How very much she looks like a slave at his feet, I thought.

But then, of late, I reminded myself, how much the Lady Constanzia seemed to be like a slave at the feet of any man.

She had had her slave wine. I did not fear now, to leave her at the ring. On the other hand, I thought she would, indeed, be safe in such a place. It was not merely that she was chained there, for safekeeping, but that it was a very public place. Also, the scarlet-clad figure had visited her there several times before and had never, in spite of what I suspected were certain provocations, forced her. It would not have been wise to have done so, of course, for he was not of this city. The forcing of a slave, indeed, even the use of an unoffered slave, by a stranger, an outlander, so to speak, might be taken as some form of presumption or insult. Furthermore, even within a city, such things are often regarded as incivilities, unless taken, perhaps, as legitimate portions of a free man's punishment of an errant slave, say, perhaps, one who might have been regarded as being insufficiently deferential. These men have many ways of reminding us that we are slaves, and one of them is our use. But I thought there might be an even more grievous reason for the scarlet-clad figure's restraint in the matter of lovely, fetching "Tuta." I conjectured that he was the sort of man who would want to own a slave, one who would want to have her fully his, before putting her to his pleasure. I did not know on what business, incidentally, the scarlet-clad figure was in the city.

Doubtless it must be soon concluded. I would not have advised him to dally beyond his welcome.

Suspicion of strangers, of outlanders, seems to come very easily to the men of this world. Too, neither the Lady Constanzia nor I knew the name of the stranger, nor even his city. She, as a putative slave, and I, as an actual slave, would not dare to inquire into such matters. One does not wish to be kicked or cuffed. Curiosity, it is said, is not becoming in kajirae.

I quickly turned about and hurried over the bridge, toward the docking area.

NINETEEN

There were some folk still crossing the bridge, though fewer now that the tams had alighted.

Some slave girls, too, scurried across the bridge, doubtless eager to see the returned raiders, the mighty mounts, the harvested riches of the venture's predations. I joined them. Slave girls often have the run of the city. On the other hand, male slaves seldom do, for obvious reasons.

An exception is the male silk slave, usually the male pleasure slave of a rich woman, but sometimes one belonging to a female entrepreneur, in whose brothel, one specializing in the tastes of women, he serves.

Some men are brought from Earth here for such purposes I have heard, but I do not know if it is true.

There were certainly no males in my group. We were all women. Had there been males in our group I think they would have soon been spoiled for such an application. Seeing women like us, in the power of men, they would doubtless have soon a.s.sumed the whip and become masters.

More than a hundred and fifty tarns had landed in the docking area.

Guards held the crowds back. Loot was being unloaded. There was music in the docking area, adding to the celebration.

In the city, to my right, the bars, which normally signify times and alarms were sounding in jubilation.

"See! See!" cried men in the crowd.

Vessels of gold were lifted by raiders, displaying them to the crowd.

Children squirmed in and out among the people.

Many were the colorful robes.

Boxes were being lifted down to waiting hands.

Some of the mighty saddle birds, like gigantic, crested hawks, they are called "tarns," moved about uneasily. Sometimes wings would snap and air would rush about.

Once or twice one or another of these mighty creatures put back its head and screamed to the clouds.

The music continued. The bars continued to sound, rejoicing.

I saw some of the captives, stripped women, hooded, being led forth, in their chains, from cage baskets, slung to the harnesses of the mighty birds. The women moved uncertainly, unsteadily. Doubtless they were bewildered, confused. Incidentally, even free men, brought to this city on diplomatic missions, on commercial ventures, and such, are brought here hooded.

The location of the city is supposedly a secret, known only to its citizens. Only they can come and go unhooded. Naturally, too, there are numerous outposts of the city in the mountains, at which tarnsmen are always on the alert. It is the mission of these men to keep the secret of the city. Such outposts const.i.tute the nodes of an extensive system of reconnaissance and surveillance. From them frequent, randomized patrols are mounted. From them companies of tarn cavalry may be launched to intercept and destroy intruders.

Unauthorized strangers risk their lives by even approaching such places. Cleared entrants, usually cleared in their own cities, flying under appropriate pa.s.sage banners, report to them, for hooding and transport.

Few, incidentally, except in armed parties, traverse the mountains on foot. It is difficult and dangerous to do so. They are not only rugged and precipitous, but are apparently alive with animals, such as rock panthers and sleen. It is said that none may pa.s.s unauthorized the lines of interdiction, and that, of those who do, none are to return.

I was jostled in the crowd, but none, it seemed, took note of me. Free and slave were there in zest commingled.

"Stay back! Stay back!" called a guard.

One raider, still mounted on the tarn, reached into a saddle sack and hurled a handful of jewels high over the crowd. They rained down. People reached and scrambled for them, laughing. It would not do, of course, for slaves to seek such stones.

They are not for us. We would not wish our hands cut off. In many cities we are not permitted to touch money. In many it is a capital offense for us to touch a weapon.

It was hard for me to see in the crowd, for the robes and hoods.

"Oh!" I said, pinched by someone.

I heard a coa.r.s.e male laugh.

One does not complain, of course, as one is slave. Such small attentions, a pinch, a touch, a stolen kiss, pressed perhaps to the side of one's neck, as one is briefly held, helplessly, must be expected. Indeed, in their way, they are flatteries. The slave who does not elicit such attentions, who is not deemed of sufficient interest to warrant them, may suspect that she will soon be placed by her master upon the block.

I squirmed to a new place in the crowd.

The crowd surged about me.

I could see very little, for the men and, indeed, most of the boys, were much taller than I.

The women were muchly of my own size, but even there, the ornateness of the robes, the height of the hoods, sometimes made it difficult to see. I was irritated with them, the free women.

They were so ornately, so complexly robed, whereas I had only my slave frock, that scandalously brief, muchly revealing, single piece of cloth, and my collar. But I did not think they were so different from me, really, they, such proud things, so gorgeously bedecked, so smug under those layers of cloth. Beneath the protective, shielding casings of those stiff brocades were there not terrains and lat.i.tudes which, shorn of their armor, would prove as vulnerable and soft as mine? I was momentarily blinded by a flash of light, the sun reflected from a huge silver plate, perhaps a yard in width, held over his head by a mounted raider. The flash was not unlike that from mirrors used as signal devices in the mountains. I had seen such flashes occasionally from the bal.u.s.trade, presumably the routine signals of guards. Smoke signals, too, are apparently sometimes used, but I had not seen them from the bal.u.s.trade. At night, beacon fires, which may be shielded and then unshielded, in codes, may be used. The flash of the mirrors, the sight of the smoke signal, the glimpse of a fire, such things, it might be recollected, convey their message at the speed of light, far faster than a tam can fly, incomparably more swift, even, than the flighted sound of a distant bar.

There were exclamations of astonishment from the crowd. Such a plate might have come from a palace.

Raiders such as these are often gone several days, sometimes even for a season. They have concealed loot camps, many times actually within enemy territory. Then, sooner or later, after they have conducted their raids, they gather together their booty and return home. To be sure, much of the booty may have been disposed of earlier, in other places, but one suspects, the vanity of the men of this world being such, that enough will be retained for a goodly showing on the docks. And, of course, in any event, the saddlebags bulge with gold obtained from the earlier dispositions of loot. One form of booty, on the other hand, does tend to be brought to the city, and that is female booty. This city serves as a clearinghouse for a great deal of such merchandise. In it there are many markets in which such goods are disposed of, on both a wholesale and retail basis.

Some men, somewhere, began singing.

Men from the city were near the front of the line of tams, conferring there with one who may have been the expedition's leader, and certain others. Such expeditions are seldom purely acquisitive in nature. They may also gather information of political or strategic interest. Even tiny bits of information can be significant, and a number of bits of information, each seemingly insignificant and unrelated to others, sometimes, properly organized and understood, like a suddenly a.s.sembled jigsaw puzzle, may yield a picture which is not only clear but meaningful.

But now, I supposed, they were engaged in only general inquiries.

Indeed, they might be doing little more now than congratulating the leader, and his officers, on their successful return Full reports could be later rendered.

I saw a fellow standing in the stirrups and swinging a huge double strand of pearls about his head, again and again, and then he flung it out, far over the crowd. It was seized by a dozen hands. It burst. It showered about.

I supposed some of this casting of loot to the crowd was no more than the overflow of good spirits, a manner of celebration, of contributing to the general jubilation. But, too, I suspect, that for some, at least, it represented a release of tension, and const.i.tuted a form of relief. It might have been, too, something of an offering of thanks, so to speak, to the fates, or the G.o.ds, or the Priest-Kings, whoever they may be, for a safe return. More than one of these fellows had knelt down and kissed the tiles of the docking area, stones of his native city. It is not always the case, you see, that everyone returns from such expeditions.

Indeed, sometimes the expedition, itself, does not return.

Captives were now being knelt in lines, perpendicular to the long docking area, facing the warehouses.

They were still hooded.

They were being chained together, by the neck, beginning, of course, at the back of the lines.

That is customary. It was in such a way that I, in the corridor of the pens, had first been added to a neck chain. This produces apprehension in a girl, and she is not permitted to turn her head. Then the collar is on her. But, too, she is less likely to bolt.

And when the collar is on her it is too late to bolt. She is then part of the coffle. To be sure, these slaves were hooded, and hooded slaves, like other sorts of animals, are less likely to bolt.

Some other chains, too, were being rearranged. The hands of those who had been front-shackled were now being backshackled, shackled behind their backs. No longer, as they now were, would they be able to use their hands to feed themselves. Too, back-shackling better impresses her helplessness on a captive. There were several such lines of captives. In each line there were fifteen to twenty captives. As each line was completed, the captives, now beads on the "slaver's necklace," would be unhooded.

"Beautiful!" called a man. Perhaps he saw one on which he intended to bid.

Captives trembled in their chains.

Interestingly they were all free women. At that time I did not realize how unusual that was, not knowing at that time that "slave strikes" are almost always directed against slaves. This was the result, as it turned out, I would later learn, of a special situation. It was a response to a presumed insult on the part of an administrator of a distant city, something to the effect that those of this city, whose name I did not yet know, were at best cowards and petty thieves, capable of no more than making off with an occasional slave.

Accordingly that city, smug in its supposed security, had been saved for last, for the final strike of the expedition. The result of the administrator's indiscreet remark was that now more than four hundred of that city's free women, almost all of high caste as it turned out, were now on their knees, shackled, on the docking area. A considerable amount of plunder, presumably for good measure, had been acquired, as well. If slaves had been taken, they had been disposed of elsewhere. That is not hard to do, as there is always a market for them. Too, what room would there have been for slaves? The numerous baskets, the arrayed booty rings, the varieties of saddle straps, and such, were already "taken," so to speak-by free women. I doubted that the administrator of the offending town would again be so bold, so unguarded, in his remarks on those of this city. Too, the nature of the strike had been intended as an insult, saying, so to speak, "You must understand that your women are ours, whether slave or free, if we deign to take them.

We usually take your slaves for they are far better than your free women, but, this time, we will make an exception. We will take, you see, what women of yours we please. You cannot stop us."

Involved, it seems was a matter of umbrage, one of offended pride, indeed, a matter construed somehow, correctly or incorrectly, as one of honor.

When I became clear on these things later I understood, to my uneasiness, how ruthless and powerful, and bold and skilled, how proud and dangerous, how particular, how touchy, how sensitive, how easily angered, how difficult to satisfy, the men of this city were.

Surely in this city a girl would have to be very careful in her collar.

These men were dangerous, and mighty.

They would not be easy masters.

They would know how to get the most from a trembling, fearful slave.

But to what other sort of man would a girl wish to belong? Most of the women, I supposed, were soon destined for the block.

Perhaps some would be held out for special purposes, gifts, and such. Perhaps some would be retained by the raiders themselves, who might enjoy training them, teaching them their duties, acquainting them with the nature of their new life.

"Excellent!" called out various men.

The catch was good, I gathered.

Even I had to admit that several of the women were quite beautiful.

They would doubtless make superb slaves.

The slave, of course, already knows how to please. The free woman must learn.

Some men enjoy teaching them.

To be sure, not every woman was on a chain. Some knelt, even frontshackled, in sink, head down, near the very talons of the great birds. These were mainly those who had been tied to booty rings or bound across the leather itself. Most were now unhooded.

Some slaves of the raiders had been permitted across the lines and now swam with rapture in the arms of their masters.

I saw one fellow displaying a catch to a slave. "What do you think of her!" he asked. It was a slim captive. She was a brunette. She was in sink. Her wrists, frontshackled, as is common in sirik, were pulled high over her head. "Pretty," admitted the raider's slave. He then put his left hand on the side of the captive's waist and, with her wrists enfolded in his grasp, bent her backwards, to exhibit the bow of her delights. She was exquisite. Her hair hung back and down.

"Yes, very pretty," granted his slave, I thought apprehensively, reluctantly. And, indeed, who could blame her? "Shall we keep her?" asked the raider. "No, no," cried the slave. "Sell her. Sell her!"

I went to my hands and knees to crawl forward in the crowd, that I might the better see. If I knelt in the front, as were many other girls, I should be able to see quite well. It was only a matter of getting there. If one crawls, one is scarcely noticed. On the other hand, it is certainly not advisable to push past free persons. I was in a state collar with my name on it. I was quite vulnerable.

"Oh!" I said, in pain, suffering the petulant blow of a free woman's slipper.

But then I had come to the guards' line. A free man even moved a little to the side, that I might pa.s.s him.

"Thank you, Master!" I said, gratefully.

Some chests were being brought forward through the crowd, from the warehouses. Loot was being recorded, and entered into them. They were then locked, and the lids sealed with wax.

Signet rings, cylinder seals, and such, impressed their marks into the warm wax.

I was on all fours, at the front edge of the crowd.

"Stand," suggested the free man. "You will be able to see bet-ten."

"Thank you, Master," I said, rising to my feet. He placed me before him. He could see easily over my head.

Still, bars in the city sounded.

Reunions, I saw, took place.

Here and there I heard vendors hawking goods. One had pastries, another sweets. Another fellow, somewhere, was selling apricots.

One of the captives in one of the nearby lines suddenly screamed, and struggled, in her chains, to her feet. As she was on a common chain, neck-coffled on it, her action dragged on the neck chains of the girl behind her and before her, half pulling the one behind her to her feet, jerking back, twisting, causing to cry out with pain, the one before her. Swiftly the lash fell, once, twice, sharply on her, and she was again on her knees, her head down, sobbing, cowering, making herself as small as possible, fearing only that she might be again subjected to the lash's kiss.

"They learn quickly," said the man behind me.

"Yes, Master," I averred. It was true. We learn quickly. It does not take us long to understand that we are slaves, fully, and helplessly, and that is all there is to it.

One of the tarns suddenly snapped its wings and a great rush of air blasted toward us. My hair blew back and the tunic was whipped back on my body. The garments and robes of the free persons, too, were swept back. Women cried out and held their veils.

Some put down their heads, clinging to the collar of their robes and their hoods. Dust and tiny particles pelted us.

There was laughter in the crowd, so unexpected was the rush of air.

"Watch out," called a fellow. This time I closed my eyes, and turned away. The blast thrust me against the man behind me. He enfolded me in his arms, sheltering me, and I put my head against his shoulder.