Talena was not a simple paga slave, as was Tana. Talena was not a simple rence girl, indigenous to the marches, as was Telima. Talena was the daughter of a Ubar!
It was not simply that Tana was beneath me, a rich man, Bosk, admiral in Port Kar. She, slave, was beneath any free man. She was only kept alive for one purpose, to serve such men, and be pleasing to them. And Telima, though she was very beautiful, was a rence girl. She was of low caste. She was scarcely fit consort for one of my position. But Talena, she was the daughter of a Ubar. She might, with fitness, sit by my side.
She would be acceptable.
I mused.
In time, I might become first captain in the Council of Captains. And who knew what political occurrences might take place in Port Kar? I was popular in the city. Perhaps in time there would be a Ubar in Port Kar.
At my side Talena would be the most beautiful, the richest and the most powerful woman on Gor.
I finished with the arrow on which I was working.
I would rescue her.
We would repledge our companionship. And who knew to what heights I might raise the chair of Bosk? Indeed, with Talena at my side, the daughter of the great Ubar of Ar, my fortunes, in many matters, might be much improved. The companionship would be an advantageous one. She, by virtue of her influences and associations, could bring me much. Who knew to what heights, in time, might be raised the chair of Vosk? Perhaps, in time, it might stand as high, or higher, than the throne of Ar? And might there not come to be, in time, an alliance of Gor’s greatest sea power and her greatest land power, and, perhaps, in time, but one throne?
We would make a splendid and powerful couple, the envy of Gor, Bosk, the great Bosk, and Talena, the beautiful Talena, daughter of a great Ubar, his consort. I rose to my feet, the arrow well refeathered, and set it to one side, across two rocks. In the morning it would be dry and I would replace it in the quiver. I looked at Sheera.
The shadows were longer. It was late in the afternoon. She looked at me. I turned away from her.
It was not yet time for a slave girl to escape.
Things were going well.
I went to inspect the work of the men, setting the sharpened stakes about the camp.
We had made one alteration in our original planes, an alteration to take into account the arrival in Laura of the Rhoda of Tyros.
We had taken the Tesephone from the wharves of Laura, and ascended the river some twenty pasangs. It was there, on the north bank, that we made our camp. Above Laura the river is less navigable than below, particularly in the late summer. The Rhoda, though a shallow drafted galley, was still considerably deeper keeled than the Tesephone. Moreover, it was a much longer ship. The Rhoda would be unable to follow us to our camp. Furthermore, I would post guards, downriver, to warn us of any approach, say, by longboats, from Laura. I had also pointed guards about the camp, in case, as was unlikely, there should be an attempt to make an approach through the forests.
I suspected that these precautions were unnecessary, but I saw fit to decree them nonetheless.
Furthermore, the camp above Laura, on the north bank of the Laurius, provided us with privacy for our business. We might be simply, as far as those in Laura knew, attempting to achieve better prices on sleen fur by establishing this camp. Such things were sometimes done. No one in Laura need know the true object of our expedition.
The riverside camp was not untypical of a semipermanent Gorean naval camp. The Tesephone had been beached, and lay partly on her side, thus permitting scraping, recalking and resealing of the hull timber, first on one side and then, later, when turned, on the other. These repairs would be made partly from stores carried on board, partly from stores purchased in Laura. There would also, of course, be much attention given to the deadwork of the ship, and to her lines and rigging, and the fittings and oars. Meanwhile, portions of the crew not engaged in such labors, would be carrying stones from the shore and cutting saplings in the forest, to build the narrow rectangular wall which shields such camps. Cooking, and most living, is done within the camp, within the wall and at the side of the Tesephone. The wall is open, of course, to the water. Canvas sheets, like rough awnings on stakes, are tied to the Tesephone, and these provide shade from the sun and protection in the case of rain.
I was fond of my crew. I would have girls, paga slaves, brought up for them from Laura.
“How goes the work?” I asked Thurnock.
“It goes well,” said he, “my captain.”
The men would soon be finished.
The camp of Marlenus, the great Ubar of Ar, I had learned was somewhere within the forest, north or northwest of Laura. It was quite possibly the same camp he had used several months ago, when, as recreation from the duties of the Ubar, he had gone hunting in the northern forests, a sporting trip in which he had captured a large number of animals, and, as well, Verna, a famed outlaw woman, and her entire band.
Marlenus, I was certain, would be overconfident.
Verna, I was certain, would not be so easily taken a second time.
“Another two stakes, and we are done,” said Thurnock.
I looked at the sun, it was now low, behind the trees, well below them. In half an Ahn, it would be dusk.
It was now time for a slave girl to escape.
I looked at Sheera. “On your feet, Slave Girl,” I said.
She stood up, her wrists braceleted before her body. She faced me. She wore the brief, sleeveless garment of white wool, her dark hair back by the fillet of white wool. She was barefoot. My collar was at her throat.
I realized, suddenly with a start, that she was a quite beautiful woman. She regarded me.
Her fists were clenched in the slave bracelets. The short chain, joining the bracelets, was taut.
“Is this why you purchased me?’ she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
She turned quickly, wrists braceleted, and slipped between two stakes, where Thurnock had not yet closed the defenses of the camp. She sped swiftly into the forest.
It was in her best interest, braceleted, to fall swiftly into the hands of Verna’s band. Within the Ahn, hungry, nocturnal sleen would slip from their burrows to hunt.
“What shall we do now, Captain,” asked Thurnock. He had finished closing the wall, setting the two stakes, sharpened, inclined toward the forests, into place.
“We shall cook some food,” I said, “and we shall eat, and we shall wait.” About the twentieth Ahn, the Gorean midnight, we heard a sound, beyond our defensive perimeter.
“Do not put out the fire,” I told my men, “but stay back from it.”
That we kept the fire burning would indicate that our intentions were not hostile, and that we wished to make contact.
We remained back from the fire to make it more difficult for the panther girls, were it their intention, to slay us from the darkness with arrows.
But that was not their intention. Had it been I do not believe we would have heard the sound we did.
It had been the breaking of a branch, to alert us, to permit them to see what our response would be.
But the fire was not covered.
I stood near the fire, and lifted my arms, that they might see I held no weapons.
“I am Bosk, of the Free Island of tabor,” said I. “I am a merchant. I would hold converse with you.” There was only silence.
“We have trade goods,” I said.
From the darkness, beyond the perimeter, there stepped forth a woman, boldly. She carried a bow. She wore the skins of panthers.
“Build up your fire,” she commanded.
“Do so,” said I to Thurnock.
Reluctantly Thurnock heaped more wood on the fire, until the interior of the perimeter was well illuminated in the darkness.
We could not see beyond the fire.
“Keep the fire high,” said the woman.
“Keep it high,” said I to Thurnock.
Each of us, now within the defensive perimeter, between the stakes, was an easy mark.
“Remove your sword belts and weapons,” said the woman. I dropped my belt, with sword and sheath, and knife, to the ground, beside the fire. My men, at my signal, did likewise.