Several folks were looking at me in a strange way. I quickened my pace, staring ahead.

" 'It is noon!' " called out Hurtha. Then he stopped, and began to laugh. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

Some folks passed us.

"I told you it was funny," laughed Hurtha, bent over.

"Yes?" I said.

"Surely the humor is not too subtle for you?" he asked suddenly, startled.

"I am not an Alar," I admitted.

Boabissia laughed merrily, but I thought, a bit uneasily, uncertainly.

'You see," explained Hurtha, patiently, "I did not say it was morning. I said it was noon."

"Yes?" I said.

"So you would expect me to say morning, but you see, it is already past morning. I said it was noon.

"Oh, yes," I said, thinking that perhaps I had a glimmer (pg. 210) of his point, "excellent, excellent." Many Goreans arise quite early. Perhaps it is well to keep that in mind. It may help somewhat, though perhaps not significantly. Boabissia made a noise, one I think intended to desperately simulate a laugh. She was, I am sure, merely attempting to improve her claim as to being an Alar. Feiqa, happily, laboring under no such onus, looked aghast.

"We are here," I said, happily, "at the gate!"

Certain of the folks passed through the great gate of Torcadino were searched rather thoroughly. Some of the women, probably because the guards were interested in seeing them, were stripped stark naked, standing on the stones before the portal and, to their dismay, examined with Gorean efficiency. Certain coins and rings were found. After such a search a woman is sometimes good for nothing more than being a slave. But they were thrust through the gate, their clothes then clutched in their hands. Boabissia, interestingly, though quite comely, was spared this indignity. Some objects were confiscated from various folks, men and women, but little, really, was taken. I began to suspect that the treatment this group was receiving was, on the whole, little more than pro forma.

I also suspected, after a few Ehn, that Boabissia's immunity from Gorean Strip Search, in spite of the promise of pleasure to the guards of such a search, might be due to her party, that she was with us. The letters of the officer were now within my sheath. This tightened the draw, but the hiding place, considering the few options at my disposal, seemed a sensible one. Papers can be easily detected within a tunic or cloak linings. To be sure, if one has time, the messages can be written on cloth within the linings, and then should elude search, unless the garment is torn open. There are many possible hiding places for messages or valuables, of course. A few that might be mentioned are false heels or divided soles in sandals, tiny secret compartments in rings, brooches, ornate hair pins, hollow combs, fibulae, studs and clasps. The pommels of some swords are made, too, in such a way as to unscrew, revealing such a compartment. Similarly walking sticks and staffs often have one or more such (pg. 211) compartments in them, reached by unscrewing various sections of the stick or staff. Needless to say, some of these, too, contain, daggers or thrusting swords. Such concealed compartments and weapons, and sometimes even builder's glasses, sun chronometers, and compasses, and such, are found in such objects. It is cultural for white-clad pilgrims from certain cities to carry such staffs, often entwined with flowers, in pilgrimages to the Sardar. Such folks are not as harmless as they might seem, as various brigands have learned to their sorrow.

"You are together, all of you?" asked a guard.

"Yes," I said.

"Pass," he said.

In moments we were past the great gate, and blinking against the sun, outside the walls of Torcadino. I looked back. The walls, from this close to them, the fall sun bright on them, seemed very high and formidable. No common scaling ladders could ascend them. Too, numerous, low, horizontal wall slots, some three or four inches in height, through which metal-shod poles, stout metal crescents at their tips, could be thrust, and maneuvered, marked their bleakness. Such poles, with little danger to the defenders, at sufficient heights, where sufficient leverages can be exerted, address themselves to the enemy's ladders. Their effects are often devastating. The slots through which the poles are thrust may serve also, of course, as arrow ports. Individuals behind us were still coming through the gate. I then turned my eyes forward. I could see, some two hundred yards or so away, pennons of Cos, marking presumably the first row of siege trenches.

My hand I inadvertently against the sheath of my sword. It was there that I had concealed the documents I carried.

"You were not searched," said a small fellow, near me. He had a mustache, like string, and narrow eyes. He had a pack on his back.

"Many were not searched," I said.

He then continued on his way, toward the pennons in the distance.

(pg. 212) "What are we to do?" asked Boabissia, uneasily.

"Keep moving," said a soldier, outside the gate, pointing toward the pennons.

Boabissia and I, then, followed by Hurtha and Feiqa, she bearing my pack, set out, with others, toward the pennons. "I think there will be little difficulty in clearing the lines of Cos," I said. "Refugees, I suspect, will be sped on their way. I am not sure what would be the best way to approach Ar. We might reach the Argentum Road and take it east to the Viktel Aria. We would then trek south to Ar."

"That is a longer route, is it not?" asked Boabissia.

"Yes," I said.

"Why take it?" she asked.

"It is not the route we might be expected to take," I said.

"Are you afraid?" she asked.

"I am uneasy," I said.

"Could we not trek directly to Ar, across country?" she asked.

"If I were alone, I would." I said.

"I am not afraid," she said.

"In the open country, there may be sleen," I said, "particularly after dark."

"Oh," she said.

"Too," I said, "you are pretty."

"What has that to do with it?" she asked.

"Would you like to be a naked slave of peasants, a community slave, in a peasant village," I asked, "and wear a rope collar, and be taught to hoe weeds and pull a plow, and spend your nights in a sunken cage?"

"No!" she said.

"To be sure, they would probably sell you in a town, sooner or later, when they needed drinking money," I said.

She shuddered.

"I think, however," I said, "we shall take the most direct civilized route from here to Ar."

"Why?" she asked.

"To save time," I said. "Time, I think, is important."

"As you say," she said.

(pg. 213) "We will take, then, that route called the Eastern Road, or Eastern Way," I said.

"That is the route called the Treasure Road, is it not?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Why is it called that?" she asked.

"Because of the riches, and slaves, and such, often transported upon it," I said.

"I see," she said, uneasily.

"Doubtless you will see many slave caravans," I said, "and, too, perhaps, the girls of poorer merchants, many women being marched on foot, chained in coffle, sometimes gagged and blindfolded."

"Oh," she said, uneasily.

"Splendid!" said Hurtha.

I glanced back at Feiqa, who, bearing my pack, looked quickly down.

"Single file here," called a solider of Cos, near the pennons. "Watch your step."

A long plank had been laid across the first of the siege ditches.

The small fellow with the narrow eyes and the mustache like string was ahead of us. He went across the plank. I then crossed it, too, the plank bending under my weight, and was followed by Boabissia, and Hurtha, and Feiqa.

"That way," said the soldier, pointing.

We were in a few Ehn, over other entrenchments, and were then near the hurdles commanding the interior ditches. Interspersed among these was an occasional lookout tower, composed of poles and planks, the lashed poles supporting a horizontal platform of planks, from which a watch could be kept on the gate of Torcadino. At night fires would be set and lanterns hung at various points about the siegeworks.

"That way," said a soldier, directing us.

We were then within the perimeters of the Cosian camp. Most of the tents were circular, with low, sloping tops. Many were brightly colored, and set with bold stripes, and various (pg. 214) striking designs and patterns. Goreans tend to be fond of such things. A Gorean camp is often a spectacular sight, with its arrays of silks and flags, even from a distance. They also tend to be fond of fabrics stimulatory to the touch, spices tantalizing to their taste, strong, powerful melodies, and beautiful females. In this they make clear their primitiveness, and their vitality and health. The streets were laid out geometrically. This is usually done by engineers, with surveying cords.

"Look," said Boabissia.

"I see," I said.

Seeing herself the object of our attention the girl lying on her side in the mud shrank back, pressing her back against the heavy stake, some eight inches in diameter, it sunk deeply in the mud. She did not meet our eyes. She was naked, and dirty. She was chained to the stake by a heavy chain, it looped three times about the stake, tight in a groove, and bolted into place, then looped twice about her neck and fastened there by a padlock. She could not move more than four feet from the stake.

"Girl," I said, to her.

She, addressed, scrambled to her knees. She kept her head down. She whimpered.

"She does not speak," said Boabissia.

"She is perhaps under the discipline of the she-quadruped," I said.

The girl whimpered, looking at us, nodding her head affirmatively. Then she put her head down again.

"Oh," said Boabissia. In this discipline the female is forbidden human speech. She is also forbidden human posture, in the sense that she is not allowed to rise to her feet. Her locomotion, unless commanded to roll, or put under similar commands, suitable for a pet, will be on all fours. Her food will be thrown to her, or put in pans on the ground. In either case, she must feed without the use of her hands. She may also, of course, be fed by hand, but, again, will not be permitted to touch the food with her hands. She may be taught tricks. Sometimes these are taught as functions of arbitrary sounds, so that she must learn them as any animal might, without the benefit of an earlier understanding of the (pg. 215) words used. If she is slow to learn, of course, she is punished, as would any other animal. When used, too, it will commonly be in the modality of the she-quadruped. This discipline is often used as a punishment, but it may also figure in the training of a new girl. It helps her to understand what she now is, an animal totally subject to her master. After some time, sometimes as little as a few Ahn, in this discipline, she begs mutely, pleadingly, as eloquently as she can, to be permitted to serve her master in fashions more typical of the normal female slave, fashions in which her bondage, because of the greater complexities and latitudes of dutifulness and subservience possible with human activity, speech and posture, for example, dance, beginning at least on her feet, and song, may be even more deliciously complete and pleasing to him. To make certain that there are no possible confusions or misunderstandings involved in such cases the master usually gives the female a brief opportunity to speak, usually only for a few Ihn, in which she must make her pleas, hoping to win his favor. If he is not satisfied with her pleas, of course, she is returned promptly to her former discipline. Too, for wasting his time, she might be exposed to other disciplines, as well, usually the lash.

We continued on, through the camp. In a few Ehn, as we were making our way through a corner of the camp, we would presumably encounter some contravallation, some outer lines or ditches, setup to protect the besiegers against possible attack by an outside, relieving force.

"There," said Hurtha, pointing, "there are the pens for camp girls."

He had indicated a fenced enclosure, within which were various smaller enclosures, and some cages. In such areas, there was probably more than one in a camp of this size, public girls are kept, slaves for the pleasures of the soldiers. The Gorean seldom does without women. Such girls are usually supplied in groups by contract slavers, for the course of given campaigns. They may be used in their enclosures or, more commonly, they are sent to the tents of the men who rent them, usually for the night. In the morning they return to their masters. Outside the entrance to this enclosure, where (pg. 216) the girls could see it, coming and going, was a simple structure of three heavy, squared timbers, two of which were upright, and the third fixed upon them, crosswise, in the manner of a lintel. In the underside of the horizontal beam there was fixed a stout ring, from which cords dangled. In these cords, her wrists crossed and bound over her head, there was now a fair prisoner. On the outside surface of the horizontal beam, the side facing us, there were two hooks, over which there hung a sign. The hooks are permanent fixtures, the signs may be changed, in one wishes to use them at all, depending on the error, deficiency or offense. This sign read, "I was not fully pleasing to my master of the night. Punish me. Use whip at left." To the girl's left, on the vertical beam there, suspended from a hook, was a five-stranded Gorean slave lash.

"Wait," said Boabissia.

"Yes?" I said.

"She was not fully pleasing," said Boabissia.

The girl tensed in the cords, hearing us behind her.

"It would seem not," I said.

"Are you not going to strike her?" asked Boabissia.

"I think she has already been well punished," I said.

Certainly the girl's back suggested that. To be sure, most of those stripes had probably been put on her earlier by her master, that he might assure himself that no matter what happened later in the day, the girl would be brought to understand that anything less than perfect performance was not to be tolerated in a female slave. The female slave is not permitted flaws in her service. She is not purchased for that. They will not escape notice, or correction.

"Men are weak," said Boabissia. She went to the hook and removed the lash. "Girl," she said.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl, frightened.

"Let her go," I said. "You can see she has been liberally whipped."

"What are you?" asked Boabissia.

(pg. 217) "A slave, Mistress," said the girl, trembling in the confining cords. Her small hands twisted above the tight loops.

"Then it is up to you to be pleasing," said Boabissia.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"Fully pleasing," said Boabissia.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"But you were not," said Boabissia.

"No, Mistress," said the girl, trembling.

"You must then be punished," said Boabissia.

"Yes, Mistress," moaned the girl.

"She has already been punished," I said to Boabissia. "Show her mercy."

"No," said Boabissia.