being freed, so he need not concern himself further with that matter, and perhaps he did not trust another to unbind his slave. After all, she was beautiful, and she would be unable, as any slave, to resist any handling or caressing to which she might be subjected. Men are often proprietary where a slave is concerned; after all, they own her. To be sure, there was also an implicit lesson in this, a common Gorean lesson, that whether the slave is bound or free, chained or not chained, fed or not fed, beaten or not beaten, is not up to her but to her master, for she is his belonging.
I regarded Axel.
“You will be taking the barbarian back with you,” I said.
“Of course,” he said.
“I will bind and leash her,” I said, “and we will be on our way.”
“Where is Rorton?” he asked.
“I do not know,” I said, looking about.
“Beware!” screamed Axel.
Genserich spun about, startled, twisting to the side, Donna screaming, and the blade of the flung javelin, a flash of steel, tore through the collar of his tunic, leaving a tatter of cloth and a line of blood between his neck and shoulder, and lodged twenty paces beyond, quivering in a small Tur tree at the camp’s edge.
“Kill!” cried Axel to Tiomines, pointing toward Rorton. “No!” Rorton cried, and turned about, slipping, to run. Rorton had run no more than five steps before the weight of Tiomines struck against him and sent him rolling down the slope toward the shore. In an instant the sleen was on him, biting, and feeding.
Slaves screamed.
“Call him off!” I cried to Axel.
The sleen was dragging the body about, and shaking it, which, I gather, opens, tears, and loosens meat. In its eagerness, by the shore, its fur was covered by mud. Twice it was half in the water. Rorton’s head hung by skin to a part of the body.
“Call him back!” I said to Axel.
“No,” said Axel. “It is in its frenzy. It will not hear. It will not respond. Do not approach it, lest you, too, be seized and torn.”
“Is it always like this?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Sometimes there is a simple bite through the back of the neck, and then the feeding. Do not interfere with the feeding. The tamest of sleen are extremely dangerous when feeding.”
“Have you seen this before?” I asked.
“Once,” he said.
“It is ugly,” I said.
“Sometimes it is less so,” he said. “It is never pretty. It is a long time since Tiomines had a kill.”
“How long will he be like this?” I asked.
“Until his hunger is satisfied,” said Axel.
The sounds of the sleen’s growling, and feeding, though at the shore, carried to the camp.
“Winter is coming,” said Axel. “There will be ice in the river. You are aware of the urgency. We must to Shipcamp.”
“We need the sleen,” I said.
“We will have him,” said Axel. “The sleen is voracious. It feeds quickly.”
I could see Tiomines, by the shore, lift his head, and look about. He shook his head, and blood spattered about, even into the water.
“It will not be long now,” said Axel.
In a few Ehn Tiomines was ascending the slope to the camp. There seemed nothing unusual about his mien. He might have been returning from drinking at the river. Men parted, warily, to let him through. He approached Axel as usual, and, affectionately, rubbed his bloodied muzzle and fangs against Axel’s thigh. “Good, lad,” said Axel. The beast then, seemingly content, drew to one side, and lay down.
“We will attend to the body,” said Genserich.
“What is left of it,” said a man.
“Leave it for urts,” said Aeson, “or cast it into the river, for eels, for river sleen.” The river sleen is a small animal, seldom more than two or three feet in length, including the tail. Few weigh more than two or three stone. It is not to be confused with the common sleen, or the aquatic sleen, the sea sleen, which are large animals.
“No,” said Genserich.
“Why not?” asked Aeson.
“He was of the band,” said Genserich.
“Have it as you will,” said a man.
“I will,” said Genserich.
“Genserich is first,” said Aeson.
“Is there challenge?” inquired Genak, looking about.
“No,” said more than one man.
“Who is first?” asked Aeson.
“Genserich,” said the men.
“We will now attend to the body,” said Aeson. “Rorton was of the band.”
“Your hospitality, such as it was,” said Axel to Genserich, “has been acknowledged. You have been repaid with your lives. I trust that is sufficient. We have business, and cannot dally. We