slave, she might soon be collared, and if the master were to dress his slave as a free woman, he would be jeopardizing her life. Custom and tradition, and sometimes law, are involved in these matters. The free woman may dress to please herself, but, too, it seems she is well advised to please herself by conforming, and strictly, to a variety of canons, canons of taste, custom, convention, and sometimes of law. In some respects, societally, she is less free than the slave. The culture does deem it important, and free women insist upon this, that a clear distinction be drawn between the free woman and the slave. The most obvious way to mark this distinction publicly and conveniently is the collar, or its absence, and garmenture, say, the robes of concealment as against a tunic, or camisk. One supposes that the slave might be dressed in a drab, form-concealing, shapeless sack, but men will not have it so. They are proud of their slaves, and wish to see them, and display them. If one had a beautiful kaiila, would one throw a blanket over it? So the brief tunic is a common slave garment. Men will have it so. Then, as might be expected, free women denounce the tunic as a shameful garment, and attempt, in terms of it, to shame its occupant. This is sometimes effective, for a time, with a new slave, but, sooner or later, the slave, at least when no free women are present, comes to revel in the lightness and freedom of such a garment, and its flattering betrayal of her beauty, as opposed to the hobbling impediments of cumbersome robes and veils, however resplendent, well-layered, and colorful. An additional point might be mentioned, relevant to slave garmenture, particularly with respect to its revealing nature, aside from the preferences of men, which is the supposed protection it affords to free women. The notion here seems to be that a roving tarnsman, a raider, a slaver, a girl hunter, and such, given the choice between a prey of obvious interest, say, a scantily clad slave girl, and one of an unknown quality, say, a free woman in the robes of concealment, given the risks involved, and such, is more likely to drop the slave loop about the slave than her exalted free sister. Who, it is said, would wish to risk his life for a tarsk? On the other hand, there is little doubt that the capture of a free woman, given the care with which they are guarded, the glory of capturing one, and such, is usually considered an estimable coup. A common test for a young tarnsman is to steal a free woman from an enemy city, bring her home, brand and collar her, and have her serve and dance before his family and friends at his victory feast. And the first wine at the feast, following her public licking and kissing of his whip, before which time no one may eat or drink, will be served to him by his new slave. Too, of course, one may always hope that the prey, when brought to the camp and stripped, may prove a prize. Most slaves, of course, were once free women, free insofar as a woman may be regarded as free, as not yet collared.
“Behold these slaves,” said the newcomer, gesturing to the tunicked slaves recently emerged from the forest. “Are they not of interest?”
Only too obviously were they of interest, judging from the responses of the men.
“Such, and many others,” said the newcomer, “serve in Tarncamp. They exist for your service and pleasure. You may buy them, or rent them, or visit them in one or another of the slave houses. The Pani, who are your employers, are generous with such meaningless baubles.”
Some of the men smote their left shoulders in approbation.
“And,” he said, “you know of the changes in Ar. Indeed, I am sure we owe the presence of some of you here to such changes.”
Several of the men looked uneasily at one another.
“We all know of defeat and flight,” he said, “the sorry fate of the occupational forces, of the rising of the men of Ar, of screaming crowds, diversely armed, of fires, of the decimation and disruption of troops, the desertion of officers, the stranding of units, of frequent withdrawals under fire, the confused retreats of mercenary prides, the breaking apart and scattering of free companies, of men, hungry and disorganized, hunted down and slaughtered like urts