Rebels of Gor

by John Norman

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  What Occurred on the Archery Range

  “It is the test of twelve arrows,” said Lord Yamada. “You have perhaps heard of it.”

  “Yes,” said Nodachi, “and that none have survived it.”

  “I am not a fool,” said Lord Yamada.

  “It was not thought so,” said Nodachi.

  “Nor is my patience inexhaustible,” he said.

  “It was not thought so,” said Nodachi, not moving within the ropes which held his body bound to the post, his hands free, in the exercise yard.

  “I am in touch with the negotiations being pretended in the holding of Temmu,” he said. “Message vulos keep me informed, and I have intelligence by tarn, as well. The pretended negotiations, obviously not in good faith, were a transparent ruse to buy time, but for what? Temmu has no army rushing to his rescue. My forces lie before the holding. He is trapped. The tarn cavalry cannot withstand the fire of the iron dragon, which is even now poised to spread its wings. So time was bought for what, obviously an attempt on my life. And I have awaited your tiny league of assassins with interest. Was it not amazing that an allegedly remarkable swordsman should approach through the villages and towns at just such a time? Is that not an astonishing coincidence? And accompanied, as well! Yes, three or four must be available to assure matters. One might not be enough. I viewed you at the gate, with the Builder’s glass, on the walks, approaching through the garden, even to the great portal itself. And so there was our swordsman, and his cohorts! And what cohorts, their features concealed with wind scarves! Who could they be? Would they not be, if possible, individuals familiar with the palace and its grounds, those who would have been within its rooms and corridors, who would know their way about? And the grounds! Did I not, through the Builder’s glass, see one of your number adjust the vines of the blue climber on the railings of the garden bridge? Who but a gardener, and the finest of gardeners, would note, or be disturbed by, so small a fault in such a place?”

  “We are fools, indeed, great lord,” said Nodachi, “but there was little else to be done. We did what we could. We failed.”

  “I have discontinued the mockery of negotiations,” said Lord Yamada. “The siege is laid. Time is on the side of those who control the rice.”

  “If the rice can be obtained,” said Nodachi.

  “It can be harvested with the sword,” said Lord Yamada.

  “It is often so,” said Nodachi.

  “Do you think, swordsman,” asked Lord Yamada, “that the fool Temmu, the wicked, will surrender his holding?”

  “No,” said Nodachi.

  “Nor I,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Do you think he understands that it can be destroyed by the iron dragon?”

  “Yes,” said Nodachi.

  “Does he wish it destroyed?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “No,” said Nodachi.

  “Nor I,” said Lord Yamada.

  Nodachi did not respond.

  “I am prepared to offer a truce,” said Lord Yamada. “And gold, and amnesty to him and his men, should they withdraw from the holding.”

  “Lord Yamada is generous,” said Nodachi.

  “They need only withdraw unarmed,” said Lord Yamada.

  “It is the generosity of the ost,” said Nodachi.

  “Do you think that Temmu will destroy the holding, rather than surrender it?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “Yes,” said Nodachi.

  “I do, as well,” said Lord Yamada. “The matter is thus perplexing.”

  “The great lord desires the holding,” said Nodachi.

  “As it seems the holding is to be destroyed, in either case,” said Lord Yamada, “either by the breath of the iron dragon or the torches of Temmu, one may as well be done with it, and free the iron dragon.”

  “But the great lord desires the holding,” said Nodachi.

  “We shall offer the truce, and the bounty for surrender,” said Lord Yamada. “If it is declined, we shall issue an ultimatum. On the third day following, the iron dragon will fly. The holding will be destroyed. It will be mine or cease to exist.”

  “It is a lofty, mighty, and beautiful holding,” said Nodachi.

  “Walls will crumble, the mountaintop will be black, ashes will blow out to sea,” said Lord Yamada.

  “Does the great lord not fear the tarn cavalry?” asked Nodachi.

  “No longer,” said Lord Yamada. “The iron dragon can burn it out of the sky.”

  I feared this was true.

  No sooner than Nodachi, Pertinax, Tajima, Haruki, and I had been admitted through the great portal we had been set upon by dozens of waiting Ashigaru, purportedly placed to lead us into the presence of Lord Yamada.

  We were swiftly subdued and bound.

  “This, I take it,” had said Lord Yamada, when we were brought, helpless, before him, “is the remarkable swordsman of whom you spoke?”

  “It is, Lord,” said Katsutoshi, captain of the shogun’s guard.

  “An unprepossessing fellow,” had commented the shogun.

  “But dangerous, Lord,” said Katsutoshi. “The sword is as his hand, the blade like the stroke of lightning, a flash, and the matter is done.”

  “You slew Izo,” said Lord Yamada, “the first sword in my guard.”

  “He was angry,” said Nodachi. “One’s anger is often the friend of one’s foe.”

  “In all my lands,” said Lord Yamada, “I myself am the finest sword.”

  Nodachi, in his bonds, bowed.

  “It might be sport to try your skills,” said Lord Yamada.

  “This humble one, great lord,” said Nodachi, “is ever at your service.”

  “What sport that might be,” said Lord Yamada, “but, ela, it is regrettable, a penalty of the shogunate. The shogun does not cross swords with upstarts, vagabonds, mountebanks, magicians, common warriors.”

  “Propriety is understood,” said Nodachi, again bowing.

  “Perhaps the shogun is afraid,” I said.

  Lord Yamada looked at me, hurt.

  “Forgive me, Lord,” I said. “I spoke foolishly.”

  “It is pleasant to see you in the palace once more,” said Lord Yamada, “but one might have hoped for happier circumstances.”

  “True,” I said.

  “I had high hopes for you,” he said.

  “I fear I have disappointed you,” I said.

  “I liked you,” he said.

  “And I you,” I said.

  “And yet you would kill me?” he said.

  “If it should prove practical,” I said, “quite possibly.”

  “Such is war,” he said.

  “True,” I said.

  “I no longer need the tarn cavalry,” he said.

  “I understand,” I said.

  “I now have the iron dragon,” he said.

  “I saw it,” I said, “at the holding of Temmu.”

  He then turned aside from me. “And here we have two fine young officers,” he said, “one barbarian, one Pani, this one Pertinax, that one Tajima.”

  Both Pertinax and Tajima bowed, politely, in their ropes.

  “Perhaps one of you interfered with an execution,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” said Pertinax.

  “Where is Sumomo?” asked the shogun.

  “Sumomo no longer exists,” said Tajima.

  “She is dead,” said Lord Yamada.

  “No,” said Tajima, “she has been renamed; she is now in the collar of a slave.”

  “Excellent,” said Lord Yamada. “Was it you who fastened the collar on her neck?”

  “And pressed the burning iron into her thigh,” said Tajima.

  “Excellent,” said Lord Yamada. “And do you derive great pleasure from the use of her body?”

  “Yes,” said Tajima.

  “You make her leap and squirm, and moan and cry out, as a slave in your arms?”

  “Yes,” said Tajima, “as the slave she is.”

  �
�Splendid,” said Lord Yamada. “I always thought she had the belly of a slave, but then, do not all women, properly handled?”

  “You are not angry?” said Tajima.

  “No,” he said, “the execution was to serve a political purpose, which no longer exists. All that is now wiped away. Other things being equal, it is a waste to feed a beautiful young thing to ignorant, unappreciative, voracious fish. It is much better to have it in a collar, trembling at your feet.”

  “It is unfortunate,” said Pertinax, “that we had no opportunity to return golden chains, Tajima one, I, two.”

  “Do not concern yourselves,” said Lord Yamada. “They are yours, all yours, and delightedly bestowed.”

  “Thank you, Lord,” said Tajima.

  “Thank you, Lord,” said Pertinax.

  “Besides, with the fall of the house of Temmu, I might well recover them, and surely much more.”

  “Yes, Lord,” said Tajima.

  “Yes, Lord,” said Pertinax.

  Lord Yamada then turned to Haruki.

  “The garden misses you,” he said. “The garden is one of my pleasures, and since your departure a hundred tiny flaws have asserted themselves, unnoted by your inept successors.”

  “I fear so, Lord,” he said. There were tears in his eyes.

  Lord Yamada then turned back to Nodachi. “It is my understanding,” he said, “that you are keen of eye and quick of body.”

  Nodachi was silent.

  “Tomorrow,” said Lord Yamada, “we will test your skills on the archery range.”

  “I do not know the bow,” said Nodachi.

  “Nor, I suspect,” said the shogun, “the arrow.”

  “I see,” said Nodachi.

  At the time I did not understand this brief exchange. But, tomorrow, apparently, it was to become clear.

  The shogun then turned, again, to me. “I am sure you did not trek south,” he said. “Therefore, there will be tarns about. I do not think they could be concealed in the vicinity, but, rather, are some pasangs away. It does not matter. We will find and acquire them.”

  I did not respond to this.

  Lord Yamada was, of course, substantially correct. Some pasangs from the palace, in a deep draw, Ichiro had concealed four tarns, his, and three others, those with which Pertinax, Tajima, and I, Haruki behind the saddle of Tajima, had flown south. I had no doubt, as we had been captured, the countryside would soon be examined, that such mounts might be discovered. Hopefully, Ichiro could make away before he, and the mounts, might fall into the hands of the enemy. What particularly concerned me was that Ichiro would be unaware of our plight. We had contacted him and informed him of our plan before approaching the palace. We did not know, of course, at that time, if we would be called to the palace or not, and, if so, if we were to be allowed to approach the shogun, when that would be. We had not been in touch with him for some five days now. We had given the slave, Aiko, into his keeping, as there seemed no part for her in our plan, even if we had been willing to risk her in so dubious and hazardous a venture.

  * * *

  “It is the test of twelve arrows,” had said Lord Yamada. “You have perhaps heard of it.”

  “Yes,” had said Nodachi, “and that none have survived it.”

  There were several in the exercise yard, a length of which served as an archery range. I recalled I had once been called to attend on Lord Yamada here, and had been apprised of his skill with the great Pani bow. It was here, too, that Tyrtaios had brought his tarn down, delivering the unsuspecting Sumomo to the mercies of her father.

  Amongst those present were some five or six officers, some warriors, and several Ashigaru, some with glaives, others with bows, mostly small bows, some with quivers behind their left shoulder, some with quivers at their left hip. The daimyos of Lord Yamada were apparently north, with his generals, supervising the siege. Tajima, Pertinax, Haruki, and I were bound, our arms tied behind us. Each of us wore a leather collar, with a metal ring in the back. Through this ring a rope was threaded, and knotted about each ring. Each end of this rope was in the keeping of an Ashigaru.

  Lord Yamada wore a white exercise smock, as before. Several paces behind us, some forty paces, for it had been paced out, was an arrow stand. In this stand were twelve long arrows. Beside it, in a bow rack, resting horizontally, on projections, were four great bows, unstrung. This stand and the rack were flanked by two Ashigaru.

  “It will be interesting,” said Lord Yamada, “to see the outcome of our test. As you are doubtless well aware, it is not unknown in the islands. It has been used both in courts of law as a procedure for deciding guilt or innocence, and, more commonly, as an amusing manner of execution, in which the naive subject tortures himself into hoping that he may survive. As you are obviously of low birth, a simple, honorable beheading would not be appropriate. But, too, in virtue of your alleged skills, and my own curiosity pertaining to the accounts I have of you, we are putting aside the straw jacket, crucifixion, and such.”

  “This humble one is honored, great lord,” said Nodachi.

  “To the best of my knowledge,” said Lord Yamada, “no subject, at any time in the islands, has survived this test.”

  “That, too, great lord,” said Nodachi, “is my understanding.”

  “What are we to make of that?” asked Lord Yamada.

  “Perhaps,” said Nodachi, “that many were guilty.”

  “Or insufficiently skilled,” said Lord Yamada.

  I supposed the matter was much the same, in either case.

  “I have performed this test eleven times,” said Lord Yamada. “No one survived more than the second arrow.”

  Nodachi bowed, politely, slightly, acknowledging this intelligence.

  “Katsutoshi, captain of my guard,” said Lord Yamada, “will remain at hand, to supply the companion sword.”

  Nodachi bowed again.

  “Come, friends,” said Lord Yamada, “let us withdraw.”

  The crowd, including we four prisoners, then withdrew from the post to which Nodachi was bound, his hands free.

  We then arranged ourselves in the vicinity of the arrow stand and the bow rack.

  “Do not fear,” said Tajima.

  “There is much to fear,” I said.

  “He is Nodachi,” said Tajima.

  “Do not be naive, my dear friend,” I said.

  “He has meditated,” said Tajima. “The arrow is known to him. The bow, as well. Do not fear. All are friends.”

  “I do not understand,” I said.

  “He is as the arrow,” said Tajima. “He shares its flight, its swiftness, its intended destination.”

  I did not respond to this.

  Pertinax was obviously concerned.

  Lord Yamada selected the first bow, the highest bow, and strung it. As the bow was large, I had not expected it to be strung so easily. Lord Yamada had performed this action fluidly. I then realized he was much stronger than I had understood. The Ashigaru nearest the arrow stand then handed him one of the long arrows.

  “Are you ready?” called Lord Yamada to Nodachi.

  “Yes, Lord,” called Nodachi.

  Lord Yamada then put the arrow to the string. “Arm him,” he called to Katsutoshi, who then handed the companion sword to Nodachi, and stepped to the side.

  “The distance is forty paces,” said Lord Yamada. “It is my hope that he will survive the first arrow.”

  “He will do so,” said Tajima.

  I saw the large bow lifted, and then lowered, being trained on the target. Again, I was impressed, in spite of myself, with the combination of grace and elegance, with menace.

  I had had ample evidence before of the skill of Lord Yamada with the implement in hand, though before he had placed himself considerably farther from the target.

  I lifted my head a little.

  I did not think there was any wind.

  The arrow flashed from the bow.

  There was a cry of surprise, and pleasure from the crowd
.

  “Splendid!” called Lord Yamada.

  Nodachi inclined his head, bowing.

  He had struck the arrow away with a tiny flick of the companion sword.

  Lord Yamada extended his hand, in which the Ashigaru placed another arrow.

  “Let us hope well for him,” said Lord Yamada. “One once managed two arrows, but none three.”

  “Superb!” called Lord Yamada, clearly impressed, as the parts of the second arrow skittered to the side.

  “High fortune to you!” called Lord Yamada. “May you do well!”

  I heard bets being taken, some amongst officers, others amongst Ashigaru.

  The crowd then cried out with amazement, and pleasure.

  A new record had been set, apparently, at least with respect to previous outcomes of this sport on the grounds of Lord Yamada.

  “It is enough!” I cried, astonished, laughing. “Free him!”

  “One other did nearly as well,” said Lord Yamada.

  “No!” I cried, in misery.

  An Ashigaru strung the second bow, the draw of which, I feared, was stronger than the first. This bow was strung with some difficulty. I gathered Lord Yamada did not wish to weary or strain himself with preparing the bow, but preferred to accept it, set for use.

  He then advanced to a marker farther down the court, which would be not forty, but thirty, paces from the target.

  “Do not!” I called to the shogun.

  But I was paid no mind.

  The two unused bows and the nine unfired arrows were now beside the shogun, a little behind him, these brought by Ashigaru. The first Ashigaru carried the nine arrows. He who had strung the second bow now carried the two unused bows. A third Ashigaru, who seemed short, and brawny, was slightly in the background. I assessed him a very strong individual. He reminded me of the professional wrestlers who, with their troops, handlers, and drummers, sometimes visited the local villages and towns.

  Again, at the closer range, an arrow flashed from the bow.

  The crowd, and we prisoners, who had now followed Lord Yamada to the new marker, that set at thirty paces, were absolutely silent.

  The only sound had been that of the snap of the flat of a blade against a slender, narrow, swirling cylinder of wood.