had moved, it sounded as if objects of iron or steel might be enclosed. Its contents, I gathered, if not fragile, were of considerable importance. I did not understand its importance. Perhaps it contained tools, or materials to which tools might be pertinent. As nearly as I could tell, in any event, it was an unusual form of cargo.
The box I was carrying was not heavy.
Men do not overburden slaves, no more than they would overburden any animal of the size or weight of a slave. It would be impractical, and foolish, to do so.
“May I speak, Master?” I asked the newcomer, who stood near me.
“You are a bold slave,” he said.
“Forgive me, Master,” I said. At least I had not been cuffed.
“You may speak,” he said.
“There was a second ship,” I said.
“Its landing would be different, its route would be different,” he said.
“I feared,” I said, “it might have encountered some misfortune.”
“That is unlikely,” he said. “What is your interest?”
“Nothing,” I said.
I suddenly tensed, beneath his gaze. “Forgive me, Master,” I said. “I am only a barbarian. There was a man, a master. I saw him in the barbarian lands. I think it was he who brought me to civilization and the collar.”
“When did you last see him?” asked the newcomer.
“Before my sale, in Brundisium,” I said, “I enclosed in an exposition cage.”
“Did you see him at your sale?” he asked.
“No,” I said, “but there were torches about the block. I could not well see into the tiers. They were muchly dark.”
“But you heard the bidding,” he said. “Surely you sensed the restlessness of the men, their interest.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Would you recognize his voice?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said. How could he think that I could not tell that voice, though he had said but a few words in my presence?
“Did you hear him bid?” he asked.
“No, Master,” I said.
“Forget about him,” he said.
I was silent.
“That will be difficult for you to do, I gather,” he said.
“It was at his feet that I lay bound and naked, in a warehouse, a large building, in the barbarian lands.”
“They have buildings in the barbarian lands?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Interesting,” he said. “I thought you might live in huts, or tents, or wagons, as the Kataii, or Paravachi.”
“Most of us do not,” I said, “Master.”
“I looked up at him, as I lay before him, and he looked down upon me,” I said.
“And he saw you in the exposition cage,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“But he neither bought you, nor even bid upon you?”
“No, Master,” I said.
“Forget about him,” he said.
I was again silent.
“He was a slaver, I take it,” he said.
“I gather so,” I said.
“Then,” said he, “dismiss him from your mind. To him, I assure you, you and such as you are worthless, naught but meaningless collar meat. You are no more important to such a man than one vulo amongst others, one verr amongst others, one tarsk amongst others.”
“Yes, Master,” I said. Tears formed in my eyes.
“Have no fear,” he said, “you will change hands many times, and have many masters.”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered.
“You will be muchly handled, and well used,” he said, “and as the worthless slave you are.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“And you will strive to serve each with perfection,” he said, “each with all the perfections of the female slave.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You should hate him,” he said.
“Master?” I said.
“You were deprived of your freedom,” he said. “It was he who brought the searing iron to your flank, marking you indisputably for all to see as mere goods. It was he who arranged it that your neck would be encircled with the metal band of bondage, closed and locked in place. It was he who put you upon the block, to be sold to the highest bidder. It was he who made it such that you must kneel to men, and hope to please them. It was he who brought you to kennels, cages, and chains. How you must hate him!”
“Forgive me, Master,” I said, “but I do not.”
“Surely you resent the helpless servitude and choiceless degradation in which you have been placed.”
I lowered my head.
“Speak,” he said.
“It is my hope,” I said, “to be found pleasing by my masters.”
He stepped back a bit.
I straightened my body a little, lifted my head a little.
“You are a pretty one,” he said.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
“What is your name?” he said.
“I have not been named,” I said. “I have been identified by my lot number, one hundred