My neck was sore.

"Now soon, sleen," gloated he, "will you see your Cosian masters beneath our blades!"

I stood unsteadily in the water. I could feel the leeches on my body, one on my back, another on my leg. Then, shuddering, I felt yet another. It was fastening itself near the first, on my back.

"Pull," ordered the fellow behind me.

Again I drew the craft forward, straining against the rope, it cutting into the side of my neck.

The sun was high overhead now.

We made little progress, it seemed, in closing the gap between ourselves and the alleged barge ahead. From time to time it was sighted again.

The men of Ar, in their boats, and wading, after a time, began to sing. The marsh echoed with their songs.

"What barge is that?" I asked, suddenly.

It, gliding by, poled by several men, seemed an apparition in the marsh. It was purple, and gilded, its bow in the graceful shape of the neck and head of a long-necked, sharp-billed gant, its stern carved to represent feathers, It had an open, golden cabin, covered with translucent golden netting. The poles propelling the craft were golden. Such a vessel made a startling, unconscionable contrast with the meanness, that wretched, ragged, numerous miscellany, of other craft about. Certainly it belonged not in the delta but in some canal or placid waterway.

"She wants to be in on the kill," said a fellow.

"She?" I said.

"Ina, Lady of Ar," said a fellow.

" 'Ina'," I said, "that could be the name of a slave." Such names, 'Ina', 'Ita', 'Tuna', 'Tula', 'Di', 'Lita' and such, are common slave names. They, and many such names, are worn by hundreds of women in bondage. Earth-girl names, such as 'Shirley', 'Linda', 'Jane', and such, are also commonly used as slave names. One girl, of course, may, from time to time, have many different names, according to the whim of her master, or masters. She is a domestic animal, to be named as the master pleases.

"That is no slave," said a fellow.

"No," laughed another, perhaps ruefully.

"That is Ina, Lady of Ar," said a man, "attached to the staff of Saphronicus, a political observer, said to be a confidant of, and to report to, the Lady Talena, of Ar, herself."

"Where is the barge of Saphronicus?" I asked.

"It is back there, somewhere, doubtless," said a man.

"Doubtless," I said.

"Other vessels pass you," said a man.

"Pull!" ordered the fellow behind me.

Again I put my weight against the rope, once more moving the sodden craft forward.

"Lie still," said the fellow crouching next to me.

I shuddered, lying in the sand. The reaction was uncontrollable, involuntary, reflexive.

"Still," he said. He held the bit of rence stalk, still smoking from the fire, to one of the creatures on my back. I could feel it pulling out of my skin. He then picked it from my back, dropping it to the side, with others.

I did not know how much blood I had lost, though I suppose, objectively, it was not much. How much can one of those creatures, even given the hideous distention of its digestive cavity, hold? Yet there had been many during the day. Many had released their hold themselves.

"That is the last one," observed the fellow, turning me about.

"My thanks," I said.

He had removed, by my count, eleven of the creatures. He had put them to the side. There are various ways in which they may be encouraged to draw out, not tearing the skin. The two most common are heat and salt. It is not wise, once they have succeeded in catching hold, to apply force to them. In this fashion, too often part of the creature is left in the body, a part, or parts, which must then be removed with a knife or similar tool.

"Bring a torch, here!" I heard a fellow call.

I was again, as was done with me at night, tethered between mooring stakes, my ankles to one, my neck to another. My wrists were held behind me, in the manacles.

"Friend," I said.

"I am not your friend," said he. "I am your enemy." He stood up, discarding the smoking rence.

"Call your officer to me," I said. "I would speak with him."

"That is for your keeper to do," said he, "not me."

"Ho!" called a fellow from a few yards away. "Look!"

"Kill it!" cried a fellow, joyfully.

"Here, help me!" said another. I heard the sounds of two or three men.

"What is it?" I asked, turning in the sand, looking up.

"It is a marsh turtle, a large one," said the fellow, "come up on the bar."

"Why would it do that?" I asked. "There are men here, many of them."

"Now they have it confused, with fire and spears," reported the man, standing beside me. "It does not know which way to turn"."

"Why is it not retreating to the water?" I asked, alarmed.

"It does not know which way to turn," he said. "They have it surrounded now. It is not moving now, it is in its shell now!"

"Together, men!" I heard.

There was a hissing sound, the grunting of men.

"They have it on its back now," said the fellow, pleased. "For once we shall eat well in the delta."

"Why has it come up on the bar, with men here!" I said. I felt suddenly very helpless in the manacles, the ropes.

"I do not understand," he said.

"Beware!" I said, pulling at the manacles. "Beware!"

"Aiii!" cried a fellow, a few yards away.

"It is gigantic!" cried the fellow near me. I heard a hideous hissing, a thrashing in the sand. Men parted between us and the creature. I struggled up a few inches, turning my head. Moving toward us, dripping, was a gigantic, short-legged, long-bodied tharlarion. Its tail snapped to one side, scattering sand.

"Fire!" I screamed. "Torches!"

The opening of its long, narrow jaws may have been as much as five foot Gorean.

"Torches!" cried the fellow with me.

"It wants the meat," I said. "Drive it away! That is why the turtle came to the bar. It was fleeing!"

The tharlarion looked about, its body lifted off the sand, its tail moving.

A fellow rushed toward it, thrusting a lit torch into the jaws. The beast hissed with fury, drawing back. Then another fellow threatened it with a torch, and then another. The beast lowered its body to the sand and then, pushing back in the sand, backed away.

"More fire!" cried a fellow.

Men rushed forward, with torches, and spears. Suddenly the beast slid back into the water, and, with a snap of its tail, turned and disappeared, beyond the ring of torchlight.

"It is gone," said the fellow near me.

"They fear fire," said a man.

"Keep torches lit," said a fellow.

"Feast!" called a fellow. "Feast!"

"Build up the fire!" called another.

"Slay the turtle!" called another.

"It is done!" said a fellow.

There was much good cheer then in the camp.

I lay neglected in the darkness, naked, in the manacles, between two stakes, helpless.

After a time my keeper, chewing, came near to me. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Tomorrow we will close with your fellows," he said. "Tomorrow glorious Ar will have her vengeance."

"I would speak with your officer," I said.

"The rence craft is rotted," he said. "It would not last tomorrow."

I was silent. I wondered if he had ever considered the oddity of the deterioration of the rence, in only days. I supposed not. He was not of the delta. He might think there was nothing unusual about it.

"I have made arrangements for our group to share a three-log raft," he said.

"I am hungry," I said.

"The raft is heavy," he said. "There are two poles only."

"Feed me," I said.

"We will want a draft beast," he said.

"I am hungry," I said.

"We will arrange a harness for you," he said.

"I am hungry," I said.