31 Placation; In the Slave Wagon The iron door opened

"Come out," he said.

I think I had been in the slave wagon for two days. It was again evening outside. I hastily adjusted the rolled cloth belt and the slave strip, tucking it in. I touched my hair, worried about it. Then I rose to my feet and hurried to the door. There he took me by the arm and conducted me down the stairs. I was pleased he did this, as I had not walked for a time, and was a little unsteady, and might have stumbled. A campfire was lit and near it were Mirus, and Tupita. She seemed radiant. I was startled to look upon Mirus. He seemed much recovered. When the man, who still wore a mask, removed his hand from my arm, I went timidly to Mirus, and knelt before him. "A slave is pleased," I whispered. "Master looks much stronger." Then I put down my head, frightened. He still looked upon me with severity. It had been only because of the intercession of Tupita, as I recalled, that I had been spared.

"Cook," said the man with the mask.

"Yes, Master," said Tupita, happily. "Come, Tuka, help me!"

"Yes, Mistress!" I said. I called her "Mistress," because I assumed she must be first girl. The men did not correct this impression, so she must be first girl. When not in their presences, whether I called her "Tupita," or whatever her name might now be, would be up to her. I did not doubt, however, but what she would let me use her name to her, whatever it might now be, when we were alone. As she had called me "Tuka," and had not been corrected, I assumed I still was, for the time being at least, or until Masters wished otherwise, "Tuka." Together we prepared a meal, cooked over the campfire. There were supplies and utensils in the wagon box. I think it gave both Tupita and myself much pleasure, preparing a small amount of food for particular masters, and hoping to please them by it, is not one paga slaves, or work slaves, often enjoyed. It is a different matter altogether to labor in a tavern kitchen, at a narrow task, or to stir the cooking pots in a work camp, which must feed perhaps a thousand slaves. Indeed I had never cooked in the work camp or even in the tavern, though in the latter place I had labored from time to time with Ina, usually naked, on my knees, at the washing tubs. Happily, Tupita did most of the real cooking, while I mostly watched and fetched. I wished I knew more about cooking. I was eager to please masters in this way, too. Too, I thought it was something I should know how to do. What if it were to be required of me? I was afraid then that if I did not do well I might be punished.

While Tupita and I busied ourselves in this fashion the men spoke of politics, of tharlarion, of war, and arms.

When we were ready we put the food on plates and proffered it to the men, kneeling before them, lifting the plates to them. Tupita lifted the plate to Mirus. I lifted the plate to the man who wore the mask. I hoped Tupita had cooked the food well! "Good," said Mirus, congratulating Tupita. "Excellent," said the stranger to Tupita. Tupita knelt back, muchly pleased. I, too, knelt back, pleased, though to be sure little of the credit was due to me. Tupita and I would wait to see if, and when, we would be fed. But after the free persons had taken a few bites, eating first, thus ritualistically in the Gorean fashion expressing the difference between themselves and us, and their precedence. Mirus shoved a bit of food to one side of his plate, from which Tupita happily, helped herself. The stranger then picked up a tiny piece of food from his plate and indicated that I should lean forward. He then put it in my mouth. He did this at various times throughout the meal. I was being fed by hand. Once I tried to catch at, and suck and lick at his fingers, eagerly, surreptitiously, but his eyes warned me to desist. Later he let me finish the food on his plate. I was famished. He had not chosen fatten me in the confinements of the slave wagon. I had had only some more bread, and a raw vegetable. From time to time during the meal Tupita had cast a glance at me, smiling, as though she had some secret. I did not understand what she might have in mind, if anything. Once or twice I glanced at Mirus, but his eyes were severe.

I wiped my hands on my thighs.

Tupita was a good cook, indeed!

Then, while the men continued to talk, we attended to domestic tasks, suitable for us, consequent upon the completion of the meal. I found a kind of fulfillment, and reassurance, and confirmation of what I was, in doing these things. I was particularly pleased to do them before the stranger. I wanted him to see me performing these tasks. Too, I would have loved to do small tasks for him, even if he did not see me do them, such things as sewing his tunic or, as I had for Aulus, polishing his boots.

We were then finished with the work and came and knelt by the fire, Tupita and I, slaves.

I would soon, I suspected, now that the work was done, be returned to the slave wagon.

I wanted to hurry about the fire, and throw myself on my belly before the stranger, tears in my eyes, covering his feet and ankles with kisses, his helpless slave, begging his touch. Surely he knew me! My belly burned, my thighs flamed. I put down my head. I hoped he could not smell me.

"My friend," said the stranger to Mirus.

Tupita drew back a little. Only in a moment or two did I understand her action. "Yes," said Mirus.

"She is pretty, isn" t she?" asked the stranger.

"She is beautiful," said Mirus, regarding Tupita.

"I mean the other one," said the stranger.

I suddenly knelt very straight, back on my heels. I did not understand what was going on.

"She?" asked Mirus.

"Put you shoulders back, thrust out your breasts, girl," said the stranger. I obeyed.

"Yes, she," said the stranger.

Mirus regarded me. I felt very much a slave. "She is acceptable," he said. His voice was dry, and cold.

The stranger then took a length of binding fiber from his wallet and walked about the fire. I assumed he was going to bind me for some purpose or other. Perhaps he was not pleased that I had tried to suck and lick at his fingers when he had fed me. Perhaps I was to be put back bound, as a punishment, in the slave wagon. I hoped he did not intend to strangle me, or give the fiber to Mirus, that he might do so. Certainly it had been a small thing, and I could hardly have helped myself, with the feelings I had toward him, and being a slave. I might even have done so if I had been a free woman, in a mute, slave-like plea for attention! Surely a girl would never be punished for such a thing, or with little more than an angry, impatient cuff.

But he went not to me but to Tupita.

"What are you doing?" asked Mirus.

"Binding a slave," he said.

He, as she knelt, pulled her wrists behind her, crossed them, and bound them together. He then crossed her ankles and, with the same length of fiber, bound them to her wrists. Fulvius had earlier tied me in much the same manner. It is a common slave tie. In it the female is fastened in a position of subservience, cannot rise to her feet, is well displayed, cannot defend herself, and is utterly helpless.

I suddenly feared they wanted to tie Tupita in this way so that she would be unable to interfere in whatever they planned to do to me.

"Why have you bound her?" asked Mirus, puzzled.

His puzzlement reassured me. If this were some plan on the part of the stranger and him presumably he would not have asked this question. Mirus, then, I was relieved to note, seemed to much in the dark on this matter as I.

"Master, may I speak?" I asked the stranger.

"No," he said.

Tupita was smiling.

I them realized that this must be some scheme into which she had entered with the stranger. She and he seemed to understand what was transpiring, even if Mirus and I did not.