The women were now, legally, slaves. Such words cannot be unsaid.
“You may beg collars, as the slaves you are,” said Genserich.
“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Darla.
“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Tuza.
“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Emerald.
“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Hiza.
“Are you Panther Girls?” asked Genserich.
“No, we are slaves, Master,” said Darla.
“Thank you, Master!” cried Donna.
“We have been paid to kill them,” said Genserich, thoughtfully.
“Surely, Master,” said Donna, “you were paid to kill free women, not slaves. Free women are gone, slaves remain. Now there are only beasts. Surely one would no more kill a slave than a verr, a tarsk, a kaiila.”
“What think you, Aeson?” asked Genserich.
“If we had not apprehended them,” said Aeson, “we would have been unable to kill them.”
“True,” said Genserich.
“It is similar,” said Aeson. “You failed to cut their throats while you had the chance, while they were free.”
“An oversight,” said Genserich.
I doubted that.
“Now,” said Aeson, “if we kill them, we are merely butchering beasts. We were not paid for that.”
“Genak?” inquired Genserich.
“Please, Master,” said Donna to Genak.
“It seems a shame to waste slaves,” said Genak. “The two on the end,” he said, indicating Emerald and Hiza, “suitably dieted, exercised, and trained, might plausibly be chained to a slave ring. The other two might do as pot girls, kettle-and-mat girls, field slaves, mill girls, that sort of thing.”
“Even they,” said a fellow, eyeing Darla, “might learn their womanhood.”
She looked down, frightened.
“It is within every woman,” said another.
“I need not learn my womanhood, Master,” said Emerald. “I know it well. I have fought it for years.”
“That battle is now over,” said Genak, as he surveyed the kneeling slave.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“The employer is dangerous,” said Genserich. “He is unlikely to be satisfied.”
“Let us take them back to the Laurius,” said a fellow, “and turn them over to the employer, that he may do with them as he wishes.”
“Good,” said more than one man.
“He will kill them!” said Donna.
“Possibly,” said a man.
“Please sell us, Masters,” begged Darla. “There are selling poles on the coast. Bind us to them, and sell us to the crews of passing ships.”
“They watch for such things, as they pass,” said Tuza.
“It was done with me,” said Donna.
“We might claim we failed to find them,” said a man.
“Some lies are justified in honor,” said Genserich, “and some are not.”
“Surely, Master,” said Donna, “honors may war with honors.”
“It is dishonorable to lie,” said a man.
“Not more dishonorable than the slaughter of helpless slaves,” said another.
“The house of honor is large,” said a fellow. “Its turrets are clear, but only a fool would claim to know its every brick and stone.”
“The matter is delicate,” said Genserich.
“No!” said Donna.
“Such lies are perilous,” said a fellow. “They hang by many threads, and if one breaks, it is found out.”
“True,” said another. “The risk is too great.”
Tuza put down her head, and moaned.
“I will do it,” said a fellow whipping out a dagger. He rushed forward, and thrust Genserich to a side. The men about were confused, startled. This, clearly, they had not anticipated. The former Panther Girls, now slaves, Darla, Tuza, Emerald, and Hiza screamed, and tried to pull back. Donna, too, cried out in fear. Tula, Mila, and the other slave, called Vulo here, kneeling to the side, did so, as well. Before Genserich could regain his feet, the fellow’s hand was in Darla’s hair, and his blade was at her throat. I saw a drop of blood at its edge. She dared not make the slightest move or sound.
“The matter is not yet decided, Rorton,” said Genserich, angrily. “Sheathe your dagger, and return to your place.”
“I know weakness when I see it,” he said. “I declare myself first.”
“Mutiny!” said Aeson.
“If you would be first, let us do contest,” said Genserich.
“The employer has placed me amongst you,” he said, “to report independently to him, which I will. Perhaps there are others, as well. I do not know. He has paid his gold, and I will see that it has not been paid in vain. These women must be silenced, free or slave, for the information they bear.”
“Put away your dagger, Rorton,” said Genserich. “And that will be the end of it. We will deliberate further on the fate of the slaves.”
“Deliberation is weakness,” said Rorton. “We know what is to