Vagabonds of Gor coc-24

by John Norman

  For several Ehn I was able to keep to the thickest of the rence. In such places, one could see no more than a few feet ahead. Sometimes I heard soldiers about. Twice they passed within feet of me. The raft tangled sometimes in the vegetation. Once I had to draw it over a bar. Once, to my dismay, I had to move the raft through an open expanse of water. Then, to my elation, I was again in the high rence.

  "Hold," said a fellow.

  I stopped.

  I felt the point of a sword in my belly.

  Another fellow was at the side.

  These were of course pickets, pickets of the defense perimeter. It had been in accord with my own recommendation I realized, in fury, that this perimeter had been so promptly set, that it was so carefully manned.

  I heard men wading behind me.

  "Do you have him?" I heard.

  I knew that voice. It was that of my keeper. He was a strong fellow.

  "Yes," said one of my captors, the fellow with the point of the sword in my belly. He pressed the blade forward a little, and I backed against the raft. I was then held against it, the point of the sword lodged in my belly. I could not slip to one side or the other. I was well held in place, for a thrust, if my captor desired. I did not move. "Here he is, waiting for you, yoked and harnessed, and as docile as a slave girl."

  I heard the sound of chain, of manacles.

  "Put iron on his wrists," said my keeper. "No, before his body."

  In this way my back would be exposed.

  One manacle was locked on my right wrist before that wrist was freed of the yoke. Then, as soon as it was free of the yoke, it was pulled to the left, and the other manacle was locked on my left wrist. Only then was I freed of the yoke. My manacled hands were then tied at my belly, the center of the tie fastened to the linkage, the ends of the tie knotted together, behind my back.

  "Has the beast been displeasing?" asked a fellow, solicitously.

  Men laughed.

  My keeper was now behind me, on the raft. Others, too, were there, it seemed, from its depth in the water.

  I heard the snap of a whip.

  "Turn about, draft beast," said my keeper. "We are marching west!"

  My wrists were helpless in the clasping iron.

  "Hurry!" said the keeper.

  I felt the lash crack against my back. Then, again, it struck.

  "Hurry!" he said.

  I turned about and, my feet slipping in the mud, my back burning from the blows, wet with blood, turned the raft. I then began to draw it westward, deeper into the delta.

  "Hurry!" said he, again.

  Again the lash fell.

  Again I pressed forward, straining against the harness, westward.

  14 The Attack

  "You see," said my keeper, thrusting a bit of raw fish in my mouth, "there is no danger."

  My gag was wrapped about the neck rope, it now lengthened from the mooring stake on the bar, to permit me to sit up. My feet were still tethered closely, in the usual fashion, to another mooring stake. My hands were now manacled behind my back. Again I did not know who held the key to my manacles. It changed hands, as a security measure, from day to day.

  "Listen for the rocks, under the water," I said to him.

  "You are mad," he said.

  "Did you convey my warnings to your captain?" I asked.

  "A watch is being kept," he said, "foolish though it may be."

  On the bar there were perhaps some five hundred men.

  "Eat," said my keeper. "Swallow."

  I fed. I was eager to get what food I could. I think there was little enough for anyone. Ar had brought, by most reckonings, some fifty thousand men into the delta. This had been done without adequate logistical support.

  "That is all," said he.

  I looked at him, startled.

  "No more," he said.

  "You are a hardy chap," said the officer, looking down at me. "I had thought you might have died in the marsh today." It had been hot. The raft had been heavy, many men using it. The keeper had not been sparing with his whip. "Yet it seems you are alive, and have an appetite." Then he said to my keeper. "Do not gag him yet. Withdraw."

  As soon as the keeper had moved away a few yards the officer crouched down beside me, and looked at me, intently. I had not seen him approach, earlier.

  "You have men listening?" I asked. "Yes," he said.

  "You think the thought absurd?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "But you have them listening?"

  "Yes," he said.

  "It seems now," I said, "that it is you who would wish to speak with me."

  "You attempted to escape today," he said.

  I did not respond to this.

  "It is fortunate that you are not a slave girl," he said.

  I shrugged. That was doubtless true. On Gor there is a double standard for the treatment of men and women, and in particular for the female slave. This is because women are not the same as men. That women are the same as men, and should be treated as such would be regarded by Goreans as an insanity, and one which would be cruelly deprivational to the female, robbing her of her uniqueness, her delicious specialness, in a sense of her very self. To be sure, it was indeed fortunate in this instance that I was not a slave girl. Gorean masters tend not to look with tolerance upon escape attempts on the part of such. They do not accept them.

  "You understand the point of your gagging?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said, "that I not instigate questioning, that I not sow dissension, that I not produce discontent, confusion, among the men, that I not reduce, in one way or another, morale, such things."

  He looked down at the ground.

  "Do you fear for yourself, that you might begin to reflect critically on the occurrences of recent days?" I asked.

  "State your views," he said.

  "You seem to me an intelligent officer," I said. "Surely you have arrived at them independently by now."

  "Speak," he said.

  "I do not think it matters now," I said. "You are already deep in the delta."

  He regarded me, soberly.

  "Ar," I said, "if you wish to know my opinions on the matter, has been betrayed, in the matter of Ar's Station, in the matter of the disposition of her northern forces, and, now, in her entry, unprepared, into the delta. You were not prepared to enter the delta. You lack supplies and support. By now what supply lines you may have had have probably been cut, or soon will be, by rencers. You do not have tarn cover, or tam scouts. Indeed, you do not even have rencer guides or scouts. Obviously, too, you have not been unaware of the deterioration of your transport in the delta. Do you truly think it is a simple anomaly that so many vessels, flotillas of tight craft, on such short notice, could be obtained in Ven and Turmus? Was that merely unaccountable good fortune? And now do you think it is merely unaccountable ill fortune that these same vessels, in a matter of days, sink, and split and settle beneath you?"

  He regarded me, angrily.

  "They were prepared for you," I said. "No," he said.

  "Withdraw from the delta, while you can," I said.

  "You are afraid to be here," he said.

  "Yes," I said, "I am."

  "We have all become afraid," he said.

  "Withdraw," I said.

  "No," he said.

  "Do you fear court-martial?" I asked. "Do you fear the loss of your commission, disgrace?"

  "Such things would doubtless occur," said he, "if I issued the order for retreat."

  "Especially if it were done singly," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "And there is no clear unified command in the delta," I said.

  "No," he said.

  "That, too, perhaps seems surprising," I observed.

  "Communication is difficult," he said. "The columns are separated."

  "And that, you think," I asked, "is the reason?"

  "It has to be," he said.

  "If you were Saphronicus," I said, "what would you do?"

&n
bsp; "I would have a unified command," he said. "I would go to great lengths to maintain lines of communication, particularly under the conditions of the delta."

  "And so, too, I said, "would any competent commander." "You challenge the competence of Saphronicus?" he asked. "No," I said. "I think he is a very able commander."

  "I do not understand," he said.

  "Surely it is clear," I said.

  "You do not think Saphronicus is in the delta," he said.

  "No," I said. "He is not in the delta."

  "You could have learned that only from a spy," he said.

  "True," I said. "I had it from a spy."

  "You, too, then," said he, "are, as charged, an agent of Cos."

  "No," I said.

  "Where lies your allegiance?" asked he.

  "I am of Port Kar," I said.

  "There is no love lost between Ar and Port Kar," he said.

  "We are at least at war with Cos," I said.

  "We will continue to move westward," he said.

  "It is a mistake," I said.

  "Our orders are clear," he said.

  "What of the rencers?" I asked.

  "I do not understand their apparent numbers," he said. "A village was destroyed, only a village."

  "They have apparently been gathered for some time," I said.

  "But why?" he asked.

  "You are in their country," I reminded him.

  "But surely they understand we seek only to close with Cos."

  "As I indicated earlier," I said, "they will find that very difficult to believe."

  "Why?" he asked.

  "Do you really not suspect?" I asked.

  "Why?" he asked.

  "Cos," I said, "is not in the delta."

  "Impossible!" he said.

  "Perhaps there are some Cosians in the delta," I granted him. "I do not know. Perhaps enough to leave sign, enough to lure Ar further westward. It is a possibility."

  He regarded me.

  "But have you," I asked, "who are the commander of the vanguard, you who are in the very best position to do so, detected any clear evidence as yet of even so minimal a presence?"

  "There has been broken rence," he said.

  "Tharlarion can break rence," I said.

  "The expeditionary force of Cos," he said, "entered the delta. We know that."

  "I do not doubt it," I said. Ar, too, of course, would have her sources of information, her spies. Her gold could purchase information as well as that of Cos. "What I do suggest is that the columns of Cos did not remain in the delta, but, after perhaps a day or two, after having clearly established their entry below Turmus, withdrew."

  "Absurd," he said.

  "Do you really think Cos would choose to meet you in the delta?"

  "They fled before us, in fear of their lives," said he, angrily.

  "I was with the expeditionary force," I said, "for several days, until north of Holmesk. I assure you their march was leisurely."

  "Then you are Cosian," he said.

  "I was there with a friend," I said, "one who was seeking to be of service to Ar."

  "The Cosians must meet us," he said, angrily.

  "They will meet you," I assured him, "but when they wish."

  "I do not understand," he said.

  "They will meet you when you attempt to extricate yourself from the delta," I said.

  "They are ahead of us," he said. "No," I said.

  "Lies!" said he.

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "Would that we might meet Cos soon!" he said.

  "In a sense," I said, "you have already met her." "I do not understand," he said.

  "The delta itself is her weapon," I said, "and the rencers."

  The captain stood up. He looked down at me. "Your supposed conjectures," he said, "are the vain lies of a squirming spy, attempting to divert from himself the legitimate wrath of outraged captors. Your supposed speculations, moreover, are absurd. Perhaps if you had given them more thought, you might have come up with something more plausible. Too, I find your impugning the integrity and honor of Saphronicus, general in the north, to be odious and offensive. Your insinuations, moreover, on the whole, are presposterous.

  If true, they would suggest treason of almost incomprehensible dimension."

  "There is treason, in high places, in Ar." I said.

  "To what end?" he asked.

  "To political realignments," I said, "to the supremacy of Cos."

  "And Saphronicus is involved?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said. I did not wish to speak beyond this. There was one whose name I sought to protect.

  "Absurd," said he. He lifted his hand, summoning my keeper. "Replace his gag," he said.

  The keeper removed the wadding and binding from my neck rope.

  "Captain," said a fellow, approaching. "We hear something now, a sound from beneath the water."

  "Its nature?" asked the officer.

  "It is hard to tell," said the fellow. "It is like a clicking, a cracking."

  "It is done with rocks!" I said.

  The officer looked at me, sharply. "It is what I said!" I said.

  The informant looked at me, puzzled.

  "Is it far off?" I asked.

  "It is hard to tell," said the man. "I think so." "Is it rhythmical?" I asked.

  "It is regular," said the man.

  "Bring in your defense perimeter," I said to the officer.

  "You jest," he said.

  "Rencers sometimes use such rocks," I said, "struck beneath the surface of the water, the sound detectable by holding the side of the head under water. They can be used to convey signals, to communicate. I do not know their codes."

  "We are speaking of simple fishermen," said the officer, "of hunters of birds, of harvesters of rence."

  "But the striking is now rhythmical," I said. "It is not now being used to communicate!"

  "We have not been troubled with rencers in several Ahn," said the officer. "I think that danger is passed. Indeed, I regard it as quite possible, given the rapidity of our march, that we have passed beyond them. They have perhaps now disbanded, returned to their villages. Surely, by now, they understand we mean them no harm."

  "The sounds will now be closer," I said.

  "I grant you that they may have observers in the marsh," he said.

  "The sounds are regular," I said. "They are not now being used to communicate. They are being used otherwise, to irritate, to drive."

  "But nothing can hear them, or feel them," said a man. "They are under water."

  "They will be on all sides of the bar," I said. "They are coming closer, they will grow louder."

  "They are under water," said the man.

  "Bring in your pickets!" I said.

  "The spy wishes us to bring in our pickets," said my keeper, to another fellow.

  "We are not fools," said a man.

  "Are your friends out there?" asked a fellow.

  "Or lose them!" I said.

  "What of the rencers?" asked the officer.

  There was a sudden thrashing out in the water, some yards away.

  "What was that?" asked a man.

  "Two tharlarion," said a fellow.

  "It is nothing," said another.

  "Surely you know the hunting of larls, the beating of game," I said.

  "Surely," said a man.

  "The ring can be pasangs in width," said a man.

  "So, too, it is here!" I said.

  In such drives, the ring growing smaller and smaller, hundreds of animals can be brought together at a given point. Peasants from different villages sometimes combine forces to engage in this form of hunting. Sometimes, too, animals desired for the arena are hunted in this fashion, usually to be driven, at last, by fire and spears into nets or cages.

  "And that is why," I said to the officer, "you do not need to fear rencers now. They are not so stupid as to be within the ring. It is not rencers who are within the ring, it is we who are within the ring! They will come l
ater. Then you will fear them and well!"

  "Aii!" cried a man, wading onto the bar, wildly.

  "It is one of the pickets!" said a fellow.

  To his right, a few feet away, not following him, there suddenly emerged a long-necked tharlarion from the marsh, half out of the water. To the man's left, not following him either, as far as I could tell, there suddenly emerged a short-legged, long-bodied tharlarion. We could see the irregular backs of other beasts here and there breaking the water.