Rebels of Vulvar (Vulvarian Saga Book 2), стр. 6

Just as I was about to leave the road to seek a sheltered place to pass the night, in the distance, I saw a gardo or wagon approaching from the south. The gardo is a veovark-drawn conveyance used by farm people, primarily to haul grain. Veovarks are oxen-like animals used on Vulvar to tow all means of wheeled conveyances.

The design of the gardo includes four large wheels set outside the wagon box and sides that slope outward considerably as they rise toward the bow top. The covering of the bow top, when present, is tightly stretched canvas. The farm people may use the wagon as an open-top, or with the canvas bow top in place when hauling grain during inclement weather.

As the gardo drew closer, I stepped from the road to allow it to pass. Vulvarian law requires pedestrians to yield the right-of-way to vehicles upon all paved roads. A short distance before the gardo reached me, the driver hauled on the reins and brought the vehicle to a halt. The driver, a tall Vulvarian female with a lean frame, greasy brown hair, and a long face, looked down at me through hooded brown eyes.

“Hail, mistress,” I said with a respectful bow.

The woman was not, of course, my mistress, but I had addressed her in the manner that Vulvarian custom required a slave to greet a free female under the circumstances.

The driver did not reply immediately to my greeting. Instead, she stared at me with suspicion.

“I mean you no harm, mistress,” I said. “I am not an outlaw.”

The woman’s expression made it clear she did not believe me.

At last, she spoke. “Tell me, slave, where is your master?” she said. “Why are you here on the public road alone and unattended?”

Too late, it occurred to me that traveling on the road rather than keeping to the fields had not been a wise decision. I realized I needed to invent a plausible story and fast. A free female finding a slave walking alone about the countryside would assume him a runaway. The government offered a bounty to any female who captured and returned a runaway slave to his city.

“While traveling with my mistress to Thiva on this road, outlaws set upon our party,” I said. “The outlaws seized my mistress, her companion, and their goods. I ran away in fear.”

“Outlaws, you say?”

“Yes, mistress, a band of armed males.”

“Where did this occur, slave?”

“Some distance north of here, mistress, late last evening where we had made camp for the night.”

“I see,” the woman said dubiously. “What is your mistress’ city, slave?”

“Nisa,” I said. “That is where I’m bound. My mistress and her companion were traveling to Thiva to escape the disorder that has overtaken Nisa.”

“Yet, you are returning there?”

“I knew not where else to go, mistress,” I said. “I am hungry and thirsty. I have had no food or water for many hours.”

“Perhaps you are lying, slave,” the woman said in an accusing tone. “Maybe you are a runaway, fleeing to Nisa to join with the other mutinous slaves there.”

“No, mistress, I am not,” I said. “My mistress has well treated me for the past many years. I have no desire to abandon her service.”

“Yet, you admit you abandoned her in time of danger if your fantastic tale is to be believed.”

I held up my empty hands in surrender. “What could I have done, mistress?” I said. “The outlaws were many, and as you see, I am unarmed.”

The woman seemed unimpressed by my fabricated story. She wound the reins around the brake lever. After bending down to retrieve something from beneath the wagon seat, she climbed down and approached me.

“I believe you are a liar,” the woman spat. “I believe you are a runaway. Submit.”

The female’s right hand was on the hilt of a large knife in a sheath that hung from her wide belt. In her left hand was the article she had retrieved from beneath the seat, a length of cord. Her command “submit” meant she expected me to kneel and to raise my crossed wrists above my head that she might easily bind them.

My mind raced along with my heart. I did not wish this meddlesome female to delay me. Should I obey and submit? Or should I run? Would she abandon the gardo and her belongings on the road to pursue me?

“I commanded you to submit,” the woman said with menace as she drew and brandished the knife. “If you refuse, the law permits me to slay you.”

The woman appeared healthy and fit with long legs. My body was still adjusting to the higher gravity of Vulvar. I might not escape her. She was armed and had spoken the truth. Vulvarian law permits a free woman to kill a slave who resists her command to submit. I had little doubt this woman would do so if I attempted to flee, and she overtook me.

“I submit, mistress,” I said, dropping to my knees and raising my crossed wrists above my head as the custom required.

The woman sheathed the knife, then, in an expert manner, bound my wrists with swiftness.

Grabbing my arm, she hauled me to my feet. “Come, slave,” she said.

Escorting me to the rear of the gardo, she reached over the tailgate and withdrew a coil of rope. One end of the rope she secured to my bound wrists. The other she tied to the back of the gardo. Next, standing before me, she reached out a hand and grasped the hem of my tunic. She lifted it to expose the tube between my legs. The woman smiled.

“A breeder,” she chuckled. “You will fetch a handsome bounty.”

I did not reply. I felt sick over the female capturing me and delaying my arrival in Nisa.

The woman walked to the side of the gardo. She removed the lid from a wooden barrel lashed to the side of the conveyance. Taking down a dried gourd that hung from a strap, she dipped it into the barrel. She