I stood there, beneath the pole, by Ute's side. I held the greasy pan. "The girl's wrists," said Ute, "are tied together, and then she is tied. Suspended by the wrists, from the high pole. Her ankles are tied together and tied, some six inches from the ground, to the iron ring. That way she does not much swing.

I looked at her, holding the pan.

"This is a whipping pole," said Ute. "You may go now, El-in-or."

I turned and fled back to the kitchen shed, to clean the pan. After that I seldom shirked my work, and I made, generally, much effort to do my work well. It only occurred to me later that Ute had not had me whipped.

Often during the day, and sometimes for days at a time, most of the tarnsmen of Rask of Treve would be aflight. The camp then would seem very quiet. They were applying themselves to the work of the tarnsmen of Treve, attack, plunder and enslavement.

A girl would cry, "They return! and we, eager in our work tunics, would run to the center of the camp to greet the returning warriors. Many of the girls would be laughing and waving, leaping up and down, and standing on their tiptoes. I did not betray such emotions, but I, too, found myself eager, almost uncontrollably excited, to witness the return of the warriors. How fine they were, such magnificent males! I hated them, of course, but, too, I, like the others, most eagerly anticipated their return. And most of all was I thrilled to witness the return of their leader, the mighty laughing Rask of Treve, whose very capture loop I had felt on my own body, whose collar I wore, whose I was. How pleased I was to see him bring back yet another girl, bound across his saddle, a new prize. How skeptically, and eagerly, with the other girls, I would silently appraise her, comparing her, always unfavorably, on some ground or another, with myself. Once Rask of Treve, from the saddle, looked directly at me, finding me among the mere work slaves, in their work tunics. I had felt an indescribable emotion, an utter weakness, when our eyes had met. I put my hand before my mouth. How magnificent he seemed, how mighty among those mighty warriors, he, their fierce leader.

Many of he girls ran to individual warriors, their eyes shining, leaping up and seizing the stirrups, pulling themselves up and putting their cheeks against the soft leather boots. And more than one was hauled to the saddle and well held and kissed before being thrown again to the ground.

When the tarnsmen would return, with their captives and booty, there would be a feast.

I would serve at this feast, but when it came time for dancing silks and slave bells to be withdrawn from the ornate, heavy chests, I would be dismissed to the shed, where I would be locked, alone.

"Why am I never belled and put in dancing silk?" I demanded of Ute. I could scarcely believe that it was I, Elinor Brinton, who so protested. Yet I heard the words. "Why am in never allowed, late, to serve the men in their tents?"

"No man has called for you," said Ute.

And so I, my work tunic removed, would be locked in the shed at night. I would lie there and, through the crack beneath the heavy plank door, hear the music, the laughing, protesting screams of the girls, the laughter, the shouts of satisfaction, of victory of the men.

But no man had called for me. No man wanted me.

How pleased I was to be spared the ignominious usage to which the other girls, my unfortunate peers, were subjected! How I pitied them. How I rejoiced that I did not share their fate. I screamed with rage, and taking up handfuls of dirt, hurled it against the interior walls of the shed, within which I was locked. At the third or fourth hour of the morning, one by one, the girls, their silks now removed, would be returned to the shed. How stimulated they seemed, how untried. How they laughed and talked to one another! How vital they seemed! We had work the next day! Why did they not go to sleep? One would sing or hum to herself. Another would cry out some name, that of a tarnsman, to herself with pleasure. "Ah, Rim," she would cry out, twisting in the darkness, "I am truly your slave!"

I pounded my fists in the dirt, angry.

But they would be exhausted in the morning! In the morning they would be miserable enough! In the morning Ute would almost have to use whips to rout such lazy girls out of the shed!

I was pleased no one wanted me. I wept.

Sometimes there were visitors to the camp of Rask of Treve, though, one gathers, there were men in the confidence of Treve.

Generally they were merchants. Some brought food and wines. Others came to buy the plunder of the tarnsmen. Several of my work-mates were sold, and others, captured, brought in on tarnback, took their place, perhaps to be sold as well in their turn.

When I would, I would manage, in my daily tasks, to pass by the tent of Rask of Treve, that large, low tent, on its eight poles, of scarlet canvas lined with scarlet silk.

It was convenient to pass by the tent, you understand, for it was in the center of the camp, and thus often lay on the shortest route from place to place to place within the palisade.

Sometimes I saw the dark-haired girl, in red silk with the two golden bangles on her left ankle, when I passed by the tent. Sometimes I saw other girls. Once or twice I saw a stunningly figured blond girl in brief yellow silk. It seemed Rask of Treve had his choice of beautiful women.

I hated him!

One afternoon, after I had been some three weeks in the camp. Rask and his tarnsmen returned from a raid far to the north.

He had raided the slave compound of his old enemy, Haakon of Skjern. Among the new slaves brought to the camp were Inge and the Lady Rena of Lydius! Lana had not been captured. Inge and Rena were the only ones I knew among the new girls.

The morning following their capture, as I had been, they, and the others, were collared. They, like I, had spent their first night in the tent of the women. Following their collaring, however, as I had been, they were sent to the shed. When Rask had collared Inge he had shaken her blond head with his large hand. He seemed fond of her. And she had dared to put her cheek against his hand. How shameless she had become! Once of the scribes, she was now only a wanton, shameless slave girl! I wanted to tear her hair and eyes out! How pleased I was, and how startled she was, and the others, when Rask sent them to the shed, where they would be issued work tunics and find themselves work slaves in the camp! How Inge and Rena rejoiced when they found themselves forced to their knees before Ute! But Ute did not even let them rise.

They looked at her with horror.

"I am Ute," Ute told them. "I am first girl among the work slaves. You will obey me. You will be treated precisely as the other girls, neither better nor worse. If you do not obey me, exactly and promptly, in all things, you will be beaten." They looked at her, scarcely comprehending.

"Do you understand?" asked Ute.

"Yes," said Inge.

"Yes," said Rena.

"The slave, El-in-or," said Ute, "stand forward."

I had been hiding in the background. Ordered by Ute, I came forward. I saw Inge and Rena exchange glances of pleasure. I was frightened. "This is one of my girls," said Ute, "as you are. You will not be cruel to her." "Ute!" protested Inge.

"Or I will have you beaten," said Ute.

Inge looked at her, angrily.

"Do you understand?" said Ute.

"Yes," said Inge.

"Yes," said the Lady Rena of Lydius.

"El-in-or," said Ute, "take these new slaves and get them work tunics, and then return them to me, and I shall assign them their duties for the day." Inge and Rena, and the other new girls, followed me, and I took them to the chest at the side of the shed, where I could find them their simple, brief garments of brown rep-cloth, which raiment would constitute their sole work garment in the camp of Rask of Treve.