Guardsman of Gor (12 page)

I put my hand onto the breakage. The hole in the hull was some two feet in height. Water, as the hull shifted, would rush past me, flooding into the hold. I climbed into the hold. It was dark. A crate, loose in the water, struck against my legs. The water was then to my knees. I felt the Tamira shudder, and water rushed past me, aft. The floor of the hold tilted beneath my feet. Outside I saw the dark shape of the Tais swinging to starboard. Then, not hurrying, she withdrew. She had done her work.

The ship suddenly tilted sternward and I slipped in the hold, and slid aft, then struggling in the water. The breakage in the hull, through which I could see stars, was several feet away, and up the steep slope of the tilted floor of the hold. More water poured in through the breakage. Holding to the side of the hold I pulled my way toward the breakage. I got my hands on its edges and pulled myself through. I dove swiftly into the water.

I turned in time to see the Tamira, stern first, slip under the water. I fought back against the undertow. Then, again, the water was calm.

"Help!" I heard. "Help!'

My heart leapt. I swam toward the sound. I came to the two men struggling in the water.

"I cannot support him!" cried a voice.

"I shall help you!" I said.

I reached out and clutched the iron collar locked on the man's neck. "Do not struggle!" I told him. His hands, in manacles, on a single chain passing through a loop on the collar, thrashed at the water. Too, from the manacles; other chains disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

"Do not struggle, Master!" begged the other man.

"Can you stay afloat? Can you swim?" I asked them.

"Our feet are chained!" said the man who had spoken.

"Hold to your fellow," I said. "I can support you."

I then drew them through the water to a piece of floating wreckage. I drew the first man upon it. The second climbed painfully, hampered by the chains, to its surface.

"I had not thought to meet you thus," I told them. "Strange indeed can be the fortunes of war."

"We are alone, in the river," said the first man, he whom the second had addressed as `Master.' "It is night. We are among enemies."

"Not all are enemies," I reassured him.

"What hope is there?" he asked.

"There is hope," I assured him.

A vessel, a lantern at her bow, nosed towards us.

"We are lost," said the first man.

"Jason, is it you?" inquired a voice from the bow of the vessel.

"It is," I said.

"Come aboard," said Callimachus. "There is little time. We must make away."

I helped the two chained men to stand on the wreckage, that they might be lifted aboard the Tina.

"Who are your friends?" inquired Callimachus.

"Krondar, the fighting slave," I said, "and Miles, of Vonda."

X

WHAT HUNG AT OUR PROWS;

HOW WE GREETED KLIOMENES

I crossed the wrists of Lola and, with the dark strap, bound them tightly together, before her body. I then tied the line about her wrists, that strung through the prow ring. I signaled the sailor and he lifted her from her feet and threw her over the bow rail. In a moment, caught and held by the line, she dangled; an exhibited prize, at the prow. In a river galley, of the construction of the
Tina,
her legs fell on either side of the heavy, wooden concave slope of the bow to the water and ram. Shirley, whom I had taken from Reginald, captain of the
Tamira,
said once to have been of Tafa, hung at the bow of our lead ship, the
Tuka,
that vessel said to be a wellknown vessel of the Voskjard. Our Tina was second in our line. The Tais, which we feared might be recognized, brought up the rear. Both girls were naked. Both made lovely adornments to our ships. Preferably, of course, a stripped free woman hangs at the prow of the ship, that the degree of the victory may be made even more keen and manifest, but we were forced to make do with mere slaves. Free women are not often found in the vicinity of pirates. After a free woman has once been at the prow, there is nothing to do with her later, of course, but to make her a slave.

Our three ships made their way unhurriedly through the channel leading to the holding of Policrates.

"I would stand back," said Callimachus.

I did so. It would not do to be recognized. In my tunic, against my body, there was a mask of purple cloth. I had made it in Victoria before venturing west, there to join the
Tina
at the chain. It was identical to that which had been worn by the masked fellow who had tried to obtain the topaz from me in Victoria. I was certain that he had been the true courier of Ragnar Voskjard. I had thought that it might, in certain circumstances, prove useful. I did not, however, don it. I did not know if the courier would be expected to travel with the fleet of the Voskjard or not.

On the
Tuka
the rowers were singing, lustily. They wore an odd assortment of garbs. Insignia had been torn from clothing. Crests had been ripped from helmets, identificatory devices pried from the convex surfaces of shields. It was not a song of Ar they sang, but a river song, a song of pirates and brawlers, "The Ten Maids of Hammerfest," in which is recounted the fates which befell these lovely lasses. I was mildly scandalized that the stout fellows of Ar, soldiers and gentlemen, as Gorean gentlemen go, would even know these lyrics, let alone sing them with such unabashed gusto. I gathered that those of Ar's Station, as well as those of Port Cos and the other river towns, knew well what to do with women, providing, of course, they are put in collars.

I saw the flags run out on the stem-castle lines of the Tuka. The signals were those prescribed in the documents I had obtained from Reginald.

I saw answering flags run up on the walls of the holding of Policrates.

"Stay back," warned Callimachus.

I stepped back, further, but maintained still a position whence I might gauge the issuance of the action.

The
Tuka,
under the command of Aemilianus, lay to now, before the great sea gate of iron bars. Her rowers were now silent.

On the stem castle of the
Tuka
stood Miles of Vonda, one who was not of the river towns, and one who was almost certain to be unknown to the denizens of the holding. When freed on the
Tina
he had first expressed his desire to be put ashore, when possible, to make his way to Turmus, but, upon

learning that a certain slave, one called Florence, was confined within the high walls of the holding of Policrates he had begged instead to be granted a place on a bench and given a sword. These things had been granted him. He had permitted his beard to grow and, over one eye, had placed a patch. I did not think that even Simak, who was a captain of Policrates, he who, with Reginald, had waylaid the
Flower of Siba,
should he still be in the holding, would be likely to be able to identify him, to detect in the bearded ruffian on the stem castle of the Tuka the former refugee landowner from Vonda. We thought it otherwise with Krondar, the fighting slave. It would be difficult, once seen, to ever forget the massively scarred, misshapen countenance of Krondar, a veteran of many bouts with the spiked leather, and the knife gauntlets, in Ar. Krondar, sword in hand, with many of Ar's Station, crouched below decks in the hold of the Tuka.

My heart leaped. I saw a figure emerging on the walls. It was that of Kliomenes.

On the night of our escape from our encirclement on the river, we had set afire the Olivia, our slowest and clumsiest ship, and directed her eastward against the enemy's shifting lines, opened and disarranged by the departure of the Tamira from her position. This, we had hoped, would create a diversion, and lead the pirates, in the confusion and darkness, to assume that we were moving eastward, and that the Olivia had been set aflame by their own forces. We had then lain to, in the movement of ships, pennons of the Voskjard on -our lines should we fall within the light of passing lanterns. We had then withdrawn west to the chain, where we had salvaged the Tuka. At this point the Tamira, which had tenaciously kept with us, and despairing of support, desperately attacked. She had fallen prey to the swift Tais. Twice struck, she had soon sunk.

I had managed to rescue Miles of Vonda and Krondar, his slave, from the dark, wreckage-strewn water. Following the Tuka and the Tais, by prearranged plan, we in the Tina had then rowed southward along the chain until we came to the point where the northward-moving portion of the Voskjard's fleet, that which we had once mistaken for the support vessels of Callisthenes, had cut the chain. We did not think that the pirate vessels had been brought on rollers about the beach south of the chain's terminal pylons to the south. It had

shown no sign of combat or damage. Thus, it had not been opposed by Callisthenes. Accordingly, unopposed. it would have cut the chain rather than engage in the arduous task of beaching and moving over fifty ships some two or three hundred yards overland.

Our speculations in this matter proved correct and we used this break in the chain to move to its western side. Before we had left the vicinity of the encounter between the Tais and the Tamira, I had called loudly, as though to Callimachus, "We have made good our immediate escape! Let us hasten now to Tetrapoli, where our safety most securely may be sought!" There had been an answering cheer from the crew of the Tina, to which cheer the men, upon our signal, gave vent. This ruse, of course, was for the benefit of survivors of the Tamira, still in the water about, clinging to wreckage. When picked up by the vessels of the pirate fleet, turning westward, having discovered the ruse of the Olivia, they would report what they had heard.

To be sure, I did not think this small, second ruse was truly necessary. It would be assumed by those of the pirate fleet that we, if we could make it west of the chain, would surely fly to one of the western towns for refuge. Tetrapoli is the first major town west of the chain. It would never occur to them, nor probably even to Reginald, captain of the Tamira, if he had survived the clash with the Tais, what might be the true nature of our intentions. At the least we would wish to garner a large force, one sufficient to exploit any possible advantage which might accrue to us in virtue of our possession of the documents stolen from the Tamira. By the time such a force might be raised in the river towns, of course, the fleet of the Voskjard would have reached the holding of Policrates, reinforced it, and participated in the development of new security arrangements. Too, I did not think Reginald would be eager to report that the documents had been stolen from his own ship, before its loss to the Tais. Now, if he had survived the clash with the Tais, he could always maintain that the documents had been lost with the ship, in his bold and ill-fated attempt to prevent our escape. I had little doubt that he would find it preferable to be commended for gallantry than cut to pieces for an inadvertent lapse or negligence.

Miles of Vonda, on the stem castle of the Tuka, and Klio. menes, on the walls of the holding, exchanged signals.

We had not, of course, struck out for Tetrapoli, nor any of the other river towns. Instead of proceeding northwest toward Tetrapoli, or toward any other of the western towns, we had, under sail and oars, proceeded directly northward along the chain. By dusk we had come to the northern break in the chain, that produced by the second portion of the Voskjard's fleet. Utilizing this opening, the first produced by the buccaneers' incursions, we turned east by southeast. We had little doubt that we would be pursued first, mistakenly, northwestward toward Tetrapoli. While vessels followed our putative course, and the balance of the pirate fleet, regrouping and repairing injuries, waited upon their return, we sped, in alternating shifts, day and night toward the holding of Policrates. My original plan, I was confident, had it not been for its betrayal, would have gained us admittance into the holding.

I could not hear the discourse which took place between Kliomenes and Miles of Vonda, but I knew, and well, its nature.

"What is it which becomes whole when stones are joined?"

"That ship which sails a topaz sea."

"Where might be found a topaz sea?"

"Within four walls of rock."

"And where might be found these walls of rock?"

"About a topaz sea."

"Who owns the Vosk?"

"Those who own the ship that sails the topaz sea."

There was a cheer from the pirates on the walls. Kliomenes spoke to someone beside him. That man signaled another man, near the west gate tower. He, in turn, called out to another, apparently within the tower. Kliomenes stepped back from the wall. My hair stood up on the back of my neck. I heard the groan and the creak of the great gate. I saw the chains grow taut and then, protesting, dripping water, dark, wet and glistening, I saw the great bars lifting out of the water.

Callimachus, near me, lifted and dropped his blade a bit in his scabbard. It was a warrior's gesture. He may not even have been aware that he did it. It was as natural as the curling of the lip of a sea sleen, anticipatory to the baring of a fang, trembling, preparing to charge.

"Do not do that;" whispered Callimachus to me.

"What?" I asked.

"Loosening your sword," he said. "That suggests that you expect to use it."

"I did that?" I asked.

"Yes," said he.

"I am sorry," I said. I smiled to myself.

I wondered how many of the hands of the fellows, mostly of Ar's Station, tensed on their oars in the Tuka, anticipating the reach below their benches to where their weapons lay concealed.

The sea gate rose. I was well aware of the force required to lift that weight.

Within the holding I could hear the sound of flutes, drums and kalikas. The melody, however, was slow and decorous.

Miles of Vonda had represented us, of course, as being the Advance ships of the Voskjard's fleet

I looked upward as we moved slowly, rowing, sail down, Under the great gate. It was impossible to pass beneath it without a sense of apprehension. I remembered how, the last time, it had plunged downward. It had shattered the ship on which I had ridden in two.

Then, following the Tuka, the Tais behind us, we were within the holding's sea yard.

Kliomenes bad descended from the wall. He was waiting on the broad walk, near the iron door leading within the holding, for Miles of Vonda. Lines were being cast from the Tuka to willing hands on the walk.

More than fifty slave girls, their hair coiffured high on their heads, clad in sleeveless, classic gowns of white silk, were aligned on the walk nearest the wall containing the iron door, that leading within to the halls of the fortress. To the music of the musicians, near the iron door, they performed a most decorous dance, slowly and gracefully lifting their arms and turning, facing first one side and then the other. In their hands they held baskets of flower petals. The dance was the sort that free maidens of a city might perform to honor and welcome visiting dignitaries, or the ambassador and his entourage, of a foreign city. Had their gowns not been sleeveless, and had they not been barefoot, and had their throats not been locked in collars, one might have mistaken them for free women. I could smell viands, too, cooking, the delicious

odors of them emanating from the holding. A feast was being prepared.