"Still," said the young man, "they are not good for the market."

"That may be true," I said. It seemed to me not unlikely that an influx ofbarbarian females, in a given area, at a given time, might depress prices. To besure, the slavers in league with the Kurii usually distributed these girlsthrough out various markets. This made the females more difficult to trace backto their delivery points and, of course, tended, on the whole, to improve theprices one could receive for them.

"It will soon be time to camp," said the young man.

"The slaves, I trust," I said, jerking my head back toward the lovely, boundinmates of the wagon, "are on their slave wine."

"Yes," laughed the young man.

"Please, Master," begged the girl who had spoken earlier to the young man,"when we camp, tie my neck to a tree and untie my ankles. "I desire to serveyou."

"No, I!" cried another girl. "I!" cried another.

The young man laughed. He saw the girls desired to placate him. But, too, ofcourse, to be honest, he was a handsome fellow, and they were bound femaleslaves. Carting such freight about does not pay high wages but there are fringebenefits connected with such work. If the girls are not virgins such a teamstercommonly has his pick of the load.

"My neck, too, can be tied to a tree, and my ankles, too can be untied, Master," said another of the girls, addressing me. She was a luscious blonde.

I slapped the wood of the wagon box with pleasure.

"Look!" said the young man, suddenly, pointing to our right. "Smoke!"

Almost at the same moment he rose to his feet and cracked his long whip over thebacks of the tharlarion. Grunting, they increased their lumbering pace.

Twice more he cracked his whip. The girls, in the back were suddenly quiet. Igripped the edge of the wagon box. To our right, in a long, sloping valley, sometwo or three pasangs from the road, there were three narrow, slowly ascendingcolumns of smoke.

"Faster! Har-ta!" cried the young man to the tharlarion.

"Surely we must stop," I said. "Perhaps we can render assistance."

"It is too late," he said, "by the time you can see the smoke. Everyone here, bynow, would be dead, or taken."

One of the girls in the back cried out in fear. Naked, bound slaves, they wereabsolutely helpless.

"Nonetheless," I said, "I must make inquiries."

"You will do so then by yourself," said the young man.

"Agreed," I said. "Stop the wagon."

"Riders!" said the young man. Ahead, on the road, there was a rolling cloud ofdust. He jerked the tharlarion back. Grunting they scratched at the gravel ofthe road. They tossed their snouts in the nose straps. The young man lookedwildly about. He could not turn the wagon on the narrow road. The girlsscreamed, squirming in their bonds.

"They are soldiers," I said. I stood on the wagon box, shading my eyes.

"Thank the Priest-Kings!" cried the young man.

In moments a troop of soldiers, lancers and crossbowmen, mounted on kaiila,reined up about us. They wore the colors of Thentis. They were covered withdust. Their uniforms were black with sweat and dirt. The flanks of theirprancing kaiila were lathered with foam. They snorted and, throwing back theirheads, sucked air into their lungs. Their third lids, the transparent stormmembranes, were drawn, giving their wild, round eyes a yellowish cast.

"Dust Legs," said the officer with the men. "The road is closed. Whither are youbound?"

"Fort Haskins," said, the young man.

"You cannot remain here, and it would be dangerous to go back," said theofficer. "I think you are best advised to proceed to Fort Haskins as quickly aspossible."

"I shall do so," said the young man.

"It is unusual, is it not, for the Dust Legs to be on the rampage?" I asked. Ihad understood them to be one of the most peaceful of the tribes of the Barrens.

Indeed, they often acted as intermediaries between the men of the settlementsand the wilder tribes of the interior, such as the Yellow Knives, the Sleen andKaiila.

"Who are you?" asked the officer.

"A traveler," I said.

"We do not know what has stirred them up," said the officer. "They have taken nolife. They have only burned farms and taken kaiila."

"It is perhaps a warning, of some sort," I said.

"It would seem so," said the officer. "They did not, for example, attack atdawn. They came openly, did their work unhurriedly, and withdrew."

"It is very mysterious," I said.

"They are a peaceful folk," said the officer, "but I would be on my way, andwith dispatch. Sleen or Kaiila may be behind them."

One of the girls in the back whimpered in terror.

The officer, slowly, rode around the wagon, looking through the wooden bars atour bound cargo. The girls shrank back under his gaze, bound, inspected slaves.

"I would be on my way as soon as possible," said the officer. "I would notexpect even Dust Legs to resist this cargo."

"Yes, Captain!" said the young man. The officer took his mount to the side andthe soldiers, too, drew their kaiila to one side or the other. The young manthen stood up, shaking the reins with one hand and cracking the whip with theother. "Move, move, you beasts!" he cried. The tharlarion lumbered into motionand the slack was taken up in the traces, and the wagon, creaking, lurchedahead. The girls were as quiet as tiny, silken field urts in the presence offorest panthers, being conducted in their cage between the ranks of thesoldiers. In a few Ehn we were more than a pasang down the road. It was lonely,and dark. There was whimpering, and sobbing, behind us.

"The slaves are terrified," I said.

"We shall not camp," said the young man. "We shall press on through the night. Ishall, stop only, from time to time, to rest the tharlarion."

"That is wise," I said.

"It is not like the Dust Legs," he said.

"That, too, would be my understanding of the matter," I said.

I stepped aside, to the side of the road. It had rained early this morning. Theroad was still muddy. The men, some afoot, some on kaiila, with the clank ofweapons and the rattle of accouterments, filed past me. I looked into the eyesof some of them. They were mercenaries. Yet they belonged to no mercenarycompany I recognized. Doubtless they had been hired here and there.

They wore various uniforms, and parts of uniforms, and carried an assortment ofweapons. Some of them, I suspected, might even be men without a Home Stone. Theywere moving northward, as I was. They, I speculated, were bound for kailiauk. Itook it there were about a thousand of them. This was unusually large for amercenary force. It would require a considerable amount of money to hire andsustain such a force.

In the center of the road, approaching, between, and with, the lines, drawn bytwo tharlarion, was an ornately carved, two-wheeled cart. An officer, a beardedfellow with plumed cap, perhaps the captain of the mercenary company, besidethis cart. On a curule chair, fixed on the high cart, under a silken canopy,proud and graceful, bedecked with finery, garbed in the ornate Robes ofConcealment, sat a woman. Chained by the neck to the side of the cart, clad inrags, was a red youth.

"Hold!" said the woman, lifting her small, white-gloved hand as the cart drewnear to me.

"Hold!" called the officer, turning his kaiila and lifting his hand.

"Hold! Hold!" called other officers. The lines stopped. The woman lowered herhand.

She regarded me. "Tal," she said.

"Tal, Lady," said I to her.

With one hand, nonchalantly, she freed her outer veil. Her features, then, wereconcealed but poorly by the second veil, little more thin a wisp of diaphanoussilk. She did this, apparently, that she might speak to me more easily. Shesmiled. I, too, smiled, but inwardly. A master might have given such a veil to aslave as a joke. She was a vain woman. She wished me to see that she wasstunningly beautiful. I saw that she might make an acceptable slave.