"It is a suitable answer," said Aemilianus. I drew a deep breath. That, I feared, had been a close one.

"You are in slave chains, observed Aemilianus.

"It is fitting for me, Master," she said. "I am a slave."

"What is your name?" he asked.

"I have no name," she said. "I have not yet been named."

"You were eager to serve Cosians," he said.

"Or any man, Master," she whispered.

"You were not pleasing," he said.

"Forgive me, Master!" she said.

"Put her to one side," said Aemilianus, "and bring forth the other female." Two men took the former Lady Publia, now an unnamed female slave, by the arms and pulled her to one side, where they put her on her on her belly on the deck, her chained wrists under her.

In another moment another figure, also in sirik, was produced. The sturdy collar of the sirik, from which the central vertical chain depended, could not be seen on her in front, or at the sides, because of her veil. One could see it, of course, at the back of her neck, below the white, scarflike turban. Too, of course, once could see, in front, the dependent chain, the wrist rings and ankle rings, and such. I saw the figure's eyes, frightened, meet mine as she was drawn forth, with small, hurried steps. She was put on her knees before Aemilianus. She looked to one side and saw the former Lady Publia, naked, in sirik, lying on her belly, on the deck.

"Consider," said Aemilianus, "the exciting costume in which the prisoner appears before us, the baring of so much of the arms, the baring of the calves, the ankles, the feet, the cling of it, indicating it conceals no undergarments but only female, how closely it resembles in may ways that of some simple, humble, impoverished, low-caste maid, and yet how cleverly it is contrived to display its occupant, and in a fashion calculated to stimulate the capture appetites of vigorous men, men accustomed to look upon females as slaves and loot, as prizes and pleasures." There was assent to this. I am sure that more than one man there wished to tear those taunting rags from the beauty they bedecked.

The former Lady Publia, lying at the side, groaned. A fellow kicked her. She was then silent.

"Are these ingenious rags yours?" asked Aemilianus of the figure kneeling before him.

"No," she said.

"They belonged once, did they not, to a woman called Lady Publia, of Ar's Station?"

"Yes," she said.

"Why are you wearing them?" asked Aemilianus.

"I wore them that I not be recognized," she said.

"You would fear then," he asked, "to be recognized?"

"Yes," she said.

"You had wished to be taken, perhaps, for the former Lady Publia, of Ar's Station?"

"Yes," she said.

"Let us see who this woman is," said Aemilianus, "who has disguised herself as the former Lady Publia, and who for some reason, it seems, fears to be recognized." He made a small sign. A man then, carefully, not hurrying, removed the veil and turban.

The free woman knelt very straight. She held her head up, her neck in the closely fitting, now-visible collar, not trying to hide anything.

"Is she recognized? asked Aemilianus.

"She is," said more than one man, grimly.

"I think I understand now," said Aemilianus, "why you feared to be recognized." Lady Claudia was silent.

"You are the traitress, Lady Claudia," he said.

"Yes," she said.

"You attempted escape," he said.

"Yes," she said.

"But you have not escaped, have you? he asked.

"No," she said. "I have not escaped." In a way, I thought that this was ironic. On the piers, had Cosians swarmed over them, doing slaughter, and, where it pleased them, making slaves, her beauty, which was considerable, bared and submitted, might have found favor with conquerors. She might even have been thrown chained to an officer, thenceforth to be his and serve him with perfection, at least until, say, he might tire of her, and, say, give or sell her to another. She might even have served in her way as a souvenir to one fellow or another of the action at Ar's Station. More mercy might she then have found in the wielder of a bloody sword on the piers than in the abstractions of the justice of her own city. The man with the sword is at least swayable; he is at least human and real.

"You have been found guilty of treason against your city, and are under sentence of impalement, " said Aemilianus. "Do you gainsay either of these assertions?" "No," she said.

Aemilianus turned to Marsias, who lay nearby, wounded, reclining on one elbow, on a pallet. "Marsais," said he, "have you the strength to carry out the sentence?"

The man nodded.

"Do you, Lady Claudia," asked Aemilianus, "regret your treason?" "Keenly," she said.

"For you were apprehended," he said.

"Yes," she said. "But it goes much beyond such simplicities."

"Speak," he said.

"I have learned," she said, "in the cell, and in the arms of a man, what I am, truly. I forsook the softness and the reality of my being for ambition and cruelty. I had not understood earlier what it was to be a woman, or the joys, and meaning, of service and love. I sought power when I, rightfully, should have been subject to it, reveling in helplessness, submission and love. I did great wrong in seeking, one such as I, to interfere in the destiny of states, which is not my province. I have brought pain to myself and others. I am pleased only that my acts, as far as I know, had no consequences seriously deleterious to my city or her citizens."

"You accept the justice of your impalement?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "as I am a free woman. But I think it would be more appropriate if I were fed to sleen."

"Such things are for slaves, he said.

"Yes, Commander," she said. "Look over there," he said, indicating the former Lady Publia, chained and prone. "That is a slave," he said.

"Yes," said Lady Claudia.

"Are you like her?" he asked, scornfully.

"Yes," she said.

The former Lady Publia, so helpless, looked at her, gratefully, with tears in her eyes.

"No, you are not," said Aemilianus, "for you are free."

"But I envy her," said Lady Claudia. "She is at least free to be what she is, and wholly, but I am not."

The slave, frightened, moved a little in her chains. The links made a tiny sound on the deck, near her ankles. Looking about, I saw that more than one man would have been interested in having her.

"Has a suitable spear been prepared?" asked Aemilianus.

"I have seen to it," said Marsias.

"Let her garments be removed," said Aemilianus.

It took but a moment to pull the rags back, and down, from her body. It would take another moment or so to remove them completely, for them to be cut or torn from her, as they were now held on her by the chaining of the sirik, that of her wrists. Men's eyes glistened. I heard soft whistles, the intakings of breath, small, almost inadvertent gasps, and other tributes, somewhat more vulgar, things such as small clicks and the smackings of lips, to her beauty, noises which would generally be expected to great the revelation of he beauty of a slave, rather than a free woman. She blushed, and yet was proud. I am sure, of her beauty. She did have superb slave curves. I did not doubt that what she would bring a good price in a slave market. Her entire body gloriously made clear a luscious hormonal richness and an exquisite femininity. She was a beautiful woman. The rags then had been cut from her and thrown to the side. She knelt then before us, beautifully. Many men, including myself, struck our left shoulders in applause.

There was little doubt that Aemilianus himself was impressed with her.

I think that any man might have been impressed with her, whether he found her a free prisoner on the deck of the Tais or in some slave market, chained on a bench, awaiting a buyer. "You could have been a bred slave," he said.