"Yes, Master!" she called to Octantius.

"And with pierced ears!" he called.

"Yes, Master!" she wept.

There was much laughter from the ring of men about. What a reduction in her status had taken place! What a lowly slave she had become! Besides the men of Octantius there were several others, too, who had gathered about, a small crowd, in fact.

"Will it not be amusing," called he to her, "to deliver your head to my superior, with its ears pierced."

There was laughter. She shuddered.

"Will it not?" he asked, sternly.

"Yes, Master!" she wept. There was more laughter.

"It has been reported to me that you have fought well," said Octantius to me.

I did not respond to him.

"Cut off her head," he said.

"No," I said.

"Deliver her to us and you will be spared," he said.

"No," I said.

"Very well," said he. "The choice is yours." He signaled to some fellows about him, crossbowmen. There were some ten of them. They drew their quarrels and placed them in the guide.

"Wait!" I said.

He lifted his hand, the bowmen then not leveling their weapons.

"The gold will never be paid for her!" I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Saphronicus," I said, "is dead."

He seemed suddenly startled.

I assumed, of course, surely a reasonable assumption, and apparently a correct one, that he was the agent of Saphronicus, commander of the forces of Ar in the north. Saphronicus, presumably the major conspirator in the north, would be the fellow most likely to direct Octantius and provide the reward.

"Saphronicus is not dead," said Octantius.

"He is dead," I insisted.

"How have you heard this?" inquired Octantius, smiling.

"I have heard it," I said. I had, of course, heard nothing of the sort. I hoped, of course, if Octantius did not have the gold with him, that there would now be doubt, in the event of the death of Saphronicus, as to its eventual appearance. I hoped in this way to buy time. I did not think they would be likely to kill Ina, who was now a very lovely slave, for nothing. There are obviously much better things to do with beautiful slaves. Keep them, to serve perfectly, subject to the full rigors of the mastery.

Octantius put back his head and laughed.

"Saphronicus is dead!" I insisted, addressing this more to the other fellows about than Octantius.

The men of Octantius, a rough crew on the whole, looked at one another uneasily. Too, as I have mentioned, there were now several others about also, a small crowd, and, as a matter of fact, now more than before. As fellows came in they naturally drifted to the circumference of the circle, and about it, to see what might be occurring.

"Octantius?" asked one of his men, in the ring.

"He is lying," said Octantius.

The men looked at one another.

"It is a game, a ruse, to buy time," said Octantius. "Can you not tell?"

I saw, to my satisfaction, that the men were not completely convinced of this. News, on Gor, of course, does not travel in a uniform, reliable fashion. Too, given the distances and the modes of transportation, and occasionally the hardships and peril of travel, it does not always move quickly. Too, it can depend on things as simple as the luck of a messenger, and who speaks to whom. There were doubtless many cities on Gor which did not even know, as yet, of the fall of Ar's Station. Too, as one might expect, in such a milieu, rumors tend to be rampant. If it is often difficult even in a Ubar's court, perhaps because of the shadings and distortions of reports from subsidiary cities and towns, to ascertain exactly what happened, one may well imagine the problems encountered by the populace in general, in the markets, the baths and taverns.

"Even if Saphronicus were dead, which he is not," said Octantius, angrily, "it does not matter."

The men looked at one another.

"The gold," said Octantius, angrily, lifting a pouch, on its string, from within his tunic, "is here!"

"Aii!" cried more than one man, pleased.

I had supposed that the gold would be with Octantius, as he had told me he would bring it with him, but I did not, of course, know that. A hundred pieces of gold, for example, is a great deal of money to be carrying about, particularly standardized tarn disks. Indeed, on Gor it is a fortune. It would not have been absurd if he had had with him not the gold, but only a note, to be drawn on one of the banks, like strongholds, on Brundisium's Street of Coins. Had that been the case I would have attempted to cast doubt on the value of the note. Many of the ruffians probably could not read. Too, they were the sort of men who would be inclined to distrust financial papers, such as letters of credit, drafts, checks, and such. Certainly such things were not like a coin in their fist or a woman in their arms.

"Challenge me," I invited Octantius.

He smiled.

"If you want her," I called to him, "let us do the game of blades."

He slipped the gold, on the strung pouch, the string about his neck, back in his tunic.

"She is naught but a property," I said. "Let her disposition ride then upon the outcome of sword sport."

"I think not," he said.

"Fight!" I said.

"Why should I fight?" he asked. "She is already, for most practical purposes, mine."

"Fight!" I said.

"For what purpose?" he asked. "What would I have to gain by fighting?"

"Coward!" I said.

"You do not know that," he said, "and, even if it were true, you could not know it."

"Coward!" I said again, angrily.

"I think I am brave enough, as men go," he said. "On the other hand, it is not my idea of bravery to leap off precipices or fling oneself into the jaws of larls."

"You acknowledge your cowardice?" I said.

"Your insults," he remarked, "are more germane to my intelligence than courage, that you should think to so simplemindedly manipulate me."

"Fight!" I said.

"I gather that you have already put an end to some of my men," he said, "and among them two or three who were presumably my superior in swordsmanship."

"If you do not fight," I said, "you will lose face before your men."

"I am not their captain," he said. "I am their employer."

"What is that which depresses no scale," I asked, "but is weightier than gold?"

"I do not care for riddles," he said.

"What of honor?" I asked.

"An inconvenience," he said, "an impediment on the path to power."

"You seem to me," I said, uncertainly, "one who might once have had honor."

"I have outgrown it," he said.

"The most dangerous lies," I said, "are those which we tell ourselves."

"Once, I had honor," said he, "long ago, in a place faraway, but I sacrificed it for a woman, who then mocked it, and trod it underfoot."

"What became of her?" I asked.

"When last I saw her," he said, "she was naked and in chains, gripping a stirring paddle, slaving over a great tub of boiling water in a public laundry."

"How came she there?" I asked.

"I put her there," he said.

"Recollect your honor," I said.

"Tomorrow will be soon enough to do that," he said.

There was laughter from the men ringing me.

"Send these against me then," I said, indicating the ring with my sword, "one by one!"

The fellows looked uneasily at one another.

"Bowmen," said he, "lift your weapons."

There were now two or three hundred men about. Many more had come in through the gate. The concourse was crowded, save for the open space in which I stood, Ina crouched behind me.

"I wish you well, Ina," I said.

"I wish you well, Master," she whispered.

"Take aim," said Octantius.

I was curious to know what it would be like to see the quarrels in flight toward my body. I wondered if I would be able to follow them in flight.

"Fire!" said Octantius.