Raiders of Gor (44 page)

the fringe of the'storm's garment.

And Thassa beneath us was suddenly streaked with the cold sunlight of Se'Kara,

and the bird was across and through the storm. In the, distance we could see

rocky beaches, and grass and brushland beyond, and beyond that, a woodland, with

Tur and Ka-la-na trees.

We took the shuddering bird down among the trees. Fish leaped free as I let the

bird hover, then alight. I unsaddled it and let it shake the water from its

wings and body. Then I threw over it the admiral's cloak. The boy and I built a

fire, over which we might dry our clothes and by which we might warm ourselves.

“We will return to Port Kar after the fall of darkness,” I told him.

“Of course,” he said.

The boy, Fish, and I now stood in the dimly lit great hall of my house, where,

the night before, had been celebrated the feast of my victory.

The only light in the huge high-roofed hall was furnished by a single brazier,

whose coals, through the iron basket, now glowed redly.

Our footsteps sounded hollow on the tiles of the hall. We had left the tam

outside on the promenade fronting on the lakelike courtyard.

We had encountered no tamsmen over the city.

The city itself was much darkened.

We had flown over the city, seeing below us the dark- ened buildings, the

reflection of the three moons of Gor Bickering in the dark canals.

Then we had come to my holding and now we stood, together, side by side, in the

apparently deserted, almost darkened great hall of my holding.

Our blades were unsheathed, those of an admiral of the fleet and a slave boy.

We looked about ourselves.

We had encountered no one in the passageways, or the rooms into which we had

come, making our way to.the great hall.

We heard a muffled noise, coming from a comer of the almost darkened hall.

There, kneeling on the tiles, back to back, their wrists bound behind their

backs to a slave ring, were two girls. We saw their eyes, wild, over their gags.

They shook their heads.

They wore the miserable garments of kitchen slaves.

They were the girl Vina, and Telima.

Fish would have rushed forward, but my hand restrained him.

Not speaking, I motioned that he should take his place at the side of the

entryway to the great hall, where he might not be seen.

I strode irritably to the two girls. I did not release them. They had permitted

themselves to be taken, to be used as bait. Vina was very young, but Telirna

should have known better, and yet she, too, the proud Telima, knelt helplessly

at the ring, her wrists bound behind her back, securely and expertly gagged, a

young and beautiful woman, yet fastened as helplessly to a slave ring as a young

girl.

I gave her head a shake. “Stupid wench,” I said.

She was trying to tell me that there were men about, to attack me.

“The mouths of rence girls,” I said, “are said to be as large as the delta

itself.”

She could make only tiny, protesting, futile noises.

I examined the gag. Heavy leather strips were bound tightly across her mouth,

doubtless holding a heavy packing within, probably rep-cloth. Such a gag would

not be pleasant to wear. It had been well done.

“At last,” I commented, “someone has discovered a way to keep rence girls

quiet.”

There were tears in Telima's eyes. She squirmed in futility,'in fear, in fury.

I patted her on the head condescendingly.

She looked at me in rage and exasperation.

I turned away from the girls, but stood before them.

I spoke loudly. “Now,” I said, “let us release these, wenches.”

In that instant I heard, from down the passageway, a sharp whistle, and the

sound of running feet, those of several men. I saw torches being carried.

“At him!” cried Lysias, helmeted, the helmet bearing the crest of steen hair,

marking it as that of a captain. Lysias himself, however, did not engage me.

Several men rushed forward, some of them with torches.

Perhaps forty men rushed into the room.

I met them, moving swiftly, constantl shifting my position, drawing them after

me, then pressing one or another of them back. I kept, as well as I could, near

the girls, that the backs of the men would be, in turn, kept toward the

entryway.

I could see, as they did not, a shadow moving -swiftly behind them, it, too,

rapidly shifting its position, moving about amidst the frantic shadows of men,

torches and confusions, but always staying in the background, like an absence of

substance but one which carried a blade of steel. Then the shadow had donned a

helmet, and it was almost indistinguishable from the others. Those who fell

before that shadow did so unnoticed, and without great cries, for the blade had

crossed their throats as unexpectedly as a whisper in the darkness.

I myself dropped nine warriors.

Then we heard more shouting, and saw more torches.

Now the room was high with light and even the beams of the hall stood forth,

heavy in their ceiling.

Now, discovered, Fish fought by my side, that we might, together, protect one

another.

“Now, Slave,” said I to Fish, “you should have stayed with the fleet.”

“Be silent,” said he, adding, “—Master.”

I laughed.

I saw the boy, with a lightning thrust, Hash four inches steel through a body,

returning to the on-guard position before the man realized he had been struck.

In fighting as we were, one did not use a deep thrust, that the blade might be

more swiftly freed.

“You have learned your lessons well,” said I, “Slave.”

“Thank you, Master,” said he.

He dropped another man.

I dropped two others, to my right.

I heard more men coming down the passageway.

Then, from one side, the door to the kitchens, a number of other men came forth,

carrying torches and steel.

We are lost, I thought. Lost.

To my fury I saw that these men were led by Samos of Port Kar.

“So,” I cried, “as I thought, you are in league with the enemies of Port Kar!”

But to my astonishment he engaged and dropped one of our attackers.

I saw that some of the men with him were my own, who had been left behind in the

holding, to guard it. Others I did not know.

“Withdraw!” cried Lysias, wildly in the fighting.

His men backed away, fighting, and we, and those others who had come to help us,

pressed them back even as they retreated through the great door to the

high-roofed hall.

At the entryway we stopped and threw shut the doors, dropping the beams into

place.

Samos and I, together, dropped the last beam into the heavy iron brackets.

He was sweating and the sleeve of his tunic was torn. There was a splash of

blood across his face, staining the left side of his face, his short, white,

cropped hair and the golden ring in his ear.

“The fleet?” he asked.

“Victory is ours,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He sheathed his sword. “We are defending the keep near the

delta wall,” he said. “Follow me.”

Near the bound girls he stopped.

“So here you are,” said Samos. He turned to face me. “They snuck away to find

you.”

“They were successful,” I said.

I slashed the binding fiber which, tying their wrists together, had passed

through the slave ring, fastening them to it. They struggled to their feet.

Their wrists, though no longer tethered to the slave ring, were still fastened

behind their backs. They were still gagged. Vina ran to Fish, tears in her eyes,

and thrust her head against his left shoulder. He took her in his arms.

Telima approached me timidly, head down, and then, looking up, smiling with her

eyes, put her head against my right shoulder. I held her to me.

“So,” Fish was saying to Vina, “you snuck away from the keep.”

She looked at him, startled.

He took her by the shoulders, turned her about and started her stumbling down

the kitchen passageway. Then, with a swift motion, he leaped behind her and,

with the flat of his blade, dealt her a sharp, stinging blow. She sped down the

passageway.

“You, too,” I said to Telima, “apparently left the keep unbidden.”

She backed warily away from me.

“Have you something to say to me, Rence Girl?” I asked.

“Umm-ummph,” protested Telima, shaking her head. I took a step toward her.

She shook her head. She had a don't-you-dare-you- beast-you look in her eyes.

I took another step toward her.

Telima, dignity to the winds, turned and fled down the passageway, but, before

she had managed to make ten yards, she had been stung twice, and roundly, by the

flat of my blade.

Twenty yards beyond, running, she stopped, and turned to look upon me. She drew

herself up in her full, angry dignity.

I took another step toward her and, wildly, she wheeled and, barefoot, fled

stumbling down the passageway.

The dignity of the proud Telima, I gathered, could not endure another such blow.

I laughed.

“One must know how to treat women,” said the boy, Fish, gravely.

“Yes,” I said, gravely.

“One must teach them who is master,” said the boy.

“Quite,” I agreed.

The men about us laughed and, as comrades in arms, we made our way through the

passageway, and then the kit- chens, and the hads to the keep.

The next afternoon Samos and I stood together behind the parapet of the keep.

Over our heads, high, between beams, was strung tam wire. Heavy wooden

mantelets, mounted on posts, were nearby, under which we might protect ourselves

from crossbow fire from tarnsmen.

My large yellow bow of Ka-a-na, tipped with bosk hom and strung with hemp,

whipped with silk, was at hand, It had helped to keep besiegers at their

distance. There were few arrows left.

Our men were below. We were weary. We had caught what steep we could.

Now, only Samos and I stood watch.

Before my return to the holding, Samos, with his men and mine, had withstood

eleven assaults on the keep, both by tamsmen and besieging infantry. Since I had

returned yesterday evening, we had withstood another four. we now had left only

thirty-five men, eighteen who had accompanied Samos to my holding, and seventeen

of my own.

“Why have you come to defend my keep, and my holding?” I asked Samos.

“Do you not know?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“It does not matter,” he said, “now.”

“Had it not been for you and your men,” I said, “my holding would long ago have

fallen.”

Samos shrugged.

We looked out over the parapet. The keep is near the delta wall of the holding.

We could, from the ramparts, look out over the marsh, stretching far beyond,

that vast beautiful delta of the great Vosk, through which I had come, so long

ago.

Our men, exhausted, lay below, within the keep. The Ehn of sleep they could

obtain were precious to them They, like Samos and myself, were almost overcome

with weariness. The waiting, and then the fighting, and the waiting again, had

been so long, so long.

Also below were four girls, Vina and Telima, and Lums, the chief accountant of

my house, who had not iled, and the dancer, Sandra, who had been afraid to leave

the holding. Most others, whether men or women, slave or free, had fled. Even

Thumock and Thura, and Clitus and Ula, whom I had expected to stay, had fled. I

did not reproach them, even in my heart. They were wise. It was madness to stay

behind. In the end, I told myself, it was I, and not they, who was truly the

fool. And yet I would not have chosen, at this time, to be any place other than

where I stood, on height of my keep, in the holding I had made mine own in Port

Kar.

And so Samos, and I, kept watch.

I looked at him. I did not understand the slaver. Why had he come to defend my

holding? Was he so irrational so mad, so contemptuous Of the value of his life?

He did not belong here.

This holding was mine, minel

“You are weary,” said Samos. “Go below. I will watch.” I nodded. There was no

longer any point, nor time, to distrust Samos. His sword had been much stained

in my behalf. I-Es own life, like mine, had stood stake on the parapet of my

keep. If he served the Ubars, or Claudius, regent of Henrius Sevarius, or the

Ubarates of Cos and Tyros, or the Others, or Priest-Kings, or himself, I no

longer cared. I no longer cared about anything. I had wme back. I was very

tired.

I descended through the trap and climbed down the ladder to the first level

beneath the keep's roof. There was food and water there, enough for another week

of fight- ing. But I did not think we would need that much. Before nightfall

doubtless more assaults would take place, and in the first, or the second, or in

another, we would surely fall.

I looked about the room. The men were sleeping. It was and littered. They were

unshaven. Several of them, men of Samos, were unknown to me, but others, mine, I

had cared for. Some were even slaves, who bad fought with poles and hammers.

Others were men who had been slaves, whom I had freed and trained with weapons.

Others were seamen, and two others were mercenaries, who had refused to leave my

service. I saw the boy Fisk sleeping, Vina in his arms. He had done well, I