The Usurper (11 page)

The barbarian looked to the slave, fiercely.

“It cannot be an attack, Master,” she said.

“Someone,” he said, “may have been recognized?”

“I know of no one,” she said.

The barbarian whipped away the dinner robe and kicked the sandals to the side. In moments he had gathered together, and drawn on, the hides and furs, the soft boots, which he had worn when first approaching the camp. He then strode to the tunnel exit from the chamber, that leading to the main tenting, that of the headquarters tenting.

“Otto!” cried Julian, elatedly, meeting him at the threshold of the bedding chamber. “You live!”

“I live,” said Otto.

Behind Julian were Tuvo Ausonius and a small, exquisite slave, bundled in furs, whom Otto did not recognize.

“Captain Ottonius!” said Tuvo Ausonius. Behind him, the slave knelt.

“Be greeted,” said Otto, grinning.

“Be shamed, friend,” said Julian. “You were to wait in Venitzia, to proceed in safety, accompanied by trade goods, and imperial troops, to contact Otungs in the forest.”

“I did not do so,” said Otto. “I deemed it best to approach Otungs alone, not accompanied by imperial troops.”

“I was delayed, surely deliberately, in Lisle,” said Julian. “When I arrived in Venitzia I discovered, to my dismay, not only that you had departed alone, but that the supporting expedition, then intent on locating and supporting you, had also departed.”

“You followed, through the wilderness, alone?” said Otto.

“We three, no others,” said Julian.

“You might have encountered Heruls,” he said, “or Otungs.”

“We were pursued from Venitzia,” said Julian, “by enemies, sent from Venitzia.”

“You survived,” observed Otto.

“They did not,” said Julian.

“We heard wolves,” said Otto.

“We fought,” said Julian, “but owe our lives, I fear, to Otung dogs.”

“You are fortunate,” said Otto. “Such dogs are trained to clear the vicinity of wolves.”

“We count ourselves fortunate,” said Julian.

“More than you know,” said Otto. “Such dogs are close to wolves. Occasionally they set upon men.”

“You are all right, dear captain?” inquired Tuvo Ausonius.

“Certainly,” said Otto. “How is it that you ask?”

“We observed women, putative slaves, trade goods, being boarded on the
Narcona
,” said Julian. “I was troubled. None were marked. It seemed to me that one knew not yet her collar. More troublesome was the sense I had that I had seen this woman before, somewhere, and not on a leash or chain. Curious, we investigated, and found discrepancies involved, falsity of claims and such. Alarmed, I had, from memory, a portrait prepared. Inquiries were conducted in Lisle, at markets, in slave houses, and such. No one recognized the woman. Then similar inquiries were conducted in more prestigious venues, from which I might have recalled the woman. These inquiries bore immediate fruit. Several citizens, particularly high citizens, citizens of the
honestori
, of the patricians, suggested it might be a likeness of a fallen, nigh-destitute patrician, even of the senatorial class, a Lady Publennia Calasalia, formerly of the Larial Calasalii. We had little doubt that such a person, disreputable and unscrupulous, eager to recoup wealth and power, might prove of interest to men with much to hide and much to protect. Would conspirators not find such a person a likely recruit to further their ends and schemes? And if assassination were in the offing what would better assure its likelihood of success than ensconcing an assassin amongst slaves, a slave who, unsuspected, sooner or later, would be almost certain to be alone with the intended object of her work, and might have hours afterward in which to be sped to safety, and presumed riches.”

“An excellent plan,” said Otto. “May I see this portrait?”

Julian reached within his furs, and, from the inside pocket of his naval jacket, handed the putative likeness of the Lady Publennia to Otto.

“Interesting,” said Otto.

“We feared she might be here, in the camp,” said Julian.

“Have you seen her, captain?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.

“One similar,” said Otto.

“Beware!” said Julian.

“Look,” said Tuvo Ausonius, pointing to Nika, kneeling behind the men, to their left.

“Brush your hood back,” said Otto.

The slave complied. A shake of her head spread the wealth of her bright hair about her face and shoulders.

“Pretty,” said Otto. “Where did you buy her?”

“We acquired her by the right of imperial seizure, exigency of the empire,” said Julian. This right, apparently, authorizes a suitable imperial authority, by fiat, to acquire any given slave for the empire, and, interestingly, well beyond this, to reduce free women to bondage. We may speculate that this was the fate of Elena, a brown-haired, gray-eyed former lady-in-waiting to the empress mother, Atalana. She apparently, in some way, a careless action, an unwise expression, or such, had displeased the empress mother. Iaachus may have suggested the discipline. In any event, Elena, it seems, soon learned what it is to be a female collar-wearer, having received this instruction at the foot of the couch of Iaachus.

“She was the serving slave of the Lady Publennia Calasalia in Lisle,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “Interrogated, it was determined, as we had feared, that the Lady Publennia was no longer in Lisle. We brought her with us, then, in case an explicit identification of the mysterious Lady Publennia should prove necessary, or appropriate. I, for example, had never seen the woman in question.”

“I understand,” said Otto.

“If we should suspect deception or subterfuge,” said Julian, “she will be killed on the spot.”

“Come into the bedding chamber,” said Otto, turning about. “There is a slave here you may be interested in meeting.”

“Mistress!” cried Nika.

She then resumed her kneeling position, appropriate for a slave in the presence of free men.

“I gather,” said Otto, “the identification is made.”

“Indisputably,” said Julian, with satisfaction.

“Hold position, you collared slut,” warned Otto.

“One seldom finds women of the
honestori
, of the patrician class, even of the senatorial class,” said Julian, “so positioned, naked, and neck-ringed.”

“It is not unusual, in the halls of those whom you would speak of as barbarians,” said Otto.

“I feared we might not arrive in time,” said Julian.

“She was suspected, even on the
Narcona
,” said Otto.

“Who enlisted her?” asked Julian.

“Iaachus,” said Otto.

“Of course,” said Julian.

“I fear,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “there will be no way to prove that.”

“I fear you are right,” said Julian.

“It is dangerous to levy charges against powerful men,” said Otto.

“It could be death,” said Julian.

Otto regarded Filene, or Cornhair, the former free woman, Publennia Calasalia.

“She is pretty in her nasty way, is she not?” asked Otto.

“Indeed,” said Julian.

“Shall I have her split her knees before you?”

“No,” said Julian.

“Why not?” said Otto. “She is less now than a tavern slave, or brothel slave.”

“She is unworthy to spread her knees before a free man,” said Julian. He then unslung his rifle. “I have one charge left,” he said. “Draw her out into the yard, into the snow, and I will do justice.”

“Do not waste a charge on her,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“True,” said Julian. “Such things on Tangara are valuable. We will take her into the yard and throw her across the wire.”

“Hold position,” Otto warned Filene.

She remained in position, that position in which Otto had placed her, one common for female slaves.

Otto turned to the exquisite, kneeling, red-haired slave.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“I have been named ‘Nika', Master,” she said.

“Rise, and stand here, beside me,” said Otto.

“I am uneasy to stand,” she said. “Free men are present.”

“Here,” said Otto, indicating the spot.

“You are sure this is your former Mistress?” he asked.

“‘Former'?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Otto. “She is now a slave.”

“Yes, Master,” said Nika. “She is my former Mistress.”

“Doubtless she was a kind, patient, thoughtful Mistress?”

Nika trembled. She did not speak.

“Not at all,” said Tuvo Ausonius. “Inquiries were made. The Lady Publennia Calasalia was an unusually demanding and exacting Mistress. She was noted for her short temper and lack of patience. Frequently did she subject this slave to needless castigations and gratuitous torments. The slave was frequently demeaned, mocked, berated, and ridiculed, even publicly. No matter how desperately the slave sought to please, the Mistress was never satisfied. Fault would somehow be found. Any pretext, or no pretext, would serve to elicit reprimands. The slave was frequently and well acquainted with the admonitions of her Mistress' switch, openly, publicly, even in the marketplaces, in the squares, and streets. Her life was made a veritable misery.”

“But now,” said Otto to the exquisite, red-haired slave, “you have priority. You are as first girl. That is why you are standing.”

“Master?” asked Nika, frightened.

Otto then turned to Filene. “It seems,” he said, “you abused your freedom.”

“No, Master!” protested Filene, frightened.

“Perhaps you did not realize that the collar would one day be on your own neck.”

Filene regarded him, wildly.

“On your belly!” snapped Otto. “Crawl to this slave who is as Mistress to you, and cover her boots with kisses. Now! Again and again, more, more, as the worthless slave you are! Now, tongue work. More! Lick, and whimper! Kiss those boots, head down, again and again! Cover them with your tears of fear and contrition!”

“Forgive me, pretty, lovely Nika,” wept Filene.

“Oh!” cried Filene, kicked by the barbarian.

“Do you dare soil the name of one who is to you as first girl, letting it escape the portal of your slave lips?” he inquired.

“Forgive me, Mistress!” begged Filene. “I was intemperate and cruel! I muchly wronged you! Be kind! Forgive me! I am afraid! Do not hurt me, Mistress!”

“Shall I call for a switch?” asked Otto.

“No, Master,” said Nika.

“The whip is at hand,” he said. “You could use it, with two hands on the staff.”

“No, please, Master,” said Nika.

“Forgive me, Mistress!” begged Filene.

“I forgive you,” said Nika, “poor, neck-ringed slave.”

Weeping, Filene pressed the side of her face on the fur of Nika's boots.

“You must be hungry,” said Otto to Julian and Tuvo Ausonius. “Return down the corridor. Make your wants known. If it is in the camp, it will be prepared for you. Take your lovely red-haired slave with you. She will kneel beside you, and see if you choose to feed her.”

“First,” said Julian, bending down and seizing Filene by the hair, and yanking her up, she crying out with misery, to her knees, “we will take this slave into the yard and throw her upon the wire. I know such things, the wires will slice through her, burning, leaving little but shreds of tissue on the snow. Such wire would resist the charge of a
torodont
.”

“Seek the kitchen,” said Otto. “Feed.”

“The slave!” said Julian, angrily.

“She is my prisoner,” said Otto. “I have a suitable disposition in mind for her.”

“As you will, my friend,” said Julian. Tuvo Ausonius, heeled by Nika, had withdrawn. Julian paused in the threshold. “The
comitatus
?” he asked.

“It will be formed,” said Otto.

“The matter is arranged?”

“Yes.”

“You can speak for the Otungs,” said Julian.

“The voice of the king is the voice of the Otungen,” said Otto.

“You have bargained with the king?” said Julian.

“I am the king,” said Otto.

“How is this possible?” asked Julian.

“It has come about,” said Otto, “in the ways of the Otungen.”

“In dark ways, I suspect,” said Julian.

“Civilized folk need not inquire too closely into such things,” said Otto.

“The Otungs is the largest and most formidable tribe of the Vandal nation, the Vandalii,” said Julian.

“I have heard so,” said Otto.

“Will not the tribes of the Vandalii follow the lead of the Otungs?” asked Julian.

“I do not know,” said Otto.

“Have you heard,” asked Julian, “of the medallion and chain of the Vandal council?”

“No,” said Otto.

“I had thought you would await me in Venitzia,” said Julian.

“I did not think it advisable,” said Otto.

“After my arrival on Tangara,” said Julian, “I did not proceed immediately to Venitzia. I went, instead, to the
festung
of Sim Giadini, situated in the heights of Barrionuevo.”

“I was raised in the
festung
village, at the foot of the pass,” said Otto.

“I know,” said Julian.

“And what did you seek there?” asked Otto.

“The origins of a friend,” said Julian.

“Then you heard of a human child, a newly born infant, rescued from the plains of Barrionuevo, after a battle, delivered by a Herul rider to the
festung
, many years ago,” said Otto.

“Yes,” said Julian, “an infant, suckled by a dog, an infant who would be called ‘Dog', who would grow to manhood in that place.”

“It was I,” said Otto.

“I met there,” said Julian, “Brother Benjamin, a salamanderine.”