up a little aid.

"What would you do if I gave you a club?" he asked a burly slave whom
he was helping to haul a log towards his workshop. Narsisi and one of
his brothers lazed along out of earshot, bored by the routine of the
guard duty.

"What I do with club?" the slave grunted, forehead furrowing and mouth
gaping open with the effort of thought.

"That's what I asked. And keep pulling while you think, I don't want
the guards to notice anything."

"If I have club, I kill!" the slave announced excitedly, fingers
grasping eagerly for coveted weapon.

"Would you kill me?"

"I have club, I kill you, you not so big."

"But if I gave you the club wouldn't I be your friend? Then wouldn't
you want to kill someone else?"

The novelty of this alien thought stopped the slave dead and he
scratched his head perplexedly until Narsisi lashed him back to work.
Jason sighed and found another slave to try his sales program on.

It took a while, but the idea was eventually percolating through the
ranks of the slaves. All they had to look forward to from the
D'zertanoj was backbreaking labor and an early death. Jason offered
them something else, weapons, a chance to kill their masters, and even
more killing later when they marched on Appsala. It was difficult for
them to grasp the idea that they must work together to accomplish this
and not kill Jason and each other as soon as they received weapons.

It was a chancy plan at best, and would probably break down long
before any visit could be made to the city. But the revolt should be
enough to free them from bondage, even if the slaves fled afterwards.
There were less than fifty D'zertanoj at this well station, all men,
with their women and children at some other settlement further back in
the hills. It would not be too hard to kill them or chase them off and
long before they could bring reinforcements Jason and his runaway
slaves would be gone. There was just one factor missing from his plans
and a new draft of slaves solved even that problem for him.

"Happy days," he laughed, pushing open the door to his quarters and
rubbing his hands together with glee. The guard shoved Mikah in after
him and locked the door. Jason secured it with his own interior bolt
then waved the two others over to the corner farthest from the door
and tiny window opening.

* * * * *

"New slaves today," he told them, "and one of them is from Appsala, a
mercenary or a