turned toward me, startled.
"She is serving me," I said.
There were cries of astonishment.
"Beware, fellow," said a man. "That is Borton!"
"As I understand the common rules of a paga tavern, under which governances I understand this enclosure to function, I have use of this slave until I see fit to relinquish her, or until the common hour of closing, or dawn, as the case may be, unless I pay overage. Alternatives to such rules are to be made clear in advance, say, by announcement or public posting."
"She was not serving you!" said a fellow.
"Were you serving me?" I asked the slave.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"And have I dismissed you from my service?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said.
"That is Borton!" said a man to me.
"I am pleased to make his acquaintance," I said. Actually this was not entirely candid on my part.
"Who are you?" asked Borton.
"I am pleased to meet you," I assured him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"A pleasant fellow," I said, "one not looking for trouble." Borton cast aside the whip. His sword left its sheath.
Men moved back.
"Aii!" cried a man. My sword, too, had left its sheath. "I did not see him draw!" said a man.
"Let us not have trouble, gentlemen," urged Philebus.
"Wait!" cried Borton, suddenly. "Wait! Wait! I know you! I know you!"
I glanced quickly to my left. There was a fellow there. I thought I could use him.
"It is he, too, who was at the Crooked Tarn!" cried Borton, wildly. "It is he who stole the dispatches, he who so discomfited me, he who made off with my coins, my clothing, my gear, my tarn!"
I supposed Borton could not be blamed entirely for his ill will. The last time I had seen him, before this evening, I aflight, astride his tarn, hovering the bird, preparing shortly to make away, he had been in the yard of the Crooked Tarn, chained naked there, still soaked wet from the bath, to a sleen ring. It had been strong enough to hold him, despite his size and strength, even when he had seen me, which occurrence had apparently caused him agitation. I had waved the courier's pouch to him, cheerily. There had been no hard feelings on my part.
I had not been able to make out what he had been howling upward, crouching there, chained, what with the wind, and the beating of the tarn's wings. Several of the fellows at the Crooked Tarn had intercepted him, rushing through the yard, I suppose on his way to inquire after me. Coinless, chained, naked, utterly without means, absolutely helpless, he would have been held at the Crooked Tarn until his bills were paid or he himself disposed of, say, as a work slave, his sale to satisfy, as it could, his bills. He had been redeemed, I gathered, by other fellows in the command of Artemidorus, and then freed. Certainly he was here now, not in a good humor, and with a sword in his grasp.
"He is a thief and spy!" cried Borton. Men leaped to their feet.
"Spy!" I heard.
"Seize him!" I heard.
"Spy! Spy!"
"Seize him!"
I suddenly lost sight of Temione, buffeted aside, falling among the men. Borton was pressing toward me. I seized the fellow to my left by his robes and flung him across Borton's path. Fellows pressed in. Borton was in the dirt, expressing dissatisfaction. With my fist, clenched on the handle of the sword, I struck a fellow, to my right. I heard bone. He spit teeth. There was no time to apologize. I spun about and fell to my hands and knees, men seizing one another over me. I rose up, spilling three or four fellows about. I then pushed and struck my way through men, most of whom I think could not clearly see me in the throng, broke free, and vaulted over the low railing, to hurry through the darkness toward the Vosk.
"There he goes!" cried a fellow. I heard some girls crying out and screaming, in terror, some probably struck, or kicked or thrust aside, or stepped on, or trampled, in the confusion. Slave girls seldom
"She is serving me," I said.
There were cries of astonishment.
"Beware, fellow," said a man. "That is Borton!"
"As I understand the common rules of a paga tavern, under which governances I understand this enclosure to function, I have use of this slave until I see fit to relinquish her, or until the common hour of closing, or dawn, as the case may be, unless I pay overage. Alternatives to such rules are to be made clear in advance, say, by announcement or public posting."
"She was not serving you!" said a fellow.
"Were you serving me?" I asked the slave.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"And have I dismissed you from my service?" I asked.
"No, Master," she said.
"That is Borton!" said a man to me.
"I am pleased to make his acquaintance," I said. Actually this was not entirely candid on my part.
"Who are you?" asked Borton.
"I am pleased to meet you," I assured him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"A pleasant fellow," I said, "one not looking for trouble." Borton cast aside the whip. His sword left its sheath.
Men moved back.
"Aii!" cried a man. My sword, too, had left its sheath. "I did not see him draw!" said a man.
"Let us not have trouble, gentlemen," urged Philebus.
"Wait!" cried Borton, suddenly. "Wait! Wait! I know you! I know you!"
I glanced quickly to my left. There was a fellow there. I thought I could use him.
"It is he, too, who was at the Crooked Tarn!" cried Borton, wildly. "It is he who stole the dispatches, he who so discomfited me, he who made off with my coins, my clothing, my gear, my tarn!"
I supposed Borton could not be blamed entirely for his ill will. The last time I had seen him, before this evening, I aflight, astride his tarn, hovering the bird, preparing shortly to make away, he had been in the yard of the Crooked Tarn, chained naked there, still soaked wet from the bath, to a sleen ring. It had been strong enough to hold him, despite his size and strength, even when he had seen me, which occurrence had apparently caused him agitation. I had waved the courier's pouch to him, cheerily. There had been no hard feelings on my part.
I had not been able to make out what he had been howling upward, crouching there, chained, what with the wind, and the beating of the tarn's wings. Several of the fellows at the Crooked Tarn had intercepted him, rushing through the yard, I suppose on his way to inquire after me. Coinless, chained, naked, utterly without means, absolutely helpless, he would have been held at the Crooked Tarn until his bills were paid or he himself disposed of, say, as a work slave, his sale to satisfy, as it could, his bills. He had been redeemed, I gathered, by other fellows in the command of Artemidorus, and then freed. Certainly he was here now, not in a good humor, and with a sword in his grasp.
"He is a thief and spy!" cried Borton. Men leaped to their feet.
"Spy!" I heard.
"Seize him!" I heard.
"Spy! Spy!"
"Seize him!"
I suddenly lost sight of Temione, buffeted aside, falling among the men. Borton was pressing toward me. I seized the fellow to my left by his robes and flung him across Borton's path. Fellows pressed in. Borton was in the dirt, expressing dissatisfaction. With my fist, clenched on the handle of the sword, I struck a fellow, to my right. I heard bone. He spit teeth. There was no time to apologize. I spun about and fell to my hands and knees, men seizing one another over me. I rose up, spilling three or four fellows about. I then pushed and struck my way through men, most of whom I think could not clearly see me in the throng, broke free, and vaulted over the low railing, to hurry through the darkness toward the Vosk.
"There he goes!" cried a fellow. I heard some girls crying out and screaming, in terror, some probably struck, or kicked or thrust aside, or stepped on, or trampled, in the confusion. Slave girls seldom
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