened.

He could not take his eyes from her. She was the sort of woman that it is very difficult not to look at and, indeed, to feast one's eyes upon. In the last several days, bit by bit, she had become in effect slave soft, and slave beautiful. There are dangers, of course, in a woman becoming so soft and beautiful. Men become restless and eager in their presence, and often find it difficult to control themselves.

"I have had only one woman before, in Ven," he said to me.

"Do not worry about it," I said.

"I did have her seven times," he said.

"There you are," I said.

"But she was a slave," he said.

"That is all right," I said.

"My point," said he, "is that I have never made love to a free woman."

"That is all right," I said.

"I do not know how to make love to a free woman," he said.

"Do not worry about it," I said. "There is commonly little worthy of that name which takes place with free women."

"Oh?" he said.

"Yes," I said. "They are too much concerned with their status, dignity, freedom and independence to be any good in the furs."

"I warn you, female," said he, "I do not know how to make love to a free woman."

"Use me then as a slave," she said.

"With your permission?" he inquired.

"Of course," I said. "And, too, do not be hesitant as I assure you that pretty little Ina is already familiar with some of the rude, imperious usages to which, commonly, only slaves are subjected."

"Excellent," he said.

I had done these things to her, of course, not only because I, personally, like most men, relate most powerfully, deliciously and rewardingly to women in the mode of nature, as master to slave, but because I thought this might prove to be in Ina's best interests, should the burning iron ever be pressed into her flesh. Not all Gorean masters, for example, are patient with new slaves. Also, it is understandable that many women find it difficult, at first, to adjust to the dramatic volte-face involved in the transition from a lofty, respected free woman to that of a property at the feet of a master. I had hoped I might, in some degree, have mitigated the hazards of this transition in the case of Ina, should it ever occur. Already, then, I had taught her something of obedience, service and placation.

The youth thrust the last of the hard bread in his mouth, took another swig of water from the bowl, put it down, leaped up, and seized Ina by the hair, and then, holding her by the hair, her head at his waist, dragged her, she gasping, into some nearby shrubbery. Before she was quite there I did see her face, once, she looking at me, astonished, wincing, as she hurried beside her young use-master to the place of his choosing.

I myself then finished the hard bread and also the water in the bowl.

It was toward evening when the youth, refreshed and ebullient, emerged from the shrubbery.

"You wished to detain me, didn't you?" he asked, jovially.

"I would not have insisted you remain in the camp," I said, "but it is true that I preferred that you not rejoin your fellows until after our departure."

"I do not object," he said. He turned about, to watch Ina emerge from the shrubbery. She was crawling, on all fours. "She is not to stand, until after I have left the camp," he said.

"Excellent," I said.

He snapped his fingers and indicated that Ina should approach us. She did so and then looked up at us.

"I forgot to send a whip into the shrubbery with you," I said.

"It was not necessary," he said.

"Good," I said.

Ina looked down, frightened.

"We need more such as she, only true slaves, in the delta," he said.

"She herself would look well, branded and collared, wouldn't she?" I asked.

We regarded Ina.

"Yes," he said.

She trembled.

"She is slave exciting," he said.

"Or at least as slave exciting as a woman can be who is not a slave," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"What are you thinking of?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said.

"Do you care to speak of it?" I asked.

"I was thinking of my father and my mother," he said.

"Oh?" I said.

"And how my father is held in, inhibited and frustrated, by my mother."

"Keep your head down," I said to Ina.

Immediately she lowered her head again.

The young man continued to regard the captive. "You are thinking," I said, "of how well your mother would look at your father's feet, branded and in a collar."

"I love her very much," he said, "but it is where she belongs."

"I have no doubt about it," I said.

"Perhaps I shall speak to my father," he said.

"The decision, of course, is his," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"If women were there," I said, "it would certainly be easier for their sons to become men."

"True," he said.

Mothers in Tharna, of course, are kept as slaves, indeed, they are not merely kept as slaves; they are slaves.

"I wish you well," I said.

"How did you know I was spying on you?" he asked.

"The tor shrub," I said, "does not grow higher than a man's waist."

"I was stupid," he said.

"No," I said, "you were careless."

"It was a mistake," he said.

"Yes, it was a mistake," I said.

"Such a mistake," he said, "might cost a man his life."

"It is possible," I said.

"I shall not make it again," he said.

"Good," I said.

"You are not my enemy, are you?" he asked.

"No," I said. "Nor are the others here."

"My thanks," said he, "for the repast."

"Such as it was," I said.

"Thanks, too," said he, "for the use of the blond female."

"You are more than welcome," I said.

"I wish you well," he said.

"I wish you well," I said.

He then turned, and left the camp.

Plenius came up to me. "We must leave soon," he said. "Yes," I said. I did not think that the youth would return with his fellows, to attack us, but they probably had rence craft and could move much more quickly than we in the marsh. Accordingly I would take our next trek southwest, for they would, I supposed, assume we would continue south, or, fearing their pursuit, perhaps even move east, away from the point at which we had caught the lad spying on the camp. To be sure, I did not think it would be easy to track men such as those I was now with in the delta. They had become wise to the ways of the marsh. They would be terribly dangerous, now, to follow.

Ina looked up at me.

"You may speak," I informed her.

"He is gone," she said. "I may now rise to my feet."

"Remain on all fours," I told her.

"Yes, my captor," she said.

Her mien seemed a little tense, strained.

"Did you serve our young guest well?" I asked.

"I did my best," she said. "I think he was pleased. At least his cries, and grunts, of pleasure would suggest that he was not dissatisfied."

"Good," I said. To be sure, I had heard several of these sounds emanating from the shrubbery.

"But his usages were brief, and abrupt," she said.

"He is a lad," I said.

"But I," she said, "am a woman."

"Did you respond to him?" I asked.

"I could not help myself," she said. "Apparently you have trained my body in that fashion."

"You do almost all of that yourself," I said.

"But I was given little choice," she said.

"True," I said.

"But time and again," she said, "I was not granted my full release."

"He is a lad," I said.

"In the end," she said, "he succeeded, apart from obtaining his own brief pleasures, in doing little more than arousing me."

"Captives," I said, "are next to nothing, as slaves are nothing. The captive, and the slave, may be done with as one pleases. The captive, like the slave, must accept usages of any sort to which captors, or masters, are pleased to subject them. Entitled to expect little if they are captives, and nothing if they are slaves, let them rejoice if they receive anything. Be pleased that you were not beaten."

"Yes my captor," she said.

To be sure the youth, had it not been, presumably, for his haste, or lack of experience, might have done far better for himself than he had. It is not that it is not fully appropriate for captives and slaves to be occasionally subjected to brief, casual and even frustrating usages, if only to remind them that they are captives or slaves, but that the youth, had he taken care to enforce lengthy and exquisite ecstasies on the captive would have discovered that his own pleasures would have been marvelously deepened, lengthened and multiplied. One of the great pleasures in the mastery, increasing the sense of its joy and power, is forcing the female to experience, at your will, and convenience, incredible pleasures, carrying her up and down, and through, a series of slave orgasms, making her more and more helpless, until she is irremediably yours, lost in the throes of her submission ecstasies.

"We must leave soon," I said. "They are breaking camp even now."

"But you cannot leave me in this state!" she said.

"On your belly," I said.

"Yes!" she said, delightedly, going to her belly in the sand.

I knelt over the back of her thighs.

"Captor?" she asked.

I reached beneath her belly, in the sand, and put a loop of binding fiber about her.

"Oh!" she said.

I had pulled the cord snugly up, about her waist, and knotted it behind the small of her back.

I then drew her hands up, behind her back.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I am tying your hands behind your back," I said, fastening them there, using the two free ends of the cord as a double cord.

I then rose to my feet.

She turned to her left shoulder in the sand, looking up at me, reproachfully. "What is the meaning of this?" she asked.

"We are breaking camp," I said. "I am afraid, until morning, pretty Ina, you will just have to squirm a little."

"No!" she said.

"You may kneel," I said.

She struggled to a kneeling position.

"Sometimes slave girls," I said, "are aroused and then put in their kennels with their hands braceleted behind their backs, held there with a belly chain, or a belly cord. Much the same effect is achieved when they are chained by the neck in a slave bin, on the straw, their wrists chained to their holding collar."

She regarded me, with horror.

"You may rise to your feet," I said. "We trek within the Ehn."

She struggled to her feet.

"Will it be necessary to put you in a leading halter?" I asked.

"No!" she said.

"We are ready," said Plenius.

"We will trek southwest," I said.

"Southwest?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"The young rencer was caught to the west of the camp, was he not?" asked Labienus, the hand of Titus on his arm.

"Yes," said Plenius.

"Do as Tarl says," said Labienus.

"In three or four days we will make our adjustments southward," I said.

"Let us trek," said Plenius.

We then left the sand island. Several times in the first two or three Ahn, Ina, finding her way to my side, pressed herself against me, piteously. Each time I thrust her back. She continued to follow me very closely. Sometimes she would make a tiny moaning noise, not unlike one of the unvocalized need signals of a slave girl.

Once, past midnight, while we stopped to rest, she came very close to me, and looked up at me, piteously. I looked down at her face in the moonlight, streaked with tears.

"May I speak?" she asked. "Yes," I said.

"I am needful!" she whispered.

"Then doubtless you will be warm in the morning," I said.

Such answers are sometimes given to the girls in the kennels, pressing their tear-stained faces and bodies against the bars, their hands braceleted behind them, or the girls in the slave bins, sitting or kneeling, their small hands twisting at their throats, in their manacles.

"I am already aflame," she said, "ragingly aflame!"

"We trek," I said.

"You will give me relief in the morning!" she said.

"Perhaps," I said, "perhaps not."

She moaned. "I am not a slave," she whispered.

"Fortunately you are not," I said, "or you would know what the miseries of deprivation could be."

She looked at me with horror.

"They strive well, to please their masters," I said.

"And what would a slave do in the morning?" she asked.

"One in your situation," I asked, "one not limited by the length of her chain or the placement of her kennel bars?"

"Yes," she said.

"I suppose she might crawl to me, or to another, on her knees," I said, "begging."

"I beg now!" she said.

"In the morning," I said, "you will doubtless beg harder."

"In the morning," she sobbed, "I will crawl to you on my knees, begging."

"But why would you do that?" I asked.

"Can you not guess?" she sobbed.

I then lifted my hand in the moonlight, signaling that we would now resume the trek.