by John Norman
"Sail!" cried a man. "Sail!" I looked up. He was high above the deck. He stood, barefoot, on the lookout platform, high on the tall, single mast, well above the long yard and the billowing, triangular sail; the lookout platform is a wooden disk, fixed on the mast; his hands were on a ring, also encircling the mast.
"Where away?" called an officer, on the high deck, whipping out a small telescope.
"Schendi half ship!" called the man. The new vessel was abeam on our port side. Sailors of Cos usually refer to the left side of the ship by the port of destination and the right side of the ship by the port of registration; this alters, of course, when the ports of destination and registration are the same; in that case the sailors of Cos customarily refer to the left side of the ship as the "harbor side," the right side of the ship normally continuing to be designated as before, by reference to the port of registration. This sort of thing occasionally presents problems in translation between Gorean and English. For example, an expression in Gorean which might intelligently be translated as "Off the starboard bow," would be more literally translated, for the ship on which we were, as "To the Telnus bow." The exact expressions "port" and "starboard" do not exist in Gorean, though there are, naturally, equivalent expressions. The English expression "starboard" is a contraction of "steering board," and refers to the side of certain ships, particularly northern ships, on which the steering board, or rudder, was to be found. Most Gorean vessels, on the other hand, like many early vessels of Earth, are double ruddered. A reference to the "rudder side" would thus, in Gorean, be generally uninformative. It might be noted, however, if it is of interest, that the swift, square-rigged ships of Torvaldsland are single ruddered, and on the right side. A reference to the "rudder side" or "steering-board," or "steering-oar," side would be readily understood, at least by sailors, if applied to such a ship.
The Captain of the Jewel of Jad hurried to the high deck. The officer there on watch handed him the telescope.
"It has two masts, two sails," he said, "and ten oars to a side. It must, thus, be a round ship."
"It flies the flag of Port Kar," said the captain, with pleasure.
"See now," said the officer, pointing.
"I see," said the captain. "She is turning about."
Another officer ascended to the high deck. He, too, bore a glass.
"It is a round ship," said the first officer.
"It is low in the water," said the second officer, he who had just come to the high deck.
"It is heavily freighted," said the first officer.
The captain lowered the glass. He was still looking across the water. He licked his lips.
The Jewel of Jad was a long ship, a ramship, though she was now in merchant service.
"She flees," said the first officer. "Let us take her!"
The second officer continued to regard the ship. "She seems long," said he, "for only ten oars to a side."
"She flies the flag of Port Kar," urged the first officer. "Let us take her!"
"We shall take her," said the captain. "Signal our intentions to the flagship. The convoy will lay to."
"Yes, Captain!" said the first officer, and called swiftly to men to run the signal flags of Cos to the mast.
The captain spoke soberly to the helmsmen, and the Jewel of Jad turned to pursue the ship of Port Kar.
Men leaped to the benches and our oars slid outboard. The oar master took his place on the steps below the helmdeck. Weapons reposed at the foot of the benches. It would be holiday and carnival. The decks were not cleared. None even noted me, nor, if they did, sent me below. Missile weapons were not readied. Sand was not brought to the decks. They did not even take the time to lower the yard and drop the mast, which is commonly done in such vessels before an engagement. It would be easy work; there would be shares for all.
The captain grinned.
"Stroke!" called the oar master. The Jewel of Jad, like a living thing, leaped in pursuit of the fleeing vessel.
Only the second officer, he also with the glass, seemed troubled, observing the fleeing ship with the glass. Then he was ordered to his station.
I stood near the railing, below the steps leading to the helmdeck.
The signal flags of Cos snapped in the wind. Behind us, in the distance, hove to, lay the convoy.
We would rejoin them shortly. I was very excited. Never had I seen a capture at sea. When the Clouds of Telnus had been taken I had been locked below decks, with other slave girls. We had not known to whom we belonged, until the hatch had been opened and we saw strangers.
"Faster!" called the captain.
"Stroke!" called the oar master. "Stroke!"
The convoy fell behind.
"Captain!" called the lookout. "Behold her! Her masts are dropping. She is turning about!"
I could see, from where I stood, the yards lowering, the sails being furled, the masts being unblocked on the other ship. Also, I could see it swing about.
"It is as I feared," cried the second officer, he who had not been sanguine about the vessel's pursuit.
He fled to the high deck.
"Hold!" called the captain. "Hold!" called the oar master. The men looked at him, puzzled.
"See!" said the second officer. "Look!"
"You are to be at your station!" shouted the captain.
"I submit, Sir," said the officer, "you should turn about."
The captain studied the ship in his glass. The second officer, too, observed it.
Round ships, I knew, commonly had two masts, fixed, and permanently rigged.
The ship we now watched had no mast we could see.
"Note the oars, Captain," pressed the second officer. "There are now twenty to a side."
Additional oars had been slid through thole ports.
"That is no round ship, Captain," said the young officer. Its lack of height in the water had not indicated a weight of freighting, buts its design, swift and terrible, like a mighty racing shell. Its oarage had been only half revealed. Now its masts were down. Ramships enter battle under oar power.
"I urge you, Sir," cried the young officer, "turn about or build speed to shear!"
The ship was bearing down upon us, rapidly.
"Turn about or build speed to shear!" cried the young officer.
"See the flag!" cried the first officer, who had been eager to pursue.
Now not only the flag of Port Kar but another flag, too, snapped on its line at the stem castle of the approaching vessel, hurling toward us, like a swift knife, its oars flashing.
It was a broad flag, white, with vertical bars of green. Superimposed upon the bars of green, gigantic, black and horned, it bore the head of a bosk.
"It is the flag of Bosk of Port Kar!" cried the first officer.
"Turn about! Turn about!" screamed the captain.
"We are lost men!" cried a sailor, rising in terror from the bench.
I screamed and saw the new ship, suddenly large, seem to lift itself in the water, and then heard the shattering splintering wreckage of wood and the loud swift swirl of water the ship struck and men screaming and saw the lines loose wild the yard and sail leaning awry the deck shifting and becoming steep and I couldn't stand and I lost my footing stumbling and seized a line, rolling on the deck, it fastened to the mast. The ship seemed then, for a moment, to right itself. The new ship had backed away from us, and seemed turning its prow away. Then the deck of the Jewel of Jad began to tilt toward the water, where we had been struck, the water pouring into the hold.
Men leaped from the ship into the water.
The ship then seemed again to right itself, but began to settle. I crouched, terrified, gripping the line by the mast. Suddenly I felt on my feet the cold water of Thassa. The deck was awash. The other ship moved away from us, like a silken sleen.
On the high deck the captain, alone, stood, his hand on the rail.
I looked about. The helmdeck was deserted, the benches empty. I heard a man scream from the water.
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p; Too, from afar, I heard signal horns.
The captain looked down, toward me. "There is no safety here," he said. "Release the line and flee to the water."
I shook my head. "No!" I said. "No!" I was terrified.
Suddenly he looked upon me, as a Gorean master. He began to descend from the high deck, toward me.
"Yes, Master!" I cried. I released the line and fled to the railing, and leaped into the water. I was a slave girl. I feared a Gorean master more than the water.
The water was greenish, and cold. I felt miserable. I went beneath the surface and then emerged.
"Come away from the ship," called a man.
I swam toward him. I was some yards from the sinking vessel when it slipped beneath the water. I was dragged back and submerged, but, in moments, I managed to regain the surface.
I could not see for the salt water in my eyes. It burned in my nostrils for a moment. I spit water out.
A hand seized me and pulled me to a piece of wreckage, some plankings from the ship's side.
"We will be picked up momentarily," said a man. There were some four men on the planking.
I could see other ships from the convoy. There were several about, converging upon us.
"Wait!" said one of the men. "They are turning about!"
"There are other ships!" cried another.
I stood up, unsteadily, on the boards. I could see, to be sure, that several of the convoy ships were turning about. Too, in the distance, between some of them, I could see other ships, approaching.
"The convoy," said one, "is under attack."
I saw the young officer in the water. He was assisting the captain of the Jewel of Jad. They found wreckage.
I saw a fin, long and white, suddenly cut the water. A ship passed near us, but it was one which flew the flag of Port Kar, a light galley. It did not pause for us. I saw a trail of smoke looping through the sky as a fire missile was launched from a ship's catapult. Far to our left we saw a galley aflame. It was one of Cos.
Signal horns could be heard.
Two longboats approached, lowered from one of the ships of the convoy. One of them picked up men from the water, and the captain and young officer. The other nosed toward us. The four men boarded the longboat.
I, too, made ready to board the longboat. I was stopped, and thrust back.
"We have no room for a slave," said one of the men.
"Please, Masters!" I begged.
I knelt on the planking. The yellow rep-cloth I wore was wet and thin, and clung close upon me. Gorean slave girls are commonly not permitted brassieres or undergarments.
"Please, Masters!" I begged.
They drew me into the boat.
I knelt between their feet, my head down, making myself small.
In a few moments we drew alongside the mothership and I, and the others, boarded her.
I was taken and put immediately in the hold. "A slave girl!" said a woman's voice. There was a tiny lamp. "Forgive me, Mistress," I said, and knelt. She mounted the stairs. "I will not share the hold with a slave girl!" she cried. "Be silent, Woman!" said an angry man, who was on the deck. She tried to move back the heavy hatch but it had been battened down. She came angrily back down the stairs. I did not dare to look at her. "Forgive me, Mistress," I begged. She paced back and forth. We had both been placed in the hold. We were both women.
I and the free woman, who did not deign to speak to me, remained many hours in the hold, as the fighting and maneuvering continued for several hours, through the afternoon and night. The lamp burned out and we remained in the darkness. Outside and above decks we could hear shouting, and the sound of sprung ropes, as the canisters of flaming pitch were lofted from the deck catapults. Once, late, we were partly sheared, losing several oars on the port side. A few moments later we had been boarded, but the boarders had been repelled.
After the repulsion of the boarders the hatch had been opened, briefly.
"The ship is secure, Lady," had said the captain. "I shall have food brought."
She had ascended the stairs, going to the deck. Behind her, unnoticed, I crept to the height of the stairs.
It was still dark. On deck there were dark lanterns. Sometimes, in the distance, I saw flares lofted from one ship or another, burning upward and then, their silken globelike chutes opening, burning steadily, descending, to settle into the water and be extinguished. Too, there was light on the water, to our left, from flaming ships.
"I will remain no longer in the hold," said the lady to the captain.
"I must insist," said he.
"No," she said.
"You will go below of your own free will," said he, "or I will have you put there, chained to the bottom of the steps."
"You would not dare!" she cried.
"Bring chains," he said.
"I shall comply with your wishes, Captain," she said, angrily, and descended the stairs. I slipped down before her. The hatch was again closed. It was opened in a few moments, and food and drink was brought. She did not share it with me.
I could tell when morning came as I could hear the men above changing the watch.
Then I fell asleep.
I was awakened by the free woman pounding on the hatch, demanding to be released.
That we had not been released led me to believe that there was still danger.
From what I could hear the convoy, as a whole, had maintained good discipline, and given a satisfactory account of itself. We were, apparently, now flanked by several other ships of the convoy.
Then we heard the cry of "Sail! Sail!" Once more the weary men scurried about the decks. We felt the ship shift as oars took the water. We heard the call of the oar master.
"They are coming again!" we heard. "They are coming again!"
We felt the ship come about.
"What happens," asked the free woman of me, "if we, below decks, are rammed?" It was the first time she had spoken to me.
"Perhaps, Mistress," I said, "someone will remember to open the hatch."
"But if not?" she asked.
"Let us hope they will not forget, Mistress," I said.
"We were boarded last night," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"If I had fallen into the hands of the enemy," she asked, "what would have been done to me?"
"You would have been declothed, unclothed, Mistress," I said.
"I do not understand," she said.
"Your clothing would have been removed," I said.
"My clothing removed?" she said. "I, disrobed?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Impossible!"
"I fear not, Mistress," I said. "But forgive me, Mistress. It is difficult for a girl to speak of such things before a free woman. Surely she might find them objectionable."
"No, no," she said. "Speak clearly. This is important. I must understand."
"As Mistress commands," I said. "If the ship is taken, Mistress will be taken with the ship. She will be among its loot, its prizes. The men will help her to understand this by removing her clothing, fully. They would strip Mistress."
"What a vulgar word!"
I was silent. The word did not seem vulgar to me. It seemed to me clear, unambiguous and decisively apt. Considering what was involved and how it would be done, it seemed more straightforward and honest than less candid or more circuitous expressions, enveiling euphemisms. The abruptness and simplicity of its sound suggested the abruptness and simplicity, the rudeness and irresistibility, the meaningfulness and completeness, of the act. Perhaps free women might be disrobed; slaves were stripped. To be sure, if the free woman were captured then she, as a capture, would doubtless not be disrobed, so to speak, but would be stripped, as might be a slave. This might be a useful lesson for her. I almost found myself hoping that my haughty holdmate might find herself stripped. Let her know what it was to be made so before men, to be before males as they, the men, wished her.