Explorers of Gor coc-13

by John Norman

  “Surely,” said Ayari.

  “Our only hope,” said the man to my left, “is a victory by the forces of Kisu.”

  “Five days ago” said Ayari, “the askaris went east to engage him in battle.”

  “Perhaps, by now,” said the man to my left, “the battle has taken place.”

  “No,” I said. “It is surely too soon.”

  “Why?” asked Ayari.

  “Kisu is severely outnumbered,” I said. “He would maneuver for position. He would choose his time of battle with great care.”

  “Unless it were forced upon him,” said Ayari.

  “How could that be?” I asked.

  “Do not underestimate the efficiency of the askaris of Bila Huruma,” said Ayari.

  “You speak,” I said. “as though they were professional warriors, under astute generalship, skilled in scouting, in flanking and cutting off retreats.”

  “Listen!” said Ayari. He held up his hand.

  “I hear it,” I said. “Can you make it out?”

  “Quiet!” said Ayari. “I am listening.”

  It was only some two pasangs away, ahead of us, and nearing us. But, in a moment its message was taken up from behind us, some four pasangs down the workway, west, leading toward Ushindi. It would then, swiftly, station to station, be transmitted back to the grass palace of Bila Huruma.

  “The forces of Kisu have been met in battle and defeated.” said Ayari. “That is the message of the drum.”

  Askaris about us were lifting their weapons over their heads and shouting with pleasure.

  Behind us, further down the workway, too, men were shouting with pride, many lifting their shovels.

  “Look!” said Ayari.

  I could see the craft now. It was a shallow-drafted, dismasted dhow. It was being drawn by dozens of men, wading in the marsh, pulling on ropes. They wore slave collars. They were chained together, in groups of eight or ten, by the neck. Askaris, some wading, some in canoes, flanked them. The askaris were jubilant, resplendent in their skins and feathers, with their golden necklaces and armlets, their narrow, tufted shields and short-handled stabbing spears. On the foredeck of the dhow there was mounted a log drum. On this, methodically, an askari drummer, with two long sticks, was heating out, again and again, the message of victory. Many askaris, too, rode the dhow, mostly officers, judging from the arrangements of their gold and feathers, for it is by these things, serving as insignia, that their rankings to those who could read them, as I could not, were made clear. Behind the dhow, some wading and others in canoes, came more than a thousand askaris. In place of the mast on the dhow, mounted in the mast socket, was a “T” frame with a small crossbar mounted on the vertical beam. On this “T” frame a man was chained. His arms were placed over and behind the horizontal bar of the frame, his hands chained together, the chain running before his body, holding him to the frame. His feet had been positioned on the small crossbar. His ankles were also chained, a loop of chain holding them close to the vertical beam. He was a large man, with tattooing. He had apparently been wounded and, surely, had been much beaten. I thought that he might be dead but, as the dhow came closer, I saw him, possibly revived by the shouting and noise, raise his head. He then straightened his body and, as he could, stood proudly, head high, surveying us, on the frame.

  The askaris pointed their spears at him, and turned to us, and shouted.

  There was no mistaking the name they cried, “Kisu!” they cried. “Kisu! Kisu!”

  “It is Kisu,” said Ayari.

  17. Msaliti Has Formed A Plan

  The white slave girls, nude, toweled my body.

  “Away,” said Msaliti, sharply. They fled away, their bare feet pattering on the woven mats of my quarters, within that gigantic compound that constituted the palace of Bila Huruma.

  “These robes,” said Msaliti, indicating robes spread upon the couch, “will be found suitable for an ambassador of Teletus.” He then indicated a small chest at the couch’s foot. “Those gifts, too,” he said, “will appear seemly from one interested in negotiating a commercial treaty with one of the stature of Bila Huruma.”

  I slipped on a tunic.

  “Why could you not apprehend Shaba at the banks?” I asked.

  “He never cashed the notes,” said Msaliti.

  I looked at him.

  “He feared to do so?” I asked.

  “We were tricked,” said Msaliti. “He signed the notes over to Bila Huruma, and it was agents of the Ubar himself, who cashed them.”

  “Twenty thousand tarns of gold,” I said.

  “The money,” said Msaliti, in fury, “is being invested in the formation of a fleet of a hundred ships, fully fitted and supplied, and crewed by fifty men each. These ships are being specifically built to be sectioned and rejoinable, to make possible their portage about difficult areas. Our money, that which we paid for the ring, is being used to outfit an expedition for the exploration of the Ua!”

  “That is a venture,” I said, “surely of interest to both a geographer, such as Shaba, and a Ubar, such as Bila Huruma.”

  “I thought he wanted the gold for himself!” said Msaliti.

  “Gold is perhaps of less interest to him than glory,” I said.

  “He will not get away with it,” said Msaliti. “We will recover the ring.”

  “It will take time to prepare such ships,” I said.

  “The work commenced, months ago,” said Msaliti.

  “Surely this could not have been unknown to you,” I said. “The work was done in the shipyards of Ianda,” he said. “I had heard rumors of such a project but did not understand the nature of the ships or that this ubarate was involved. But now the ships are already moving upstream on the Nyoka.”

  “It seems,” I said, “that Bila Huruma does not take you into his full confidence.”

  “He is a secretive man,” said Msaliti.

  “Perhaps it is fortunate for him that he does not fully trust you.”

  “Surely the hand of Shaba may be seen in this,” said Msaliti.

  “Doubtless,” I said.

  “Of those in these lands,” said Msaliti, “only you and I, and Shaba, know of the ring.”

  “I gather that you now know the whereabouts of Shaba,” I said.

  “He is here, the bold rascal,” said Msaliti, “in this very palace, living openly, protected by Bila Huruma.”

  “He is a courageous fellow,” I said.

  “He thinks he has little to fear,” said Msaliti.

  “What is your plan?” I asked.

  “Bila Huruma, this very morning,” said he, “holds court. You, in the guise of an ambassador of Teletus, will bring forward gifts for his viewing. I will do the speaking. You need do little or nothing. Almost no one present will be able to understand Gorean. I will explain that the details of your proposal for a commercial treaty will be discussed with the appropriate wazir, and presented later for approval.”

  “In short,” I said, “it will appear little more than an official greetings exchanged between governments.”

  “That would be appropriate at this stage of negotiation,” said Msaliti.

  “Very well,” I said. “But what do you have further in mind?”

  “Shaba, as one close to Bila Huruma, will be present in the court,” he said. “You will attack Shaba and slay him. I will then have you placed under arrest by askaris. I will obtain the ring from the body of Shaba, and you, later, by arrangement, will be permitted to escape. I will pay you a hundred tarns of gold and I myself will then return the ring to the beasts.”

  “Bila Huruma will not connect my attack with you in any way?” I asked.

  “Presumably not,” said Msaliti. “I must remain in the clear, you understand.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Why do you not hire just any assassin to do this thing?” I asked.

  “You are a fellow agent of Kurii,” he said. “You seem an ideal choice.”

  “Of course,” I said.


  “I think I may trust you,” he said.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “You have had a taste of the canal,” he said.

  “If I am not fully cooperative,” I said, “you will return me to the rogues’ chain?”

  “I have that power,” he said.

  “Permit me to don the robes of an ambassador of Teletus,” I said.

  “Certainly,” said he.

  18. What Occurred When Court Was Held In The Palace Of Grass; I Meet Bila Huruma; A New Plan Must Be Formed

  “Do you have the dagger?” whispered Msaliti to me.

  “Surely,” I said, “in the sleeve sheath.”

  He then left my side. There were more than two hundred individuals in the great court, both men and women, of high station, and certain commoners with causes to plead. Too, there were guards, and chieftains, and envoys. The robes were generally of animal skin, some marvelously marked. There was much gold and silver jewelry. Anklets and wristlets of feathers were common. The hair of the men and women was worn in a variety of fashions. Too, there were ornate headdresses in evidence, usually of skins and feathers. In the lips of some of the men were brass plugs. Facial tattooing, in various designs, was common. The opulence and color of the court of Bila Huruma was quite impressive. I was sure that it would have shamed the display and pageantry of many Ubars in the north. There were various racial types represented in the court, almost all black. I was the only white present. There were some brown fellows from Bazi, though, and one of the attending physicians was oriental. Even among very similar black types there was variety in hair style and tattooing, and dress, which I took as evidence of cultural or tribal difference. One of the difficulties in the ubarate of Bila Huruma was this sort of racial and tribal heterogeneity. Fortunately most of these people, generally all from the Ushindi region, spoke closely related dialects. This heterogeneity was surely a challenge to the ubarate of Bila Huruma and that his government was as stable as it was said as much, I think, for the intelligence of his governance as for the ruthlessness of his policies and the indomitability of his will.

  When I entered the court Bila Huruma had just finished accepting the reports of his officers on the battle with the forces of Kisu. This battle, interestingly, had occurred in the marshes well west of Ngao, indeed, only a few pasangs from the work lines. Kisu, with his small handful of men, as it turned out, incredibly enough, had been marching on Bila Huruma. So bravely and pathetically might an ant have attacked a giant. I hack no doubt as to the courage of Kisu; I was less confident, however, that he had the common sense and wisdom expected of a Mfalme.

  Some of these officers presented men before him who were then commended for their deeds in the recent action.

  Rings of gold and now insignia of rank, feathers and necklaces, were distributed.

  Once Bila Huruma lifted his hand and said, “Good.” The soldier then commended would then, I think, rather have died than betray Bila Huruma. Such small things, I think, may be scorned by those who do not understand the nature of war or men, and be seen as manipulative and laughable., and yet such a small commendation, when warranted and sincere, is worth more to some men than the material treasures that might move those who hold themselves their superiors. Let each man choose his own treasures. The cynical, mercantile mind will never understand the mind of the soldier. The soldier has stood with comrades in arms, and held. I do not think he would exchange that for the contemptuous pretense to wisdom of those whom he protects, who would scorn him. He has maintained his post. But perhaps some, even those who have never marched in the mud, with comrades, singing. on a clear and windy morning, a spear upon their shoulder, can understand this. Why does the nibbling urt chatter and laugh at the larl? Is it because he himself is not a larl, or is it because he fears its paw?

  I looked up at the high, conical ceiling, of interwoven branches and grass, of the court of Bila Huruma. It was some seventy feet over my head. The room itself, a great round room, was a hundred feet in width.

  Msaliti again slipped to my side. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Bila Huruma was then hearing cases at law, selected for his attention.

  Perhaps one day the warrior in man would die, and, with him, the fighter, the wanderer, the wonderer, the explorer, the adventurer, the rover, the doer and hoper. The days of the lonely ones, the walkers, and seekers, would then be at an end. Men might then become, as many wished, as cattle and flowers, and be free to spend their days in placid grazing, until they died beneath the distant, burning, unsought suns.

  But it was difficult to know what the mists of the morning would bring.

  I contented myself with the thought that deeds had been done, which now, whether recollected or not, or however viewed, were irrevocably fixed in their fullness and truth in the fabric of eternity. They had been. Nothing, nothing ever, could change that. The meaning of history lies not in the future but in the moment. It is never anywhere but within our grasp. And if the history of man, terminated, should turn out to have been but a brief flicker in the midst of unnoticing oblivions let it at least have been worthy of the moment in which it burned. But perhaps it would prove to be a spark which would, in time, illuminate a universe.

  It is difficult to know what the mists of the morning may. bring.

  Much depends upon what man is.

  Much depends upon what he shall decide himself to be.

  “Are you ready?” pressed Msaliti.

  “Yes, yes,” I said. “I am quite ready for what I intend to do.”

  He then again left my side. I could see Shaba in the group of people near Bila Huruma.

  His first case dealt with a widow who had been defrauded by a creditor. The fellow was dragged screaming from the court. His hands would be cut off, as those of a common thief. His properties were to be confiscated and divided, half to the widow and half, predictably, to the state.

  The next fellow was an actual thief, a mere boy, who had stolen vegetables. It turned out that he had been hungry and had actually begged work in the gardens of his victim. “No one who wants to work in my ubarate,” said Bila Huruma, “will go hungry.” He then directed that the boy be given work, if he wished, in his own gardens, which were considerable. I supposed that if one did not wish to work, one might well expect to starve. Bila Huruma, I conjectured, was not one to be patient with laggards. Fairness is a central thesis of sound governance.

  Two murderers were next brought to him for sentencing. The first, a commoner, had slain a boatsman from Schendi. The second, an askari, had killed another askari. The commoner was ordered to have his fingers cut off and then be put upon a tharlarion pole in Lake Ushindi. That his fingers be removed was accounted mercy on the part of Bila Huruma, that he be able to cling less long to the pole and his miseries be the sooner terminated. He had slain not one of the domain of Bila Huruma but one of Schendi. His crime, thus, was regarded as the less heinous. The askari was ordered to be speared to death by one of his own kin. In this fashion his honor would be protected and there would be no beginning of a possible blood feud between families. The askari petitioned, however, to be permitted to die instead fighting the enemies of the ubarate. This petition was denied on the grounds that he had, by slaying his comrade, not permitted this same privilege to him. This judgment was accepted unquestioningly by the askari. “But am I not of my own kin, my Ubar?” he asked. “Yes,” had said Bila Huruma. He was taken outside. He would be given a short-handled stabbing spear and would be permitted to throw himself upon it.

  The next fellow had lied about his taxes. He would be hung, a hook through his tongue, in a market. His properties were to be confiscated and distributed, half to be given to members of his village and half to the state. It was conjectured that, when he was removed from the pole, if he were still alive, he would be more careful in his accounts.

  From outside I heard the cry of the askari. He had performed upon himself the justice of Bila Huruma.
/>   The next to appear before Bila Huruma were two members of the nobility, a man and his companion.. He complained of her that she had been unwilling to please him. By one word and a stroke of his hand between them Bila Huruma dissolved their companionship. He then ordered that the man be put in the dress of a woman and beaten from the court with sticks. This was done. He then ordered that the woman be stripped and a vine leash be put on her neck. She was then sentenced to a barrack of askaris for a year, that she might learn how to please men.

  Kisu, the rebel, in chains, was then dragged before Bila Huruma. He was thrown upon his knees. He was sentenced to the canal, to be put upon the rogues’ chain, that he might now, at last, well serve his sovereign, Bila Huruma. Kisu, kept on his knees, was then dragged to one side. Next to approach Bila Huruma was Mwoga, ambassador of the villages of Ukungu, representative of the high chief, Aibu, who had organized the chiefs of Ukungu against Kisu, and deposed him. He presented gifts, skins and feathers, and brass rings and the teeth of tharlarion, to Bila Huruma, and swore to him the fealty of the Ukungu villages. Too, to seal the bonds of these political bargains, he, on behalf of Aibu, offered to Bila Huruma the very daughter of the high chief, Aibu, him self, a girl named Tende, as one of his companions.

  “Is she beautiful?” asked Bila Huruma.

  “Yes,” responded Mwoga.

  Bila Huruma shrugged. “It does not matter,” he said. I supposed it did not matter. There were doubtless many womens’ courts in his house. He had, I had heard, already more than two hundred companions, not to mention perhaps twice the number of slave girls, captures, purchases and gifts. If the body of Tende appealed to him he could get heirs upon it. If it did not, he could forget her, leaving her neglected, a sequestered souvenir of state, another girl lost in one of the womens’ courts in the palace.

  “May I address our prisoner?” inquired Mwoga.

  “Yes,” said Bila Huruma.

  “Is Tende not beautiful?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said Kisu, “and she is as proud and cold as she is beautiful.”