by John Norman
The officer came away from the window, angrily, and looked down at the benches. Several of them had the varnish worn from them. The barge, in its day, I suspected, had frequently plied the delta, probably between Port Kar, and other cities, and Turmus and Ven. Slave girls are normally transported nude.
"And so," said the officer, angrily, "we have spent days pursuing a slave barge."
"It seems so," I said.
"The Cosians, then," he said, "must still be in front of us.
I was silent. This did not seem to me likely, or at least not in numbers.
At this moment we heard some shouting outside, some cries.
The officer looked up, puzzled, and then, paying me no mind, went up the stairs to the stern deck.
I followed him.
"We seldom saw them!" cried a fellow. "It was as though the rence were alive!"
I emerged onto the stern deck, blinking against the sun, where my keeper, who was waiting for me, unlooping the rope leash from the yoke, and, keeping me on a short tether, about a foot Gorean in length, the remaining portion of the leash coiled in his hand, recovered my charge.
"We had no chance," wept a fellow from the water. "We did not even see them!"
"Where?" demanded the officer, at the barge rail.
"On the right!" called up a fellow.
Following my keeper, who, too, was curious, I went to the rail. In the water, below, with the many others who had originally surrounded and charged the barge, were some six or seven other fellows, distraught, haggard, wild-eyed, some bleeding, some supporting their fellows.
"Numbers?" inquired the officer.
"There must have been hundreds of them, for pasangs," said a fellow from below, in the water.
"We could not fight," said another. "We could not find them. There seemed little, if anything, to draw against!"
"Only a shadow," wept a man, "a movement in the rence, a suspicion, and then the arrows, and the arrows!"
"What were the casualties?" asked the officer.
"It was a rout, a slaughter!" cried a fellow.
"What is your estimate of the casualties?" repeated the officer, insistently.
"The right flank is gone!" wept a man.
"Gone!" cried another.
I could see other fellows making their way towards us, through the rence, some dozens, more survivors, many wounded.
I did not personally think the right flank was gone, but I gathered it had grievously suffered, that it had undergone severe losses, that it was routed, that it was decimated. These fellows near us, for example, were from the right flank. They had not been able, it seemed, to rally, or reform. When one has been in a disastrous action, particularly a mysterious one which has not been anticipated, one which one does not fully understand, there is a tendency of the survivors to overestimate casualties. A fellow, for example, who has seen several fall near him, in his own tiny place of war, often as narrow as a few yards in width, has a tendency to suppose these losses are typical of the entire field, that they characterize the day itself. Similarly, of course, there are occasions in which a fellow, victorious in his purview, learns only later, and to his dismay, that his side is in retreat, that the battle, as a whole, was lost. Still, I did not doubt but what the losses were considerable. The entire right flank might have to be reorganized.
"We will counterattack," said the officer.
"Your foe will not be there," I said.
"This is a tragic day for Ar," said a fellow.
More soldiers were wading, some staggering, toward us, these come from the right.
"The first engagement to Cos," said a fellow bitterly.
"Who would have thought this could happen?" said a man.
"Vengeance upon the Cosian sleen!" cried a man.
"The missiles used against you were not quarrels, not bolts," I said.
"No," said a fellow, "arrows."
"Arrows," said I, "sped from the peasant bow." In the last few years, the use of the peasant bow, beginning in the vicinity of the tidal marshes, had spread rapidly eastward throughout the delta. The materials for the weapon and its missiles, not native to the delta, are acquired largely through trade. Long ago the rencers had learned its power. They had never forgotten it. By means of it they had become formidable foes. The combination of the delta, with its natural defenses, and the peasant bow, made the rencers all but invulnerable.
The officer looked at me.
"You are not dealing with Cosians," I said. "You are dealing with rencers."
"People of scaling knives, of throwing sticks, and fish spears!" laughed a fellow.
"And of the peasant bow," I said.
"Surely you jest?" said the officer.
"Did you hear, before the attack," I asked, "the cries of marsh gants?"
"Yes," said one of the fellows in the water.
"It is by means of such cries that rencers communicate during the day," I said. "At night they use the cries of Vosk gulls."
"We will counterattack," said the officer.
"You will not find them," I said.
"We will send out scouts," he said.
"They would not return," I said. To be sure, it was possible to scout rencers, but normally this could be done only by individuals wise to the ways of the delta, in most cases other rencers. The forces of Ar in the delta, if I were not mistaken, would not have experienced scouts with them. Even so small a thing as this constituted yet another indication of the precipitateness of Ar, her unreadiness to enter the delta.
"We must not allow them to press their advantage," said the officer.
Men were still streaming in from the right.
"They will not press their advantage-as yet," I said.
" 'As yet'?" he asked.
"It is a different form of warfare," I said.
"It is not warfare," said a man. "It is brigandage, it is ambush and banditry!"
"I would not pursue them," I said. "They will melt away before you, perhaps to close on your flanks."
"What is your recommendation?" he asked.
"I would set up defense perimeters," I said.
"Labienus is in command," said a fellow, angrily. 'Labienus' was the name of the officer.
"Do not listen to him," said another. "Surely he is in sympathy with them."
"He may be one of them!" said another.
"He is an enemy!" said another.
"Kill him!" said another.
"You anticipate another attack?" asked the officer.
"Perimeters against infiltration," I said. "Preferably with open expanses of delta. Beware of straws, or rence, which seem to move in the water."
"You do not anticipate another attack?" asked the officer.
"The element of surprise gone," I said, "I would not anticipate another attack, not now, at least, not of a nature similar to that which has apparently just occurred."
You speak of simple rencers as though they were trained warriors, of ruses, of strategems and tactics which might be the mark of a Maximus Hegesius Quintilius, of a Dietrich of Tarnburg."
"Or of a Ho-Hak, or a Tamrun, of the Rence," I said.
"I have not heard of such fellows," said a man.
"And many in the rence," I said, "may never have heard of a Marlenus of Ar."
There were angry cries from the men about.
"You are now, unbidden, in their country," I said.
"Rencers!" scoffed a man.
"Wielders of the great bow, the peasant bow," I reminded him.
"Rabble!" said a man.
"Apparently your right flank did not find them such," I said.
"Set up defense perimeters," said the officer.
Subalterns, angrily, signaled to their men.
"With such perimeters set," I said, "I think the rencers will keep their distance-until dark."
"They will never dare to attack Ar again," said a fellow.
"It is shameful to be bested by rencers," said a man.
"They may have been Cosians,
" said a fellow.
"Or under Cosian command," said another.
"I do not think so," I said, "though I would suppose the Cosians have many friends, and many contacts, in the delta. They have, for years, cultivated those in the delta. I would not doubt but what agents, in the guise of traders, and such, have well prepared the rencers for your visit. You may well imagine what they may have been told."
Men looked at one another.
"I think there is little doubt that those of Cos are more politically astute than those of Ar," I said. An excellent example of this was Cos' backing of Port Cos' entry into the Vosk League, presumably hoping thereby to influence or control the league through the policies of her sovereign colony, while Ar refused this same opportunity to Ar's Station, thereby more than ever isolating Ar's Station on the river. "Cos comes to the delta with smiles and sweets, as an ally and friend. Ar comes as an uninvited trespasser, as though she would be an invading conqueror."
"The rencers have attacked us," said a man. "They must be punished!"
"It is you who are being punished," I said.
" 'We'?" said the fellow.
"Yes," I said. "Did you not, only yesterday, destroy a rence village?"
There was silence.
"Was that not the "great victory"?" I asked.
"How could rencers retaliate so quickly?" asked the officer. "The reports suggest there were hundreds of them."
"There may have been hundreds," I said. "I suspect they have been gathered for days."
"Surely they know we only seek to close with those of Cos, with their force in the north," said a fellow.
"I think they would find that very hard to believe," I said.
"Why?" asked a man. I looked at the officer.
"No," said the officer, angrily. "That is impossible."
"We have no quarrel with rencers," said a man. "We do now," said another, bitterly. "Why did they not show themselves?" asked a man. "We did not even see them," said a man.
"Perhaps they struck and fled, like the brigands they are," said a man.
"Perhaps," said another fellow.
"No," I said. "They are still in the vicinity, somewhere."
"The delta is so huge," said a fellow beside us, on the deck, looking out.
"It is so vast, so green, so much the same, yet everywhere different," said another. "It frightens me."
"We need scouts," said another.
"We need eyes," said another.
"Look!" cried a fellow, pointing upward.
"There are our eyes!" said the fellow who had spoken before.
There was a cheer from the hundreds of men about. A tarnsman, several hundred feet above us, coming from the south, wheeled in flight. Even at the distance we could make out the scarlet of his uniform.
"He is bringing the bird around," said a man.
"He will land," said another.
Several of the fellows lifted their hands to the figure on tarnback who was now coming about.
The lookout on the observation platform behind us, on that barge which served the officer as his command ship, began, with both hands, to call the tarnsman down.
I watched the pattern in the sky. I was uneasy. There was a smoothness in it, the turning, and now, as I had feared, the wings of the tarn were outspread.
"He is arming!" I said. "Beware!"
I watched the smooth, gliding descent of the bird, the sloping pattern, the creature seemingly almost motionless in the air, but seeming to grow larger every instant. The tarn's claws were up, back, beneath its body. "Beware!" I cried. "It is not landing!" Men looked upward, puzzled. "Beware!" I cried. "It is an attack pattern!" Could they not see that? Did they not understand what was happening? Could they not understand the rationale of that steadiness, the menace of the motionlessness of those great wings? Could they not see that what was approaching was in effect a smoothly gliding, incredibly stable, soaring firing platform? "Take cover!" I cried. The fellow on the observation platform, on the barge, watching the approach of the bird and rider, lowered his arms, puzzled. "Take cover!" I cried. One could scarcely see the flight of the quarrel. It was like a whisper of light, terribly quick, little more than something you are not sure you have really seen, then the bird had snapped its wings and was ascending. It then, in a time, disappeared, south.
"He is dead," said a fellow from the deck of the captain's barge, where the lookout had fallen, the fins of a quarrel protruding from his breast. It had not been a difficult shot, it might have been a stationary target, a practice run on the training range.
"Those are not your eyes," I said to a fellow looking up at me. "Those are the eyes of Cos." The tam had returned southward. That was as I would have expected.
Men stood about, numb.
"Where are our tarnsmen?" asked a fellow.
"Cos controls the skies," I said. "You are alone in the delta.
"Kill him," said a man.
"Surely," I said, "you do not think the paucity of your tarn support in an area such as this, and even hitherto in the north, in the vicinity of Holmesk, is an accident?"
"Kill him!" said another.
"Kill him!" said yet another.
"What shall we do, Captain?" asked a man.
"We have our orders," said the officer. "We shall proceed west."
"Surely, Captain," said a man, "we must daily, to punish the rencers!"
"Then Cos would escape!" said a fellow.
"Our priority," said a man, "is not rencers. It is Cosians."
"True," affirmed a man.
"And we must be now close upon their heels," said a man.
"Yes!" said another.
"I would recommend the swiftest possible withdrawal from the delta," I said.
"Excellent advice, from a spy!" laughed a fellow.
"Yes," laughed another, "now that we are nearly upon our quarry!"
"It is you who are the quarry," I said.
"Cosian sleen," said another.
"We shall continue west," said the officer.
"To be sure," I said, bitterly, "you will encounter the least resistance from the rencers to such a march, for it takes you deeper into the delta, and puts you all the more at their mercy."
"Prepare to march," said the officer to a subordinate.
"The rencers are not done with you," I said.
"We do not fear rencers," said a man.
"They will hang on your flanks like sleen," I said. "They will press you in upon yourselves. They will crowd you. They will herd you. Then when you are in close quarters, when you are huddled together, when you are weak, exhausted and helpless, they will rain arrows upon you. If you break and scatter they will hunt you down, one by one, in the marsh. Perhaps if some of you strip yourselves and raise your arms you might be spared, to be put in chains, to be taken, beaten, to trading points, thence to be sold as slaves, thence to be chained to benches, rowing the round ships of Cos."
"Sleen!" hissed a man.
"To be sure," I said, "perhaps some will serve in the quarries of Tyros."
"Kill him!" cried a fellow.
"You must withdraw from the delta, in force, immediately," I said.
"There are many columns in the delta," said the officer.
"This column," I said, "is in your keeping."
"We have our orders," he said.
"I urge you to withdraw," I said.
"We have no orders to that effect," he said.
"Seek them!" I urged.
"The columns are independent," he said.
"Do you think it an accident that you are in this place without a centralized chain of command?" I asked.
He looked at me, angrily.
"Ar does not retreat," said a fellow.
"You are in command," I said to the officer. "Make your decision."
"We did not come to the delta to return without Cosian blood on our blades!" said a fellow.
"Make your decision!" I said.
"I have," he said. "We continue west."
There was a cheer from the men about.
"Saphronicus is not even in the delta!" I said.
"If that were true," said the officer, "it could be known only by a spy."
"And I had it from a spy!" I said.
"Then you, too, are a spy," said a fellow.
"Spy!" said another.
"Gag him," said the officer.
I was again gagged. This was done by my keeper.
"Let me kill him," said a man, his knife drawn, but the officer had turned away, consulting with his fellows.
"He tried to warn Aurelian of the tarnsman," said a man.
"He feared only for his own skin," said my keeper.
"And let him fear even more, now," said the other fellow. I felt the point of the knife in my belly, low on the left side. Its blade was up. It could be thrust in, and drawn across, in one motion, a disemboweling stroke.
I stood very still.
Angrily the fellow with the knife drew it back, and sheathed it. "Cosian sleen," he said. He then, with others, turned away.
My keeper then, pushing on the back of the yoke, thrust me over the rail of the barge, and I fell heavily, yoked, into the water and mud. I struggled to my feet, slipping in the mud. I tried to clear my eyes of water. "Precede me," he said. In a moment I was stumbling forward, before him, returning to the raft, the rope on my neck over the yoke, running behind me, to his grasp. I shook my head, wanting to get the water out of my eyes. I felt rage, and helplessness. I wanted to scream against the gag. The men of Ar, I thought, wildly, are mad! Do they not understand what has been done to them! I wanted to cry out to them, to shout at them, to tell them, to warn them! But the gag in my mouth was a Gorean gag. I could do little more in it then whimper, one whimper for "Yes," two for "No," in the common convention for communicating with a gagged prisoner, the verbal initiatives, the questions, and such, allotted not to the prisoner but to the interests or caprices of the captors. But then I thought they would not listen to me even if I could speak to them. They had not listened before. They would not now! I must escape from them, I thought. I must escape! Somehow I must avoid the fate into which they seemed bound to fall. I had no interest in sharing their stupidity, their obstinacy, their doom. I must escape! I must escape! We were then at the raft. It was where it had been left, where it had been thrust up, on a small bar, that it might not drift away when we went forward. He bent down. He picked up the harness attached to the raft. I tensed. I saw a fellow, wading by. "Face away from me," said my keeper. I faced away. Another fellow waded by. "Stand still, draft beast," said my keeper. Another fellow moved by. I stood still. "Do not move," he said. Another man was approaching. I did not move. The harness was fitted about me. The fellow waded by. Angrily I felt the harness buckled on me. I did not know how long the rencers would give them, perhaps until dark. Already the stones might be striking together beneath the water. It seemed then for a moment that we were alone, that none were immediately with us. I spun about, in the rence. His eyes were wild for one instant, and then the yoke struck him heavily, on the side of the head. Surely some must have heard the sound of that blow! Yet none seemed about. None rushed forward. I looked down at the keeper. He was now lying on the bar. He had fallen with no sound. I drew the raft off the bar, into the water. If I could get beyond the men of Ar I was sure I could break the yoke to pieces, splintering it on the togs of the raft, thus freeing my hands, then in a moment discarding the harness and slipping away. I moved away, drawing the raft after me.