I saw a fellow bend down from one of the small craft and lift water to his mouth, and drink. This, like the fin of the marsh shark, earlier, told me we were still far from the gulf. It was perhaps as much as four or five hundred pasangs away. I wondered if these men of Ar knew how fortunate they were. At this point in the delta, east of the tidal marshes, the water was still drinkable.
"Ai!" cried the fellow behind me, with the paddle. More water swirled up through the rence of our small craft. The water was now over our calves. I did not think the small craft would last another day. Normally a rence craft will last weeks, even months. Ours had begun to deteriorate in days. I did not think this was inexplicable. About us, too, many men were already wading, some clinging to the sides of rafts and small boats.
"Glory to Ar!" cried a fellow.
"Glory to Ar!" called others.
8
The Pursuit has Continued
"I would speak with your officer," I said to the fellow, he tethering my ankles to a stake.
"I have spoken to him," said he. "Such permission has not been granted."
I was then thrust back to the sand. Another fellow then put the rope on my neck, that I might be again affixed, bound, between two stakes.
"You know something of the delta, do you not?" asked the fellow who had tethered my ankles, standing near me, looking down at me.
"Something of it," I said. I had once come to Port Kar through the delta.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Only a rencer would know, if he," I said.
"We are well within the delta," he said.
"Yes," I said, "two or three hundred pasangs."
"Further," said he.
"Perhaps," I said. That could be true.
"Where are your fellows, the Cosian sleen!" he suddenly cried.
I was silent.
"Do not expect to be fed," he snarled.
"There is little enough to feed anyone," said a fellow, wearily, nearby.
The delta, of course, is teeming with wildlife. To be sure, the men of Ar, in their numbers, in their haste, with the relentlessness of their pursuit, only lately slowed, had not been in a position to take advantage of it. Too, the disturbance of their passage, given the noise, the splashing and such, had doubtless driven much of the normal game, particularly birds and fish, from the area.
"He is to be kept alive," said one of the men.
"Very well," said the first fellow. "I am sure we can find him something to eat, something delicious, something fit for a spy." He looked down at me, in hate. He fingered the hilt of the dagger at his belt. "But not tonight," he said.
He turned away from me.
"How could we not have yet closed with the sleen of Cos?" asked a fellow.
"In the delta, one could hide a dozen armies," said another.
"Surely we would see some signs of them," said another fellow.
"Yes," said another. "How is it that we have seen no signs of them?"
"We have seen signs of them," growled another.
"Yes," said another.
I doubted that this was true.
9
The Barge
"Move ahead," said the fellow in the bow of the small rence craft.
I struggled forward, pressing against the water, up to my chest, stumbling, pushing through rence, the rope on my neck going back to the small craft. My hands were now manacled behind me. For the purpose of comfort, I much preferred this to rope. That thoughtfulness had not been, of course, the motivation of my captors. Rather they wished, now that my hands were not in view, to be assured as to my continued helplessness. Perhaps rope might be worked free, or slipped, somehow, unseen, beneath the surface. The metal, on the other hand, would hold me well. I did not object. I, too, were our positions reversed, would presumably have taken similar precautions. I did not know who held the key.
My head went briefly under the water, and then, coughing, I struggled again to the surface. There are many such irregularities in the bottom. Rence cut at my face. I spit water.
"Move! Pull!" I heard behind me.
I turned my head to the side, that the rope would draw against the side of my neck. I struggled to tow the small craft. It was hard to paddle now, being heavy, the rence soaked with water. I had been put before it, the rope on my neck, this morning, wading, that it need not bear my weight. In this fashion it might last another day or two.
"Hurry, pull, lazy sleen!" I heard. The bow of the craft came beside my shoulder, the rope dropping back in the water. The fellow there thrust out, striking me in the back with the paddle. I stumbled. I regained my balance. I then struggled ahead again, through the rence.
I nearly cried out. Something under the water, moving, had touched my leg.
Nearby was a barge, one of the larger craft in our makeshift flotilla, carrying perhaps fifty men. It was poled by ten men to a side, working in shifts. Some other fellows, with their helmets, cast water out of it. Other men clung to its stern.
I could not see far from the water, but there were men and small boats, rafts and such, all about.
I was not the only fellow in the water. There were many there. Most of these fellows were in long lines. In this fashion, the first fellow can mark out footing for those who follow and each man can keep his eye on the fellow before him. Too, a small craft would normally bring up the rear of such lines.
A rence craft floundered near us, settling in the water.
"Pull, sleen," ordered the man behind me.
Again I struggled to move the small craft forward.
"Had I a whip," he cried, "you would move faster!"
"Leech!" I said. "Leech!" I could feel it on my back. It was large. It may have been what had touched me in the water. I could not reach it with my chained hands.
"Help!" I heard. "Help!"
I turned about and saw a fellow several yards back, to one side, his eyes wild with horror, lift his hands. "I cannot move!" he cried. "I sink!" He had sought a shallower course. There are many such, here and there. The water there had come only to his knees. But as I watched he had sunk to his waist.
"Quicksand!" said another fellow.
A spear was extended to the first fellow and he seized it, eagerly, desperately, the water now about his neck, and was drawn free.
"Stay in line!" chided an officer.
But the fellow, I think, uttering accessions, covered with sand, needed no further encouragement. He swiftly, gratefully, took his place in one of the long lines.
The loss of men to quicksand was rare now, given the lines. In the first days in the delta over two hundred men had been lost, in one case an entire platoon. Several others, unaccounted for, may also have been victims of the treacherous sand.
"Move," called the fellow behind me.
"On my back," I said, "I can feel it! A leech! Take it off!"
"You can be covered with them, spying sleen," snarled the man, "for all I care."
"I ask that it be removed," I said.
"Do not fear," said the fellow. "They are only hungry. When they have their fill, they will drop off."
"Here is another," said a fellow wading near me, holding up its wet, half-flattened, twisting body in his hand. It was some four inches long, a half inch thick.
"There are probably a great many of them here," said the fellow, dropping it back in the water.
I shuddered.
"Do not approach the boat," warned the fellow behind me.
I shuddered again. I felt another such creature on my leg, high, in the back.
"Ho, hold!" cried a man, high on a platform, set on the bow of one of the barges. He could, from that coign of vantage, look over the rence. "There!" he cried. "A covered barge, ahead!" An officer climbed up beside him. He shaded his eyes. "Yes, lads," he called down. "A barge! Not one of ours! We are on them now!"
There were cheers, from perhaps a thousand voices.
"Forward, lads!" cried other officers. "Forward!"
Men pressed forward.
I could hear cheers from far behind me now, so swiftly had the word spread through the rence.
"There," cried the man behind me. "The pursuit draws to a close. The vengeance of Ar is at hand!"
My neck was sore.
"Now soon, sleen," gloated he, "will you see your Cosian masters beneath our blades!"
I stood unsteadily in the water. I could feel the leeches on my body, one on my back, another on my leg. Then, shuddering, I felt yet another. It was fastening itself near the first, on my back.
"Pull," ordered the fellow behind me.
Again I drew the craft forward, straining against the rope, it cutting into the side of my neck.
The sun was high overhead now.
We made little progress, it seemed, in closing the gap between ourselves and the alleged barge ahead. From time to time it was sighted again.
The men of Ar, in their boats, and wading, after a time, began to sing. The marsh echoed with their songs.
"What barge is that?" I asked, suddenly.
It, gliding by, poled by four men, seemed an apparition in the marsh. It was purple, and gilded, its bow in the graceful shape of the neck and head of a long-necked, sharp-billed gant, its stern carved to represent feathers. It had an open, golden cabin, covered with translucent golden netting. The poles propelling the craft were golden. On board, other than the occupant of the golden cabin, dimly perceived behind the golden netting, I saw an officer, and some guards, who perhaps took their turns at the poles. Such a vessel made a startling, unconscionable contrast with the meanness, that wretched, ragged, numerous miscellany, of other craft about. Certainly it belonged not in the delta but in some canal or placid waterway.
"She wants to be in on the kill," said a fellow.
"She?" I said.
"Ina, Lady of Ar," said a fellow.
"'Ina'," I said, "that could be the name of a slave." Such names, 'Ina', 'Ita', 'Tuka', 'Tula', 'Dina', 'Lita', and such, as suggested earlier, are common slave names. They, and many such names, are worn by hundreds of women in bondage. Earth-girl names, such as 'Shirley', 'Linda', 'Jane', and such, as I have suggested earlier, are also commonly used as slave names. One girl, of course, may, from time to time, have many different names, according to the whim of her master, or masters. She is a domestic animal, to be named as the master pleases.
"That is no slave," said a fellow.
"No," laughed another, perhaps ruefully.
"That is Ina, Lady of Ar," said a man, "attached to the staff of Saphronicus, a political observer, said to be a confidante of, and to report to, the Lady Talena, of Ar, herself."
"Where is the barge of Saphronicus?" I asked.
"It is back there, somewhere, doubtless," said a man.
"Doubtless," I said.
"Other vessels pass you," said a man.
"Pull!" ordered the fellow behind me.
Again I put my weight against the rope, once more moving the sodden craft forward.
10
Morale is High
"Lie still," said the fellow crouching next to me.
I shuddered, lying in the sand. The reaction was uncontrollable, involuntary, reflexive.
"Still," he said. He held the bit of rence stalk, still smoking from the fire, to one of the creatures on my back. I could feel it pulling out of my skin. He then picked it from my back, dropping it to the side, with others.
I did not know how much blood I had lost, though I suppose, objectively, it was not much. How much can one of those creatures, even given the hideous distention of its digestive cavity, hold? Yet there had been many during the day. Many had released their hold themselves.
"That is the last one," observed the fellow, turning me about.
"My thanks," I said.
He had removed, by my count, eleven of the creatures. He had put them to the side. There are various ways in which they may be encouraged to draw out, not tearing the skin. The two most common are heat and salt. It is not wise, once they have succeeded in catching hold, to apply force to them. In this fashion, too often part of the creature is left in the body, a part, or parts, which must then be removed with a knife or similar tool.
"Bring a torch, here!" I heard a fellow call.
I was again, as was done with me at night, tethered between mooring stakes, my ankles to one, my neck to another. My wrists were held behind me, in the manacles.
"Friend," I said.
"I am not your friend," said he. "I am your enemy." He stood up, discarding the smoking rence.
"Call your officer to me," I said. "I would speak with him."
"That is for your keeper to do," said he, "not me."
"Ho!" called a fellow from a few yards away. "Look!"
"Kill it!" cried a fellow, joyfully.
"Here, help me!" said another. I heard the sounds of two or three men.
"What is it?" I asked, turning in the sand, looking up.
"It is a marsh turtle, a large one," said the fellow, "come up on the bar."
"Why would it do that?" I asked. "There are men here, many of them."
"Now they have it confused, with fire and spears," reported the man, standing beside me. "It does not know which way to turn."
"Why is it not retreating to the water?" I asked, alarmed.
"It does not know which way to turn," he said. "They have it surrounded now. It is not moving now. It is in its shell now!"
"Together, men!" I heard.
There was a hissing sound, the grunting of men.
"They have it on its back now," said the fellow, pleased. "For once we shall eat well in the delta."
"Why has it come up on the bar, with men here!" I said. I felt suddenly very helpless in the manacles, the ropes.
"I do not understand," he said.
"Beware!" I said, pulling at the manacles. "Beware!"
"Aiii!" cried a fellow, a few yards away.
"It is gigantic!" cried the fellow near me. I heard a hideous hissing, a thrashing in the sand. Men parted between us and the creature. I struggled up a few inches, turning my head. Moving toward us, dripping, was a gigantic, short-legged, long-bodied tharlarion. Its tail snapped to one side, scattering sand.
"Fire!" I screamed. "Torches!"
The opening of its long, narrow jaws may have been as much as five foot Gorean.
"Torches!" cried the fellow with me.
"It wants the meat," I said. "Drive it away! That is why the turtle came to the bar. It was fleeing!"
The tharlarion looked about, its body lifted off the sand, its tail moving.
A fellow rushed toward it, thrusting a lit torch into the jaws. The beast hissed with fury, drawing back. Then another fellow threatened it with a torch, and then another. The beast lowered its body to the sand and then, pushing back in the sand, backed away.
"More fire!" cried a fellow.
Men rushed forward, with torches, and spears. Suddenly the beast slid back into the water, and, with a snap of its tail, turned and disappeared, beyond the ring of torchlight.
"It is gone," said the fellow near me.
"They fear fire," said a man.
"Keep torches lit," said a fellow.
"Feast!" called a fellow. "Feast!"
"Build up the fire!" called another.
"Slay the turtle!" called another.
"It is done!" said a fellow.
There was much good cheer then in the camp.
I lay neglected in the darkness, naked, in the manacles, between two stakes, helpless.
After a time my keeper, chewing, came near to me. "Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Tomorrow we will close with your fellows," he said. "Tomorrow glorious Ar will have her vengeance."
"I would speak with your officer," I said.
"The rence craft is rotted," he said. "It would not last tomorrow."
I was silent. I wondered if he had ever considered the oddity of the deterioration of the rence, in only days. I supposed not. He was
not of the delta. He might think there was nothing unusual about it.
"I have made arrangements for our group to share a three-log raft," he said.
"I am hungry," I said.
"The raft is heavy," he said. "There are two poles only."
"Feed me," I said.
"We will want a draft beast," he said.
"I am hungry," I said.
"We will arrange a harness for you," he said.
"I am hungry," I said.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. I could smell the turtle. I could hear the good humor, the jokes, of the men.
I turned my head away.
"Eat," said he, "spying sleen of Cos."
I regarded him.
"It is food fit for spies," said he, laughing. "Eat," he said.
I opened my mouth and he put one of the leeches into it.
"Eat," he said.
Later he forced another leech into my mouth and waited until I had eaten it. He then took the remaining leeches and, with a shiver of disgust, with two hands, hurled them out from the bar, into the water.
"Sleep well, sleen," said he. He then left.
I lay there for a time, hearing the joviality of the men on the bar. Morale this night was high among them.
I rose up a bit and turned my head, looking toward the water. Some torches were fixed there, at intervals, near the water's edge. Beyond them the marsh was dark. I then lay back, and, after a time, slept.
11
A Victory is Claimed
"So this," said the officer, "is our spy."
He was on a barge, a few feet away. The sun was high overhead. It seemed one could almost see the steam rising from the water. There were almost no shadows from the rence on the water.
I was in the water to my chest, before the raft I drew. I wore a small, improvised yoke, drilled in three places. This was fastened on me by means of three straps, one about each wrist and one about my neck, these straps then being threaded back through the three holes, one behind each wrist and one behind the neck, each then being fastened in its respective place, bound about the wood. This same type of simple yoke, though much lighter, sometimes no more than a narrow board or branch, is sometimes used for female slaves. If the yoke is somewhat stouter and her arms are extended a bucket may be hung on either side of such a yoke. It was good to have my hands in another position. The manacles now, due to frequent exposure and submersion, were muchly rusted. At night, however, I wore them as usual, and in their usual fashion, pinioning my hands behind my back. Sometimes during the day, out of the water, or in shallow water, I was permitted to wear them before my body, usually fastened closely to my belly with a strap. The center of such a strap is tied about the chain of the manacles and the two ends of the strap are joined behind the back. In this way one cannot reach the knot which fastens the strap in place. A similar arrangement is often used with binding fiber and slave bracelets, on women. I now, besides the yoke, wore a harness of straps which fastened me to the raft I drew.
Vagabonds of Gor Page 11