"True," said Labienus. "There is much of honor in it."

"You will take the female with you?" asked Plenius, looking down at Ina, who was tied near us.

"Yes," I said.

"I wish you well," said Labienus, rising.

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

He clasped my hand. I did not cry out. I do not know if he fully realized what he had done to his hands. It was as though he had abandoned them in favor of transforming those parts of himself into some terrible tool, one for which there could be no conceivable purpose. Surely they could no longer perform precise tasks. He could not grasp a marking stick. He could not handle a sword. When he withdrew his hand from mine, though I think he had not meant to grip it firmly, my hand was bloody.

Labienus then, conducted by Titus, exited from.the hut. Plenius lingered, for a moment.

"I was much mistaken about you," I said. "You are, as I now understand, a man of honor."

"I have been taught honor," he said.

"Labienus," said I, "is an excellent teacher."

"He, and others," he said.

"I wish you well," I said. I was pleased that he had learned something of honor from his fellows.

"I wish you well," he said.

He then disappeared from the hut.

I looked down at Ina. She could not look up at me, for I had tied her on her knees, with her head down. In this particular tie, the Tharnan tie, as it is sometimes called, the ankles are crossed and bound and the head is tied down, fastened by a short tether running back to the ankles. Any pressure in this tie is, as usual, of course, at the back of the neck, not at the fragile, vulnerable throat. It can be used with chain collars, and such. The bands, as a last touch, are simply tied together behind the back.

"We should leave," said Marcus.

We were alone, with Ina, in the hut. "Yes," I said.

36 The Walls of Brundisium

"There," I said, "look there."

"Yes," said Marcus.

"Those," I said to Ina, "are the walls of Brundisium."

"I did not know it was so large a city," she said.

"It is one of the major coastal ports south of the delta," I said.

"See the many tents about the walls, to the north," said Marcus.

"Probably mostly those of the Cosians' expeditionary force in the north," I said, "that with which we traveled, south of the Vosk. They may be releasing fellows, or reassigning them. Brundisium is not to be blamed for not being able, or willing, to quarter so many within her walls."

"No," said Marcus.

We were dressed much as might be impoverished itinerants, in clothes we had picked up, here and there, in traveling southwest from the delta. Our share of coins from the brigands had facilitated these acquisitions. Marcus had given the Cosian uniform to one of the fellows in the hut. Some of the others took clothing from the brigands, which we had removed from them. Some other things, too, were in the hut. Many of our former group, however, had begun their journey, at least, in the uniforms of Ar. By now, hopefully, several of them had reached safety.

Marcus and I, with Ina, had made our way to Brundisium. There were three major reasons for coming to Brundisium. It lay in the direction which would probably be the least dangerous for us, given our desire to escape from the vicinity of the delta. Surely it would be an unexpected route for fugitives from the delta. To be sure, we must keep Marcus relatively quiet, for his accent, that of Ar's Station, would surely suggest that of Ar to folks who were alert to such things. That Ina, on the other hand, had such an accent would not be likely to attract undue attention, as she was a female, and clearly in our keeping. The folks in this area would, by now, given the fall of Ar's Station, and the general success of Cos on the continent, be familiar with such accents in females. To be sure, most of the females encountered with such accents in this area would be likely to be in collars, already serving masters, or perhaps in transit, say, chained in slave wagons or being marched nude in coffles, or in temporary holding areas, on chains or in slave cages or slave pens, awaiting their sale or alternative disposition, such things. Secondly, one might then, presumably with relative safety, take a roundabout route to territories allied with or friendly to Ar, perhaps even going by way of Corcyrus or Argentum. Thirdly, and principally, I hoped to find my friend, Ephialtes, the sutler, in, or near, Brundisium, for he had been traveling with the expeditionary force. I wished to contact him for various reasons, among them the fact that he should be holding certain funds for me. After I had assured myself of the relative safety of Marcus and Ina, of course, it was my intention to venture to Torcadino, where I hoped to be able to convey intelligence of the affairs in the north to Dietrich of Tarnburg.

"It is beautiful!" said Ina.

"It is a lovely city, in a lovely setting," I said. One could see the harbor and, of course, beyond, gleaming Thassa, the sea.

I looked down at Ina.

She wore a sleeveless, calf-length brown dress, woven of the wool of the bounding hurt. This was, in spite of the lack of sleeves, clearly the garment of a free woman. That could be told by such things as its quality, length, sturdiness and opacity. It did not, for example, as might have rep cloth, a light, clinging fabric often used for slave garments, make obvious the lineaments of its occupant's figure. But, too, it was surely the sort of garment that would be likely to be worn only by a woman of the lower castes. It was a simple, plain, everyday work garment. I did, in spite of such features as its sturdiness and opacity, find it attractive on her. It was, of course, save sandals, all she wore.

"I cannot wear this!" she had cried, looking at it, shaking it out, when I had thrown it to her.

"Why not?" I had asked, genuinely puzzled. She was, at that time, in a belly cord and slave strips.

"Impossible!" she said.

"It is the garment of a free woman," I had said.

"It is a lower-caste garment!" she said. "I am of high caste!" Ina was, I had learned, of the Builders, one of the five high castes on Gor, the others being the Initiates, Physicians, Scribes and Warriors.

"I do not understand," I said. "You are delighted to be placed in slave strips, to be thigh-stripped and bare-breasted, and you would not mind, I gather, being inserted into a scandalous ta-teera, a revealing camisk or a brief, stunning slave tunic, such things, and you object to an almost full-length, modest garment of this sort."

"Certainly," she said.

"I do not understand," I said.

"These things are much different," she said.

"How?" I asked.

"As a free captive," she said, "it is appropriate that I wear slave strips or, say, a ta-teera. Thus might my captor amuse and delight himself, and shame and reveal me, and people might look upon me and say, 'What a beautiful, exposed captive! Perhaps she was of high caste, and now look at her. She is now in, say, a ta-teera, or if I were a slave it would quite appropriate for me, too, to wear such things, and I would delight in them, that even so much was granted me, and I, a lowly slave, would not dare to aspire to more!"

"Yes?" I said.

"But as a free woman of high caste," she exclaimed, "to be put in the garment of a free woman of low caste is unthinkable!"

"I see your point," I said.

She flung the garment angrily down.

"What are you doing?" she asked, apprehensively.

"I am removing my belt," I said.

"For what purpose?" she asked.

"You are going to be lashed as you never believed a woman could be lashed," I said.

She sank to her knees. "No," she said, "please."

"Then pick up the garment in your teeth," I said, "and bring it to me, on all fours."