Aeson seized her by the hair, that her face be held in place, and slapped her twice, first with the flat of his right hand, and then the back. She looked up at him, frightened, not understanding.
“You dallied too long in saying ‘Master’,” said Aeson.
“Forgive me, Master,” she said.
“Align them, with perfection,” said Genserich.
“Knees even,” said Aeson, “back on heels, back straight, belly in, head up, hands, palms down, on thighs!”
“What of their knees?” inquired a fellow.
“Let them remain closed,” said Genserich.
“They may be split later,” laughed a man.
“Of course,” said Genserich.
“Kill them now,” said Rorton. “It is best.”
The slaves paled, but did not break position. They knew themselves, as all slaves, in the absolute power of masters.
“You understand,” said Genserich, “that you are to obey instantly and unquestioningly?”
“Yes, Master,” they said.
“And,” said Genserich, “will you strive to be pleasing to your masters, and fully so, in all ways?”
“Yes, Master!” said Darla.
“Yes, Master!” said Tuza.
“Yes, Master!” said Emerald.
“Yes, Master!” said Hiza.
“There,” said Genserich, turning to his men, “they are slaves who are concerned to be pleasing. It is clearly dishonorable to slay such a slave.”
“That is true,” said a man.
“It is a turret in the house of honor,” said another. “It is not only clearly visible, but conspicuous. It is uncontestable.”
“Hold!” said Rorton. “The question is not whether or not they are slaves, or, if slaves, pleasing or displeasing slaves. The question is independent of status and condition. The question is one of knowledge, whoever it is borne by, free or slave. The knowledge they bear is their doom.”
“That is what was at issue,” said Genserich. “It is no longer at issue. I have decided it. They will be sold.”
Donna leaned back in relief, but was wise enough not to speak.
“We have not decided it,” said Rorton.
“I have decided it,” said Genserich. “And I am first.”
“Now,” said Rorton, turning away.
“He had best be killed,” whispered Aeson.
“No,” said Genserich.
“There may be others with him,” whispered Aeson.
“And who shall we kill?” asked Genserich.
“I do not know,” said Aeson, looking about.
“Gather gear, prepare packs,” said Genserich. “We are going to break camp.”
“Prepare to trek,” called Aeson. The cluster of men then broke apart, withdrawing from the place of deliberation, in which had been considered the fate of four women, who were no longer Panther Women.
“Remove the shackles from the slaves,” said Genserich. He looked about, at the forest, and river. “I am not comfortable here,” he said, glancing uneasily at Axel and myself. “We will wish to move swiftly.”
Aeson drew a key from his wallet, and bent to undo the shackles on the four neck-roped slaves. They remained in position. They had not been given permission to break position.
Axel and I stepped back, preparing to withdraw.
“Hold,” said Genserich. “I fear I must prevail upon you to accompany us.”
“Surely,” I said. “You are trekking to the coast, to selling poles. Our village lies to the west, true, but on the Alexandra. We will accompany you for a time. We will be grateful for your company. Return to us our weapons.”
“I think not,” said Genserich.
“How not?” I asked.
“Do you think I do not know a prime sleen, a tracking sleen, when I see one?” said Genserich. “No such animal would be found in an Alexandra village. It is too expensive. There would be no use for it, no point. I do not know who you are, or your business, but you are not villagers. I would suppose you are in league with those of whom we have heard, those of the camp of the great ship.”
“If so,” said Axel, “we can be of no interest to you. Give us back our weapons, and we will be on our way.”
“The sleen,” said Genserich, “was clearly hunting the slave, Vulo. Consider her flanks, her figure, her face. That is no village slave. She fled the camp of the great ship, and you were sent to retrieve her.”
“Then,” said Axel, “give her to us, and our weapons, and we will be on our way and concern you no longer.”
“Give away a prime slave?” said Genserich. “You must be mad. We took her, and the others, when we captured the camp.”
“I have my eye on the one called Tula,” said Aeson, “and Genak, I suspect, would not object to having the one called Mila at his feet.”
“What of the one called Vulo?” I asked. “Doubtless she is for Genserich.”