by John Norman
Samos, and many of the others, looked at me, quickly.
"Abstention," recorded the scribe.
I saw no reason, at the moment, to commit myself to the programs of Samos and the council. It seemed clear to me that his proposals would be accepted. Moreover, I regarded them as presumably in my best interest. But, by abstaining, my intentions and allegiances might perhaps remain usefully ambiguous. The abstention, it seemed to me, might well give me a wider eventual latitude of action. Besides, I told myself, it was still rather early to determine on which curule chairs the tarns of power might alight.
As I thought it would, the group of proposals set before the council by Samos passed overwhelmingly. There were some absentions, and some nays, perhaps from those who feared the power of one or another of the Ubars, but the decision on the whole was clear, a devastating of the claims of the Ubars and the, in effect, enthronement of the council of captains as the sovereign of the city. The council met late that night, and much business was conducted. Even before dawn walls were being reaised about the holdings of Henrius Sevarius, and his wharves were being blockaded with ships of the arsenal, while large watches were being maintained on the holdings of the other four Ubars. Several committees were formed, usually headed by scribes but reporting to the council, to undertake various studies pertaining to the city, particularly of a military and commercial nature. One of these studies was to be a census of ships and captains, the results of which were to be private to the council. Other studies, the results of which would be kept similarly private to the council, dealt with the city defenses, and her stores of wood, grain, salt, stone and tharlarion oil. Also considered, though nothing was determined that night, were matters of taxation, the unification and revision of the codes of the five Ubars, the establishment of council courts, replacing those of the Ubars, and the acquistion of a sizable number of men-at-arms, who would be directly responsible to the council itself, in effect, a small council police or army. Such a body of men, it might be noted, though restricted in numbers and limited in jurisdiction, already existed in the arsenal. The arsenal guard, presumably, would become a branch of the newly formed council guard, if such became a reality. It is true, of course, that the council already controlled a large number of ships and crews, but it must be remembered that these forces were naval in nature; the council already had its navy; the events of the afternoon had demonstrated that it would be well if it had also at its disposal a small, permanent, dependable, rapidly deployable infantry. One might not always be able to count on the rallying of the men of individual captains to protect the council, as had been the case this afternoon. Besides, if teh council were to become truly sovereign in Port Kar, as it had proclaimed itself, it seemed essential that it should soon have its own military forces within the city. One other incident of that council meeting I shall mention.
It was shortly past daybreak, and the gray light of Port Kar's dawn was filtering in through the high, narrow windows of the council of captains. I had taken the note which I had received the preceding afternoon from my wallet, that which had purported to be from Samos, which he had denied sending. Bemused, I had burned it in the tiny flame of the candle on the table near me, now little more than a twig of wick in a puddle of clear, melted wax, and then I had, with the plam of my hand, snuffed out the tiny flame. It was day.
"I suspect," Samos was saying, "that Cos and Tyros are implicated in the attempted coup of the House of Sevarius."
I myself would not have been surprised if this had been true.
His words received grunts of affirmation from the assembled captains. It seemed they, too, had their suspicions. Surely it did not seem likely that Sevarius would have moved if he had not been assured, at some point, of the support of the power of Cos and Tyros.
"Myself," Samos went on, "I am weary of war with Cos and Tyros." the captains looked at one another.
"Now that the council is sovereign in Port Kar," Samos said, his fist clenched on the arm of his curule chair, "might not peach be possible?"
This puzzled me.
I saw one or two of the captains reaise their heads from the arms of their curule chairs.
One captain, leaning back in his curule chair, said, "There has always been war between Port Kar, and Cos and Tyros."
I did not expect these remarks from Samos. I was curious to know his motivation, his plan.
"As you know," said Samos, speaking evenly, "Port Kar is not the most loved, nor the most greatly respected nor the highest honored among the cities of Gor." There was rough laughter at this.
"Have we not been misunderstood?" he asked.
There was an unpleasant undercurrent of amusement which greeted his question. I myself smiled. Port Kar, I told myself, was only too well understood bu the other cities of Gor.
"Consider our trade," said Samos. "Would it not be trebled if we were accounted, among Gorean cities, a city of love, of peace?"
There was a guffaw of laughter at this, and men pounded the arms of the curule chairs. There were none now in that room who were not awake. I saw even the pages and scribes laughed, poking one another.
When there was silence, it was suddenly, unexpectedly, broken by the voice of Bejar, the dark-skinned captain with the long, straight hair. He said simply, answering the question of Samos, "It would."
Then the room was very silent. And I think there were noe then in that room who did not hold his breath for that moment, to hear the words of Samos. "It is my proposal," said Samos, "that the council approach Cos and Tyros, offering terms of peace."
"No!" came the cry from the assembled captains. "No!"
When the tumult had subsided, Samos spoke, softly. "Of course," said Samos, "our terms will be rejected."
The captains looked at one another in puzzlement, and then they began to smile, and then several laughed.
I smiled to myself. Samos was indeed a shrewd man. The facade of magnanimity would indeed be a valuable posseession for a maritime Ubarate. Further, men might be willing to believe Port Kar now other than she had been, that the coming to power of the council would have reformed her. And what better gesture than this mission of peace to the hereditary enemies Cos and Tyros? If the burden of maintaining the conflict were clearly on them, it was possible that allies of theirs might be influenced to diminish or, perhaps, withdraw their support, or, perhaps pledge it even to Port Kar. And there were undeclared ports and cities to consider. Surely these might then be dissuaded from becoming allies of Cos and Tyros, and perhaps might be inclined to offer their services to Port Kar? At the very least, the ships of Port Kar might, in such a situation, become suddenly welcome in ports that had hitherto been closed to them. And who knew what trading ships might make their way to Port Kar, if they thought her a fair and honest city? The estimate of Samos, taht such a gesture on Port Kar's part might eventually result in a trebling of her trade, seemed to me possibly conservative.
"What if the offer of peace is accepted?" I asked Samos.
The captains looked at me, dumbfounded. Some laughed. But most looked then to Samos.
"I do not think it likely," said Samos, smiling.
Several of the captains then laughed.
"But," I asked, "if it is?"
Samos scowled, and then his clear gray eyes met mine, but without emotion. I could not read his heart. Then he smiled, and spread his hands. "Then," said he, "it is accepted."
"And," I asked, "Do we abide by their acceptance? Would there then be truly peace between Port Kar, and Cos and Tyros?"
"That," smiled Samos, "may always be taken under consideration at a future meeting of the council."
There was rough laughter at this.
"The time is opportune," said Samos, "to offer peace to Cos and Tyros. For one thing, the Council has newly come to power. For another, I have learned from spies that this very week the Ubar of Tyros visits Cos."
The captains muttered angrily. It did not bode well for Port Kar that the Ubar of Tyros should voyage to Cos. M
ore than the Ubar of Tyros should voyage to Cos. More than ever it now seemed possible, or probable, that the two island Ubarates might well be conspiring against Port Kar. Why else should there be a meeting of the two Ubars? Generally, there was almost as little love lost between them as between them and the Ubars of Port Kar.
"Then," said one of the captains, "they must intend to bring their fleets against us."
"Perhaps," said Samos, "members of a mission of peace might learn such matters." There was a grunt of agreement from the captains.
"What of your spies," I asked, "who seem so well informed? Surely, if they can learn the itineraries of the Ubar of Tyros, it must be difficult to conceal from them a gathering of the fleets of two such powers as Cos and Tyros?" The hand of Samos went instinctively to the hilt of his weapon, but then he closed his hand and slowly placed the fist on the arm of his curule chair. "You speak quickly," he said, "for one who is new to the Council of Captains." "More quickly than you choose to answer, it seems, Noble Samos," said I. I wondered what the interess of Samos in Cos and Tyros might be.
Samos spoke slowly. I saw that he did not care to speak. "The fleets of Cos and Tyros," he said, "have not yet gathered."
If he had known this, I asked myself, why had he not spoken before? "Perhaps," I asked, "Samos will propose that we now withdraw our patrols from Thassa?"
Samos looked at me, and the look was as cold and hard as Gorean steel. "No," he said, "I would not propose that."
"Excellent," I said.
The captains looked at one another.
"Let there be peace in the council," said the scribe behind the great table, taht before the now-empty five thrones of the Ubars of Port Kar.
"I have less interest in piracy, I gather, than many of my collaegues," I said. "Since my interests are substantially in commerce I, for one, would welcome peace with Cos and Tyros. It seems not unlikely to me that these two powers may well be weary of war, as Samos informs us he is. If that is true, it seems they may well accept an honorable peace. Such a peace would, I note, open the ports of Tyros and Cos, and their allies and others, to my ships, and of course, to yours. Peace, my captains, might well prove profitable." I regarded Samos. "If an offer of peace is to be made to Cos and Tyros," I said, "it is my hope that it would be genuine."
Samos looked at me strangely. "It would be genuine," he said.
The captains murmured among themselves. I myself was taken aback.
"Bosk," said Samos to the group, "speaks well the advantages of peace. Let us consider his words with care, and favorably. I think there are few of us here who are not more fond of gold than blood."
There was some laughter at this.
"If peace was made," challenged Samos, "which of you would not keep it?" He looked from man to man. To my surprise none denied that he would keep the peace, were it made.
It then seemed to me, so simply, that there was for the first time the possibility of peace of Thassa, among her three major Ubarates.
Somehow, suddenly, I believed Samos.
I was astonished but it was my sensing of the group that, if peace were made, Port Kar would keep it.
There had been war for so long.
None laughed.
I sat numb in the great curule chair, that of a captain of Port Kar. I regarded Samos, wondering of him. He was a strange man, that larl of a man. I could not read him.
"Of course," said Samos, "the offer of peace will be rejected."
The captains looked at one another, and grinned. I realized I was again in Port Kar.
"We will need one to carry the offer of peace to Cos, where he may now find joint audience with the Ubars of both Cos and Tyros," said Samos.
I was scarcely listening now.
"It should be one," Samos was saying, "who has the rank of captain, and who is a member of the council inself, that the authenticity of the offer shall thus be made manifest."
I found myself in agreement with this.
"Further," said Samos, "it should be one who has proved that he can take action, and who has in the past well served the council."
I scratched with my fingernail in the wax, breaking up the bits of charred paper that had bee the note I had burned in the candle flame. The wax was now yellow and hard. It was something past daybreak now, and I was tired. They gray light now filled the room.
"And," Samos was saying, "it must be one who is not afraid to speak, one who is worthy representative of the council."
I wondered if Samos himself might be tired. It seemed to me he was saying very little now.
"And," Samos went on, "it should preferably be one who is not well known to Cos and Tyros, one who has not angered them, nor proven himself to them as blood enemy upon gleaming Thassa."
Suddenly I seemed awake, quite, and apprehensive. And then I smiled. Samos was no fool. He was senior captain of the Council of Captains. He had marked me, and would be done with me.
"Aand such a one," said Samos, "is Bosk — he who came from the marshes. Let it be he who carries peace on behalf of the council to Cos and Tyros. Let it be Bosk!"
There was silence.
I was pleased at the silence. I had not realized until then that I was valued in the council of captains.
Antisthenes spoke, who had been first on the roll of captains. "I do not think it should be a captain," he said. "To send a captain is equivalent to sentencing him to the bench of a slave on the round ships of Cos or Tyros."
There was some muttered assent to this.
"Further," said Antisthenes, "I would recommend that we do not even send one who wears the twin ropes of Port Kar. There are merchants of other cites, voyagers and captains, known to us, who will, for their fees, gladly conduct this business."
"Let it be so," said various voices throughout the chamber of the council. Then all looked at me.
I smiled. "I am, of course, highly honored," I began, "that Noble Samos should think me, that he should nominate me, doubtless the lowliest of the captains here assembled, for a post of such distinction, that of bearing the peace of Port Kar to her hereditary enemies Cos and Tyros."
The captains looked at one another, grinning.
"Then you decline?" asked Samos.
"It only seems to me," said I, "that so signal an honor, and a role so weighty, ought to be reserved for one more august than I, indeed, for he who is most prominent among us, one who could truly negotiate on equal footing with the Ubars of powers so mighty as those of Cos and Tyros."
"Do you have a nomination?" asked the scribe at the center table.
"Samos," I said.
There was laughter among the chairs.
"I am grateful for your nomination," said Samos, "but I scarcely think, in these troubled times, it behooves he who is senior captain of the council to leave the city, voyaging abroad in search of peace when war itself looms at home." "He is right," said Bejar.
"Then you decline?" I asked Samos.
"Yes," said Samos, "I decline."
"Let us not send a captain," said Antisthenes. "Let us send one who is from Ar or Thentis, who can speak for us."
"Antisthenes is wise," I said, "and understands the risks involved, but many of the words Samos has addresssed to us seem to me sound and true, and chief among them his aassertion that it should be a captain who conducts this mission, for how else could we so easily prove the seriousness of our intentions, if not to Cos and Tyros, then to their allies and to undeclared port and cites on the islands and coasts of gleaming Thassa, and to those communites inland as well, with whom we might well improve our trade?"
"But," said Bejar, "who among us will go?"
There was laughter in the council.
When it was silent, I said, "I, Bosk, might go."
The captains regared one another.
"Did you not decline?" asked Samos.
"No," I smiled, "I only suggested that one more worthy than myself undertake so weighty a task."
"Do not go," said Antisthenes.
&n
bsp; "What is your price?" asked Samos.
"A galley," I said, "a ram-ship, heavy class."
I had no such ship.
"It will be yours," said Samos.
"— if you can return to claim it," muttered a captain, darkly.
"Do not go," said Antisthenes.
"He will have, of course," said Samos, "the immunity of the herald." The captains said nothing.
I smiled.
"Do not go, Bosk, Captain," said Antisthenes.
I already had a plan. Had I not had one, I should not have volunteered. The possibility of peace on Thassa was an attractive one to me, a merchant. If Cos and Tyros could be convinced to make peace, and it could be held, my fortunes would considerably increase. Cos and Tyros themselves are important markets, not to mention their allies, and the ports and cities either affiliated with Cos and Tyros, or favorable to them. Further, even if my mission failed, I would be richer by a galley, and that a ram-ship of heavy class, the most redoubtalbe naval weapon on gleaming Thassa. There were risks, of course, but I had taken them into account. I would not go as a fool to Cos and Tyros.
"And," I said, "as escort, I will require five ram-ships from the arsenal, of medium or heavy class, to be captained and crewed by men selected by myself." "Whic ships," asked Samos, "are returned to the arsenal upon the completion of your mission?"
"Of course," I said.
"You shall have them," said Samos.
We looked at one another. I asked myself if Samos throught he was so easily rid of me, one who might challenge him, senior captain, in the council of captains of Port Kar. Yes, I said to myself, he thinks he is so easily rid of me. I smiled to myself. I myself did not believe he was.
"Do not go, Bosk, Captain," pleaded Antisthenes.
I rose to my feet. "Antisthenes, Captain, " I said, "I am grateful for your concern." I shook my head, and stretched. And then I turned to the captains of the tiers. "You may continue your business now without me," I said. "I am going to return to my holding. The night has been long, and I have lost much sleep." I gathered up my cloak, and my helmet, it was the captain's crest of sleen hair, and left the chamber.