by John Norman
"We were both tricked," said Bila Huruma.
"You do not seem bitter," I said.
"I am not," he said.
"We may burn the maps and notebooks," I said.
"Of course," he said.
"I cannot do so," I said.
"Nor I," smiled the Ubar. "We shall take them back to Ushindi, and you may then, with a suitable escort, convey them down the Nyoka to Schendi. Ramani of Anango, who was the teacher of Shaba, awaits them there."
"Shaba planned well," I said.
"I shall miss him sorely," said Bila Huruma.
"He was a thief and a traitor," I said.
"He was true to his caste," said Bila Huruma.
"A thief and a traitor," I said, angrily.
Bila Huruma turned away and looked back at the ruins of the huge building, at the great stone statues, worn and covered with vines, and at the city, lost and forgotten, lying to the east.
"There was once a great empire here," he said. "It is gone now. We do not even know who raised and aligned these stones, forming walls and temples, and laying out gardens and broad avenues. We do not even know the name of this empire or what the people may have called themselves. We know only that they built these things and, for a time, lived among them. Empires flourish and then, it seems, they perish. Yet men must make them."
"Or destroy them," I said.
"Yes," said Bila Huruma, looking down then at the galleys and canoes. Kisu was there, waiting for us. "Yes," he said, "some men make empires, and others would destroy them."
"Which is the noblest?" I asked.
"I think," said Bila Huruma, "it is better to build than it is to destroy."
"Even though one's work may fall into ruin?" I inquired.
"Yes," said Bila Huruma. "Even though one's work may fall into ruin."
"Do you know," I asked, "what I, and Msaliti, sought from Shaba?"
"Of course," he said. "Shaba, before he died, told me all."
"It was not rightfully his," I said. "He was a thief and a traitor."
"He was true to his caste," said Bila Huruma.
I turned away from the Ubar, and began to descend the steps to the waiting vessels.
"Wait," said Bila Huruma.
I turned to face him, and he descended the stairs until he reached where I stood.
"Shaba," he said, "asked me to give this to you. It was concealed upon his person." He pressed into my hand a large ring, one too large for a human finger. It was golden, with a silver plate. On the outside of the ring, opposite the bezel, was a circular, recessed switch. On the ring itself there was a tiny, unmistakable scratch.
My hand trembled.
"Shaba," said Bila Huruma, "asked me to extend to you his thanks and apologies. He had need of the ring, you see. On the Ua, as you might expect, he found it of great utility."
"His thanks?" I asked. "His apologies?"
"He took the ring on loan, so to speak," said Bila Huruma. "He borrowed it. He hoped you would not mind."
I could not speak.
"It was his intention to return it himself," said Bila Huruma, "but the attack of the beasts, so sudden and unexpected, intervened."
I closed my hand on the ring. "Do you know what you are giving me?" I asked.
"A ring of great power," said Bila Huruma, "one which can cast upon its wearer a mantle of invisibility."
"With such a ring," I said, "you could be invincible."
"Perhaps," smiled Bila Huruma.
"Why do you give it to me?" I asked.
"It was the wish of Shaba," said Bila Huruma.
"I had scarcely known such friendship could exist," I said.
"I am a Ubar," said Bila Huruma. "In my life I have had only two friends. Now both are gone."
"Shaba was one," I said.
"Of course," said Bila Huruma.
"Who was the other?" I asked.
"The other I had killed," he said.
"What was his name?" I asked.
"Msaliti," he said.
55
The Explosion;
We Leave the Ancient City
"Let us leave," called Kisu.
The Ubar and I descended the steps together, that we might make our departure from the landing, from the eastern shore of Lake Shaba.
It was then that the explosion occurred. It took place several pasangs away. There was a blast of light. A great towering blade of fire stormed upward against the tropical sky. There was a vast, spreading billowing cloud of dust and leaves. The earth shook, the waters of Lake Shaba roiled. Men cried out and girls screamed. We felt a shock wave of great heat and saw trees falling. There was a rain of rocks, branches and debris.
And then it was quiet, save for the water lapping against the landing and the sides of the wooden vessels. To the southwest there was a darkness in the sky. In places the tops of standing trees still burned. Then the fires, no longer sustained by the heat of the blast, one by one vanished, unable to overcome the living freshness of the wood.
"What was that?" asked Kisu.
"It is called an explosion," I said.
"What is its meaning?" asked Bila Huruma.
"It means, I think," I said, "that it is now safe to descend the river."
I smiled to myself. The false ring would never be delivered to the Sardar.
"Let us proceed," said Bila Huruma.
"Cast off the lines," I called to the men.
Soon the four galleys and the canoes, including our raiders' canoe, were upon the lake.
I tied the Tahari ring about my neck, where it hung, with the golden chain of Bila Huruma, on my chest. Near me in the canoe, wrapped in waterproof, oiled skins, and tied to a floatable frame, were the map case and notebooks of Shaba.
I looked back once at the city, and once at the darkness in the sky to the southwest.
I then lowered my paddle and thrust back against the waters of the lake.
56
What Occurred in Nyundo, the Central Village of the Ukungu Region
"Where is Aibu?" cried Kisu.
We stood in the clearing of Nyundo, the central village of the Ukungu region.
Mwoga, spear in hand, a shield on his arm, came out to greet us. "He is dead," said Mwoga.
Tende, behind Kisu, cried out with misery.
"How did he die?" asked Kisu.
"By poison," said Mwoga. "I, now, am chieftain in Ukungu."
"My spear says it is not true," said Kisu.
"My spear," said Mwoga, "says that it is true."
"We shall, then, let them decide," said Kisu.
Small leather strips customarily sheath the blades of the spears of Ukungu. Both Mwoga and Kisu had now removed these tiny strips from their weapons. The edges of the blades gleamed. Each man carried, too, a shield. On the Ukungu shield there is, commonly, a tuft of feathers. This is fastened at one of the points of the shield. When the tuft of feathers is at the bottom of the shield, the shield being so held, this is an indication that the hunter seeks an animal. When the tuft of feathers is at the top of the shield, the shield so held, it is an indication that the quarry is human. On both the shield of Kisu and Mwoga the tufts were now at the top.
"I would make a better Mfalme than Aibu," said Mwoga. "It was thus that I had him killed."
The fight was brief, and then Kisu withdrew the bloodied point of his weapon from the chest of Mwoga, who lay at his feet.
"You fight well," said Bila Huruma. "Will you now see to the slaughter of those who supported Mwoga?"
"No," said Kisu. "My quarrel is not with them. They are my fellow tribesmen. They may remain in peace in the villages of Ukungu."
"Once, Kisu," said Bila Huruma, "you were little more than a kailiauk, with the obstinacy and crudity of the kailiauk's power, quick to anger, thoughtless in your charges. Now I see that you have learned something of the wisdom of one worthy to be a Mfalme."
Kisu shrugged.
"Proceed with us further to Ushindi," said Bila Huruma. "Msaliti is gone
. I shall have need of one to be second in my empire."
"Better to be first in Ukungu," said Kisu, "than second in the empire."
"You are first in Ukungu," said Bila Huruma, naming Kisu to power.
"I shall fight you from Ukungu," said Kisu.
"Why?" asked Bila Huruma.
"I will have Ukungu free," said Kisu.
Bila Huruma smiled. "Ukungu," he said, "is free."
Men cried out in astonishment.
"Clean now the blade of your spear, Kisu," said Bila Huruma. "Put once more upon it the sheathing strips of guarding leather. Turn your shield so that the feathers lie again at its base."
"I will clean and sheath my spear," said Kisu. "I will turn my shield."
Kisu handed his weapons to one of the villagers. He and Bila Huruma embraced.
It was thus that peace came to Ukungu and the empire.
57
I Board Again the Palms of Schendi;
I will Take Ship for Port Kar
"It is not necessary to chain me like this, Master," said Janice.
She knelt on the hot boards of the wharf at Schendi. Her ankles were shackled, and her small wrists locked behind her in slave bracelets. A tight belly chain, locked on her, running to a heavy ring in the wood, about a foot from her, secured her in place. She was stripped. On her throat, locked, was a steel collar. It read 'I am owned by Bosk of Port Kar'. That is a name by which I am known in many parts of Gor. It has its own history.
"Before," said Janice, looking up at me, in my collar, "when I might have fled, and did, in Port Kar, I was not even secured. Now, when I know what I do, what it is to be a slave girl on Gor, and would be terrified to so much as move from this place without permission, I am heavily chained."
"It is common to secure female cargo before loading," I said. "It should have been done before."
"Yes, Master," she said.
I looked down at her. "Even if you were not chained, and wished to escape," I said, "I do not think such a venture would now be practical."
"No, Master," she said. "I am now branded. I am now collared."
"Greetings," said Captain Ulafi to me.
"Greetings," said I to him.
"Is this the little troublemaker?" he asked, looking down at Janice.
"I do not think she will cause you trouble now," I said.
Janice put her head down to the boards of the wharf. "Forgive me, Master," she said, "if I once displeased you."
"Lift your head," said Ulafi.
Janice looked up at him.
"How beautiful she has become," said Ulafi. "It is difficult to believe that she is the same girl." He regarded her. "She has become a sensuous dream," he said.
"She is a slave," I said. I shrugged.
"What fools men are to let any woman be free," he said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"You wish to take passage again on the Palms of Schendi," he asked, "for return to Port Kar?"
"With your permission, Captain," I said.
"The arrangements have been made," he said. I pressed into his hands the coins on which we had agreed.
"We sail shortly," he said, "with the tide."
When I had returned to Schendi I had borne with me notes from the court of Bila Huruma. The moneys which I had lost when apprehended in Schendi, for seizure and transportation to the canal, had been returned to me. I had obtained again, too, my sea bag and its enclosed articles. I had received these back from the woman who had rented me the room off the Street of Tapestries. The sea bag lay at my feet. In it, with my other things, was a chain of gold, which I had received, long ago, from Bila Huruma. It had shared much of my equatorial odyssey. About my neck, on a leather string, inside my tunic, I wore the Tahari ring.
I thought of Bila Huruma, and the loneliness of the Ubar. I thought of Shaba, and his voyages of exploration, the circumnavigation of Lake Ushindi, the discovery and circumnavigation of Lake Ngao, and the discovery and exploration of the Ua, even to the discovery of its source in the placid waters of that vast lake he had called Lake Bila Huruma. But by the wish of Bila Huruma I had changed its name to Lake Shaba. He was surely one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of the explorers of Gor. I did not think his name would be forgotten.
"I am grateful," had said Ramani of Anango, who had once been the teacher of Shaba. I had delivered to him, and to two others of his caste, the maps and notebooks of Shaba. Ramani and his fellows had wept. I had then left them, returning to my lodgings. Copies would be made of the maps and notebooks. They would then be distributed by caste brothers throughout the cities of civilized Gor. The first copies that were made by anyone had already, however, been made, by the scribes of Bila Huruma in Ushindi. Ramani need not know this.
"Will you continue work on the canal?" I had asked Bila Huruma.
"Yes," he had said.
When Lakes Ushindi and Ngao had been joined by the canal a continuous waterway would be opened between Thassa and the Ua. One might then, via either the Kamba or the Nyoka, attain Lake Ushindi. One might then follow the canal from Ushindi to Ngao. From Ngao one could enter upon the Ua. One could then, for thousands of pasangs, follow the Ua until one reached its terminus in Lake Shaba. And Lake Shaba itself was fed by numerous smaller streams and rivers, each giving promise, like the tributaries of the Ua itself, to the latency of new countries. The importance of the work of Bila Huruma and Shaba, one a Ubar, the other a scribe and explorer, could not, in my opinion, be overestimated.
I thought of small Ayari, with whom I had shared the rogues' chain and my adventures upon the Ua.
He wore now the robes of the wazir of Bila Huruma. It was a wise choice, I thought, on the part of Bila Huruma. Ayari had proved his hardiness and worth in the journeys upon the Ua. He was facile with languages, and had connections with the villages of Nyuki on the northern shore of Ushindi, which was the territory of his father's birth, and, because of his connections with Kisu, with the Ukungu districts on the Ngao. Beyond this he had been born and raised in Schendi and, accordingly, spoke Gorean fluently. Adding to these things his intelligence, and his shrewdness and humanity, he seemed to me ideally suited for his work. Such a man might profitably be employed by a Ubar who wished to improve his relations not only with the interior but, too, with the city of Schendi, one of the major ports of civilized Gor. Too, Ayari was one of the few men who had ascended the Ua and lived to speak of it. He would doubtless figure prominently in the long-range programs and plans of Bila Huruma. In time I had little doubt that Ayari would become one of the most important men in the equatorial regions of Gor. I smiled to myself. There were probably few who thought that the little rogue of Schendi, the son of a lad who had once fled a village for stealing melons, would one day stand at the side of a throne.
But I thought most fondly of Kisu, he who was now again Mfalme in Ukungu.
To this day, as one may see upon the map, the land of Ukungu stands as a sovereign free state within the perimeters of the empire of Bila Huruma.
Before Bila Huruma had left the village of Nyundo, central village of the Ukungu villages, he had spoken to Kisu. "If you wish," he had said, indicating Tende, who knelt beside them, "I will take this slave and arrange for her sale in Schendi. I will then have whatever moneys she brings returned to you."
"Thank you, Ubar," had said Kisu, "but I will keep this woman in Ukungu."
"Is it your intention to free her?" asked Bila Huruma.
"No," had said Kisu.
"Excellent," had said Bila Huruma. "She is too beautiful to be free."
Tende had looked up at Kisu. "I will try to please my master well," she had said.
We had remained that night in the village of Nyundo. I remembered the feast well. In addition to its political importance it had given the talunas an opportunity to learn to dance and serve. Their progress in femininity had not been much advanced by their work at the oars of a galley.
I smiled.
In our journey downriver we had found the small
people marching the talunas westward, to sell them. The talunas, stripped, were being marched in tandem pairs, each pair fastened in the long coffle. Two forked sticks are lashed together. The fork of the first stick goes to the back of the neck of the first girl. Another stick then is thrust crosswise under the chin of the first girl and tied on the fork, holding her in the fork. The fork of the second lashed stick is before the throat of the second girl. Another stick then is thrust crosswise behind the neck of the second girl and lashed in place. The hands of each girl are tied behind their backs. Each pair, bound and fastened in the sticks, is then added as a unit to the coffle. The second girl in one pair, unless she is the last in the long line, and the first girl in the succeeding pair, unless she is the first in the long line, are fastened together by neck ropes. Thus is the coffle formed.
When we found the talunas being herded along by the small people we had brought our vessels to shore.
We bought the entire band of captive talunas for a crate of beads and five pangas.
We relieved the caught beauties of the coffle and chained them, four to a bench, to certain of the thwarts of one of the galleys. Oars were then thrust in their hands, four girls to one oar, that they might be able to move the levers. There were enough girls, in this arrangement, for five oars to a side with one girl left over, who could carry food and water to her laboring sisters. A long chain was run lengthwise in the galley and fastened to rings at both stem and stern. The left ankle of the extra girl, the fetch-and-carry girl, who was already in wrist rings, joined by a foot of chain, was then locked in one of two ankle shackles, joined by about eighteen inches of chain. The right ankle shackle was then passed under the long chain and snapped shut about her right ankle. She was thus, by her lovely legs and body, and shackled ankles, literally fastened about the long chain, which served then as a slave's run-chain, permitting her movement, but strictly, by intent, controlling its scope. She might move back and forth, lengthwise in the galley, and to the benches, performing her labors, but could not leave the vessel or, indeed, even touch its bulwarks. Too, it did not permit her to move as far as its rudder. On this galley, the floating prison for the talunas, both those on the benches, chained to the thwarts, and the fetch-and-carry girl, we put five askaris, one for the rudder, for the river galley is single ruddered, and four, should the girls at the oars require encouragement, or the fetch-and-carry girl be in any way not completely pleasing, with whips.