“I love Rim,” she had cried to me. “Let me be free to carry the tools for him as a free woman!” But I had bound her as a slave. It was thus, under duress, she had complied with my will. She was slave. One does not trust slaves.
I looked at her. She was lost in her joy of Rim’s arms.
I shrugged.
I examined the panther women, now supine, now tightly bound, before the fire. “There are two others, who are missing,” I said to Thurnock. Hura and Mira were not among the captives.
I looked at one of the men of Marlenus, who had come in from the darkness. He spread his hands.:These are all we caught,” he said. “If there were two others, they must have slipped past us, or eluded us, in the darkness. “I want Hura!” cried Marlenus. “Find her!” His men fled into the darkness.
But I did not think they would be successful. Hura, and Mira, too, were panther girls.
In time, in a half of an Ahn, his men had returned. There was little point in prolonging the pursuit. The two women had slipped away, successfully, in the darkness.
They had made good their escape.
I noted, too, that Verna and Sheera were missing. I had lost blood. I was angry. I seemed very weary. It was little to me that they, too, taking advantage of the confusion, had slipped away.
“Where is the slave Verna!” cried Marlenus.
His men looked at one another.
“She is gone,” said one of them.
I wanted to rest. I had lost blood.
“Captain?” said Thurnock.
“Take me to the Tesephone, Thurnock,” I said. “I am tired. I am tired.” “Where, Bosk of Port Kar,” challenged Marlenus, “is the slave Verna?” “I do not know,” I told him. Then I turned away. It was over now. I wanted only to rest.
“Bring paga and food from the ships!” ordered Marlenus.
Thurnock looked at me.
“Yes,” I said, “let him have what he wished.”
“You will be paid,” said Marlenus, “in the gold of Ar.”
Thurnock helped me to the longboat. The beacon of Sarus was now only reddish stones of wood, like the eyes of beasts, looming in the darkness, lying on the sand.
“We will have a feast!” I heard Marlenus cry, and his men responded with a cheer.
“Chain these men of Tyros,” I heard Marlenus order. I heard chains. “Lie in the boat, my captain,” whispered Thurnock.
“No,” I told him.
“Free the females,” cried Marlenus. “They will serve us in our feast.” I heard the screams of women, as they were freed of their bonds. I knew they would serve the feast in the manner of Gorean slave girls, fully. I did not envy them. I heard the gate of the stockade swing shut. It would be secured, locking them within with the men, their former captives. I heard some of them pounding helplessly at the gate with their small fists. I heard the laughter of men. There was more screaming. I did not envy them.
“Come, Captain,” said Thurnock.
With Thurnock and eight of my men I thrust the longboat back in the water and then, wading, swung it about.
Thurnock climbed into the boat, and leaning toward me, helped me to follow him. My eight men took their oars.
“Lie in the boat, Captain,” said Thurnock.
“No,” I told him. I took the tiller.
“Stroke,” called Thurnock.
The oars cut the water. I leaned on the tiller. The moons broke from the cover of the clouds. Thassa, suddenly, shone with a billion whispering diamonds. Dark, ahead, were the hulls of the Rhoda, a ship of Tyros, and the Tesephone, a light galley of Port Kar.
“Captain?” asked Thurnock.
Behind me I heard from the stockade, the song of Ar’s glories, led in the great voice of Marlenus of Ar, Ubar of Ubars.
There would be a feast. The stockade would be ablaze with light.
I was wet from the salt water, thrusting the longboat into Thassa. My side and my left arm stung with the salt, and felt stiff with the cold, and then, too, suddenly, I felt a warmth, slow and spreading. It seemed welcome. I did not much care. But I knew that it was my own blood.
I heard the screams of women behind me, the laughter of men.
Then again I heard the strains of Ar’s song of glories, led by Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars.
There was a feast. The stockade would be ablaze with light.
I shook my head.
Ahead, dark, were the hulls of the Rhoda, she of Tyros, and he Tesephone, a light galley of Port Kar.
I had recollected my honor. I laughed bitterly. Little good had it done me. Marlenus’s was the victory, not mine. I had only grievous wounds, and cold. My left leg, too, began to feel stiff. I could not move it.
I looked down into Thassa. The glittering surface of the water, broken by the stroke of the oars, seemed to swirl.
I had nothing.
“Captain?” asked Thurnock.
I slumped over the tiller.
22 There is a Fair Wind for Port Kar
The wind was cold that swept along the stony beach. The men stood, their cloaks gathered about them. I sat, in blankets, in a captain’s chair, brought from the Tesephone. Thassa was green, and cold. The sky was gray. At their anchors, fore and aft, some quarter of a pasang from shore, swung the Rhoda, in her yellow, now dim in the grayness of the morning, and the Tesephone, on her flag line, snapping, an ensign bearing the following device, the head of a bosk, in black, over a field of white, marked with broad stripes of green, a flag not unknown on Thassa, that of Bosk from the Marches, a captain of Port Kar.
From the blankets I looked across the beach, to the stockade, which had been that of Sarus. The gate opened, and emerging, came Marlenus, followed by his men, eighty-five warriors of Ar. They were clad in skins, and in garments of Tyros. Several were armed well, with weapons taken from those of Tyros. Others carried merely knives, or light spears, taken from Hura’s panther girls. With them, coming slowly, too, across the sand, to where we waited for them, were Sarus and his men, chained, and bound and in throat coffle, stripped, shivering, Hura’s women. Near them, similarly bound and in throat coffle, though still in the skins of panther girls, were Verna’s women, who had been captured long ago by Sarus in Marlenus’ camp. Grenna, too, who had once been Hura’s lieutenant, whom I had captured in the forest, was bound in the same coffle. She wore the tatters of her white, woolen slave garment. Among the men, clad, too, like Verna’s women, in skins, were Marlenus’ own slave girls, those who had been brought to the forest by him, who, like the others, had been captured at his camp. Their limbs were not bound. About their throats, however, they wore the collar of their master.
Today the camp would be broken, the stockade destroyed.
I observed the retinue approaching me.
It would then be forgotten, what had taken place on this beach.
I could not move the left side of my body.
I watched Marlenus and his men, and the slaves, and captives, make their way toward me.
It was four days since the night of the stockade.
I had lain, in pain and fever, in my cabin, in the small stern castle of the Tesephone.
It had seemed that Sheera had cared for me, and that, in fitful wakings, I had seen her face, intent above mine, and felt her hand, and a warmth, and sponging at my side.
And I had cried out, and tried to rise, but strong hands, those of Rim and Arn, had pressed me back, holding me.
“Vella!” I had cried.
And they had pressed me back.
I should have a hiking trip, into the White Mountains of New Hampshire. I would wish to be alone.
Not in the arena of Tharna! I blocked the heavy yoke locked on Kron, the iron horns tearing at me. The shock coursed through my body, as might have the blow of a mountain on a mountain.