by John Norman
Now there stood a man with a torch at the gate. "Open it!" he cried.
Four men thrust on the beam, lifting it, shoving it, in its looped, leather brackets.
"Hurry!" cried the man with the torch.
"Stop, Cowards!" screamed Sarus. "Stop!"
They paid him no heed. Rather, other men ran, too, to the gate.
I thrust my sword into the dirt at my feet, and held the spear.
The beam began to slide free of the leather brackets. The spear, a Gorean war spear, its head tapered of bronze, some eighteen inches long, its shaft more than an inch and a half in thickness, more than six feet in length, sped from my grasp.
I seized again my sword, and moved again, to one side, mixing in the shadows.
The men fell back from the gate. One of them, through the back, was pinned to the beam, fastening it in place. It could no longer slip through the leather brackets.
"Sarus has slain his own man!" cried the fellow with the torch.
The men at the gate turned wildly. Several of them stood with blades drawn.
"Not I, Fool!" screamed Sarus. "The enemy! The enemy!"
"Attack!" cried the man with the torch.
Four of the men at the gate, thinking to protect themselves, ran against other men of Tyros.
I saw Hura darting free, cut loose by a man of Tyros.
I moved about the inside of the stockade wall. I encountered a man of Tyros, back against the wall. He struck out wildly. I left him at the foot of the wall.
I must hold the gate.
Some six men of Tyros, near the center of the stockade, some fifteen yards from the gate, were engaged with blades, striking at one another. I saw two fall.
"Do not fight!" screamed Sarus. "Locate the enemy! The enemy!"
The men fought. Now some eight or ten were engaged. They were half crazed with fear.
"Do not fight!" screamed Sarus.
I saw two more fall.
I saw Mira, free, leap to one side. Other panther women, too, were being cut free.
One of them, I saw, found her weapons.
A shape leaped from the darkness, tumbling her to the dirt, rolling with her. It was Sheera.
At the gate two men, frenzied, worked at the spear that fastened their fellow to the beam. Four others crowded about. The man who held the torch at the gate was facing the fighting in the center of the stockade.
Four times my blade thrust, and four men of Tyros slipped back, stumbling from the gate.
The two men working at the spear jerked it free of the wood and the body, impaled, was rudely thrown aside.
They turned and saw me.
Twice more my blade struck.
The man, then, with the torch, turned to face the gate. The torch fell.
The gate was again in darkness.
"Get your weapons!" screamed Hura.
In the center of the stockade, two torches were lifted. I placed my sword in the dirt before the gate and, turning the impaled body about, drew free the great war spear, pulling the shaft through the body, holding the body in place, beneath my foot, to free the shaft.
"Our bowstrings have been cut!" wailed a panther woman. Others, too, cried out.
I heard, from one side, the laughter of Verna, and saw her briefly, a sleen knife in her hand.
Then she disappeared in the shadows.
"We must escape!" cried one of the panther girls. "Escape!" cried others.
"Stand where you are!" cried Hura, her voice shrill. "We do not know where he is!"
"Take knives!" cried another girl.
They scrambled among their discarded skins and accouterments.
"They are gone!" cried one of the girls.
"Our spears, too, are gone!" cried another.
I saw, in the light of two torches, men fighting, still in the center of the stockade. I saw two more men of Tyros fall, one with Sarus, one with those who had attempted to flee.
Then there was the light of only one torch, for the Gorean war spear had left my hand.
Another man of Tyros fell, at the hands of one of his fellows, and then another.
"Stop fighting!" cried Sarus. "Stop fighting!"
Still blades clashed.
I breathed heavily, standing at the gate, in the darkness.
"Stop!" cried Sarus. "Stop, in the name of Chenbar!"
The men of Tyros, wild-eyed, half crazed with fear, fell back.
I knew then how in Tyros stood the word of Chenbar.
"Stand side by side," ordered Sarus. "Form a circle!"
"We are weaponless!" cried Hura. "Let us within your circle!"
None knew where within the stockade I stood.
The girls looked about, crouching and cowering. They had no weapons. They were naked. Their wrists doubtless still bore the deep, red, circular marks of Gorean binding fiber. About the necks of most, knotted still, was a tight loop of binding fiber, though it had been cut on both sides, to free them from the coffle. They were terrified.
"Please!" wept Hura.
They were defenseless. And they knew I stood, somewhere, within the stockade, unseen, with a steel blade.
Perhaps I stood at their very side.
Would the blade, suddenly, without warning, from the darkness leap forward to claim them?
"Please let us within your circle!" cried Hura. "Please!"
"Please!" cried Mira. "Please!" cried the others.
"Be silent," snapped Sarus, looking about, peering into the darkness. He had little concern with the women, particularly inasmuch as their weapons had been destroyed, or had vanished.
He had freed them, it seemed, for nothing.
"You are men!" cried Hura. "We are only women!" She fell to her knees before Sarus. "As women," she cried, "we beg your protection!"
"Proud Hura!" sneered Sarus.
"Please, Sarus!" she wept.
"Into the circle," he snapped.
Gratefully the women, weaponless and naked, defenseless, crept within the circle.
"Bosk of Port Kar!" called Sarus. "Bosk of Port Kar!"
I did not, of course, answer him.
I wondered where in the stockade were Sheera and Verna.
"You have done well!" called Sarus. "But now we stand in formation. We cannot be surprised. Soon we shall have more torches. Soon we shall rebuild a fire. We shall then be able to see you. You will not then escape us."
Only silence answered him.
"No longer do we fear you!" he called. "Yet that there be less bloodshed we are prepared to be merciful. We are prepared to bargain."
I did not respond.
"You may have all the women," said Sarus, "all."
Within their circle, naked and helpless, crouching, huddled together, the women of Hura moaned.
"Sleen!" cried Hura.
"And, too," called Sarus, "you may have all male slaves, including your men, saving only Marlenus, Ubar of Ar."
There was silence.
"On him there can be no compromise!" cried Sarus. "Can you hear me? Do you accept these terms?"
I made no sound.
"He is gone!" cried one of the men. "He has escaped! He has left!"
"Hold your formation," said Sarus. "Keep formation!"
There was still only silence.
Sarus called the name of two men. "Gather," said he, "wood."
"No!" cried one of the men. "No!"
He had no wish to leave the circle.
"There is wood within the circle," said Hura.
"Gather it," said Sarus.
Within the circle, obediently, the women, in the light of the torch, gathered wood, mostly the remains of the original fire, which I had destroyed earlier.
In the darkness, silently, I prowled the interior of the stockade. A man from the circle darted from it, clutched a fallen torch, and retreated to the circle. This torch was lit from the other.
"He is here!" suddenly cried a voice, that of Rim.
My heart leaped.
"Do not break formation!" cried Sar
us.
But already two men, eager, blades ready, had sped toward Rim's voice.
It was not difficult, accordingly, to follow them.
"He is not here!" cried one of the men.
He was mistaken.
Twice my blade struck.
I heard a woman scream to one side. Then she cried, "He is here!"
"Hold formation!" screamed Sarus.
They should have understood that the slave girls had been bound and gagged, and that the women of Hura were within their own circle.
Two men again rushed toward the sound. Again they did not find me.
It was they who instead were found.
I moved my blade back from the body of the second. I saw Sheera slip away in the darkness.
"Keep your formation!" cried Sarus.
"We must escape!" screamed one of the men. "He will kill us all!"
He ran toward the gate. I caught him at the gate and, with my fist, sword in it, struck him across the face. He spun back, staggering, turning, and fell at the feet of Sarus.
"He is at the gate," said one of the men. He lifted the torch.
I stood at the gate, sword drawn.
"More torches," said Sarus. "More fire."
In a few moments, two more torches had been lit. And, within the circle, lit by the torches, burned a fire.
The men of Sarus broke their circle and faced me.
They were haggard. They breathed heavily. Some were bloodied.
There were now, standing, seven of them, together with Sarus. The man I had struck lay unconscious before them. Elsewhere two men moaned, somewhere in the darkness.
I felt my tunic thick with blood at my left side. There was blood from a cut on my left arm. I could feel it running to my wrist.
At the line of the men of Tyros the torches were lifted.
"Greetings, Bosk of Port Kar," said Sarus.
"Greetings," said I, "Sarus of the island of Tyros."
"We have searched for you," he said.
"I am here," I informed him.
Sarus turned to his men. "Find the crossbows," he said. I leaned back against the gate. I shook my head.
The fire burned higher now.
Sarus and I looked at one another.
I had slain one man with a crossbow. I did not know what had happened to the weapon. I had not encountered the other man, the other crossbowman. No quarrels had sped. No man at the line of the men of Tyros carried it.
It had been important. But I had failed to locate it, or its bowman. I had failed.
Sarus smiled.
"You know where he is now," he said to two of his men. "Find the crossbows."
"They are here," said a voice at my side, that of a woman. It was Sheera. At my other side stood Verna, she, too, with a crossbow. The women held the bows leveled.
"You have lost," said I, "Sarus."
"I found the bow," said Sheera, "among the bodies."
"He who held this bow," said Verna, "lies now wounded in the darkness, struck by one of his own fellows. The bow fell to the side and it was I who found it."
Suddenly Sarus laughed. "I have not lost," he said. "It is you who have lost!"
His men gave a ragged cheer. Even the women of Hura cried out.
I did not understand.
"Look behind you!" cried Sarus. "Look behind you, Bosk of Port Kar! It is over! Over!"
"If one moves," said I to Sheera and Verna, "fire upon him."
The men of Sarus were grinning.
I turned. Through the cracks in the gate, at the beach, beside the embers of Sarus' great beacon, I could see lanterns. Two longboats, filled with men, were being drawn on the beach. Then, in two long lines, lanterns high, men began to approach the stockade.
"It is the men of the Rhoda and Tesephone," said Sarus. "You have lost, Bosk of Port Kar!"
I turned to the beam which barred the gate. I sheathed my sword. Slowly, foot by foot, I thrust back the heavy beam. It fell from its loops and, slowly, I swung open the gate. The men, with lanterns, stood outside.
A large fellow, clad in the yellow of Tyros, entered. He grinned. A tooth was missing on the upper right side of his mouth.
"Greetings, Captain," said Thurnock.
21
My Business is Concluded in the Stockade
The men of Sarus, one by one, hurled their blades into the earth.
"Step away from your steel," ordered Thurnock, gesturing that they should stand to one side.
They did so, in the yellow tunics of Tyros, sullen, ringed by the blades and spear points of my men.
Sarus had not surrendered his weapon. He stood facing us, breathing heavily.
I observed him.
Tina slipped within the gate. She was barefoot and my collar, still, was at her throat, but she wore a fresh tunic of wool, brief and white, and her hair was bound back with a woolen fillet. Behind her, blade in hand, that she might come to no harm, was the young Turus, he who had worn the amethyst-studded wristlet.
"You have done well," I told her.
I would, in time, free her.
Turus stood with her, one arm about her.
Hura, and her women, Mira, too, crept miserably to one side, shrinking back against the palings of the stockade, naked women, ready for the chains and collars of slave girls. My men eyed them, appreciatively.
Marlenus, Rim, Arn, and the men of Marlenus chained within the stockade came forward. They were jubilant in the torchlight. Their wrists were still locked behind their backs. They were still fastened together, chained, by the neck.
Sarus turned from me to face Marlenus.
Marlenus looked at me and grinned. "Well done Tarl Cabot," said he, "Warrior."
"I am Bosk of Port Kar," I said. "I am of the Merchants."
I felt weak. The side of my tunic, the yellow of Tyros, was thick and stiff with clotted blood. I could feel the dried blood on my left arm, rough and flaking, even between the fingers, where it had run over my wrist and hand.
There were now more torches and lanterns in the stockade, carried by my men.
"Give me that crossbow," said one of my men to Sheera. She surrendered the weapon.
Slaves are not permitted weapons.
"Kneel," I told her.
She looked at me and, angrily, did so, at my thigh. She was only slave.
She had been of assistance, but she was only slave. It was the duty of a girl to be of use to her master.
I recalled that I had told her that I would sell her in Lydius.
"They made me do it!" cried Tina, to my surprise. She broke away from Turus and ran and knelt before Sarus who stood, still, near the fire, haggard, angry, his blade in his hand. "I had no choice!" she cried. He looked down at her. She leaped to her feet and put her arms about him, weeping. I did not understand her behavior.
Sarus, angrily, violently, thrust her aside.
"Surrender your weapon," I told him.
"No," he said. "No."
"You have failed," said I, "Sarus."
He looked at me wildly.
His tunic was torn.
He stood unsteadily. In the very Ahn he had lost his victory, his certain triumph.
All that he had come to the northern forests to accomplish he had failed to do.
He had failed his Ubar, Chenbar of Tyros, called the Sea Sleen.
"No!" cried he suddenly.
"Stop!" I cried.
He spun wildly and ran to Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars, sword high.
He stood before the Ubar, his sword raised to strike. But between Sarus and Marlenus of Ar there stood another, Verna, the crossbow she carried leveled at the heart of Sarus.
He could not strike for she stood in his way, and did his arm move, her finger, even were she struck, would jerk on the trigger of the weapon, flinging its iron-headed quarrel through his body, perhaps even to the palings behind.
I removed the sword from Sarus' uplifted hand.
Thurnock took him and thrust him, stumbling, and weeping,
to stand by his men.
"Well done, Slave!" congratulated Marlenus of Ar.
Verna did not respond to him.
Instead she turned, and faced him. There was a gasp, and silence.
The crossbow, now, stood leveled at the heart of Marlenus of Ar.
The Ubar faced her. He was helpless in his chains.
I heard the fire of the torches crackling.
Marlenus did not flinch. "Fire," he said.
She did not speak to him.
"I do not grant you freedom," he said. "I am Marlenus of Ar."
Verna handed the crossbow to a man who stood nearby. He took it, quickly.
She turned to face Marlenus of Ar. "I have no wish to kill you," she said.
Then she walked to one side.
Marlenus stood for a moment in the light of the torches, and then he threw back his head, with his long hair, and laughed. His head had not had the stripe of degradation shaven in it, as had my head, and those of my men. He would leave the forest as he had entered it, with his glory. He had lost nothing.
Are you always victorious, Marlenus of Ar, I asked myself. I had freed him, he whom I envied, he who had denied me bread, and fire and salt in Ar. He whom in some respects I hated I had risked my life to liberate.
He would leave the forest as he had entered it, in glory. I wore in my head the stripe of degradation. In my venture into the forest I had failed.
Both Sarus and I had failed. Only Marlenus of Ar would be victorious.
But he and his men might be mine. They stood in chains. I had ships at my disposal. I might, rather than Sarus, take them as prizes to Tyros. I might thus have my vengeance.
"Unchain me!" roared Marlenus of Ar, laughing.
I hated him, he, always victorious.
"Sarus," said I, "the key to the chains of the Ubar and the others."
Sarus reached to his wallet, slung at his belt. "It is gone," he said. He seemed stunned.
"I have it," said Tina. There was much laughter in the stockade. We recalled how she had, for a brief moment, before being thrust away, clung to the dazed Sarus. She had, in that instant, taken the key. She brought it to me.
"Similarly," said Thurnock, "took she the key from the mate of the Rhoda and, when the ships were tied together, and the men of the Rhoda and Tesephone were drunk with her body and the vessels of paga she poured them, she brought it to us. We freed ourselves, and put those who had been our captors in chains."
"Well done," said I, "Thurnock."