Mariners of Gor (59 page)

“And doubtless,” I said, “you can learn it well, again, or better.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

I then released her, and she drew back in the kennel, bent over, in its darkness, weeping.

Some free women think that they can never be taught the collar, but, when it is on them, they learn differently, and swiftly.

Chapter Twenty-Six

What Occurred in the Courtyard of the Castle of Lord Temmu

It had been a good cast, from twenty yards, the javelin into the heavy post set in the courtyard.

“Well done, Philoctetes,” I said.

There was general assent from the fellows about.

To one side Pani archers, with their large, unusual bows, were plying shafts into silk-covered straw targets.

I would not have cared to meet such fellows in the field.

“When will we march?” inquired Philoctetes.

“We must wait,” I said.

A robust exploratory force of some five hundred men, a hundred Pani warriors of the men of Lord Temmu, and four hundred of our mercenaries, our armsmen, had been sent forth eight days ago.

Behind us we heard the striking of sharpened steel. Obviously one does the best to control the blade, but, even so, blood can be shed in such exercises.

“Many of the enemy, it is said,” said a fellow, “are low Pani, impressed into service. The blast of a war horn should send them running back to their fields.”

“Our fellows will harvest them like Sa-Tarna, split them like tospits, crush them like dried larmas,” said another.

“Our fellows were well met at the defile, and on the beach,” said a man, thoughtfully.

“We were taken by surprise, ambushed,” said a man. “We were not ready.”

“Those were prize troops,” said a fellow, “gathered, and set.”

“We stood up to them well enough at the evacuation,” said another.

“Consider how heavily we were outnumbered,” said another.

I was pleased to some extent, of course, that the morale of our armsmen seemed high. On the other hand, as far as I could tell, there was a serious likelihood that we might be seriously outnumbered in any pitched battle. The ideal, of course, is to engage the enemy only when it is to one’s advantage, not to his advantage. Small units are likely to overcome smaller units. Thus, a smaller army, rapid and evasive, judiciously disposed and applied, may, in time, in a hundred actions, a hundred skirmishes, inflict much damage on a larger army, if its elements can be met seriatim, and divided. Statistically, two men are likely to vanquish a single man, one engaging, one killing, with the result that there is not likely to be one survivor, one of the two men, but rather two of the two men, the two who held the numerical advantage, slender though it might have seemed.

“Our fellows should be soon back, with trophies,” said a man.

“And perhaps women,” said another.

“They will be Pani women,” said a man.

“What matter?” said another.

“How are they?” asked another.

“In the village,” said another, “go to the slave hut.”

I had no idea of how effective lower Pani, mostly peasants, impressed or enlisted as
ashigaru
, might be, as it was not their way of life, so to speak, as it seemed to be for higher Pani, such as the warriors of Lord Temmu, and Lords Nishida and Okimoto, but I was sure they could be trained, might be terrified not to fight, and, in any event, might be present in large numbers. And, of course, they would be stiffened by, and supplemented by, higher Pani, the sort who had, it seems, though doubtless in greater numbers, previously reduced and decimated the men of Lords Nishida and Okimoto, warriors for whom I entertained the highest regard.

In any event, I feared our fellows might underestimate the enemy. It is always preferable to anticipate the larl and meet the urt, than expect the urt and meet the larl.

Several men, in their turn, freed of duty for the day, had issued from the courtyard, down various trails, to the local villages. I myself, in recent days, had visited two such villages. During the day, of late, the gates of the castle had been open. Lesser Pani were mostly barred entry, but higher Pani, and we, during the day, if not on duty, came and went rather as we wished. At night, the gates were closed, and access, and exit, it seemed, was carefully supervised. Probably secret signals were employed. The Pani, I had discovered on the ship, were familiar with such devices, and, as I later learned, with ciphers and codes, as well. When the men chose to leave the castle, they were given marked shells, rather like
ostraka
. These could be exchanged for things in the villages, fish, rice,
sake
, a fermented drink made from rice, and such, and, in the stalls, beads, cloth, trinkets, and such. These shells were not typical Pani currency, which, for the most part, consisted of metal coins, of silver, gold, and copper, of various certified weights, struck by various
shoguns
. As on the continent there is no common currency, but a variety of currencies, which often entails rumors, scales, bargainings, and such. Many of these coins, not all, were perforated in the center. One threads one or more such coins on a string, the string fastened about the bottom and top coin, or loops a string through several coins, and ties the loop shut above the top coin. In this way the coins are kept together, perhaps tied about one’s waist, under the clothing, or put about one’s neck, under the clothing, or simply dropped into a pouch, usually of silk. Lesser Pani sometimes, on errands, carry the coin or coins in the mouth, rather as slaves may on the continent, and on the islands, while marketing for their masters. The marked shells, then, I gathered, were rather in the nature of a form of script. I also gathered that if the villagers did not accept them they risked the loss of an eye, a hand, a foot, or a head. As long as they were unquestioningly exchanged, of course, at least in the local villages, the nature of the material made little difference. The marking on the shells, in part done in dots, presumably for our benefit, stipulated the value to be assigned to the shell. One bargained, of course, with such things, much as one might with pieces of metal, or, in the Barrens, with beads, strips of leather, furs, blankets, arrowheads, bowstrings, slaves, and such. In one village there was a slave hut, as alluded to, popular with the men, whose occupants I looked in on, but did not put to use. Their use cost a two-dot shell. The girls in the hut were not contract women but slaves, as the Pani keep slaves, as well as others, as is common in refined, advanced civilizations. The hut was lit by hanging lamps, and floored by a large, colorful mat, presumably to enhance the pleasure of the clients, for the Pani, at least the high Pani, refined, and civilized, tend to be quite open to the pleasures of the senses, such as color, textures, scents, and such. The girls, too, were given lovely silken sheets, which they might hold about themselves. Naturally they kneel humbly before the men, for they are not only females, but slaves. The Pani free women, incidentally, seem, except for the companions of high officers, and such, to have much lower status than the typical Gorean free woman, certainly one of upper caste. For example, an older sister, even a mother, must defer to a male child, bowing first, and such. When a client enters the hut, if he thinks he might find one of the slaves of interest, he has her stand before him, her head down. He then lifts away the sheet and considers her. If he is pleased, he instructs her as to how he wishes to be pleased. These slaves, with an exception or two to be noted, are Pani females. Many are captured in war, some are bought in the girl markets, to which I have hitherto referred, and some, it seems, are bred for the market. Each is chained by the ankle to a post which protrudes through a prepared aperture in the mat. Each, I was pleased to note, wore a locked metal collar, or a neck chain, with its attached slave disk, padlocked about her neck. In some Gorean cities slaves are put in the padlocked neck chain, with the slave disk, identifying her master, and sometimes noting her current name, but the locked metal collar is far more common, indeed, almost universal. It seems more secure, and is easily engraved. Some cities use the slave anklet on the left ankle, which is attractive. But as we recognize, and the Pani do as well, the ideal mounting site for a token of bondage is the neck. On the neck, the token is prominently displayed, for all to note. Too, on the neck, the collar is beautifully secure. It is absolutely unslippable, even a Turian collar. Too, with the loss of a foot or ankle, an anklet or bracelet might be lost. On the other hand, if one were to cut away the head, one has lost the slave. As noted, such slaves are almost always Pani females. On the other hand, when I looked into the slave hut, two slaves, Thetis and Iole, whom I recalled from the ship, and castle, were ankle-chained to posts in the slave hut. This was temporary, of course, for our slaves had not been brought across the ocean to be squandered in a village’s slave hut, not even that of a rather large village, as was the nearest village, this village, which could be reached on foot in less than a quarter of an Ahn. They had been insufficiently prompt in service, or insufficiently deferent, I gathered, to a keeper, or a free person, and had thus been brought down to the village and put on their chains. “Master!” they cried out to me, from their knees, seeing me, extending their hands piteously to me. I supposed they had hoped that I had come to return them to their kennels on the castle grounds, but I had not. I had not even realized they were here, being disciplined. Their outburst earned them a cry of rage from the Pani woman in charge of the slave hut, who tore away their sheets, and gave them several stinging strokes of a bamboo switch. She apparently did not care for the two new slaves, with strange eyes, and light skin. Inquiries suggested, though, that the two new slaves were not unpopular with the hut’s clientele. One supposes that novelty to some extent entered into the matter. To be sure, there were difficulties for the girls, as some of the commands they were given were unfamiliar, even unintelligible, to them. They simply did not know what to do. The Pani clients, of course, took it for granted that any slave in the slave hut would be obedient, prompt, and adept in a variety of performances. This innocent ignorance was not without its consequences, of course, and the girls were often subjected to castigation, scorn, kicks, slappings, and the stroke of the bamboo switch. Happily, I learned, Saru, the slave given by Lord Nishida to Lord Temmu, and the ten slaves given by Lord Okimoto to Lord Temmu, were more patiently and gently treated. One is not entitled to assume that a fair-skinned slave from abroard, one from a far different culture, is going to know what might be expected of her, the proper serving, for example, of
sake
, the appropriate temperature, and such.

The staple in the Twelve Islands, which is actually far more than twelve, is not Sa-Tarna, but rice.

Rice fields, or paddies, are associated with each village. A
daimyo
or
shogun
will have suzerainty over various villages, which he protects, and from which he obtains the means to maintain his men.

He who controls the rice, it is said, controls the islands.

Several rice fields were associated with the holding of Lord Temmu, most north and west of the castle. To reach such fields by land would mean to pass the holding of Lord Temmu. To reach them from the sea, from the north or west, one would have to put into shore, on the other side of the island, negotiate a difficult terrain, and thread one’s way through guarded, easily defended passes. By the time one could reach the fields, it was likely the
ashigaru
of Lord Temmu would be in position.

“It is said,” said Philoctetes, “Tarl Cabot is on the grounds.”

“I have not seen him,” I said.

To be sure, whenever it was thought he was at the castle, rumors hastened about. Certainly he was much in conversation.

This obviously had much to do with the war which, at present, seemed faraway.

As suggested earlier, it was not clear, at least to the lower ranks, when we might march.

It did seem clear that Lord Temmu had in mind carrying the war to the enemy. Certainly the reinforcement by foreign armsmen, and the acquisition of tarns, would suggest as much.

“Last night, on tarnback,” he said.

“What is the meaning of that?” asked a man.

“I do not know,” I said.

“A coordination is being envisaged,” speculated a fellow.

That seemed to me likely.

“I think,” said a man, “we are soon to march.”

“The exploratory force,” said another, “is still abroad.”

“Look,” said a fellow. “There is another.”

“Ah!” said a man.

The fellow was pointing to a high storey of the castle, where there was a beating of wings, dark against the sky, and then the tiny bird disappeared, within. Though I had never been in that room, its window high, unshuttered, open to the sky, it obviously housed a number of the swift-flighted, messenger vulos, by means of which Pani might convey messages. These, it seems, were placed in tiny wrappers, and fastened to one of the bird’s legs. Vulos who would seek this cot were carried about, for example, to the training area of the tarns somewhere back in the mountains, and, there, I had no doubt, in the mountains, were kept, in their tiny wood-barred cages, vulos which, if released, would seek as their cot and roost the very room above, high in the castle. Similarly there must have been vulos in that room which, if released, would seek a different cot and roost, perhaps, for example, one housed in the training area for tarns, back in the mountains.