“Yes,” she said, “you beast! You will! You will!”
He took a step toward her, and she stumbled away, and fell against the longboat, and then, climbed into it, laughing, watching him. “I’m free!” she called. “Tina is free!” He ran suddenly toward her, and she tried to scramble away, climbing over the thwarts, but he caught her by the scruff of the tunic and pulled her under the water. He dragged her, holding her by the hair under water until he came to the beach. Then, she gasping, soaked, he wet from the chest down, he threw her to the sand. I saw them fall to kissing and touching. No longer did the little thief reach for his purse or his wristlet. Her garment beneath her in the wet sand, she reached now for his lips, his head and body, touching him and crying out.
There was laughter from my men, and those of Marlenus. I expected that Tina and handsome, young Turus would see much of one another in Port Kar, jewel of gleaming Thassa. I saw her small body leaping helplessly to his touch. “I love you,” she cried.
“I love you,” said he. “I love you, sweet wench!”
“This woman,” said Marlenus of Ar. “I want.” He indicated Mira, on her knees, wrists bound behind her body, kneeling in the sand.
“Please, Master,’ she said to me. “Do not give me to him!”
“She betrayed me,” said Marlenus of Ar, “I will have her, too.” Hura lay, unmoving, her eyes dry, her body still twisted in the sand.
“Very well,” I said to Marlenus. “I give her to you.”
Marlenus took her by the hair and threw her, too, to the sand beside Hura. Both of the women lay at his feet. Both would march nude, chained to the stirrup of his tharlarion, in his triumph in Ar. Both would later, in silks and bells, barefoot, in bangles and slave rouge, serve him in his pleasure gardens. Dancing for him, pouring him wine, serving his pleasure, perhaps together, both would much please him. Hura and Mira were lovely souvenirs of the northern forests, fitting mementos for the great Ubar; they were tokens of his victories, reminders of his success’ their captive bodies would be found by him doubtless, when he looked upon them, rich in meaning as well as in pleasure. I could imagine him, drinking, pointing to one, telling his companions the story of the northern forests. “Now dance, Beauties!” he would cry, and they would, slaves, leap to their feet to please his companions. I wondered if, in the telling of that story, there would be mention of one called Bosk of Port Kar.
I did not think so. My part did not sufficiently honor the great Ubar, Marlenus of Ar.
He was always victorious.
I could not move the fingers of my left hand. The wind, sweeping across the beach, was cold.
“These men,” said Marlenus, indicating Sarus, and his ten men, chained, “are to be returned to Ar, for public impalement.” “No,’ said i.
There was utter silence.
“They are my prisoners,” I said. “It was I who took them, I and my men.” “I want them,” said Marlenus of Ar.
“No,” I said.
“Let them be impaled on the walls of Ar,” said Marlenus. “Let that be the answer of Ar to Chenbar of Tyros!” “The answer,” said I, “is not Ar’s to give. It is mine.” He looked at me for a long time. “Very well,” he said. “The answer is yours.” I looked at Sarus. He looked at me, chained, haggard, puzzled.
“Free them,” I said.
“No!’ cried Marlenus.
Sarus and his men were stunned.
“Return to them their weapons,” I said. “And give them medicine and food. The journey they have before them is dangerous and long. Help them prepare stretchers for their wounded.” “No!” cried Marlenus.
I turned to Sarus. “Follow the coast south,” I said. “Be wary of exchange points.” “I shall,” he said.
“No!’ cried Marlenus.
There was silence.
We stood, the two groups of men on the beach. Sheera was beside me. Hura’s women, bound, shrank back. Hura and Mira, secured, lay frightened on the sand. My men, even those who had had Verna’s women in their arms, came forward. The women, hair loose, the slave silk wet and covered by sand, earrings in their ears, followed them, standing behind them.
Marlenus looked about, from face to face.
Our eyes met.
“Free them,” said Marlenus.
The chains were removed from Sarus and his men. Two stretchers were improvised. They were given supplies, and medicine.
“Give back to Sarus his own sword,” said I.
It was done.
Their weapons, too, were returned to the other men.
Sarus stood before me.
“You have lost, Sarus,” said I.
He looked at me. “We have both lost,” said he.
“Go,” I said.
He turned and left, followed by his men, two of them carried by others, lying on the stretchers. We observed them departing, southward, down the long, curved stony beach.
They did not look back.
“Take down the stockade,” said Marlenus to his men.
They did so, leaving logs strewn on the beach. They then returned to his side. “We will depart,” said Marlenus.
Then the Ubar turned and regarded me. He was not pleased.
Our eyes met.
“Do not seek to come to the city of Ar,” said he.
I was silent. I had no wish to speak to him.
“Do not come to Ar,” said he.
Then he, with his men, and slaves, Hura and Mira now added to his coffle, departed. They entered the forests. He would return to his camp north of Laura, where his tarns waited. He would thence return to Ar, Hura doubtless bound nude across his saddle.
I watched them leave.
His head, nor the heads of his men, did not wear the degradation stripe. He would bring with him as slave Hura and Mira, panther girl leaders, who had sought to accomplish dishonor upon him. several of their women, too, nude and chained, would grave his triumph as lovely slaves. The men of Tyros, who had sought his capture were mostly dead or to be sold as slaves. Even their ship was prize, the possession of which he had not disputed with one called Bosk of Port Kar, who had aided him. he had come to the forest to capture Verna and free the woman Talena. He had succeeded in the first objective but had magnanimously, after first forcing her to serve him as a helpless, obedient slave girl, after sexually conquering her, freed her. It was a gesture, was it not, worthy of a Ubar? As for the second objective, the freeing of the woman Talena, that was no longer important to him, no longer a worthy aim of a Ubar’s act. She had begged to be purchased, thus showing that the collar she wore truly belonged on her throat. To beg to be purchased acknowledges that one may be purchased, that one is property, that one is slave. He had repudiated her. He had disowned her, as his daughter. If it were convenient for him now to free her, merely as an ex-citizen of Ar, he might do so, but he was not concerned in the matter. He had not even asked Verna her location. And Verna, Gorean to the core, had not dishonored him by imparting such information. Had she done so her act would have constituted a demeaning insinuation that he, a free man, a Ubar even, might have an interest in the fate of a slave. Verna respected Marlenus, doubtless more than any other man on Gor. She would not do him insult. She would, however, I had little doubt, send the two women who guarded Talena, to his camp north of Laura, with their prisoner to see if he, as a free man merely, might be interested in the purchase of a slave. He might then, without show of concern, without solitude, do what he wished.
She would have, thus, protected the honor of the Ubar.
Marlenus and his men disappeared into the forest.
I looked at the uprooted, strewn logs of the palisade, scattered on the stones by Marlenus’ men. “Thurnock,” I said, “gather these logs, those from the stockade, and with them build a beacon.” He looked at me. His eyes were sad. “There will be none to see it,” he said, “but I will build it. I will build a beacon the light of which will be seen fifty pasangs at sea.” I did not know why I would build such a beacon. There would be few to see it on Gor. And none, ever, would see it on the planet Earth. And if some should see it, who should understand it? I myself did not know why I built it or what its flames might mean.