Renegades of Gor coc-23

by John Norman

  "So," said Aemilianus, "though I did continue to hope, I would not risk the Home Stone. I sent it south."

  "By tarnsmen?" I asked.

  "No," he said. "Cos controls the skies. I sent it south in the wagon of a tradesmen, Septimus Entrates.

  "It may have escaped notice, then," I said, "among the innumerable wagons, the carts, the strings of refugees, and such, fleeing south."

  "That is my hope," he said.

  It seemed to me that I might, somewhere, have heard the name, Septimus Entrates. But then one hears many names, thousands of names, here and there.

  "Cos," said a man, "prepares to attack."

  "From both sides?" asked Aemilianus.

  "It would seem so," said a fellow. "The chain of rafts has been opened in three places. The ships of Cos now enter the harbor. Too, there are other rafts from the river. rafts, and boats, too, are now coming out from the landing." "The Cosians will spend time in barrages or fire," said Aemilianus, "from the boars, from the rafts. The sky ill be dark with their metal. Use the bodies of the slain, and the wounded, as shields." He did not tell them to tear boards from the piers themselves, to construct makeshift hurdles and barricades. Perhaps that could be done later, but now this would, interestingly, have dismantled the very platform on which we stood, so crowded they were. Indeed, it would be difficult to use weapons here, even in thrusting. "When the Cosians ascend the piers themselves," continued Aemilianus, "we will meet them, with what men we still have, and make them pay for every board they cross. Carry me now to the side facing the inner harbor."

  "But you are wounded," said his aide.

  "Of course, you fool," said Aemilianus, angrily. "What do you think? Do you think I would have given an order I would not be willing, under similar circumstances, to obey? My body, as it is wounded, will serve as a shield in the fighting. It is all that it is good for now."

  "We need Aemilianus, our commander," said a man, "not a body for a shield." Aemilianus tried, angrily, to rise to his feet.

  At the same time, from beneath the bandage bound about his body there emerged a bright, fresh stain of crimson.

  Aemilianus sank back to a sitting position. "Surilius," said he. "The sword, use it now. Then there will be no more quibbling about bodies and shields." "No, Commander," said he.

  "I have never known you to refuse an order," said Aemilianus, puzzled. "If there must be a body for a shield, use mine, instead," he said. He drew his own sword.

  "No, old friend," begged Aemilianus.

  He called Surilius stood ready to pierce his own heart with his sword.

  "You," said Aemilianus, lifting his hand to me. "Strike me with your sword." "I am weary," I said.

  "Draw my own sword," he begged. "Hold it, that I may throw myself upon it." "No," I said. "No?" said Aemilianus.

  "I am not of Ar's Station," I said. "Do not presume to command one who has no fondness for either Ar or Ar's Station."

  "But you have fought for us!" said Aemilianus.

  "I saw things that did not please me," I said, "and I have fought, but so, too, might a tarn fly and a kaiila run."

  Men shuddered. Warriors, it is said in the codes, have a common Home Stone. Its name is battle.

  "Your word, Surilius," protested Aemilianus, turning again to the aide, his friend.

  "My word is sacred to me," said Surilius, "but so, too, are the terms of my word, and they require only that I do not permit you to fall, when you yourself could not avoid it, into the hands of Cosians. Then, but then only, am I prepared to strike."

  "You are a good soldier," said Aemilianus. "I beg your forgiveness, my friend." He then grimaced. Fresh blood appeared again beneath the bandage, running to his waist.

  "Let him rest," I said.

  A fellow lowered Aemilianus to the boards, amidst the feet about him.

  Aemilianus lifted his hand to his friend.

  "I will be at your side," said Surilius.

  "They are coming," said a fellow. "There must be a hundred rafts and boats, from both sides."

  "It will not be long now, will it, dear friend," said Aemilianus.

  "No, dear friend," said Surilius. "I do not think it will be long now." "Look off there," said a fellow, pointing toward the harbor. "I did not know they had so many ships."

  "What!" I said.

  "There," said the man pointing, out toward the river.

  I could see, out beyond the wall of chained rafts, opened now in three places, a flotilla of sails, long and low, triangular, sloping, those of lateen-rigged galleys.

  "They are coming for the kill," said a man.

  "Where is a glass," I cried, "a builder's glass, a glass of the builders!" Even as we watched we saw the sail of the first ship furled to its sloping yard and the yard swung, parallel to the keel, and lowered. In a moment the mast, too, had been lifted, and lowered. The other ships followed suit. The hair on the back of my neck rose. These are preparations of galleys for entering battle. They would not be under oar power along. It was hard now to even see the ships at the distance. Those were not round ships. They were long ships, ramships. They were shallow drafted, low, like knives in the water.

  "Bring me a glass!" I cried.

  "A glass!" called more than one man.

  "One of the ships of Cos is putting about," said a man.

  "I do not understand," said another.

  "See them come," said another fellow.

  "How many are there?" said another.

  "Where could Cos find such ships?" asked another.

  "The Cosians on the rafts and boats are approaching," said another. "In a moment they will open fire."

  We saw a tarnsman streaking by, coming from the direction of the river, in flight over the piers, speeding toward the landing, or the citadel.

  "Shields to the edges of the piers!" called out Sirilius. He had drawn his sword.

  Women and children huddled toward the center of the piers, crouching down. Many of the women had their heads down, clutching children, shielding them with their own bodies. There was very little noise.

  "Here is a glass," said a fellow. I lifted the apparatus to my eye. In a moment or two I had adjusted it, and had it trained on the flagship of the approaching flotilla. I sought the flag tugging and snapping on the stem line, run between the bow and the stem castle. Then I lowered the glass, closing it.

  "What are their colors?" asked a man.

  "It is the blue of Cos," I said.

  I saw Surilius, grasping his sword, look down at the unconscious figure of Aemilianus.

  "Cos does not have such force on the river," said a man.

  "Look at the fellows on the rafts out there," said another fellow.

  "They seem to be in great agitation," said a man.

  "May I look?" asked a fellow. I handed him the glass.

  Quickly he looked out at the mouth of the harbor. The ships were closer now. Now one could clearly see the blue fluttering at the stem line of the flagship. "That is not the flag of Cos!" he cried.

  "Surely then it is variant of the flag of Cos," I said, "perhaps the flag of their forces on the river."

  "It is the flag of Port Cos!" he cried. "It is the flag of Port Cos!" "The flag of Port Cos!" cried others.

  "What does it matter, then? I asked. "Port Cos is a colony of Cos, the very citadel of her power on the Vosk."

  "The topaz!" cried a man.

  "The topaz! The topaz!" cried others, hundreds of voices.

  Surilius was shaking Aemilianus, trying to arouse him. Tears were flowing from his eyes. "The topaz!" he cried to Aemilianus. "Marcus got through! It is Calliodorus, of Port Cos! It is the pledge of the topaz!"

  "I do not understand," I said.

  Suddenly I saw the flagship, knifing through an opening in the chain of rafts, literally sheer oars from the side of the Cosian ship put about in the harbor. I then saw another Cosian ship rammed amidships. The other three Cosian ships were trying to make a landfall at the sides of the harbor. I saw one run ag
round there, by a guard station. The fellows at the rafts were trying to close the chains, to close the harbor. I then saw four or five of the ram ships, their bows high, the rams out of the water, dripping water into the harbor, literally ride over, scraping and sliding, the rafts, and plunge into the harbor. The crews of the other two Cosian ships which had been in the harbor, those not injured, and not run aground, leapt over the sides, and, waist deep, waded to shore. I saw some other ships draw alongside the chains, and men swarm out onto the rafts. The Cosians that had been there fled before them. There remained the three openings, then, in the chain of rafts. Indeed, two trains of rafts now floated untethered in the harbor, and the other two trains floated loose, fastened only at one end, each still fastened to great pilings driven into the sand near guard stations, one on each side of the harbor. Out in the harbor itself the small boats and rafts of Cosians which had been approaching to attack were now hurrying to the shore, to one side or another, to take shelter near the most convenient guard station. One ship after another of the newcomers entered the harbor. The flagship, even now, was easing itself against the outer pier.

  "I do not understand what is going on," I said. "What is all this about a topaz?"

  "You are then indeed a stranger to Ar's Station, and to the river," said a fellow. "The pledge of the topaz was originally an agreement between river pirates, a pledge of mutual assistance and, in crisis, alliance, between them, those of the eastern and western Vosk, between Policrates in the east and Ragnar Voskjard in the west. When the ports of the river, and their men, rose up against the predations, the tolls and tributes, of these pirates, the topaz fell into the hands of the victorious rebels. From such fighting came the formation of the Vosk League."

  I knew something of the Vosk League. Its headquarters was in the town of Victoria, on the northern back of the Vosk, between Fina and Tafa. Due to its patrols and presence piracy, and certainly large-scale, institutionalized piracy, had been largely removed from the Vosk, from east of White Water, near Lara, a town of the Salarina Confederation at the confluence of the Vosk and Olni, to the delta.

  "But a topaz is a stone," I said, "a kind of semiprecious stone." "And such a stone is the symbol of the pledge," said the fellow. "It was originally a quite unusual stone, one which bore in its markings and coloration a remarkable configuration, that of a river galley. The stone was broken, however, into two pieces. One does not see the ship in the separate parts of the stone for the isolated marks and colorings seem meaningless. When the parts are joined, however, the ship appears. One part of the stone was originally held by Ragnar Voskjard, chief of pirates in the west, and the other by Policrates, chief of pirates in the east. Each, when in need of counsel or support, would send his part of the stone to the other. They would then join forces." "What has the topaz to do with the Vosk League?" I asked.

  "It has nothing to do with the Vosk League itself," said the fellow. "It is now a private pledge between Port Cos and Ar's Station."

  "But the sympathies of Port Cos are surely with her mother ubarate," I said, "and those of Ar's Station with Ar."

  I could see several galleys now drawing up at the piers. Men with shields leapt from them to the piers, hurrying to the sides facing the inner harbor. Cosians attempting to climb to the piers there would encounter fresh, dangerous armed me, in hundreds."

  "Both Port Cos and Ar's Station fought on the river, in terrible and bloody battles, hull to hull. After the final victory over the pirates, which took place at Victoria in 10,127 C.A., the parts of the stone came into the keeping of Calliodorus, at that time acting first captain in Port Cos, and Aemilianus, who was at that time commander of the naval forces of Ar's Station. The pledge was renewed privately between them, I think, as comrades in arms, as Ar's Station was not permitted by Ar to join the Vosk League."

  "Why was that?" I asked.

  "I do not know," he said. "It is speculated that Ar feared such an alliance would compromise her claims in the Vosk Basin."

  I nodded. That made sense to me. I had suspected as much earlier. The fellow, incidentally, had given the year of the aforementioned battle as 10,127 C.A. It was natural that he, of Ar's Station, would give the date in the chronology of Ar. Different cities, perhaps in their vanity, or perhaps simply in accord with their own traditions, often have their own chronologies, based on Administrator Lists, and such. A result of this is that there is little uniformity in Gorean chronology. The same year, in the chronology of Port Kar, if it is of interest, would have been Year 8 of the Sovereignty of the Council of Captains. The reform of chronology is proposed by a small party from among the castes of scribes almost ever year at the Fair of En'Kara, near the Sardar, but their proposals, sensible as they might seem, are seldom greeted with either interest or enthusiasm, even by the scribes. Perhaps that is because the reconciliation and coordination of chronologies, like the diction and convolutions of the law, are regarded as scribal prerogatives.

  "That is the Tais," said a fellow, pointing to the flagship of the newly arrived ships. "I would know it anywhere!" It was being moored at the pier. Its captain, who had been standing on the stern castle, issuing orders, now descended the steps, past the posts of the two helmsmen. In a moment, vaulting over the rail like a common seaman, he had disembarked. He was hatless and helmetless. A young fellow followed him. I recalled him from the audience chamber in the citadel. He was, I took it, the young warrior, Marcus. Men were cheering. Men clutched at them as they sought to make their way through the crowd. I saw them reaching out to touch even the swirling cloak of the captain. "Where is Aemilianus?" called the captain. In his hand, uplifted, about half the size of a fist, the sun catching its polished surface, was a yellowish stone, marked with brown. Men, seeing it, wept and cried out.

  "Surely there are more ships there than would have been sent by Port Cos," said a man.

  "Do not speak of them," whispered another.

  His caution puzzled me.

  To be sure, there must have been twenty-five ships in the outer harbor now, several of which had drawn up to the piers. On planks set out to the piers I saw women and children being ushered aboard.

  I went to the inner side of the pier, that facing the inner harbor. There was a line of men there, come from the ships. They crouched there, with overlapping shields, their swords drawn. I would not have cared to essay the climb to the pier.

  The captain and the young fellow, Marcus, made their way to the side of Aemilianus. He was sitting up, held by Surilius.

  I stepped back a little, toward the center of the pier, that I might observe them. Then I was close to them. Men had made way for me.

  The captain, whose name I had gathered was Calliodorus, he who had apparently fought long ago with Aemilianus on the river, when both were lesser officers, crouched beside him. He pressed the piece of stone he had brought with him into his hands. Aemilianus held it, tears in his eyes. Calliodorus then, as men observed, removed from his own pouch a similar stone. He then, steadying the stone in the hand of Aemilianus, who could scarcely hold it, fitted the two stones together. I was startled, for no sooner had the two pieces of stone been fitted together than it seemed there suddenly emerged, as now from a single stone, unriven, the image of a galley.

  The fellow beside me was crying.

  I saw a blond slave, thin and in rags, dare to crawl among the legs of free men, to lie on her stomach near Aemilianus. She put out her fingers to touch his leg. She, too, was weeping. It was she who had been called "Shirley," whom I had seen in the audience chamber of the citadel long ago. I recalled she had been ordered to remind him to whip her the same night, for having dared to look upon me, when I had been brought in, as a prisoner. Doubtless she had done so, and had received her whipping. She lay at his side, humbly. How helplessly was she his slave! I thought she would be luscious, when fattened up, for love.

  Calliodorus put the hands of Aemilianus on the stone, and placed his own hands over them. Their hands were then together, over the two joined hal
ves of the stone, the topaz.

  "The pledge is redeemed," he said.

  "My thanks, Commander," said Aemilianus, softly.

  "It is nothing, Commander," said Calliodorus.

  Women and children were still boarding galleys. I heard the trumpets of recall from the landing. The small boats, and the rafts, in the inner harbor, turned about then, and began to withdraw to the landing. I saw the standard of Cos removed from the walkway. Not a quarrel had been fired.

  "It took me days to reach Port Cos," said the young man, Marcus. "I was pursued closely. Once I was captured. I escaped. I moved at night. I hid in swamps. I am sorry."

  Aemilianus lifted his hand to him, and weakly grasped it. "You reached Port Cos," he said.

  "It took us time to fit and rig the ships," said Calliodorus. "I am sorry." "Such things cannot be done in a moment," said Aemilianus.

  "There was no problem with the crew calls," said Calliodorus. "Volunteers abounded. Indeed, there is no man with me who was not a volunteer. We had to turn men away. Most of these with me fought with us against Policrates and Voskjard."

  Aemilianus smiled. "Good," he said. "So far west on the river," said Calliodorus, "we had not realized your straits were so desperate."

  That interested me. The major land forces of Ar, I had gathered, were somewhere in the west, south of the river. I wagered that the men there, those in the ranks there, at least, were no better informed than, apparently, had been those of Port Cos. There had been no dearth of intelligence as to the desperate situation of Ar's Station, however, in this vicinity, east on the river, and south towards Ar.

  "How many ships have you?" asked Aemilianus, a commander's question. "We have brought ten from Port Cos," said Calliodorus, smiling, "but as we came upriver it seemed some unidentified ships joined us, from here and there." "Unidentified?" smiled Aemilianus. "From here and there?"

  "Yes," said Calliodorus, smiling, and speaking very clearly. "They are unidentified, absolutely. We do not know where they came from, nor what might be their home ports."