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sled, we must press on. I fear there is little time. We may already be too late.”
    â€œWill you not again examine the night sky?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.
    â€œNo,” said Julian, “I think we need only follow the tracks before us. I suspect they will lead us more readily to our destination than the night sky.”

Chapter Three
    â€œYou remember Filene?” asked Lysis, the supply officer of the Narcona , of the blond giant, Otto, at the table.
    â€œYes,” said Otto, “from the Narcona .”
    â€œStand straighter,” said severe Ronisius, a minor officer of the vessel’s commissioned officers.
    â€œForgive me, Master,” said Filene, straightening her body. She carried a small, shallow tray of cakes.
    She had been entered into the room later than the other three, for some reason. The meal was now nearly done.
    â€œYou were once a free woman, were you not, my dear?” inquired polite, blond Corelius, a handsome young officer, also, as Ronisius, one of the vessel’s lesser commissioned officers.
    â€œYes,” she whispered.
    â€œâ€˜Yes, Master’,” corrected Ronisius.
    â€œYes, Master, forgive me, Master,” said the blonde, Filene.
    She feared Ronisius.
    She felt helpless, and slave before him.
    What would it be if she were truly a slave?
    â€œYou are no longer a free woman, Filene,” said Corelius, kindly. “So you may no longer be slovenly and clumsy. You may no longer be stiff and wooden. It is not permitted. You must be soft, feminine, inviting, attractive, ready, lovely, graceful. You are now no longer yours. You are now another’s. You are owned.”
    â€œYes, Master,” she said.
    â€œNote how Filene is painted,” said Phidias, captain of the Narcona .
    â€œI see,” said Otto, “and scented, as well.”
    â€œWe have arranged that she is prepared for you,” said Phidias.
    â€œMy thanks, Captain,” said Otto.
    â€œPresumably it will be pleasant to pluck and crush that flower,” said Ronisius.
    Filene shuddered.
    â€œShe is new to the collar,” said Lysis. “We hope that you will much improve her. Let her learn her bondage in your arms.”
    â€œThere are others, of course,” said Ronisius. “These three,” he said, gesturing to the other slaves, “Lira, Faye, Rabbit, and there are sixteen others in the tents, whom you may inspect and have your pick, if you wish, any one, or two, or three.”
    Otto smiled at Ronisius. “I am sure this one will do,” he said, nodding toward Filene.
    â€œAs you wish,” said Ronisius, smiling.
    Otto had arrived in the camp near dusk, from a hall of Otungs deep in the forest. He had had retainers with him who were now encamped nearby, in amongst the shadows of trees, not far from the wired perimeter of the rude imperial enclave. It had been deemed unwise to mix soldiers of the empire with Otungs, for fear of hasty words, even angry glances, which might lead to drawn blades and the flash of discharged weapons.
    Otto was now in a long, silken dinner robe.
    Slaves had sought to bathe him, hoping to touch such a man.
    Yesterday night, however, it might well have been different. Yesterday night they might well have fled from a terrible figure which, gaunt and hungry, might have emerged from the darkness.
    Yesterday night Otto had arrived at the great hall of the Otungs, that of the King Naming, half naked, stinking and bloody, the skins of dogs, Herul dogs, tied about his body. He had survived the “running of the dogs.” He had had with him, however, the skin of a giant, white vi-cat, and a weighty long sword which few but such as he could wield. The skin of the vi-cat was that of a beast he had earlier killed, and the sword was that which he had carried toward the forest before his capture by Heruls. These were returned to him by the Herul, Hunlaki, who, by Herul means, utilizing a sensory organ foreign to