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.The name did still exist, of course, though it was not wise to speak it in thepresence ofAbrogastes, nor, generally, in the dwelling places of the Drisriaks.TheOrtungs had been, of course, defeated, and scattered, as grass to the wind, asit was said.To be sure, there were, here and there, remnants who, in hiding,and unreconciled, continued defiantly to regard themselves as Ortungs, intheir own right, by the acceptance of rings, and not traitorous Drisriaks.After the slaughter in the tent on Tenguthaxichai, recounted elsewhere,Page 67 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlAbrogastes, on the advice of his counselors, had permitted pockets ofsurrendering, repentant Ortungs to return to the dwelling places of theDrisriaks.The olive branch, as well as the sword, can be an instrument ofpolicy."Is not treason the worst of crimes?" called Abrogastes."Yes," cried several men, about the tables."No!" shouted Abrogastes."The instigation to treason is the worst of crimes!"He pointed to Huta."Yes, yes!" cried men.The tables roared.The former ladies of the empire, kneeling about the hall, at the sides, beforethe tables, trembled."Mercy, Master!" cried Huta, throwing herself to the rush-strewn floor of thehall."What shall be done with her?" called Abrogastes."Kill her! Kill her!" cried men.Men, too, rose from behind the tables.Otherspounded upon them."Kill her!""Let it be a lesson to all who would betray the peoples!" cried a man."Yes!" cried others.Huta, lying prone in the dirt, looked up, and lifted her hand to Abrogastes."Mercy, Master!" she begged.Doubtless she then understood why food had not been given to her that day,that it might not be wasted upon her.The giant spear, held by two men, was large, upright, behind the slave."Kneel up!" cried Abrogastes.Terrified, Huta obeyed, though she could scarcely, even kneeling, keep herbalance, so shaken, so helpless, she was."Let me cut her throat!" cried a man, coming about a table."No, let me!" cried another.One man then even leapt to the slave and had her head back, cruelly, held bythe hair, his knife at her throat.He looked eagerly to Abrogastes.Abrogastes waved him back, and the others, as well."You were a priestess, were you not?" inquired Abrogastes."Yes, Master," said Huta."You were a consecrated, sacred virgin, were you not?" inquired Abrogastes.Page 68 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Yes, Master," wept Huta."You do not appear to be clothed," said Abrogastes."No, Master," she wept."She has her brand!" laughed a man."Yes!" said another.There was laughter."Behind you, behold the spear of the Alemanni!" said Abrogastes."Yes, Master," she said, falling to all fours, and turning."Go to it!" he said.Quickly she did so, and, unbidden, began to kiss, and lick it, desperately.There was laughter."She is not unintelligent," said a man."No," said another.The spear, interestingly, may not be touched by free women, of the Alemanni,or others.It may, however, receive the ministrations of female slaves, this being takenas a service or an obeisance, much as the washing of a warrior's feet by thetongues of the women of the enemy, the acts serving as a symbol of thenothingness of the slaves, as an irrevocable token of total submission, and asa recognition of, and an acknowledgment of, the power and glory of theAlemanni,"Turn about!" commanded Abrogastes.Huta, trembling and fearful, unsteady, on all fours, turned about, to faceAbrogastes."It will now be decided whether you live or die," said Abrogastes."Master?" begged Huta."Bring the scales," said Abrogastes.Men cried out with pleasure.Scales were brought, wide, shallow, pan scales, which, when the pointed staffwas driven into the earth, to one side of the floor, and steadied there by thehand of a man, stood half as high as a man, and with them a small table, onwhich were a large number of lead pellets, tiny measured weights."Stand!" commanded Abrogastes.Huta, trembling, unsteadily, stood."Bring musicians," said Abrogastes.Page 69 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlThree men, from the sand latitudes of Beyira II, were summoned, from wherethey had been waiting, in a small room off the main hall, a pantry shed.Twocarried pipes, and one a small drum.The sand latitudes of Beyira II are, ofcourse, not entirely sand, but they are, on the whole, windswept, desolateregions.They are crossed by lonely caravans.Here and there, among the dunes, there are small oases, where dates may befound, and grass, for small flocks.Some of these are well known and determinecaravan routes.Some are known only to local groups, of nomads, of herdsmen, who move amongthem, seeking grass at one, while allowing it to replenish itself at another
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