clear that there were secrets about Shipcamp which the Pani were concerned to protect. To protect the camp, deserters might be pursued, or fled slaves. Indeed, I had gathered that our captors’ interest in the mistresses might have some relationship to these matters. It seemed they had spied on Shipcamp, and the captors had been concerned to intercept them, presumably before they might report their findings.
“It is all very strange,” said Tula.
I did not think it so strange, but, if there were secrets concerning Shipcamp, I thought it best to remain silent.
“Where are the mistresses?” I asked.
“They have been sent out again, with the scarlet-clad slave and two guards, to gather wood.”
I recalled that their first errand with this object had been interrupted by the appearance of a collared sleen approaching the camp.
“There are boughs at the edge of the camp,” I said to Tula and Mila. These had been earlier gathered by the mistresses, but had not yet been strewn for the comfort of masters.
“So?” said Tula.
“They may not be suitable,” I said.
“The slave, Donna, will have seen to that,” said Tula.
“Nonetheless,” I said.
“Beware of walking amongst the masters,” said Tula.
“You are a clever one,” smiled Mila.
“Or one very stupid,” said Tula.
“I will only be a moment,” I said.
“Beware of meeting the eyes of masters,” said Mila.
“I am not afraid to do that,” I said. To be sure, much depends on the time, the place, the situation, and the relationship. For example, eye contact between a private master and his slave is commonly as easy, pleasant, thoughtless, natural, welcome, and familiar as that between free companions. On the other hand in, say, the street, eye contact between a slave and a free person, say an unknown male, or, particularly, a free woman, is rare, unless commanded. Some men enjoy a certain amount of boldness in a slave; it is easy to put her to her knees again, and if it becomes too much, it is easy for the whip to take it out of her.
I took only a few steps, when I stopped, for the sleen, reclined, had lifted its head, and looked at me.
I remained very still.
The beast then put its snout down on its paws, and closed its eyes.
I realized then it no longer had any interest in me.
I continued to walk toward the heap of boughs. My small journey would take me, inadvertently, past two fellows, one, the sleen master, who was sitting cross-legged, and the other, his fellow, who was lying on his stomach. They were chatting. As far as I know neither had noticed me. But they would. I would see to it.
How I hated the boor who had scorned me in Shipcamp, and who ignored me now.
How I hated him, and wanted to throw myself before him, begging to be accepted as his slave. It was permissible; there was already a collar on my neck! In the cities, I had heard that even free women sometimes knelt before a given male, and begged his collar. Even free, they were women; and how much more a woman they would be in a collar! I recalled that long ago, on my former world, that I had felt the desire to throw myself to my knees before him, but I had turned, and fled away, in consternation.
Had I been a free woman it would have been easy enough to call myself to their attention. Might not the hem of a robe brush a foot? One might even loosen a sandal strap, and request its adjustment, that one need not bend down or go to one’s knee in public, unthinkable for a free woman. One might even, in seeming to stumble, kick dirt upon one in passing, an accident pertaining to which a free woman might legitimately express regret, or even, less pleasantly, trip against them, and then execrate them for being in one’s way, or such. Doubtless there are thousands of ways in which a woman may call herself to the attention of a man, even if one is an exalted free woman. After all, beneath all their veils and robes, they, too, are women. To be sure, few of these subtle stratagems, so to speak, would be at my disposal. For example, the hem of my tunic was high on my thighs, and I was barefoot. Too, I did not think it wise to initiate a physical contact with a free person. Too, it might be noted, realistically or not, that accidents are seldom accepted