Renegades of Gor

15 We Leave the Cell

"Come, come, little vulo," said the man, "do not be shy." He beckoned, coaxingly, to Lady Claudia, who was still near the outside wall, crouching there now, in the straw, numb with fear. I did not even know if she could stand. In his left hand he carried several coils of rope, and a leash and collar. She regarded him with horror. "Come, come," he said, advancing past me, lying in the straw. There were two others, with set crossbows, in their hands, standing within the cell, rather to the right of the door, a one would face it from the inside. At the door stood our warder.

I did not think the fellow with the rope really wanted to approach the far wall, the outside wall, or weather wall, too closely. From time to time we could hear, and sometimes feel, through the floor, the impact of the Cosian projectiles, the great stones, some of which would weigh a thousand pounds or more, flung by mighty catapults, some the size of houses. We could hear, too, as though far off, the rhythmical shock of the battering ram at the gate, where men toiled at the hundred ropes, beneath the long shedlike roof which protected them and the ram.

"We do not want to stay here too long," said the warder to the fellow with the rope. "It is dangerous on this side. Hurry!"

"Come here," said the fellow to Lady Claudia. "Kneel here, straightly, up, off your heels, yours arms at your sides." "Please!" begged Lady Claudia.

"Hurry!" snapped the warder.

I think the fellow did not much care to be the object of adjurations by such as the warder. I think he would have preferred to have found her not in a position of authority, small though her authority might be, but rather in a position more fitting for her, one more appropriate, too, to her sex and nature, say, naked on her belly, at his feet, subject to his kicks and whips. He said nothing, however. Rather, angrily, summoning up his courage, he went quickly to the Lady Claudia, seized her by the scrub of her hair and drew here, she half crawling, half being dragged, to the center of the cell, and knelt her there, in the position he had specified.

The warder laughed.

Did the fellow not know the Lady Claudia was a free woman? It seemed to me he handled her rather roughly, given that she was free. She was not, after all, a slave girl.

The rope, then, in coil after coil, was wrapped about the Lady Claudia. It was in this fashion, I had gathered, from her own account of her capture, that she had been bound on the wall, and brought before Aemilianus. This touch was doubtless to remind her of the events of that evening.

"Make it tight!" said the warder.

Lady Claudia winced as the ropes were drawn about her.

"Now the leash and collar!" said the warder.

In a moment, then, the leash and collar were fastened on her. She then knelt there, in the center of the cell, heavily bound, collared, the leash dangling down before the ropes bound about her.

"Splendid!" said the warder.

Tears ran down Lady Claudia's cheeks. She looked at me, and smiled. She pursed her lips a little, kissing softly, almost imperceptibly, at me. I watched, lying in the straw, my eyes half closed. I did not respond to her tiny, pathetic gesture. It interested me, however, that she bore me no ill will. Had I not led her to believe that I might be of assistance to her? Had I not tried to keep up her courage? But I realized now she had never expected me, really, in the moment of truth, so to speak, to act. It would be pointless.

"How touching!" said the warder. I made as though to try to rise, to my knees, my head down. It seemed I could not manage this.

"Remain where you are," said one of the fellows with a crossbow.

"He is too weak to do anything," said the warder. "He cannot even stand." She then went to stand before Lady Claudia. "The spear, my dear Claudia," she said, "is a single piece of solid, polished metal. It is very long, and less than a hort thick. It is tapered to a point. It fits in a mount."

Lady Claudia knelt there, with her eyes closed.

I made as though, again, to try to rise. One of the guards looked at me, and then looked away.

"Glory to Ar!" snarled the warder.

"Glory to Ar," wept Lady Claudia.

"Do you know what we are waiting for?" asked the warder of Lady Claudia. "No," whispered Lady Claudia.

There was then a sudden impact somewhere on the wall, perhaps not seventy-five feet from where we were.

"That was close," said one of the guards, uneasily.

As I had expected they would, they had more to worry about than what went on in the cell.

Again I struggled to my knees. This time I remained there, head down, as though unable to move.

"Stay where you are," said one of the guards. I was about seven or eight feet from him.

"We are waiting for the executioner to come for you," said the warder, delightedly. "He will come to fetch you, and take you to the wall, to the spear."

Lady Claudia put down her head.

"Glory to Ar!" cried the warder.

"Glory to Ar," said Lady Claudia. She had her eyes closed. That, I thought, was fortunate. The nearest guard looked at me, and then glanced back to the two women. The guards had been in the cell some time, at least a few Ehn. This, I had thought, would put them at their ease. The expectation of resistance, of course, is at its height early. If it were to rise again, which I did not really expect, or not significantly, under the current circumstances, presumably that would be shortly before their departure from the cell. They were now awaiting the arrival of the executioner, who was to fetch Lady Claudia to the spear. Their expectation of resistance, now, I thought, might be at its low. To be sure, that is an excellent time to be particularly prepared. Yet it is impossible to maintain an attitude of full alertness for an extended period of time. It is psychologically impossible. This meant that the initiative, in this situation, was mine. If they had expected resistance, of course, they might have thought, appropriately enough, that I might choose to act before the arrival of the executioner, as that would mean an additional fellow to deal with.

I had not, of course, realized that the executioner would come to the cell. If I had given the matter much thought, I would have supposed that he, or they, would wait on the wall. Such customs, I supposed, would differ from city to city. I was not pleased to hear about the pending arrival of the executioner, of course, as that might set me an additional problem, one I had not anticipated and one I certainly did not welcome.

It was not a mistake that I had lain in the straw where I had. I had, the day before, found a ridge in the stones there which would give me leverage, something to push away from. Too, I was barefoot. I would not slip. I lifted my head, dully, as though groggily, to look at the guards. They were half starved. Their reflexes, I was sure, would be slow. They would not have their full strength. The nearest guard looked at me, again, and I returned his gaze, dully. He then glanced back at the women once more.

"He is very skilled at his work," said the warder to Lady Claudia.:He will put you on the spear so gently that you will last a long time."

Lady Claudia kept her eyes closed, and she shuddered.

"But if her wants to hurry a little," said the warder, "he will tie weights on your legs."

Lady Claudia sobbed.

"How pretty you look, kneeling there, my dear, all tied up, and in your collar," she said. "Do not fret. He will be here soon! You will then be taken to the spear! You do not have long to wait! You will look amusing, wriggling on it! Glory to Ar! Glory to Ar!"

"Glory to Ar!" wept Lady Claudia.

At that instant I lunged forward and the nearest guard had barely time to turn his head before I caught him, and his fellow, taking them together, striking them with great force, I sprinting, thrusting, they off balance, and blasted them back, one loosened, sprung quarrel skittering about the room like a frightened animal, the other smote from the guide into the straw, against the wall, and I snarled, the noise not in that moment seeming human, and it was the terribleness of the warrior's exhilaration that was that instant in my heart, nostrils and mouth, and, one with each hand, struck back their heads against the stone. Had they not been helmeted their brains would have been on the stone. In the same moments I had freed the sword of one of them and I turned, crouching, snarling, to face the man near Lady Claudia. His face was white. Perhaps I seemed then to him more beast than man. I did not take my eyes from him and the door. The warder, cut off, too, from the door, had fled behind him. He weakly half drew his sword but before it could clear the sheath I was upon him, within his guard. He released the hilt. The blade fell back, into the sheath. I turned and kicked back and he grunted, collapsing. The warder bolted for the door but I caught her at the portal by the back of the neck and lifted her up and turned, and then flung her stumbling back toward the far wall. I then returned to the fallen warrior, and bent over him. He was gasping. His eyes were wild. Not taking my eyes from the warder, who now crouched down, against the outside wall, her eyes wide with terror over the veil, I seized him by the back of the neck, below the helmet, and lifted his head a few inches from the floor. He could offer no resistance. I then struck his head, back, in the helmet, on the stones.

"You have killed them, you have killed them all!" said the warder.

"No," I said. The first two had been in the greatest danger, but their helmets had saved them. It was not that I had lost control of myself in the rush of that first moment. I had not. It was rather that, in the exigencies of the situation, it had not been my intention to take any chances with them. But their helmets had saved them.

"Lie down," I said to the warder, "on your belly, in the straw, your head to the wall. Spread your legs as widely as you can. Cover your head with your hands and arms."

She sobbed, but did so. In this fashion she could not see what might transpire behind her, she could not easily rise, and she would have some protection from debris, if the outside of the cell wall should be struck.

I then stripped the clothing and accouterments from the fellow I had just struck, and donned them. I did, however, exchange swords, removing his from its scabbard and placing therein the one I had taken from the other guard. It was a looser fit, which pleased me.

There was an impacting on the side of the citadel, some hundred or so feet away. I could feel the jar, however, through the floor. The warder, over by the wall, moaned, her hands and arms over her head. I then put the three guards together, in a corner of the cell, and heaped straw over them. They could not be seen from the observation panel.

I then turned to the Lady Claudia who still knelt as she had been placed. Her eyes were wide. There must have been fifty coils of rope wound tightly about her fair person. On her neck was the collar; from it dangled the leash.

"Greetings," I said.

"You must flee!" she whispered. "Save yourself! I am known! Do not concern yourself for me!"

I removed the leash and collar from her.

"Do not stop for me!" she begged. "Flee!"

I began to remove the rope from her.

"The executioner may arrive at any moment," she said, miserably.

"He is more likely to think I am binding you, then unbinding you," I said. She moaned.

Then she was free of the rope. I looked at her, closely, as a master at a slave, and she shrank back. I saw that, indeed, she would bring a high price in a slave market.

"You must leave me behind!" she said.

"You are too pretty to leave behind," I said.

She looked at me, wildly, elatedly.

"Yes," I said.

She laughed, and smiled at me, through tears. "I am pleased if master finds me pleasing," she whispered. "Where did you ever hear talk like that?" I asked.

"I once heard a slave girl speak so to her master," she said.

"And what did you do then?" I asked.

"I ran home to my bed," she said, "to strike it with my fists, and to weep and squirm in frustration."

"Such words are appropriate for you, too, to say," I said.

"I know!" she said. "I know!"

I looked in the fellow's wallet, which I now wore at my belt. There was, as I had hoped, a crust of bread in it. Such things, in Ar's Station, in these days, might be kept in such places. It might be his secret horde, or day's ration. It was probably worth more to him than gold. I gave it to Lady Claudia and she, with two hands, gratefully, thrust it in her mouth, crumbs at the side of her mouth. "Look in the pouches of those other fellows, too," I said. "They might have some food. If so, eat it. Then come join me."

Quickly she did as she was told. It amused me to see with what alacrity she sprang up to do my bidding. It was as though, suddenly, she was a new person. I then went to stand near our warder, lying on her stomach in the straw, her head to the wall, her legs spread, her head covered with her hands and arms. Aware of my approach she widened her legs further. This pulled her artfully contrived rage, with their points, higher on her legs. I noted that she had excellent calves and ankles.

"There is food here," called Lady Claudia, softly, elatedly, from where she crouched, near the guards.

"Good," I said. "Eat it."

She thrust the bit of food into her mouth, feeding on it like a voracious little animal. She fed with the eagerness of a half-starved slave girl.

I looked down at the warder. "Put your legs together," I said, "and your arms at your sides, palms up."

She obeyed.

I then crouched down, beside her.

She moved, uneasily, but kept position.

"These rags, I said, "are doubtless contrived in such a way that they may easily be removed."

She squirmed in anger.

I did not touch them, however. I pulled back the warder's scarflike turban which, I had assumed, was worn to cover and hide a closely cropped head.

"OH!" she said. To my surprise, however, her hair, loosened from under the turban, would have, had she been standing, fallen well beneath her shoulders. "Oh," said Lady Claudia, interested, come now to my side, a piece of crust in her hand.

"Yes," I said. "Her hair has not been cropped."

The warder squirmed a little, angrily.

"As I recall," I said to Lady Claudia, "you had not had yours cut either." "No," said Lady Claudia, smiling. "I did not want it cut. I was too vain. I was too proud of it. I thought it too pretty to want to look like one of those girls who carries water in a quarry, or works in a mill or laundry, in the heat. Let other women sacrifice their hair, not me. But when I was caught on the wall it was cut quickly enough."

"Then as a punishment," I said.

"Doubtless," she said, "but, too, they had need of catapult cordage." "What is your name, prisoner?" I asked our warder.

"Prisoner?" she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Publia," she said.

"Are you free?" I asked.

"Of course!" she said.

"You will forgive me," I said, "but the most common brand sites are covered by your rags."

"Do you think," I asked Lady Claudia, "that Lady Public's motivations in the matter of keeping her hair were similar to yours?"

"I suppose so," said Lady Claudia, finishing the bit of bread.

"And you are probably correct," I said, "but there was one other, too, perhaps, which had not occurred to you?"

The prisoner moves a little, angrily.

"What was that?" asked Lady Claudia.

But I addressed a question to our prone captive. "What is your caste?" I asked. "The Merchants," she said. "That, on the whole, is a quite well-to-do caste," I said. "It is mine, too," said Lady Claudia.

I jerked the pouch from the prisoner's belt, breaking the strings. It was a weighty pouch. I tossed it to Lady Claudia, who examined its contents." "There is much gold here," she said.

"Put it in my pouch," I said.

Lady Claudia did so.

"How is it, Lady Publia," I asked, "that you, a member of the Merchants, and one who until a moment ago had a heavy purse, are barefoot, and clad in rags?" She did not respond.

"And such artful rags?" I asked.

She did not answer.

I fingered them. "I doubt that you sewed these yourself," I said. "They were probably done by a Cloth Worker. Consider the stitching, the tightness of the stitches, its regularity and fineness. It seems very professional. Doubtless though it was done according to your directions. The outfit is calculated to give the appearance of rags but, upon close examination, we discover it is more in the nature of a costume." I smiled inwardly. Slave girls, too, I knew, occasionally practiced such wiles with their brief, scandalous ta-teeras, supposed mere rags, befitting their degraded status. Yet I knew they often labored on such rags in such a way as to show an inch her, and conceal an inch there, in such a way that a masterpiece of sensitivity, vulnerability and provocation was achieved. By such means and many others do the luscious, loving, collared little brutes save themselves many a beating and drive their masters half mad with passion and desire.

"I congratulate you," I said. "The entire ensemble, the points and such, and the varying lengths thusly achieved, and the consequent, now-and-then baring of your calves, and such, is extremely well done. The entire ensemble reveals marvelous imagination and exquisite taste."

The prisoner made a small, pleased noise.

"The question remains, of course, as to why you might do such a thing." She lay quietly, not moving.

"The question may be easily decided, of course," I said, "by seeing whether or not these garments, unlike the garments of free women, can be easily, swiftly and provocatively removed, and, say, whether or not, in the typical fashion of free women, even of the lower castes, you are wearing underrobes." Her small fists clenched in fury.

"Accordingly," I said, "rise up on your knees, and turn and face me." She did so, in fury.

Then her fury turned to fear, timidity and docility as I held her veil. I drew it toward me, gently. Instantly she fell forward on all fours, to relieve the pressure on the veil, to keep it on her. Her eyes were now wild over it, held out from her.

"No," she said, "please do not take my veil."

"I shall not do so," I said.

She gasped in relief.

"Lady Claudia will do so," I said.

Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"Surely you have looked upon her, unveiled," I said.

The prisoner sobbed.

"Stay on all fours," I cautioned her. In this way she would be unable to interfere. Too, she could not put her hands before her face.

The prisoner sobbed, and trembled.

"Remove the veil, carefully," I cautioned Lady Claudia. I had my reasons for not wanting it damaged.

"Please, no!" begged the prisoner.

The veil was fastened with a string and Lady Claudia, with two hands, lifted it gently from the head of our prisoner.

"She is beautiful!" said Lady Claudia.

"Please do not look at my lips!" sobbed the prisoner. But my hand was in her hair, holding her head up.

"She has excellent lips," I said. "Properly trained, she could probably kiss well."

"How beautiful she is!" breathed Lady Claudia.

"No more beautiful than you," I said.

"Truly?" asked Lady Claudia.

"Yes," I said.

Lady Claudia caught her breath for an instant, suspecting then, perhaps, how attractive she herself might be.

"You may kneel back," I told the prisoner, releasing her hair. She lost no time in scrambling back to her kneeling position, and put her two hands before her face.

"Put your hands down," I said.

"I do not have my veil!" she said.

Her lips, her mouth, her features, in all their expressiveness, with all their delicacy, sensuousness and beauty, it was true, should she lower her hands, would be bared. They would be exposed. One could look upon them, even idly. She had been face-stripped. Her face was now naked, as much so as that of a slave. "Now," I said.

She lowered her hands, sobbing.

I had denied her the delicacy, the modesty, the shield and defense of the veil, just as it is denied to slaves.

"Did you not expect to tear off your veil before Cosians?" I asked. She looked at me, angrily.

"I see you did," I said.

"One grows used to being without the veil," said Lady Claudia.

"Slave!" cried Lady Publia.

"I am as free as you!" retorted Lady Claudia.

"In the south," I said, "the women of the Wagon Peoples, even the free women, do not wear veils."

"Slave!" cried Lady Publia again to Lady Claudia.

"My face is no more naked than yours!" retorted lady Claudia.

"Naked face!" cried Lady Publia.

"Naked face!" responded Lady Claudia.

"On the other hand," I said, "the free women of the Wagon Peoples do wear clothes."

Lady Publia looked at me, suddenly, sharply.

"Those are pretty rags," I said.

She said nothing.

"Remove them," I told her.

Angrily Lady Publia removed the belt from her waist. It was a sturdy belt, flat, white, woven of ropelike material, quite capable of supporting the purse she had carried. It was, however, a hook-fastened belt. And she had unhooked it in an instant and, thus, freed, it fell back, behind her. She then, angrily, put her hands to the sides of her garment, up about the neck. It was a wraparound garment. She undid one hook there and, in fury, with her two hands, swiftly, easily, insolently, gracefully, slipped the garment away.

"Ah," said Lady Claudia, softly, admiringly.

Lady Publia straightened her body, pleased.

"Did you notice how she could do that, on her knees?" I asked Lady Claudia. "The garment is designed to allow that. You could perhaps imagine the difficulty of getting out of the customary robes of concealment while on your knees." "She is so beautiful," said Lady Claudia.

"You removed your garment well, Lady Publia," I said. "Doubtless you have practiced it many times. If I were a Cosian, however, I think you would have done it somewhat less insolently."

"Doubtless," she said.

"Under different circumstances," I said, "and if we had more time, it might be interesting to put you in a bit of slave silk, and teach you how to disrobe properly before a man."

She tossed her head.

"What formulas had you in mind to use to the Cosians?" I asked.

"I do not know what you are talking about," she said.

"Doubtless you rehearsed them well," I speculated.

She looked at me, angrily.

"Formulas?" asked Lady Claudia.

"'I bare my breasts before you. Make me a slave, "I surrender to you, naked. Spare me. I beg bondage, "I have endeavored to conceal my true nature from men, that I am a slave. Visit justice upon me, "I have stripped myself before you. let me live, that I may serve you as the most abject and loving of slaves, and such sayings," I said.

"Such saying stir my belly," said Lady Claudia.

"That is because it is the belly of a slave!" snapped Lady Publia.

"It would be easy enough to tell," I said, "if your belly, too, is that of a slave. I need only place my hand on you, and have you say such things, slowly, deeply and with feeling."

She regarded me with horror.

"But you are, of course, a free woman," I said.

"Yes!" she said. "Yes!" I saw then the nature of her belly, that she feared it would betray her.

"Had you never considered such sayings?" I asked Lady Claudia.

"Yes," she said, smiling, "often, but I had never really thought of them in such a formal way."

"But you never dared to kneel naked before a man, and say such things?" "No," she said, shyly. "I was much afraid. Bondage is a great step for a woman. It is so absolute, and different. It is natural for her to fear it. And now that I long to do so, he who is to me as master has forbidden it. It seems he wants to keep me as a free woman, at least for a time, for some reason."

That was true. I had my reasons.

"What did you expect to do," I asked, "if any, Cosians, or others, in darkened buildings or flaming streets, came upon you?"

"I had thought I would have had my letter of safety," she said.

"Do you think looting soldiers would have stopped to read your letter?" I asked. "Perhaps not," she smiled.

"So what would you have done?" I asked.

"What I suppose most any woman would do," she said. "I would have stripped myself and knelt, begging to be kept as a slave. Then, if I were fortunate, I suppose I would soon thereafter, my hands bound behind me, be following my master, on a cord and nose ring."

"It is not unlikely," I said.

"Slave!" hissed Lady Publia.

We then regarded Lady Publia, kneeling there, naked, in the straw, her tags back over her calves.

She had beautiful eyes and hair, and features. She had a marvelous belly, breasts, and thighs, a luscious love cradle. Women are so incredibly, so inutterably beautiful! They have been made for seizing in one's arms, and owning and collaring.

"She is very beautiful," said Lady Claudia.

I studied Lady Publia closely, to her acute discomfort, as she looked away, frightened, not wanting to meet my eyes. Yes, I thought, it is true, she is very beautiful, and those small, white limbs would look well in shackles, and that face, those breasts and thighs would exhibit well on the block, under the torches of an auction.

"Very beautiful," said lady Claudia.

"No more so than you," I said.

"Am I truly so beautiful," asked Lady Claudia.

"Yes," I said.

Lady Claudia put down her head, shyly.

I supposed it would not do to tell Lady Claudia, as she was still a free woman, but she was actually, at this time, at any rate, far more beautiful than Lady Publia. This was because she had now begun to get in touch with her womanhood. In the past few days in the cell she had begun to discover herself; she had begun to learn her femaleness.

"But you are a slave," snarled Lady Publia.

"Yes," whispered Lady Claudia, speaking not her legal status but her truth. Lady Publia laughed, scornfully.

Lady Claudia lowered her head, shamed.

I wondered if Lady Publia thought her own truth was different. She, too, after all, was a female.

"Slave!" sneered Lady Publia.

Lady Claudia did not respond.

In general physical characteristics, such as their height and figure, their eyes and hair, their complexion and such, they were rather similar.

Lady Publia regarded Lady Claudia scornfully.

Lady Claudia did not meet her eyes.

I thought they might look well, particularly if Lady Publia were improved, as a brace of slaves. Sometimes one can get more for two girls together, as a brace, each reinforcing or enhancing, or setting off, the other in some way, than one could get for them both, sold separately. To be sure, many buyers, when they buy more than one item, expect a discount on one or both of the items.

"Turn about now," I said to Lady Public, "and go to your stomach, as you were before, with your arms at your sides, the palms up."

She did so, and now lay as she had before except that now she was stripped. "You are a free woman, as I understand it," I said. "Yes!" she said.

I put her hair behind her back, over her shoulders.

"And what, then," I asked, "would you have done, if Cosians had come upon you?" "I am a free woman!" she said. "I am not a slave! I would never have surrendered!"

"I do not like her, Master," said Lady Claudia. "And I would not be as she. I would find that disgusting and terrible, as well as ultimately barren and miserable."

"I am not sure there are free women," I said, "except in a trivial legal sense." "I am such a woman!" cried Lady Publia.

"How such women shame women such as I, who are weak and needful, and loving," said Lady Claudia.

"In your weakness and need, and love," I said, "in your honesty, and truth, you are a thousand times stronger, and greater, then such caricatures of women, then such travesties of women, then such pseudomales and facsimile men, denying themselves and their feelings, holding themselves rigid, not daring to feel or be themselves."

"But men keep women such as I powerless," she said, touching her thigh. "Yes," I said, "and you love it."

"Yes," she whispered, frightened, looking down, trembling with emotion. I gathered together the scarflike material she had had wrapped turbanlike about her head, her veil and her "rags," and handed them to Lady Claudia. "What are you doing?" asked the prisoner.

"Put these over there, by the rope, and the leash and collar," I said to Lady Claudia.

She obeyed. She then returned, to be beside me.

"There are trumpets outside," said Lady Claudia, suddenly.

"It is another assault," I said. Almost simultaneously there were raised thousands of cheers.

"There are your friends, the Cosians," I said to Lady Publia.

"They are not my friends!" she said.

If there was a response from the walls, it was hard to make it out. "But yet you were preparing yourself quite carefully, hoping to be permitted to belong to one as a slave."

"Liar!" she cried. I saw her small fingers move, but she did not dare to clench her fists. The fingers moved helplessly, but the palms remained facing upward, exposed.

"You were bearing much gold," I said, "which, foolishly, you thought to offer to Cosians, that they might spare you and keep you as a slave. But that was stupid. For they would take the gold and then do what they wanted with you, putting you to the sword or not, as they pleased."

She cried out in anger.

"But if your thoughts in this matter had been correct," I said, "it might have been too bad, might it not, for many of the other women of Ar's Station, women less fortunate, less rich, than you, who lacked the means wherewith to purchase their lives?"

"That could not be my concern," she said, angrily.

"But I assure you, Lady Publia," I said, "the pertinent determinations in such matters, when the women are stripped and stood against a wall, are not made on the basis of gold."

"I suppose not," she said, bitterly.

"Why, too," I asked, "did you, a wealthy woman, of the Merchants, choose to wear artful rags, as though you might be a simple low-caste maid?"

She was silent.

"There are two reasons," I said. "The first is that you feared that the high castes and the richer castes, such as the Merchants, might be less likely to be spared by the enemy, that they might be the subject of more resentment, perhaps because of envy, or perhaps that they would be particularly sought out for vengeance, on the supposition that they, presumably the more powerful castes in the city, might be most responsible for the prolongation of the siege. You, on the other hand, by your disguise, so to speak, might hope to escape such a fate. Cosians would see you, you hoped, not in terms of politics, but merely in terms of loot. The second reason is more interesting. You wanted to be seen in terms of something well worth hunting and capturing. Thus the artful rages, apparently so inadvertently but excitingly, displaying your calves. You did not wish to be brought down with a quarrel at a distance but to find yourself at close quarters with captors. Then you would surrender to them."

"No!" she cried.

"It is for such a reason," I said, "that your rags were designed to be removed swiftly, so easily and gracefully, and on your knees."

"No!" she said. "No!"

"Lie quietly," I said. "And most interestingly, and objectionably," I said, "you had not had your hair shorn."

Lady Publia did not respond.

"To be sure," I said, "you wished to give the impression that you had done so. That was the purpose of the cloth you wore about your head. It was intended to make it seem as though you, perhaps in understandable vanity or embarrassment, wished to conceal shortly cropped hair. certainly I, at first, assumed your hair had been shorn."

"I, too," said Lady Claudia.

"Do you recall," I asked Lady Claudia, "that I earlier suggested that there might be a reason, other than reasons of your sort, for not having her hair cropped?"

"Yes," Lady Claudia.

"Do you now suspect such a reason?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Yes," I said. "With such hair, such lovely hair," I said, toying with it, behind Lady Publia's back, "she would be more likely to be spared." Lady Publia tensed, angrily.

"Let other women have their hair shorn," I said, "donating it to the defense of their city. Not she. It, like the artful rags, their length, their ease of removal, and such, had its clever, calculated part to play in her plan. She would thus, retaining her hair, it enhancing her beauty, if captured, stand out like a paga slave among mill sluts. If selections were to be made, it then seems that surely she would be among the first chosen, not for the sword, but for the chain."

Lady Publia's small fingers moved wildly, angrily, but she dared not close her hands. The palms remained up, exposed.

"There are the trumpets again," said Lady Claudia.

"It is the recall," I said.

"Nut they will come again, will they not?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, "and, if necessary, again, and again." I looked down at Lady Publia.

"Does it seem fair to you," I asked Lady Claudia, "that Lady Publia should have such an advantage over the other women of Ar's Station?"

"I do not know," said Lady Claudia.

"It does not seem fair to me," I said. "When you were going through our friend's pouches over there, did you find any small knives, such as a hook knife or a shaving knife?"

I had a belt knife myself, which was sheathed on the sword belt, to the right, but at the moment I preferred something lighter-bladed, smaller and sharper, if it were available.

"One fellow had a shaving knife," said Lady Claudia.

"Bring it to me," I said.

"What do you want if for?" said Lady Publia, anxiously. In a moment Lady Claudia had returned with the implement.

"What are you going to do!" cried Lady Publia.

"Hold still," I said.

"No!" she wept. "no!"

In a few moments I discarded the small knife, throwing it to the side. Lady Publia was lying in the straw, bawling. She clutched her head wildly, in dismay, in disbelief.

"Kneel," I said, "facing me."

Weeping, Lady Publia obeyed, her hands still on her head.

"Now," I said, "if Cosians come on you, you will be on the same footing as the other women of Ar's Station."

Tears filled her eyes.

I had left her enough hair so that I could get my hand in it, in the scrub of it, so that I might use it as the guard had earlier the hair of Lady Claudia, to control her. Too, thusly, it as now of a convenient length for a Cosian to seize it, should that eventually occur. It was of about the same length as that of Lady Claudia.

Lady Publia, half hysterical, kept her hands on her head. This lifted her breasts nicely. Then, seeing my eyes on her, she wept and put down her head, kneeling low, her hands still over her head.

"Prisoner," said I, harshly, "on all fours."

She assumed this position.

"Go to the place where you put the clothing," I said to Lady Claudia, "by the rope, the leash and collar, and wait there." Lady Claudia hurried to the place.

I then stood up and looked down at Lady Publia.

"Lift your head, prisoner," I said.

She did so.

"Lift up one end of the rope," I said to Lady Claudia.

She did so.

I them, abruptly, seized Lady Publia by the scrub of her dark hair and pulled her, she crying out, half crawling, half being dragged, over to where Lady Claudia waited. It was precisely so that the guard, earlier, had treated Lady Claudia.

"Kneel here," I said to Lady Publia, indicating the same spot where Lady Claudia had knelt, "up, off your heels, your arms at your sides."

Frightened, Lady Publia complied.

It was exactly in such a position that Lady Claudia had been knelt by the guard. I then took the free end of the rope from Lady Claudia's hand and, exactly as she had been tied, with the many coils, beginning near her waist, began to bind Lady Publia.

"What are you doing?" moaned Lady Publia.

"Put on her clothing," I said to Lady Claudia. "Hurry." The most recent assault force, the third of the morning, had been recalled. This meant a lull. At such a time men could be freed from the walls. Too, it was now late morning.

"What does she think she is doing!" demanded Lady Publia, outraged. "oh!" "As I recall," I said to Lady Publia, "you recommended that the ropes be made tight."

"Oh!" she said. Then suddenly, again. "Oh!" Then, "please," she begged, "do not make them so tight!" Then, Oh! Oh!" she said.

Then she was trussed.

"Your calves and ankles," I said to Lady Claudia, "are as attractive as hers." Lady Claudia flushed with pleasure at my compliment. Then she said, delightedly, touching the garment. "I have not worn clothes in days!" I smiled to myself. I thought she might as well enjoy clothes, while she was permitted them.

"Now put on the veil, and wrap the cloth about your head, quickly," I said, "as she had them." "What it the meaning of this outrage!" demanded Lady Publia, squirming in the ropes.

"That is very good," I said to Lady Claudia. She, like Lady Publia, had dark brown eyes. If one did not know Lady Publia personally, or if one did not know her all that well, I did not think there would be any difficulty in Lady Claudia's being taken for her.

"What is this all about?" asked Lady Publia.

"Go to the fellows over there by the wall," I said, "and cut free one of their tunics. I need some cloth."

Lady Claudia did so, using a belt knife, taken from one of the guards.

"What is this all about?" said Lady Publia, again, insistently, angrily. I then put the collar about her neck. Its leash was already attached. She then knelt there, as had Lady Claudia, leashed and collared.

"I do not understand!" said Lady Publia, angrily.

I stood up, and looked down at her. She was on her kneed, bound. She trembled. Women understand that position.

In a moment Lady Claudia had rejoined me, carrying a good bit of cloth. "Release me," demanded Lady Publia.

"You are going to help us leave the citadel," I told her.

"Never!" she said.

"I have a plan," I said.

"Doubtless you think she can pass herself off as me," she said, scornfully. "I think so," I said.

At that moment there was a great impact somewhere, perhaps a hundred feet away. Lady Publia, bound at our feet, winced. There was a noise as the leash ring moved on the collar ring.

"It is the artillery," said Lady Claudia, shivering. "It has begun again!" "She is pretty," I said. "Perhaps Cosians might spare her."

"I think so," said Lady Claudia.

"Why do you speak so explicitly of Cosians?" asked Lady Publia suddenly, apprehensively. "Am I not beautiful?"

"Yes," I said. "you are."

"Then would not anyone spare me?" she asked. "Perhaps not just anyone," I said.

"You understand, do you not, Lady Publia," I said, "that there are many ways, behavioral and psychological, in which one can determine whether or not a woman's bondage is meretricious?"

"Yes," she said, frightened.

"Even so," I said, "one might be found who might not choose to spare you." "What are you waiting here for?" asked Lady Publia, frightened. "Why do you not run? Why do you not flee?"

"We are waiting for a caller," I said.

"Who?" she asked, apprehensively.

"Surely you have not forgotten," I said. "He was to have been along in a few Ehn. I expect him in a bit, the assaults now having abated."

"If she is to be me," said Lady Publia, suddenly, frightened, looking at Lady Claudia, wearing her former rags, veil and scarf, "what then is to be my role in this farce?"

While we had been talking I had taken the cloth with Lady Claudia had brought from the side earlier, that which she had cut from the tunic of one of the guards, and had been tearing it here and there, and working with it.

"Can you not guess?" I asked.

"No!" she cried. "No!"

"Perhaps," I said. I was now wadding one of the pieces of cloth into tight ball. "Are you not a Cosian?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"What is your city?" she asked, frightened.

"Port Kar," I said.

She suddenly turned white.

"Glory to Port Kar," I said.

"Mercy!" she cried.

"Glory to Port Kar," I said, regarding her, evenly.

"Glory to Port Kar!" she cried, desperately, fervently.

"Three time," I said.

"Glory to Port Kar," she cried, thrice.

I then thrust the small ball of tightly rolled cloth into her mouth, where, instantly, as it was actually a rather large piece of material, it expanded. "Those may be the last word you ever speak," I said. She looked at me wildly, tears in her eyes, squirming, shaking her head, protesting, making tiny noises, but I then secured the wadding tightly in her mouth, with two rolled strips of cloth, pulled back tightly between her teeth, and tied in back of her neck.

"When the executioner arrives," I said, "who do you think he is going to find, waiting for him?"

She turned white, squirming, shaking her head.

"You were not really very pleasing," I said. "Perhaps you would like to be more pleasing now?"

She nodded, desperately, tears bursting from her eyes.

"Hold her leash, close to the collar," I said to Lady Claudia, who was white-faced, too.

This would keep Lady Publia from plunging her head to the floor, at our feet. She threw her head back, in misery.

But I pulled it forward, by the hair, and covered it, with a large piece of cloth from the guard's tunic. I then, with a knife, and a cord of rolled cloth, put through holes in the bottom of the cloth, made it into a rough hood, and tied it on her, fastening it behind the back of her neck.

"Perhaps if you had been more pleasing," I suggested.

She then began hysterically, piteously, to squirm and moan.

I rose to my feet. I gestured to Lady Claudia to release the leash. It seemed she could hardly open her fingers but she did so. Lady Publia, as I had expected, as soon as the leash was released, put her head, secured in the darkness of the crude hood, wildly, piteously down, searching, groping, for my feet, to press her covered, parted lips and stopped mouth against them. Then I took the leash back between her legs, crossed her ankles, and bound them together with it. She was thus, having herself assumed this position, now, at my convenience, fastened helplessly down, bent over, on her knees. I stood up. I looked down at her. Yes, it was also a position of obeisance.

"See if anyone is coming," I said to Lady Claudia.

She hurried, distraught, to the cell door.

In a moment she had returned.

"Doubtless he will be along presently," I said.

Lady Claudia looked down, horrified, at our helpless warder. I crouched down by the prisoner. "The spear, as I understand it," I said, trying to recall the words of our warder earlier to Lady Claudia, "is a solid piece of polished metal, very long, and less than a hort in width. It is tapered to a point, and fits in a mount."

Lady Publia, squirmed on her knees hysterically. She uttered tiny, wild, protesting noises.

Lady Claudia looked at me wildly, over the veil. There were tears in her own eyes.

At that moment there was a hideous impact some forty feet or fifty feet from us and on the other side of the interior wall to the left, as one would face the cell door, in what, presumably would have been the cell adjoining ours, there was a bursting inward of brick and stone. In a moment there was a cloud of dust in the corridor, some of which drifted into our cell. I put my arm before my face. Lady Claudia's veil and Lady Publia's hood doubtless afforded them some protection.

We heard a cough in the corridor outside.

In a moment a tall fellow entered our cell. He wore a black hood, which, save for a narrow, rectangular opening for the eyes, covered his entire head. The hood and shoulders, in particular, were covered with dust. He struck some dust from his clothes and body. "The wall weakens," he said to me. "In a few Ehn they will be coming again. They are forming. We can no longer keep them back. Their engines are almost climbing the walls."

I nodded.

"You are Lady Publia, the warder?" he asked Lady Claudia.

"I am," she said, boldly.

"I do not approve of woman warders," said he. "It is a task for men." She tossed her head.

"Perhaps you regret having accepted the position," he said.

"Perhaps," said Lady Claudia.

At our feet, Lady Publia, kneeling, bent over, small, hooded, the leash tight against the back of her neck, unable to raise her head, squirmed and uttered wild, tiny noises. We paid her no attention, as she was the prisoner. I supposed, however, that perhaps she did, now, upon reflection, regret having accepted the position of warder. "You have pretty legs," said the fellow to Lady Claudia.

She did not respond.

"What is your caste?" he asked.

"The Merchants," she said.

"Why are you not in the white and gold," he asked, "on this, of all days?" White and gold, or white and yellow, are the caste colors of the Merchants.

She did not answer.

"You are not even in the Robes of Concealment," he said.

"They are not appropriate here," she said.

"You do not wear them because it is not appropriate for them here," he asked, "or is that why you are here, because it is not appropriate to wear such things here?"

"There are many places where they would not be appropriate," she said. "Yes," he said, "for example, on a Cosian sales block."

"I meant other places," she said.

"It is true," he said, "for example, in climbing the rubble, carrying stones to workmen on the walls, in tending the wounded, and such. Thus I wonder why it is that you chose to be here."

"It is cool here," she said.

"And perhaps you could feel more like a man here," he said.

"Perhaps," she said, as though angrily.

Lady Publia, in the hood, tied at our feet, made a small, wild noise, as of understanding, acknowledgment, dismay, regret, misery and pain. The fellow's question had apparently seemed profoundly meaningful to her, for some reason. At any rate, if she had had secret, internal pretensions to manhood, or to similarity to men, or something along these lines, it seemed unlikely she now retained them. I thought that she probably now realized she was something quite different, and in my opinion, something quite individual, authentic and wonderful, a woman. At any rate, she would know something that was indisputable, that she was at our feet, a helplessly bound female.

"From the look of it, woman," said he to Lady Claudia, "I do not think you have underrobes beneath those rags."

"That is my own concern," she said, loftily. "By nightfall you will probably be in a collar, licking the feet of a Cosian," he said.

"Perhaps," she said, angrily.

"And what of you, my little vulo," he said, not unkindly, crouching beside Lady Publia. "I wager that you, too, would like to have the opportunity to prostrate yourself before Cosians."

Lady Publia began to squirm and wriggle wildly, making piteous sounds.

"You must have fed her very well," said the fellow, looking up at Lady Claudia, whom he took for Lady Publia.

"She has a great deal of energy."

Lady Publia struggled wildly, trying to pull her head up, against the thick collar and heavy strap. But, in the end, she was exactly as she had been before. "Why is she gagged?" asked the fellow.

"That she not be able to make her identity known," I said.

Lady Publia stopped moving, startled.

"It is the orders of Aemilianus," I said. "he was not certain whether or not there were more than one spy of such a nature in the city. Accordingly, in this fashion, if there should be more than one such agent, Cosians would not know which of them was mounted on the pole. The hood, of course, has a similar purpose. To some extent, it might, though it seems a little late now, impair the functioning of their intelligence network in the city. Similarly the other agents, if there are such, might be intimidated or terrified, not knowing which of their number had been captured, how much was known, who might be next, and so on."

"The commander is a clever man," said the fellow.

"Yes," I agreed. I did have respect for Aemilianus as a commander.

Lady Publia squirmed, and wept. The hood was wet with her tears.

"Do not fret, little vulo," he said to her, putting his hand on her head, "you will soon be on the spit, cooking in the sun."

She wept and struggled.

"It seems there will be little difficulty in getting this one to squirm on the spear," said the fellow. Wild, tiny, piteous noises emanated from Lady Publia's hood. "Sometimes they wriggle well," he said, "perhaps because they are afraid, or because they think they can get off the spear somehow, or because they are trying to end it. Sometimes they try to hold themselves as still as possible. Sometimes then we use the whip on them, and sometimes not. If we let them take their time about it, of course, the penetration is sometimes as little as a hort an Ahn. The end result, of course, is the same."

Lady Publia squirmed hysterically. She uttered desperate, piteous, pleading sounds.

"Usually they are not this agitated," said the fellow. "Usually, by this time, they are numb with fear and dread, and offer no resistance. Many cannot even walk."

I recalled that Lady Claudia had been much that way earlier.

"It is time to go, vulo," said the fellow, getting to his feet.

Lady Publia, at his feet, shook her head wildly, feverishly, piteously, desperately, as she could, in the constraint of the collar. It must have burned the back of her neck. Because of the coils of rope I could barely see her back. "She begs for time, for mercy," said the fellow.

"Perhaps," I said.

She whimpered, piteously.

"Filthy spy," he said. He then, angrily, spurned her with his foot, thrusting her to her side.

Lady Claudia, wide-eyed, frightened, looked at the prisoner, lying on her side, helpless, and looked then, too, at the fellow. Perhaps she had never before seen a woman so treated, or at least a free woman so treated.

The fellow then freed the ankles of Lady Publia, and brought the leash forward, between her legs. He then coiled it to the leash ring. Then, one hand on her arm, the other on the leash coils, he pulled her to her knees.

Lady Publia whimpered piteously before him. I think she was now beginning, better than before, to understand her unenviable position. I feared she might collapse or faint. I was not certain she could even stand now.

"Think now on Cosian gold," he said, bitterly. She shuddered.

"Let us show your Cosians friends how pretty you will look on the spear," he said, angrily.

She shook her head, numbly.

"I am now giving you tether," he said. He shook out the leash. "When I pull twice on the leash," he said, "you will rise and follow me, responsive to, and conducted by, the leash."

But before he could draw twice on the leash, giving the prisoner her signal, she thrust her head down, to his feet, reaching for them, as she had earlier for mine. He let her find them, for a moment, and press, and rub, her face, her head, her gagged, covered mouth desperately, piteously against them.

"You seem to have the dispositions, and makings, of a slave," he mused. She lifted her head to him, in the darkness of the hood, pathetically, hopefully.

"And surely your body," he said, "so trim and excitingly shaped, is much like those that are found in slave markets."

She whimpered affirmatively, beggingly.

"But unfortunately," he said, "you are a free woman. she shook her head.

"You seem to have forgotten your brand," he said.

She made a small, begging sound.

"But perhaps all you free sluts are truly slaves and belong in collar," he said. He looked at Lady Claudia. "Your friend, Lady Publia, the warder," he said to the prisoner, "had pretty calves and ankles. doubtless those are displayed for the interest and delectation of Cosians, and masters."

Lady Claudia stood back, not answering.

I wondered if the fellow saw that Lady Publia was thinking of running.

"Traitress," said the fellow to Lady Publia.

Lady Publia then, suddenly, leaped to her feet and tried to run, but, in an instant, expertly, with a turn of the leash, she was flung to her side before him. He held the leash. His foot on it, near her neck, kept her head down. Lady Claudia's hand went before her veiled lips. She looked down at the helpless, prostrate Lady Publia. I supposed that perhaps Lady Claudia had never seen a woman subjected to leash control before.

"That was stupid," said the fellow. "Now, shall we begin again?" He took his foot off the leash. He shook the leash once, to alert the prisoner that a leash signal was imminent. Then he drew on the leash twice. "Stand," he said. "Follow."

Lady Publia struggled to her feet, then her legs gave out, under her, and she collapsed.

"Be warned," he said. "If I carry you, I shall carry you as a slave is carried." But I think Lady Publia now, truly, could not stand. I think that her bonds, the security of her gag, her inability to dislodge the hood, its effectiveness in concealing her, the ease with which her attempted escape had been dealt with, had all combined to make clear to her her utter helplessness, that she could not, in the least, by her will or action, alter the course of events. We had seen to it. Now she could scarcely move.

With a thong he addressed himself to her ankles.

"What is wrong with you?" asked the fellow, looking up at Lady Claudia. She stood there, frightened. It seemed she herself could hardly stand.

Lady Claudia looked at him. She put out her hand a little, piteously.

"Do not concern yourself with her," said the fellow, finishing with the knot, jerking it tight, on Lady Publia's ankles. "She is a spy."

Lady Publia struggled weakly, her ankles now thonged.

"It is a pity that such lusciousness must be destroyed," he said. "Such shapeliness has slave value."

Lady Publia whimpered.

As he considered the prisoner, Lady Claudia hurried to my side, keenly distressed, half beside herself. "You cannot let her go to the spear!" she whispered.

"I suppose once you were a haughty free woman," he said to Lady Publia. "You do not seem so haughty now. Doubtless once, too, you thought yourself very clever, when you betrayed your city and accepted Cosian gold. Now, however, I suspect that you are less sure of your cleverness."

I motioned that Lady Claudia should return to her place.

"What is wrong with her?" asked the fellow. "She pities the prisoner," I said.

"Spare her!" cried Lady Claudia, suddenly.

Her outburst was greeted by a frenzied squirming, and a renewal of tiny, pathetic noises from the prisoner.

"Do not take her to the spear!" begged Lady Claudia. "What can it matter? The city, I am certain, will soon fall. What difference will it make?"

I wished Lady Claudia would have kept her lovely face shut.

"Why do you think we have waited until now?" he asked. "Let that be the irony, if you wish, that today, of all days, when the citadel surely must shortly fall, when she is so close to rescue by her Cosian friends, but so far, that she, today, of all days, in full view of the foe, in justice and defiance, is placed upon the spear!"

Lady Publia shuddered.

Lady Claudia shrank back, horrified. She looked at me, wildly.

"Would you like a hand with her?" I asked. This would bring me close enough to deal with him.

"I can manage," he said. "Where are the others?"

"What others?" I asked.

"Usually there is a squad of three, with the warder," he said.

"Doubtless they are about somewhere," I said.

"The other two are doubtless on the wall," he said.

"Perhaps," I said. That surely seemed a likely supposition on his part, given his information.

"It was wise of them," he said, "to move the other prisoner out, if they could bring only one man here this morning."

"That would seem to make sense," I said.

"He would probably, in any case," he said, "have been too weak to do anything." "Perhaps," I said.

"Doubtless, a child could have handled him by now," he said.

"Perhaps," I said.

"We are all weak," he said, irritably.

"Are you certain that you would not care for my assistance?" I asked. "No," he said. "This filthy, treacherous little vulo's weight is nothing."

He turned about then and bent to pick up the quivering Lady Publia, to hoist her to his shoulder. Suddenly he stopped. He had then, apparently for the first time, detected the bodies, muchly concealed with straw, which we had hidden at the side of the cell. I moved quickly toward him but then it seemed, suddenly, as thought the world had burst apart, and I spun about, covering my head with my hands, and it seemed in that instant that the cell was filled with bursting stones and bricks, and there was a great sound, and Lady Claudia screamed, and one could hardly see or breath for an instant, the dust in the air, the white, bright dust, and we were coughing, and my eyes stung, and there was debris all about, and it seemed half the cell wall was gone, and I squinted against the light, so bright, the dust glittering in it, flooding the room. The fellow had lost his footing. The floor, where he was was crooked, buckled. Some of the great stones tilted upward. He seemed half in shock. He turned, in the dust, pointing back to the wall, startled, that he would apprise me of his discovery, not even seemingly suspicious, and met the stone in my hand, part of the wall I had seized up, and sank to his knees. Lady Claudia crouched down, shuddering, her hands over her head. Lady Publia lay prone among the buckled tiles, perhaps in shock. Both were covered with dust.

I scrambled up an embankment of debris to the great opening in the wall. There, spread before me, in the bright morning sun, under the clear blue sky, bright with glittering spear blades and shields, with nodding plumes, with the standards of companies and regiments, dotted with engines, here and there a tharlarion stalking about, tarnsmen in the sky, in serried ranks, some stretching back to buildings still standing, even crowding streets in the distance, most on an artificial plain extending for three hundred yards about, created from the flattened ruins of burned, razed buildings, the debris sunk in cellars, and basements, and leveled, or hauled away, was the marshaled might of Cos in the north!

I motioned eagerly for Lady Claudia to climb the rubble, that we two, together, might stand in that opening and regard the grandeur of war. "Do you see how it is, that men can love it?" I asked.

"It frightens me!" she gasped.

"Look at them," I said, "the soldiers, their glory, their strength!" "It terrifies me!" she wept, the wind moving the veil against her lips. "How splendid it is!" I cried.

"I belong naked in chains!" she suddenly cried.

"Yes," I said, seizing her arm, "you do!"

Had I not held her arm, I fear she might have swooned on the rubble.

We then heard, from all about, before us, the notes of trumpets.

"The men are moving!" she said.

"It is the attack," I said.

"They are silent!" she said. Hitherto the trumpets had been followed by great cheering.

"They have had their fill of shouting, and such," I said. "They come now to finish the matter."

Light-armed troops hurried forward, slingers and archers, and javelin men, to keep defenders back, as they could, from the crenels. Under their cover the ladder brigades followed and the grapnel men; behind these came scalers, crouching, protected under the shield roofs of infantry men.

"The wall will be attacked at several points," I said, "to spread the defenders."

She suddenly gasped.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

"I thought I saw a building move," she said, "back by the other buildings." "Where?" I asked.

"It does not matter," she said, "it was only an illusion, a ripple in the air, a matter of the waves of heat rising from the stone, the debris.

"Where?" I asked.

She pointed. Then she gasped, again.

"It is no illusion," I said. "It is moving. There is another, too, and another." "Buildings cannot move!" she said.

"I count eleven," I said. "They can be moved in various ways. Some are moved from within, by such means as men thrusting forward against bars, or tharlarion, pulling against harnesses attached to bars behind them, such apparatuses internal to the structure. Some, on the other hand, look there, there is one, are drawn by ropes, drawn by men or tharlarion. That one is drawn by men. See them?"

"Yes," she said.

There must have been at least fifty ropes, and fifty men to a rope. They seemed small yet, even in their numbers, at this distance.

"Even so, how can such things be moved?" she said.

"They are not really buildings as you think," I said, "made of stone, and such. They are high, mobile structures, on wheels. They are heavy, it is true, but they are light, considering their size. They are wooden structures, frameworks, covered on three sides with light wood, sometimes even hides. The hides will be soaked with water as they approach more closely, to make it difficult to fire the structure. They overtop the walls. Drawbridges can then be opened within them and men can pour out, preferably down, this giving them momentum for the charge, over the walls, others following them up the ladders within. There are many types of such structures. Some are even used on ships. We call them generally castles or towers. As they are used here, one would commonly think of them, and speak of them, as siege towers."

"They are terrible things," she said.

"Even one of them," I said, "from the platforms and landings within, and by means of the ladders, bringing men from the ground, may feed a thousand men into a city in ten Ehn.

"They are like giants," she said.

"There does, indeed, seem to be stately menace in them," I said.

We stood framed in the great, jagged hole.

"Come away," I said, then suddenly. I dragger her back, behind me, down the rubble into the cell. I went tot he executioner and drew away his mask, drawing it then over my own head. I went to Lady Publia, who lay in the debris, covered with dust. I brushed her with the side of my foot, and she did not move. I then kicked her with the side of my foot, and she still lay still. I did not think she was dead. She had been the most sheltered of all of us when the wall had burst in. There was no blood about the hood or ropes. I did not even think she was unconscious. It was my surmise that she had been hoping against hope to be ignored, or not to be noticed.

I did not know, but I doubted that she, lying where she was, confused and frightened, down amidst the rubble near the door, had even heard us, high in the aperture, above her, across the cell. If she had heard us, I did not think she would have been able to make out our words, or, probably, even whose voices she heard, or their location, except with respect to her, she doubtless by now helplessly disoriented in the hood. Perhaps she had hoped that she might be the sole survivor of the strike. I did not know. In any event, she, hooded, and helplessly bound, would have at best only a very imperfect understanding of what had occurred. Presumably she would not know, for example, who might have survived and who not. Gagged, too, of course, she could not even beg for information. This amused me.

I motioned that Lady Claudia should be silent. I looked down at Lady Publia, lying so still. I supposed now she was pretending to be dead, or, at least, unconscious. There are numerous ways in which such fraud may be terminated, for example, to throw the woman into water, to hold her head under water for a bit, to see if she tries to free her head, sputtering and begging for mercy, to put her under the whip, to use the bastinado in the soles of her feet, to claw unexpectedly at the soft flesh behind her knees, even to lightly caress the soles of her feet, and so on. I wanted something, rather, which would prove to Lady Publia, even if to her profound humiliation, what she was. First, I separated the ropes a bit on her upper body and put my ear to her heart. It was beating, so she was alive, as I thought. I also heard the heart rate increase, excitedly, she frightened, and knowing I was making this determination. Still she pretended to unconsciousness.

I then lifted her up a bit, supporting her with my hand behind her back, and put my other hand to her belly. She tried to pretend to be unconscious. She tried to hold herself still. But soon the very physiology of her body, almost autonomically, became active, and I felt the gathering heat and the oil and openness of her, her vitality, readiness and need. Then, surrendering, she moaned and squirmed. Then, piteously, abandoning all effort at deception, she thrust herself against me, offering herself to me, whoever I might be, for use as a slave.

I then withdrew my hand and, as she moaned piteously, helplessly, threw her to my left shoulder. This keeps the sword arm free. I carried her with her head to the rear, as a slave is carried. She would think herself, I was certain, on the shoulder of the executioner. Too, she could feel the hood I wore, against the left side of her waist. I then, followed by Lady Claudia, carried her from the ruins of the cell.