by John Norman
I nearly cried out. Something under the water, moving, had touched my leg.
Nearby was a barge, one of the larger craft in our makeshift flotilla, carrying perhaps fifty men. It was poled by ten men to a side, working in shifts. Some other fellows, with their helmets, cast water out of it. Other men clung to its stern.
I could not see far from the water, but there were men and small boats, rafts and such, all about.
I was not the only fellow in the water. There were many there. Most of these fellows were in long lines. In this fashion, the first fellow can mark out footing for those who follow and each man can keep his eye on the fellow before him. Too, a small craft would normally bring up the rear of such lines.
A rence craft floundered near us, settling in the water.
"Pull, sleen," ordered the man behind me.
Again I struggled to move the small craft forward.
"Had I a whip," he cried, "you would move faster!"
"Leech!" I said. "Leech!" I could feel it on my back. It was large. It may have been what had touched me in the water. I could not reach it with my chained hands.
"Help!" I heard. "Help!"
I turned about and saw a fellow several yards back, to one side, his eyes wild with horror, lift his hands. "I cannot move!" he cried. "I sink!" He had sought a shallower course. There are many such, here and there. The water there had come only to his knees. But as I watched he had sunk to his waist.
"Quicksand!" said another fellow.
A spear was extended to the first fellow and he seized it, eagerly, desperately, the water now about his neck, and was drawn free.
"Stay in line!" chided an officer.
But the fellow, I think, uttering accessions, covered with sand, needed no further encouragement. He swiftly, gratefully, took his place in one of the long lines.
The loss of men to quicksand was rare now, given the lines, in the first days in the delta over two hundred men had been lost, in one case an entire platoon. Several others, unaccounted for, may also have been victims of the treacherous sand.
"Move," called the fellow behind me.
"On my back," I said, "I can feel it! A leech! Take it off!"
"You can be covered with them, spying sleen," snarled the man, "for all I care."
"I ask that it be removed," I said.
"Do not fear," said the fellow. "They are only hungry. When they have their fill, they will drop off."
"Here is another," said a fellow wading near me, holding up its wet, half-flattened, twisting body in his hand. It was some four inches long, a half inch thick.
"There are probably a great many of them here," said the fellow, dropping it back in the water.
I shuddered.
"Do not approach the boat," warned the fellow behind me.
I shuddered again. I felt another such creature on my leg, high, in the back.
"Ho, hold!" cried a man, high on a platform, set on the bow of one of the barges. He could, from that coign of vantage, look over the rence. "There!" he cried. "A covered barge, ahead!" An officer climbed up beside him. He shaded his eyes. "Yes, lads," he called down. "A barge! Not one of ours! We are on them now!"
There were cheers, from perhaps a thousand voices.
"Forward, lads!" cried other officers. "Forward!"
Men pressed forward.
I could hear cheers from far behind me now, so swiftly had the word spread through the rence.
"There," cried the man behind me. "The pursuit draws to a close. The vengeance of Ar is at hand!"
My neck was sore.
"Now soon, sleen," gloated he, "will you see your Cosian masters beneath our blades!"
I stood unsteadily in the water. I could feel the leeches on my body, one on my back, another on my leg. Then, shuddering, I felt yet another. It was fastening itself near the first, on my back.
"Pull," ordered the fellow behind me.
Again I drew the craft forward, straining against the rope, it cutting into the side of my neck.
The sun was high overhead now.
We made little progress, it seemed, in closing the gap between ourselves and the alleged barge ahead. From time to time it was sighted again.
The men of Ar, in their boats, and wading, after a time, began to sing. The marsh echoed with their songs.
"What barge is that?" I asked, suddenly.
It, gliding by, poled by several men, seemed an apparition in the marsh. It was purple, and gilded, its bow in the graceful shape of the neck and head of a long-necked, sharp-billed gant, its stern carved to represent feathers, It had an open, golden cabin, covered with translucent golden netting. The poles propelling the craft were golden. Such a vessel made a startling, unconscionable contrast with the meanness, that wretched, ragged, numerous miscellany, of other craft about. Certainly it belonged not in the delta but in some canal or placid waterway.
"She wants to be in on the kill," said a fellow.
"She?" I said.
"Ina, Lady of Ar," said a fellow.
" 'Ina'," I said, "that could be the name of a slave." Such names, 'Ina', 'Ita', 'Tuna', 'Tula', 'Di', 'Lita' and such, are common slave names. They, and many such names, are worn by hundreds of women in bondage. Earth-girl names, such as 'Shirley', 'Linda', 'Jane', and such, are also commonly used as slave names. One girl, of course, may, from time to time, have many different names, according to the whim of her master, or masters. She is a domestic animal, to be named as the master pleases.
"That is no slave," said a fellow.
"No," laughed another, perhaps ruefully.
"That is Ina, Lady of Ar," said a man, "attached to the staff of Saphronicus, a political observer, said to be a confidant of, and to report to, the Lady Talena, of Ar, herself."
"Where is the barge of Saphronicus?" I asked.
"It is back there, somewhere, doubtless," said a man.
"Doubtless," I said.
"Other vessels pass you," said a man.
"Pull!" ordered the fellow behind me.
Again I put my weight against the rope, once more moving the sodden craft forward.
10 Morale is High
"Lie still," said the fellow crouching next to me.
I shuddered, lying in the sand. The reaction was uncontrollable, involuntary, reflexive.
"Still," he said. He held the bit of rence stalk, still smoking from the fire, to one of the creatures on my back. I could feel it pulling out of my skin. He then picked it from my back, dropping it to the side, with others.
I did not know how much blood I had lost, though I suppose, objectively, it was not much. How much can one of those creatures, even given the hideous distention of its digestive cavity, hold? Yet there had been many during the day. Many had released their hold themselves.
"That is the last one," observed the fellow, turning me about.
"My thanks," I said.
He had removed, by my count, eleven of the creatures. He had put them to the side. There are various ways in which they may be encouraged to draw out, not tearing the skin. The two most common are heat and salt. It is not wise, once they have succeeded in catching hold, to apply force to them. In this fashion, too often part of the creature is left in the body, a part, or parts, which must then be removed with a knife or similar tool.
"Bring a torch, here!" I heard a fellow call.
I was again, as was done with me at night, tethered between mooring stakes, my ankles to one, my neck to another. My wrists were held behind me, in the manacles.
"Friend," I said.
"I am not your friend," said he. "I am your enemy." He stood up, discarding the smoking rence.
"Call your officer to me," I said. "I would speak with him."
"That is for your keeper to do," said he, "not me."
"Ho!" called a fellow from a few yards away. "Look!"
"Kill it!" cried a fellow, joyfully.
"Here, help me!" said another. I heard the sounds of two or three men.
"What is it?" I
asked, turning in the sand, looking up.
"It is a marsh turtle, a large one," said the fellow, "come up on the bar."
"Why would it do that?" I asked. "There are men here, many of them."
"Now they have it confused, with fire and spears," reported the man, standing beside me. "It does not know which way to turn"."
"Why is it not retreating to the water?" I asked, alarmed.
"It does not know which way to turn," he said. "They have it surrounded now. It is not moving now, it is in its shell now!"
"Together, men!" I heard.
There was a hissing sound, the grunting of men.
"They have it on its back now," said the fellow, pleased. "For once we shall eat well in the delta."
"Why has it come up on the bar, with men here!" I said. I felt suddenly very helpless in the manacles, the ropes.
"I do not understand," he said.
"Beware!" I said, pulling at the manacles. "Beware!"
"Aiii!" cried a fellow, a few yards away.
"It is gigantic!" cried the fellow near me. I heard a hideous hissing, a thrashing in the sand. Men parted between us and the creature. I struggled up a few inches, turning my head. Moving toward us, dripping, was a gigantic, short-legged, long-bodied tharlarion. Its tail snapped to one side, scattering sand.
"Fire!" I screamed. "Torches!"
The opening of its long, narrow jaws may have been as much as five foot Gorean.
"Torches!" cried the fellow with me.
"It wants the meat," I said. "Drive it away! That is why the turtle came to the bar. It was fleeing!"
The tharlarion looked about, its body lifted off the sand, its tail moving.
A fellow rushed toward it, thrusting a lit torch into the jaws. The beast hissed with fury, drawing back. Then another fellow threatened it with a torch, and then another. The beast lowered its body to the sand and then, pushing back in the sand, backed away.
"More fire!" cried a fellow.
Men rushed forward, with torches, and spears. Suddenly the beast slid back into the water, and, with a snap of its tail, turned and disappeared, beyond the ring of torchlight.
"It is gone," said the fellow near me.
"They fear fire," said a man.
"Keep torches lit," said a fellow.
"Feast!" called a fellow. "Feast!"
"Build up the fire!" called another.
"Slay the turtle!" called another.
"It is done!" said a fellow.
There was much good cheer then in the camp.
I lay neglected in the darkness, naked, in the manacles, between two stakes, helpless.
After a time my keeper, chewing, came near to me. "Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Tomorrow we will close with your fellows," he said. "Tomorrow glorious Ar will have her vengeance."
"I would speak with your officer," I said.
"The rence craft is rotted," he said. "It would not last tomorrow."
I was silent. I wondered if he had ever considered the oddity of the deterioration of the rence, in only days. I supposed not. He was not of the delta. He might think there was nothing unusual about it.
"I have made arrangements for our group to share a three-log raft," he said.
"I am hungry," I said.
"The raft is heavy," he said. "There are two poles only."
"Feed me," I said.
"We will want a draft beast," he said.
"I am hungry," I said.
"We will arrange a harness for you," he said.
"I am hungry," I said.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. I could smell the turtle. I could hear the good humor, the jokes, of the men.
I turned my head away.
"Eat," said he, "spying sleen of Cos."
I regarded him.
"It is food fit for spies," said he, laughing. "Eat," he said.
I opened my mouth and he put one of the leeches into it.
"Eat," he said.
Later he forced another leech into my mouth and waited until I had eaten it. He then took the remaining leeches and, with a shiver of disgust, with two hands, hurled them out from the bar, into the water.
"Sleep well, sleen," said he. He then left.
I lay there for a time, hearing the joviality of the men on the bar. Morale this night was high among them.
I rose up a bit and turned my head, looking toward the water. Some torches were fixed there, at intervals, near the water's edge. Beyond them the marsh was dark. I then lay back, and, after a time, slept.
11 A Victory is Claimed
"So this," said the officer, "is our spy."
He was on a barge, a few feet away. The sun was high overhead. It seemed one could almost see the steam rising from the water. There were almost no shadows from the rence on the water.
I was in the water to my chest, before the raft I drew. I wore a small, improvised yoke, drilled in three places. This was fastened on me by means of three straps, one about each wrist and one about my neck, these straps then being threaded back through the three holes, one behind each wrist and one behind the neck, each then being fastened in its respective place, bound about the wood. This same type of simple yoke, though much lighter, sometimes no more than a narrow board of branch, is sometimes used for female slaves. If the yoke is somewhat stouter and her arms are extended a bucket may be hung on either side of such a yoke. It was good to have my hands in another position. The manacles now, due to frequent exposure and submersion, were muchly rusted. At night, however, I wore them as usual, and in their usual fashion, pinioning my hands behind my back. Sometimes during the day, out of the water, or in shallow water, I was permitted to wear them before my body, usually fastened closely to my belly with a strap. The center of such a strap is tied about the chain of the manacles and the two ends of the strap are joined behind the back. In this way one cannot reach the knot which fastens the strap in place. A similar arrangement is often used with binding fiber and slave bracelets, on women. I now, besides the yoke, wore a harness of straps which fastened me to the raft I drew.
"In the sanguine prosecution of your espionage, sleen," smiled the officer, "I wager you did not expect to find yourself as you are now, at our mercy, serving us, yoked in the delta."
"I would speak with you," I said.
"You look well, in our service, sleen," said he.
"I would speak with you, privately," I said. "It is urgent."
"Such a request is to be forwarded through channels," smiled the officer.
The fellow behind me on the raft, he acting as my keeper, laughed.
"Where is Saphronicus, leader of the forces of Ar in the north?" I challenged.
"In the rear," said the officer.
"Have you reported to him, or to any who have?" I asked. He looked at me, puzzled. "We have our standing orders," he said. "Communication is difficult in the delta."
We, as I understood it, were in the center. There were also on the left and right, the flanks.
"I submit," I said, "that Saphronicus is not in the delta!" He looked at me, angrily.
"Where is the army of Cos?" I demanded.
"Ahead," said the officer. "We are closing."
"I submit-"
"Gag him," said the officer, angrily.
The fellow behind me left the raft, swiftly, plunging into the water. In a moment I felt rags thrust in my mouth, and then tied there, the cloth binding drawn back between my teeth, deeply, then fastened tightly before the yoke, behind my neck.
The officer then turned away.
Scarcely had he done so, however, than shouts were heard from the right, in a moment we heard men crying out that a great victory had been won on the right. There were cheers about. It seemed the delta itself rang with their sound.
"There!" said the officer, turning to me, leaning on the railing of the barge. "There, you see? Victory itself, won with the steel of Ar, has gainsaid your seditious intimation
s!"
The men behind me cheered.
The fellows poling the barge then moved it forward.
I stood in the water, stunned. I could not believe this. I could not understand what had occurred. Could my conjectures, my suppositions, my suspicions, be so profoundly awry?
"Pull!" said my keeper. "Pull!"
One of the two poles used by the fellows on the raft dug into my back forcing me forward.
"Pull!" commanded the keeper.
I then, in consternation, put my weight against the traces and, after a moment, my feet slipping in the mud, felt the raft move forward. I had not struggled forward for more than a few feet when I realized, with a sinking feeling, what must have happened.
12 It is Thought That There are the Cries of Vosk Gulls
"There is one who would see you," said my keeper.
I looked up from the sand, where I lay, gagged, tethered between two stakes, my hands manacled behind my back.
"Clean him up," said a fellow, one I had not seen before. "Brush his hair, wash him, quickly," said another, also a fellow I had not seen before. "Make him presentable."
My ankles were freed. The rope on my neck was removed for the moment it took them to kneel me, and then it was restored, now measured to my kneeling position. Sand and mud were wiped from me. My hands remained manacled behind my back. My hair was brushed.
"Remove his gag," said one of the men. "Leave its materials on the neck-rope, where they may be easily replaced." This was done.
"Do you want a cloth for his loins?" asked my keeper.
"That will not be necessary," said the other man.
"What is going on?" I asked.
"You are to be interrogated," said one of the men.
"Is he securely manacled?" asked a voice. I was startled. So, too, might have been any who heard such, here in the delta. It was a woman's voice!
"That he is, Lady," said one of the two men.
She approached daintily, distastefully, disdainfully, across the wet sand, in her slippers. They were probably quite expensive. I think she did not want to ruin them.