said.
“See the sandal print,” he said, pointing. “It is small. It is almost certainly the print of a woman’s sandal.”
“Panther Girls,” I said.
“They might do well in matters of observation, and surveillance,” he said.
“They may have men with them,” I said.
“That is unlikely,” he said, smiling.
“I see,” I said. “But there may be several.”
“Possibly,” he said. “That might be better determined later. In any event, you may recall that I informed you while in camp that we have allies about, from the coastal ships, levies from some crews.”
“But not from Shipcamp,” I said.
“No,” he said, “they know little or nothing of Shipcamp. The word of Tyrtaios may be accepted on this.”
“They do not know why they have been stationed in the forest?” I said.
“No,” he said. “Is it to intercept deserters, to trade, to convey departing contingents to the galleys, to take part in some action? They do not know.”
“I see,” I said.
“We wish to have a force on the ground, one between Shipcamp and the coast, which may be utilized in the case of an emergency. It is a precaution, I gather, on the part of Lord Okimoto.”
“He who is first in Shipcamp,” I said.
“Yes,” he said.
“He leaves little to chance,” I said.
“It is his way,” he said.
“If you locate the enemy,” I said, “you will utilize these allies?”
“One would attempt to do so,” he said.
“How will you contact them?” I asked.
He drew from his tunic a whistle, looped on a string about his neck. “They have a larl with them,” he said. “The Pani have seen to it. This whistle will be heard only by the larl, and such beasts. The larl will then lead the contingent to the source of the sound.”
“How far does it carry?” I asked.
“I do not know,” he said. “But far, easily for a pasang or two. It is said some larls can hear the squeal of a wounded animal from five pasangs away.”
“And if it does not hear it?” I asked.
“Then, my friend,” he said, “depending on the situation, it might prove wise to withdraw with discretion.”
“To return to Shipcamp and report,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “Tarnsmen might be dispatched. And the tarn can outdistance the kaiila.”
“Your beast,” I said, “appears ready to continue the hunt.”
“He has been ready,” said Axel. “Let us proceed, lest he become annoyed at the delay.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I squirmed a little in my bonds. I am not sure why I had awakened. Tula and Mila were asleep. I was uneasy. I moved my neck a little in the coarse, knotted, double loop which encircled my throat, which held me to the others. We were lying as we had been placed, facing away from the fire, and the mistresses. They had been drinking for some time before retiring. They had not posted a guard. They apparently thought themselves safe. Certainly they were now far from Shipcamp. Tuza had plied Darla with ka-la-na, even more than the others. Perhaps she wished to better ingratiate herself with the leader, for I had sensed some tension, if not animus, between them. Darla, Hiza, and Emerald had, long ago, retired to their blankets, spread on the mattresses of soft boughs we had gathered for them. They, of course, were free. We, on the other hand, lay in the dirt, bound. On my former world I could have scarcely grasped the chasm which separates the slave from the free. On Gor it was easy to grasp. There was an insurmountable division, a separation into kinds. How unbridgeable is the gap which separates the free from property, from goods, from merchandise, from the owned animal, from the slave!
Why had I awakened? I did not know.
I turned to my left side, and turned about, careful not to draw on the rope, which might have awakened Mila, and Tula, beyond her. I propped myself up on my left elbow, and twisted about, to where I might see the remains of the fire, now muchly burned down. I could hear the Alexandra several yards away, soft in its banks.
I could see Hiza and Emerald, asleep. Darla, too, was asleep. I did not see Tuza. This frightened me, for if she were about, and saw me turned about, it might earn me a thrashing. Tuza was short-tempered. She was impatient. Her switch was supple and cruel. I think she enjoyed beating slaves, at least lovely slaves, for some reason. Was she jealous of us, even though she had the glory of freedom on her and we were no more