Norman, John - Gor 20 - Players of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 20 - Players of Gor.txt Page 56

by Players of Gor [lit]

  “Even though your manes may be cleared,” I said, “I do not think I would revisit

  Brundisium in the near future.”

  “No,” said Boots, “we shall, for the time, cross it off our itinerary.”

  “Good,” said Andronicus.

  “It is their loss,” said Boots.

  “True,” agreed Lecchio.

  “I trust you are all well, and are soon to be about your business,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Boots, “but I suspect we may soon have to find another brawny

  fellow, another chap of great strength and modest talent, to help us set op the

  platform and tents.”

  “I think so,” I smiled.

  “Perhaps I could take over the knife-throwing act,” said Boots.

  Rowena and Telitsia turned white.

  “But who would pay to see knives thrown at a slave?” asked Chino.

  “That is true,” said Boots.

  The slaves visibly relaxed.

  “We shall miss you,” said Andronicus.

  “I shall miss you, too, all of you,” I said.

  “Doubtless we shall have to locate another player, too,” said Boots.

  “Yes,” smiled Scormus of Ar. “I am returning to Ar.”

  “And doubtless a Bina, too,” moaned Boots.

  “Yes, Master,” said Bina, kneeling beside Scormus.

  “Do you think you will enjoy wearing your collar in Ar?” he asked her.

  She looked up at him. “As long as you are my master,” she said, “I would wear it

  joyfully in Torvaldsland or Schendi.”

  “Rowena! Telitsia!” said Boots.

  The two slaves immediately knelt before us.

  I regarded them, Rowena, with her long, yellow braids, and dark-haired, shapely

  Telitsia, once of the scribes, now merely a girl of Boots Tarsk-Bit.

  “Are they not lovely?” said Boots.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Rowena,” said Boots, “had the making of a marvelous Golden Courtesan and

  Telitsia, here, I am certain, will become my finest Brigella.”

  “Thank you, Master,” said Rowena.

  “Thank you, Master,” said Telitsia.

  “This slave here,” said Boots, “the well-formed brunet,”

  page 390

  indicating Telitsia, “has begged permission o record our plays, to write them

  down. Is that not absurd?”

  “Why would it be absurd?” I asked.

  “Because they constantly change, being continually improved and refined, and

  because they are often being adapted to different venues and are often topical,”

  he said. “Too, how could a mere literary image capture the essence of the living

  drama?”

  “Too, they are not worth writing down,” said Lecchio.

  “I know you do not value my opinion in these matters,” I said, “but I must

  disagree with Lecchio.”

  “You are more inclined to agree with me, then?” asked Boots.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Your opinion, the,” said Boots, “is not without value.”

  “Even if these plays are not great dramas,” I said, “of the sort of which

  perhaps Andronicus dreams, they are a genuine part of the vital and living

  theater. They are a place, whether at a crossroads or in a ubar’s hall, where

  theater exists. In this sense they are not only a part of its tradition and

  history, but are, humanly, for all their vulgarity and bawdiness, rich and

  precious. It would be a tragedy if they were not, in one sense or another,

  however unworthily or inadequately, remembered.”

  “It is impossible that they should be lost,” said Boots.

  “I know of a world where they were,” I said.

  “At any rate,” said Boots. “I did give her permission, and the materials, too,

  to make at least a few jotting pertinent to these matters.”

  “Excellent,” I said.

  “Do you think me weak?” asked Boots.

  “No,” I said. “It is a good idea.” I looked to Telitsia, kneeling with Rowena

  before us. “Why did you want to do this?” I asked her.

  “I have learned to love them,” she said. “I found them precious. I did not wan

  them to perish.”

  “If giving her our permission in this matter bothers you,” I said, “seeming to

  you perhaps a bit too indulgent, there exists an obvious remedy wherewith you

  may assuage your qualms.”

  “What is that?” asked Boots, interested.

  “Simply command her,” I said. “As she is a slave, she must then obey promptly

  and perfectly, and will be subject to any disciplines which you might care to

  impose on her.”

  “A very good idea,” said Boots. “Telitsia!”

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Keep some notes, or jottings, or records of some sort, now

  page 391

  and then, on some of our plays, or some of those of others, as you might come on

  the, that sort of thing,” he said.

  “Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” said Telitsia, once of the scribes.

  I looked down at Rowena and Telitsia, and though they were slaves, they lowered

  their eyes, blushing at my glance. “an excellent brace of sluts,” I said.

  “Yes,” agreed Boots, proud of his chattels.

  “You are fortunate,” I said. “Not only do you have two fine actresses here but

  tow superb tent girls.”

  “True,” said Boots. He was indeed fortunate. Both girls were so beautiful that

  the mere sight of them, chained by the ankle to the stake in their tents, could

  drive men mad with desire.

  “I shall miss the, as I will all of you,” I said.

  “We, too, will miss you, all of us,” said Chino.

  “Scormus,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I gather that Andronicus gave you the papers from Brundisium, the keys to

  certain ciphers,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “I hope they proved pertinent to the other papers I left with you, those

  originally obtained from she who was once the Lady Yanina.”

  “They did,” he said, “as we had surmised they would.” He handed me a sheaf of

  papers. “I have written out the decipherings for you. There was no difficulty,

  given the keys. I did them last night. They are all here.”

  I took the papers. “I am grateful,” I said. To be sure, my primary motivation in

  entering Brundisium had been to investigate my own business, to try and discover

  who or what it was that had been responsible for the attack on me in Port Kar. I

  had learned, of course, to my surprise, that it had been neither Priest-Kings

  nor Kurii, but Lurius of Jad, Ubar of Cos. This information, and I did not doubt

  but what it was sound, I had had from Flaminius, he of Ar, though seemingly

  traitor to that city. “What is their purport?” I asked.

  “Treason to Ar, betrayal of the alliance,” he said. “
Cos, abetted by Tyros,

  moves against Ar. Thousands of men, trained to perfection in both Cos and Tyros,

  embark upon vessels. n Brundisium’s harbor, the joint invasion fleet is to be

  peacefully received. Indeed, for months Brundisium has been being secretly

  stocked with provisions and materials of war. It is serve as a staging area for

  the subsequent penetration of the continent.

  “In the light of such considerations,” said Boots, “it is little

  page 392

  wonder that those of Brundisium should seem somewhat concerned over matters of

  security.”

  “There were fires in the city,” I said. “Perhaps those stores intended to

  support the invasion were damaged or destroyed, thus forcing a delay.”

  “On the supposition that the housing of such stores was near the harbor,” said

  Scormus, “I would regard it as unlikely. The flames, as I understand it, from

  Andronicus and others, were not in the harbor area.”

  “That is true,” I said.

  “Many things now come together,” said Scormus. “Even so small a thing as the

  presence of Ta grapes, generally associated with the terraces of Cos, at the

  banquet of Belnar now seems significant.”

  “Most significant, perhaps,” I said, “was the presence of Temenides in

  Brundisium, at a high table, obviously enjoying the favor of Belnar.”

  “Perhaps he was a courier,” speculated Boots. “Players may come and go much as

  they please.”

  “I suspect his station was higher than that of a simple courier,” said Scormus.

  “Such fellows, at any rate, would seldom travel with an escort of Cosian

  spearmen.”

  “You suspect his presence there indicated some advance in this business, that

  perhaps some important juncture was at hand?” I asked.

  “I think so,” smiled Scormus.

  “Ar,” I said, “has the finest land forces on Gor. Cos and Tyros are mad to

  challenge her on the land.”

  “Marlenus, Ubar of Ar,” said Scormus, “is not in Ar. He is, as I understand it,

  in the Voltai, concerned with a punitive expedition against Treve.”

  “Others, of course, could take command,” I said.

  “Of course,” said Scormus.

  “I think those of Ar have little to fear,” I said.

  “The war of Cos with Ar has been long,” said Scormus. “Now, Tyros, a traditional

  naval ally of Cos, is prepared to support her ambitions openly on the land. The

  unified forces of these two ubarates are not to be taken lightly.”

  “But you have no clear idea of the numbers involved?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “That is not indicated in the documents I have examined. ON the

  other hand I conjecture they will be considerable.”

  “You must take action,” I said. “you must travel swiftly to

  page 393

  Ar, to warn them of the treachery of Brundisium, to ready them to resist the

  invasion.”

  “I think they will learn soon enough,” he said.

  “I do not understand,” I said.

  “We are too late,” he said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I today not the Seventeenth of Se’Kara?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Look out to sea,” he said.

  Rowena cried out in amazement. So, too, did others. Even Petrucchio climbed to

  his feet.

  In the distance, at the horizon, there were sails, the sails of lateen-rigged

  vessels. We stood for a long time, all of us, on he summit of that hill, near

  its clifflike edge, the water below striking at its foot, overlooking Thassa,

  with Brundisium in the distance.

  “There is no end of them!” said Boots.

  The ships, in line after line, continued to appear over the horizon. The tiny

  dots of white sails, slowly, in the placid hundreds, made their way toward

  Brundisium.

  “It has begun,” said Scormus.

  “Were there names in the papers?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Members of the high council of Brundisium, other than Belnar,

  are involved. His removal will not affect the business.”

  “Surely, too, there re contacts in Ar,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said. “There are contacts in Ar.”

  “That was to have been expected,” I said. “Lurius is a cautious fellow. He would

  not embark upon an enterprise as hazardous as this without the assurance of

  significant internal support.”

  “No,” said Scormus. “And worse, it seems this bold, dark business may have

  actually been begun at the instigation or, and upon the invitation of, certain

  parties in Ar.”

  “There are traitors, then, in Ar,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Scormus.

  “Who are these traitors?” I asked.

  “On the whole it is difficult to tell,” said Scormus. “Few of their names occur

  explicitly in the papers. ON the other hand, they are apparently numerous, and

  some of them, I gather, are highly place.”

  page 394

  “Some names of traitors do occur in the documents?” I said.

  “Yes,” he said. “The names of two traitors occur there.”

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “Flaminius,” he said.

  “He with whom we have had dealings?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Scormus.

  “Yes,” I said. “He is a traitor to Ar. I left him bound in Brundisium. He is

  doubtless free by now.”

  Scormus nodded.

  “Who is the other one?” I asked.

  “It is a woman,” he said.

  “That is interesting,” I said.

  “I do not think you would know her,” he said.

  “Probably not,” I said.

  “She has been obscure in Ar for years,” he said.

  “What is her name?” I asked.

  “Talena,” he said.

  “Talena!” I said.

  “Is there anything wrong?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Did you know a Talena once?” he asked.

  “Once,” I said.

  “It could not be she,” he said.

  “No,” I said. “There must be a thousand Talenas in Ar.”

  “Probably,” said Scormus. “Too, with all due respect, it is unlikely that one

  such as yourself, given the assumed lowliness of your background and origins,

  would know her.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said, “this one once stood high in Ar. She was of high caste and noble

  blood. She was of gentle birth, of delicate breeding, a creature of the most

  refined upbringing and careful nurture, and of acknowledged and established

  station. She was among the loftiest of the free women of the city. On such

  festivals as the Planting Feast it was even she who was sometimes permitted to

  honor
the Home Stone, sprinkling upon it the richest Ka-la-na, and the finest of

  Sa-Tarna grains. She was the daughter of Marlenus, ubar of Ar.”

  “I have heard of her,” I said.

  Then she fell into disgrace, having been enslaved, thereby no longer having a

  Home Stone. Then, for having begged to be purchased, an act confessing the

  propriety of her bondage, sworn she was from her father’s blood.”

  “I have heard something of it,” I said.

  page 395

  “In recent years, freed, but with no Home Stone, in disgrace and seclusion, she

  has lived in Ar.”

  I nodded.

  “Now, it seems,” said he, “she is somehow implicated in a plot to overthrow

  Marlenus, that she is among the ring leaders in an insidious betrayal and

  projected revolt, that she is a prominent figure in a treason that could open

  the very gates of Ar to its enemies. It is intended, it seems, that it should

  then be she who sits upon the throne of Ar, attentive to the counsels of Cos and

  Tyros.”

  “The armies of Ar,” I said, “will destroy the forces of Cos and Tyros.”

  “I do not think that is so clear,” said Scormus. Again we looked out to sea. It

  seemed covered with ships. I had never before, anywhere, seen the marshaling of

  so many ships. Sails, even now, continued to appear over the horizon.

  “No,” I said. “The armies of Ar will destroy those of Cos and Tyros.”

  “Your confidence exceeds mine, particularly in the present circumstances,” said

  Scormus.

  I shrugged.

  “Should that occur, however, and the traitors be found out, doubtless they would

  be dealt with most harshly.”

  I stepped away from the grassy height from which we surveyed the vast, distant

  fleet. I took the papers from my tunic. I went to the small fire in the camp,

  among the wagons. With stick I stirred it. I threw the papers on the fire. I

  watched them burn.

  “Did you make a copy of the papers?” I asked Scormus.

  “No,” he said. “But I have seen them. I am familiar with their contents. Am I

  now to be killed, or something?”

  “No,” I said. “Of course not.”

  “What am I to do?” he asked.

  “Do whatever you think best,” I said.

  “Even if I had the papers,” he said, “I would have no way to prove their

 

‹ Prev Next ›