of sorts,” I said. I had never seen such a banner, which was narrow, and rectangular.
“It is a Pani banner,” he said.
The common military ensign is a metal standard, raised on its pole or staff, bearing its device, and, usually, identifying a unit, whether it be an army, a division, or a company. Commands may be given by means of the standards, and their motions. They may function much as drums or battle horns. On the other hand, by their means, too, one may, as in the early dawn, after a forced march, marshal and deploy troops silently. Men will die to protect their standards. If a general falls, it is expected that his standard bearer will be at his side. Wars have been fought to regain a lost standard.
“Prepare to disembark,” called Tyrtaios to the more than a hundred men on the vessel.
“I shall free a slave, and fetch her to the deck,” I said.
Several of the armsmen did not know she was on board.
Except on a round ship, and even on many of those, mariners do not welcome the presence of a free woman. Such, it is said, sow discord. Such are to be respected, but, in time, men grow hungry. It is a strain, even on a well-trained sleen, to circle meat it is forbidden to touch. The matter worsens, of course, if the free woman insists on the privileges of the deck, or, say, if she is careless of how she stands when the wind whips her robes, and matters may become intolerable indeed should she delight herself with certain pleasures not unknown to occasionally appertain to her sex, usually harmlessly, flirting with, or teasing, taunting, and tormenting men, confident in the inviolability of her freedom, perhaps in the possession of a shared Home Stone, and such. It is one thing, of course, to engage in such games in a theater, a street, or plaza, and quite another on a ship at sea, far from taverns, the relief of paga girls, and such. More than one woman began a voyage free and concluded it being sold in a distant port. Sometimes a round ship will carry slaves for the men, ship slaves. These are at the pleasure of the crew. The long ships, of course, the armed war knives of the sea, seldom depart with slaves aboard, though they may return with them.
“Master!” whispered the girl as the light of the small, shallow tharlarion-oil lamp fell upon her.
“Do not kneel,” I said.
She blinked against the light, which, in the darkness, dim as it was, must have seemed bright to her.
“The ship is still,” she said.
“We are disembarking,” I said.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“I do not know,” I said, “somewhere north of the Alexandra.”
She spoke softly as she had been warned to do, days before.
“Ankle,” I said.
She slid back, against the hull wall, and extended her left ankle.
I placed the small lamp on the planks and removed her shackle. “There are over a hundred men on board,” I said, “not counting mariners, with their officers. You are the only slave on board. Many do not know you are here. Stay close to me.”
“Surely Master can defend me, and keep me,” she said.
“It would be easier,” I said, “if you had the body of a tarsk and the face of a tharlarion.”
She stood up, and played with her hair, annoyingly, tossing and spreading it, and then, with both hands, brushing it behind her. She then stood straight and, with her small hands, smoothed down the tunic.
“But I do not have the body of a tarsk and the face of a tharlarion,” she said.
“Stay close to me,” I said, “very close.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
I had not put her to use in the hold, as I did not want her shared. Thus, for the days at sea, I had deemed that she would be available to none, not even to me, her master. I would be as deprived as the others. I did not wish to feast while others starved. I supposed an oddity of propriety, even honor, was involved in this, but, too, doubtless, a sense of prudence. Only a fool publicly counts his gold. Accordingly, I had taken pains to be muchly visible on deck, eating and sleeping there, taking my turn on the bench, and so on. In doing so, of course, I was acutely aware of the hunger of the men, and the danger it might pose, for I, too, shared their hunger.