The girl whimpered in frustration. "No, Master," she wept. "You are the sort ofman to whom I would belly naturally. To see you is to want to belly myselfbefore you."

"Master," said the girl at the wall, addressing me, "if I were not bound, I,too, would belly myself before you."

"Excellent!" said the merchant. "This is the first time she has spoken so.

Apparently you are the sort of man she regards as a desirable master."

I said nothing. A girl in a market knows she is to be sold. Accordingly she willoften try to influence a man she finds attractive to buy her. If he does not buyher, she knows she may be bought by one who is worse. Most girls, of course,prefer to be bought by a man who is exciting and attractive to them, one whomthey would find irresistible, one whom they would desire to serve, rather thanby one who is gross and disgusting to them. To be sure, as slave girls, theywould have to serve either perfectly. The decision as to whether the girl is tobe purchased or not is, of course, in the final analysis, totally the man's Inthis respect the girl must wait, and is absolutely helpless. In this respect shehas as little personal control over her fate as an inanimate, displayed objectin an emporium on Earth.

The girl at the ring pulled against the bonds on her small wrists, leaningtoward me. The girl at my feet looked up at me. I felt the chain on her neckacross my right foot.

"Have they names?" I asked the merchant.

"No," said the merchant, "I have not yet named them."

"The trader. Grunt" I said, "you speculate has ventured northward?"

"Yes," said the man.

I kicked back the girl at my feet. Whimpering, she crawled back to the wall,where she lay curled at its foot, watching me. The other girl, fastened by thewrists to the ring, shrank back against it. She looked at me with horror andfear, but, also, with another expression in her eyes, as well, one offascination and awe. I think then she realized a little better than before whatit might be to be a slave. She would be subject to discipline. Our eyes met. Isaw in her eyes that she now realized that she, like any other slave girl, was,and would be, under total masculine domination. She shuddered, and looked down.

I saw her tremble with fear and pleasure. I saw that she, properly trained,would make some man a superb slave.

"The next town northward is Fort Haskins," I said. This lay at the foot of theBoswell Pass. Originally it had been a trading post, maintained by the HaskinsCompany, a company of Merchants, primarily at Thentis. A military outpost,flying the banners of Thentis, garrisoned by mercenaries, was later establishedat the same point. The military and strategic importance of controlling theeastern termination of the Boswell Pass was clear. It was at this time that theplace came to be known as Fort Haskins. A fort remains at this point but thename, generally, is now given to the town which grew up in the vicinity of thefort, primarily to the west and south. The fort itself, incidentally, was twiceburned, once by soldiers from Port Olni, before that town joined the SalerianConfederation, and once by marauding Dust Legs, a tribe of red savages, from theinterior of the Barrens. The military significance of the fort has declined withthe growth of population in the area and the development of tarn cavalries inThentis. The fort now serves primarily as a trading post, maintained by thecaste of Merchants, from Thentis, an interesting recollection of the origins ofthe area.

"It will be my conjecture," said the man, "that he whom you seek, the trader,Grunt, is bound not for Fort Haskins, but for Kailiauk."

"Ali," I said. I should have guessed that. Kailiauk is the easternmost town atthe foot of the Thentis mountains. It lies almost at the edge of the Ihanke, orBoundary. From its outskirts one can see the markers, the feathers on their tallwands, which mark the beginning of the country of the red savages.

"I trust that you do not desire to kill him," said the man.

"No," I smiled.

"You do not wear the garb of the dark caste, nor do you have the black daggerpainted upon your brow."

"I am not an Assassin," I said.

"Grunt is a peculiar fellow, and secretive, but, I think, inoffensive."

I do not wish him harm," I said. "And I thank you for your help."

"Are you on foot?" asked the man.

"Yes," I said. I had sold my tarn two days ago and begun to make my waynorthward on foot. The Kurii from whom we had obtained the story hide must, inturn, have obtained it from an operative somewhere in this area. I thought toattract less attention on foot than as a tarnsman.

"If you wish to contact Grunt, I advise you to do so promptly. It is EnKara, andhe will soon be entering the Barrens.

I attempted to press a tarsk bit into his hand, but he pushed it back.

"I have done nothing," he smiled.

"My thanks," I said. I turned to go.

"Fellow," said he.

"Yes?" I said, turning again to face him.

"A slave wagon is leaving on the north road at noon," be said. "it could takeyou as far as Fort Haskins."

"My thanks," I said.

"It is nothing," he said.

I glanced again at the two blond slave girls. I glanced first at the onekneeling by the wall, her wrists bound to the ring behind her. In her bonds, shehad learned she was a woman. It is difficult for a woman, stripped and bound,and owned by a man, not to be aware of her femininity. These symbols of, andexpressions of, nature, are not hard to read. She understands them, and fullyand well. I glanced then to the other girl, she lying by the wall, looking atme, the chain on her neck. Her psychophysiological distress, that of a slavegirl, was clearly almost intolerable. Perhaps her master would give her to oneof his attendants for the night. The desperation of her needs might then, for atime, be assuaged, until, in a few Ahn, irresistibly and compellingly, theywould again arise within her. I glanced then again to the first girl. I smiled.

She, too, once properly branded and collared, would come to know such needs.

She, too, internally and subjectively, would come to know what it was, fully, tobe a female slave.

"I wish you well," I said to the man.

"I wish you well," he said.

I then turned, and left.

I thrust my shoulder against the giant wooden wheel of the slave wagon.

I heard, ahead, the crying out of the driver, the snapping of his long whip overthe backs of the two draft tharlarion harnessed to the wagon.

"Pull, lazy beasts!" he cried.

Knee deep in the mire I thrust, slipping, against the thick wooden wheel.

The wheel moved and the wagon, groaning, creaking, lurched upward and rolledforward.

I waded about the wagon and then attained the graveled surface and, running,caught up with the wagon, and drew myself up to the wagon box, beside thedriver.

"Why do you wish to find Grunt?" asked the driver, a young man with shaggy hair,cut short across the base of his neck.

"I am searching for something which may be in the Barrens," I said.

"Stay out of them," warned the young man. "It can be death to enter them."

"Grunt comes and goes, as I understand it," I said.

"Some, merchants and traders, are permitted, by some of the tribes," said theyoung man.

"Of all," I said, "I have heard that he is most welcome in the Barrens, andtravels furthest within them."

"That may be true," said the fellow.

"Why is that, I. wonder," I said.

"He speaks some Dust Leg, and some of the talk of other tribes," said thefellow. "Too, he knows sign."

"Sign?" I asked.

"Hand talk" said the young man. "It is the way the red savages of differenttribes communicate among one another. They cannot speak one another's languages,you know."