"The lash!" cried the warrior captain. "Twenty to each of them, then let us be gone. Or—Wait!" His eyes narrowed as the implication of Kang's words struck him. "Did not know? You did not recognize our signal as we approached? Where are you from? You are not of Khundru."
"Nay, master," whined Kang. "We are poor exiles of a far northern city, Tabori by name, but recently come out of the Twilight Zone to seek service in the noble capital of our race—"
"Recently come?" The chieftain's eyes narrowed still farther. Then: "Where is your master, serf?"
"Our master is dead, sire." Kang explained as he had explained to the captain of the barrier guard. But it was evident that in Khundru the higher a man's post the greater became his authority and greed. For scarce had he revealed that their erstwhile master was no more than the cavalry leader interrupted him.
"No master, eh? That situation shall soon be remedied. By the rank and authority which is mine as a kraedar of Khundru I hereby claim you as mine own. Not—" He laughed—"that I shall put you to use. A Captain of the Royal Guard has no need of house servants. But your two sons should make sturdy slaves for the tilling of someone's land. And your two daughters—"
He paused and stroked his jaw reflectively. It was clear that the Captain of the Royal Guards was reconsidering his need of servants. To forestall his thinking, Kang spoke hurriedly, invoking a law which he had learned existed amongst the Magogeans.
"A thousand pardons, sire—but we are not slaves. We are freedmen. When our master died he gave us household goods and chattels wherewith to establish our own little home—"
"So?" The kraedar laughed mockingly. "Yet if you had not these things, old man, you would be slaves again, is it not so? Well, then—"
He turned and barked a command to his soldiers. Instantly bright weapons leaped from their belts to their hands. And it was with the barest warning the quintet of Solarites managed to scramble from the proximity of the cart as the blazing rays of a dozen ultrawave handguns spat flame upon the cart. In a moment of searing fire the vehicle was gone, blasted to oblivion by those frightful rays.
"So," continued the captain, "having no chattels of your own, you are again slaves. Tramir Chingru—herd me these cattle to the mart, and there get for me the best price you can. And mind," he added dangerously, "you bring me back all the profits. Make no mistake as to the amount."