move east on the Alexandra for in that direction lay Shipcamp and if she moved west that would put her in the wake of the mariners and mercenaries who had surprised Genserich’s camp. She would, presumably, initially, try to set a difficult trail away from the river, which one might depart from in any direction, and then, later, return to the river. She would wish to cross the river, sooner or later, and then move south, particularly given the lateness of the season.
It was a gamble, surely. How soon, and where, might she return to the river? I had no way of knowing, but there are likely moves in the game. Certainly the opponent has objectives, and is playing to win. By now, given the recency of her flight, and the likely prompt detection of her departure, she would doubtless anticipate an immediate pursuit, if one were to be made. Accordingly, if her backtrail remained empty, that would be taken to mean either that no pursuit was in progress or, more likely, that her flight had been successful. If it were not successful, presumably, given the recency of her flight, and a prompt pursuit, a tracker or trackers would be close behind her, perhaps only some Ehn away. Judicious observations at various intervals would be quite sufficient to establish that this was the case, or not the case. By now, she would be confident that it was not the case. She might then be willing, I supposed, to terminate her venturing away from her likely goal, and turn back to seek it, the river. Presumably, alone, and particularly vulnerable to the elements, she would wish to cross the river as soon as possible. How fortunate, I thought, that we give them so little to wear.
So, lacking sleen, and having no viable trail to follow, I rose up, gathered my pack and weapons, and went to the river.
Chapter Forty-Eight
I crouched in the bushes, elated.
There was a seeming movement to the side, and I glanced to my right, quickly. But it was only a rustle, and shadows, stirred by the wind in the brush. I had sensed, from time to time, I might be accompanied in the forest, but if something was there, as I supposed it was not, I did not think it was concerned with me. Certainly it had given no threatening evidence of its presence.
Through the branches I could see the broad, shimmering vista of the Alexandra before me. There were no signs of patrols from Shipcamp along the shore nor of the small sounding boats which might be testing the river or preceding the slow, stately journey of the great ship to the sea. Either the ship had not yet reached this point, perhaps still moored upriver, or had already passed. I saw no advantage in delaying my crossing, supposing that I could manage it. I must manage it, somehow. Making it sooner, rather than later, also minimized the danger of being detected by our visitors from the coast, who had so discomfited Genserich and his band, and left with four stripped, neck-roped slaves, once Panther Women. They would have already passed this point.
I had planned astutely, and had carried out my plan flawlessly. I congratulated myself on my cleverness. How clever was Margaret Alyssa Cameron! Then I lifted my hand and, with my fingers, touched my collar. How absurd was that thought! Who was this Margaret Alyssa Cameron? I was not Margaret Alyssa Cameron. She was a free woman. I was a slave. I was not she. I was Laura, so named at the pleasure of masters, a slave, like many others, of Pani Warriors. I was a slave. I knew that. It was indisputable. The former Margaret Alyssa Cameron no longer existed; she who had once been she was now Laura, merely another Gorean slave girl.
Even on Earth I had sensed myself a slave. And here there was no ambiguity about the matter. Here it was so not only in the aching, longing reality of the heart, desiring to belong to and serve a master, but in the full, implacable reality of fact, truth, and law. I was rightless goods, merchandise, a slight, collared, curvaceous beast, subject to purchase and sale, and knew myself such!
But I was no ordinary slave. I was an extraordinarily clever slave. I had escaped. I had eluded the masters.
I looked across the Alexandra.
How bright, how clever, how superior, I was! I had eluded the masters. What slave can manage that?