Myron, now, as I suppose it was Myron, with two fellows behind him, each bearing a package, ascended the platform.

Seremides approached him and, drawing his sword from its sheath, extended it to him, hilt first.

"Myron does not accept his sword!" said a man.

Myron, indeed, with a magnanimous gesture, had demurred to accept the weapons of Seremides, the high general of Ar. Seremides now sheathed the sword.

"Hail Cos! Hail Ar!" whispered a fellow.

The crowd then hushed as Seremides extended his hand to Talena and conducted her before Myron, her head down.

"Poor Talena," whispered a man.

The daughters of conquered ubars often grace the triumphs of victorious generals. This may be done in many ways. Sometimes they are marched naked at their stirrups, in chains; sometimes they are marched similarly but among slaves holding other loot, golden vessels, and such; sometimes they are displayed on wagons, or rolling platforms, caged with she-verr or she-tarsks, and so on. Almost always they will be publicly and ceremoniously enslaved, either before or after the triumph, either in their own city or in the city of the conqueror. Myron, however, bowed low before Talena, in this perhaps saluting the loftiness and honorableness of her status, that of the free female.

"I do not understand," said Marcus.

"Wait," I said.

"Will he not now strip her and have her put in chains?" asked Marcus.

"Watch," I said.

"She will be in his tent, as one of his women, before nightfall," he said. "Watch," I said.

"To be sure," he said, "perhaps she will be kept for the pleasure gardens of Lurius of Jad, or the kennels if his house slaves, if she was not beautiful enough for his pleasure gardens."

"Watch a moment," I said.

Talena, as I knew, was an exquisitely beautiful female, with that olive skin, and dark eyes and hair. I did not doubt but what she was worthy of a ubar's pleasure gardens, and even if, all things considered, she was not quite of that quality, she would still, undoubtedly, find herself there. Allowances are often made for special women, former enemies, and such, and I had little doubt that an allowance of one sort or another would be made for a ubar's daughter, or one taken to be such. It must be remembered, too, that the contents of a pleasure garden are not necessarily always viewed in only one light. For example, such a garden may contain women who are, in a sense, primarily trophies. Surely Talena might count, say, from the standpoint of a Lurius of Jad, as such a trophy. Indeed, some men, collectors, use their gardens mainly for housing their collections, say, of different types of women, selected perhaps primarily with an eye to illustrating, and exhibiting, various forms of female beauty, or, indeed, even for their unique or rare brands.

Myron then turned about to one of the two fellows who had ascended the ramp with him, each of which held a package.

"What is in the package?" asked a man.

"A slave collar, slave bracelets, shackles, such things," said a man.

"No, look!" said a man.

"Ai!" said Marcus.

Myron, from the package held by one of the two fellows who had ascended the ramp with him, drew forth a shimmering veil. He shook this out and displayed it to the crowd.

"It is the veil of a free woman!" said a man.

Myron handed this to Talena, who accepted it.

"I do not understand," said Marcus.

"It will be all she will be given," said a man, angrily.

"A Cosian joke," said another, "then to be removed from her when they wish."

"Cosian sleen," said a man.

"We must fight," said another.

"We cannot fight," said another. "It is hopeless."

Another fellow moaned.

Myron then, however, from the same package, drew forth a set of the ornate robes of concealment, displaying these to the crowd, as he had done with the veil. These, too, he then delivered to Talena.

"Why are they giving her such garments?" asked a man.

"They are Cosian garments," said a man.

"Perhaps it is that Lurius of Jad is to be the first to look upon her fully, in his pleasure chambers," said a man.

"Woe is Talena," whispered a man.

"Woe is us, woe is Ar!" said another.

"We must fight," said the man, again.

"No, it is hopeless!" said the other.

"No, see!" said another. "He again bows before her. Myron, the polemarkos, bows before our Talena!"

Talena then bowed her head, too, as though shyly, gratefully, before the polemarkos.

"She accepts his respects!" said a man.

"It seems she now wishes to withdraw," said a man.

"Poor modest little Talena!" said another.

To be sure, it seemed that Talena now, overcome with modesty, clutching the garments to her gratefully with one hand and with the other seeming to try to pull down the white robes, to more cover her bared feet, wished to leave the platform.

The hand of Seremides however gently stayed her.

"Modest Talena!" exclaimed a man.

"She is not a slave," said another, glaring angrily at Phoebe who, frightened, in her slave tunic, pressed herself more closely against Marcus.

"Myron will speak," said a man.

The polemarkos, or him I took to be he, then advanced to the front of the platform. Gnieus Lelius, chained, was kneeling to his right.

At the front of the platform, after a pause, Myron began to speak. He spoke in a clear, strong, resounding voice. His accent was Cosian, of course, but it was a high-caste Cosian accent, intelligible to all. Too, he spoke deliberately, and slowly. "I bring greetings," said he, "from my ubar, your friend, Lurius of Jad." He then turned to Talena, who stood somewhat behind him, the hand of Seremides on her arm, as though to supply her with perhaps much-needed kindly support in these trying moments. "First," said Myron, "I bring greetings from Lurius of Jad to Talena of Ar, daughter of Marlenus of Ar, Ubar of Ubars!" Talena inclined her head, accepting these greetings.

"Hail Cos!" cried a fellow in the crowd.

Myron now turned to the crowd.

The impressiveness of greeting Talena first, I had no doubt, had its significance. Also, I noted that she was being accepted as the daughter of Marlenus of Ar by Cos, in spite of the fact that Marlenus had disowned her. In accepting her as the daughter of Marlenus, of course, Cos had made it reasonably clear that they would not be likely to challenge any claims she, or others on her behalf, might make with respect to the succession in Ar. Also, though I did not think Lurius of Jad himself would have approved of Marlenus being spoken of as the ubar of ubars, as he perhaps thought that he himself might better deserve that title, the reference seemed a judicious one on the part of Myron. It was a clear appeal to patriotic sentiment in Ar. And, naturally, this sort of reference to Marlenus would scarcely be expected to tarnish the image of Talena, who was thus implicitly being characterized as the daughter of the ubar of ubars.

"And greetings, too," called Myron, "to our friends and brothers, the noble people of Ar!"

The crowd looked at one another.

"Today," said Myron, "you are free!"

"Hail Cos! Hail Ar!" cried a fellow in the crowd.

"The tyrant, our common enemy," cried Myron, gesturing to Gnieus Lelius, "has been defeated!"

"Kill him!" cried men in the crowd.

"To the walls with him!" cried a fellow.

"Fetch an impaling spear!" cried another.

"Peace, friendship, joy and love," called Myron, "to out brothers in Ar!" One of the members of the High Council, presumably its executive officer, who would have had been directly subordinate to Gnieus Lelius, the regent, in a civilian capacity, as Seremides would have been in a military capacity, stepped forth to respond to Myron, but he was warned back by Seremides. "I speak on behalf of Talena of Ar, daughter of Marlenus of Ar, Ubar of Ubars," called Seremides. "She, in her own name, and of the name of the people and Home Stone of Ar, gives thanks to our friends and brothers of Cos, for the delivery of her city from the tyranny of Gnieus Lelius and for the liberation of her people!" At this point, doubtless by a prearranged signal, the great bars of the Central Cylinder began to ring, and, in moments, so, too, did the other bars about the city, near and far. But it seemed, too, then, for a time, one could scarcely hear the bars, so loud, so unrestrained, so wild, so grateful, so elated and tumultuous, were the cheers of the crowd.