“Thassa has her secrets as well as her ferocities.”
“The knowledge we bear is dangerous,” said Axel.
“It is the ost,” said my captor, “borne in the palm of one’s hand.”
“Tyrtaios?” said Axel.
“Yes,” said my captor, “our friend, Tyrtaios.”
“We must begin our trek south,” said Axel.
“I would give you Asperiche,” said my captor, “if you would find her of interest, but, I fear, she is already housed in the great ship.”
“Not in the great ship,” said Axel. “But in the small boat.”
He then went to one of the two small boats drawn up on the beach, that other than the one my captor had apparently used, from which he had removed his pack. There was a tarpaulin there and he flung it aside. Within, bound hand and foot, briefly tunicked, was the unconscious form of Asperiche.
“Tassa powder,” said Axel.
I had heard of Tassa powder in my slave training. The instructresses had delightedly informed us of its properties. It is a powder which may be undetectably added to any beverage, most commonly Ka-la-na, with the result that the individual who partakes of the beverage is soon rendered unconscious. The length of the unconscious state is partly determined by the individual involved and partly by the amount of the drug administered. The approximated weight of the individual involved and the desired length of the unconscious state are used to determine the dosage. It is a favorite of slavers. The delight of my instructresses, in regaling us with accounts of its effects, had to do largely with its administration to free women, who might sip it discreetly behind their veil in some assignation or tête-à-tête, in their rich robes of concealment, and later awaken naked and in chains, perhaps in sight of some flaming brazier from whose burning coals protrude marking irons.
Axel lifted Asperiche from the boat and put her half in the chill water, at the beach’s edge, and she began to cry out, and shudder, and was then lifted up, wide-eyed, and placed on her back, not far from me. She was bound with thongs. I was not pleased to see her here, so close to me. She was very beautiful. She belonged to my captor.
“Untie her,” said my captor. “See to whose feet she runs.”
Axel unbound Asperiche, and she looked at my captor, frightened. “Forgive me, Master,” she said. And then she ran to Axel of Argentum, knelt, and put her head down to his feet, trembling.
“Here,” said Axel, who drew from his wallet a small coin, a yellow coin, a gold tarsk, perhaps from Besnit or Harfax, where such coins are popular, and tossed it to my captor, who caught it. “Is that enough?” inquired Axel.
“I would give her to you, in friendship,” said my captor.
How pleased I was that he was ridding himself of her! But would he want me?
“No, no,” said Axel. “Is it enough?”
“Yes,” said my captor. “It is more than enough. It is several times her value. She is yours.”
Asperiche had her head to Axel’s feet, and was sobbing, with relief, and joy.
How, I wondered, could my captor bring himself to give up that beauty, for any amount of gold? To be sure, she, as I, was a property and would go for whatever coin or coins might be agreed upon by masters.
How joyful was Asperiche! She had found her master. But I had not found mine.
“Free my ankles,” I said, “and see to whose feet I run!”
Axel undid the small lace with which my ankles had been tied together, and I, tunicked, my hands braceleted behind me, sped to my captor, knelt, and put my head down to his feet.
“I would that I was yours,” I said.
“You are,” said Axel. “He is your master.”
“He is not my master!” I said.
“He bought you yesterday, from the Pani,” said Axel.
“Master?” I said.
“Yes, worthless slut,” he said, angrily. “I own you!”
I was then, suddenly, terrified to learn that I was his, that I belonged to him. He owned me, as a pair of sandals or a sleen might be owned. I had been shaken with the very sight of him long ago, in the great emporium, when I, who had so frequently fantasized myself a slave, and had profoundly sensed I was a slave, and I belonged in the collar, had found myself, for the first time in my life, to my trepidation and consternation, looked upon, regarded as, what I had so often conjectured myself to be, a slave, looked upon, regarded, literally, as a slave. I had