“Thank you, Mistress,” I said, finishing this repast. “I am terribly sorry I did wrong earlier. I did not wish to annoy you, or displease you. You are very kind.”

“Now,” she said, “let us remove this heavy, ugly shackle from your ankle.”

She opened the shackle and put it, on its chain, the chain running to the ring, to one side. She held the keys to such things.

“Now, she said, “you may come and go as you please, within the quarters of course.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said.

No other girls were now with us in the rest area, not even Tima and Tana, who were her assistants.

“You are very kind,” I said.

“It is nothing,” she said, kissing me lightly on the cheek. She then gathered up the dish and bowl and left.

I lay back down on the mat.

I did not understand this change in Aynur’s behavior. I was sure she had been outraged at finding me in the arms of the tall, longhaired man. I had little doubt that he came sometimes to see Aynur. Earlier, in the garden, she had seemed almost insanely jealous of his attentions to me. Indeed, she had been humiliated before me, and her assistants, by being put to her knees by him, and by having to fetch his sandals, sandals which he then, pointedly, had me tie. I would not have thought that such insults would have been easily passed over by a woman such as Aynur. Too, she would have her needs, doubtless as keen and stressful as those of others. In this house, in the garden, there was much pain. Sometimes, to be sure, we entertained, in the house or garden, some singing and playing, others, such as I, fetching food and drink, attending on the guests, then all of us, later, as we might be selected, or allotted, or assigned, serving, as slaves. But it was not enough for us. Could that not be told simply by looking at our necks, and seeing that there were collars there? Did this detail not serve as token, if none other, that slave fires had been lit in our bellies? Had men not seen to it?

After a time the other girls began to enter the room, one or two at a time. I took little notice of them. Under Aynur’s supervision they surrendered their silks and jewelry. Soon, when the house master made his check, with his lamp, we would all be on our mats, even Aynur. I heard a guard close the gate to the garden. I heard the bolts thrown in the locks. In this house we were not to speak after the nineteenth Ahn. I recalled the tall, long-haired man. I wondered what he had been doing in the garden. He was apparently known in the house, but I had not seen him before. How I had leaped to his touch, how I had obeyed him! How I must have amused him, in his arms, I so unable to conceal myself from him. How well he knew me now, as the slave I was! He had wanted to know the location of the pens in which I had been trained, even the accents of my original captors. He wanted to know if I could read a certain word, which I could not, and if I could recognize a certain sign. The sign, of course, had been the sign, or name, of the city, Ar. I knew that. It is on many seals, and such. And most frighteningly he had wanted to know if I had ever heard of a slave named “Janice,” if I had ever been to Treve. I think I was entitled to be afraid. It was not as though I could run, or hide. I had never ever been allowed out of this house, save in the garden. Doors were bolted, gates were locked. There were walls, and guards. And even more devastatingly I was a slave. There was no escape for me. I did not control my own destiny. It was in the hands of others, the masters. I was afraid. I was miserable.

“Extinguish the lamps, my lovely sisters in bondage,” said Aynur, pleasantly.

One by one the lamps were extinguished.

Aynur seemed in a good mood this evening. I am sure that that anomaly was muchly appreciated by all of us. On of the whole, Aynur was quite strict with us. We must, for example, for the inspection of the house master, kneel with our knees in line, and spread to the appropriate angle. Our backs must be straight. Our chins must be elevated to the proper height, our hands must be placed exactly so on our thighs, and so on. She was quick with her switch. She kept us under excellent discipline.

I lay there on the mat for a little while in the darkness.

The room was very quiet.

I was exhausted, and my back still hurt, despite the soothing lotion.

I decided that there was no reason to be afraid, really.

After all, the man had gone away, and I was safe in the house.

Too, more importantly, I had denied knowing a “Janice.” I had denied ever having been in Treve.

That should finish the matter.

I fell asleep. I am sure it was well before the mat check.

“Shhh,” I heard. “Do not make any noise.”

I awakened on the mat. It must have been well after the mat check.

It was Aynur’s voice.

It was dark in the room. I could hear the breathing of several of the other flowers, asleep nearby on their mats.

“Mistress?” I asked.

I was still on my belly, from the switching I had received the preceding evening.

“Place your wrists, crossed, behind your back,” said Aynur. I complied and, in an instant, with a double loop, they were corded together.

“Do not many any noise,” said Aynur.

“What is it?” I whispered, frightened.

“You are to be taken to see the master,” she whispered. I was startled to hear this. Was this how he had his girls brought to him, in the darkness of the night, secretly? Or, did this have to do with other business, clandestine business perhaps, nocturnal interrogations? Perhaps he was curious to know what had transpired in the garden. Indeed, perhaps the stranger was with him and I must now be brought before them.

“Should I not be silked?” I asked.

“You will go as you are,” she said.

Aynur then reached before me and thrust a wad of cloth into my mouth. This she bound in place with a folded scarf, knotted behind the back of my neck. The original wad of cloth, now held in, as I struggled with it, moving it about in my mouth, expanded to fill my oral cavity. “Be very quiet,” said Aynur. “Do not make any noise.” It was an effective gag. Even had I dared, I could have done little to make myself heard. “Get up,” said Aynur. I rose to my feet. I felt her had on my back. “Move,” she said, “barbarian.” I was pressed toward the door. The door was now unlocked. I receded her, directed by her, down the main corridor, and then into a side passage, past several doors, and then into a small room. It was dark. Aynur closed the door behind us. Surely this was not the compartments of the master!

“Sit,” said Aynur.

I sat down.

“Cross your ankles,” said Aynur.

I did so and Aynur, in the darkness, bound them together.

A moment or so later a fire-maker was struck in the room and a man, masked, lit a tiny lamp on a table. There was another man in the room, as well, also masked.

Near the table, on the floor, there was a slave box.

“This is the slave,” said Aynur. “I deliver her to you, Masters.”

I struggled suddenly with the bonds, but could not free myself.

The men regarded me, bemused.

I tried to speak but was prevented by the gag. I could utter only small sounds, pleading sounds, questioning sounds, sounds of misery and fear.

“You have done well, slave,” said one of the men.

“Thank you, Master,” she said.

Then Aynur turned to me. “Do not fear, barbarian slut,” said she, “but after today, sooner or later, I would have found a way to get you out of the garden! Do not think to lie again, filthy little slave, in the arms of my Camillus!”

I supposed that guards might be sometimes suborned, with the promise of the gift of dangerous, delicious, clandestine favors, and such, to cooperate in such matters. Intrigues in the gardens, in the slave quarters, can be quite fearful.