The fate of Marlenus during these days was in doubt. I was certain that he had entered the city in some manner and was presumably waiting for his chance to strike at the Home Stones of the tributary cities, in order, if possible, to divide the horde of Pa-Kur. Then, in the fourth week of the siege, my heart fell. Marlenus and several men had entered the city, it seemed, but had been discovered — and sealed off in the very cylinder of the Home Stones — indeed, in that cylinder that had been his palace in the days of his glory.
Marlenus and his men apparently had command of the top floor and roof of the cylinder, but there was little hope he could use the Home Stones that now lay within his grasp. He and his men had no tarns, and their retreat was cut off. Moreover, the ubiquitous taro wire heavily netted in the area of the Central Cylinder would ward off any attempts at rescue, unless perhaps by a large force.
Pa-Kur, of course, was pleased to leave Marlenus precisely where he was, to be destroyed by the men of Ar. Also, Pa-Kur was not so much a fool as to bring the tributary Home Stones to his camp and risk disuniting his horde before the siege was completed. Indeed, it was probable that Pa-Kur had no intention of returning the Home Stones at all but was determined to follow in the imperial footsteps of Marlenus himself. I wondered how long Marlenus could hold out. It would surely depend, in part, on the food and water available and on the persistence of the Initiates' attempts to dislodge him. I was confident that there would be cisterns and canisters of water in the palace, and I supposed that Marlenus, as an enlightened precaution, in view of the unstable politics of Ar, would have outfitted his cylinder as a keep, laying in stores of food and missile weapons. At any rate, my plan for the division of the Home Stones had failed, and Marlenus, on whom I had depended, was, in the language of the game, neutralized if not removed from the board.
In despair, Kazrak and I discussed these matters over and over. The probability of Ar's resisting the siege was minimal. One thing at least remained to be done: there must be an attempt to rescue Talena. Another plan entered my head, but I dismissed it as too far-fetched, as unworthy of consideration. Kazrak noticed my frown and demanded to know what I had thought.
"The siege might be lifted," I said, "if a force could take Pa-Kur by surprise, a force of some thousands of warriors attacking from the unprotected side of the camp."
Kazrak smiled. "That is true. Where will you find the army?"
I hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Ko-ro-ba, perhaps Thentis."
Kazrak looked at me in disbelief. "Are you rid of your senses?" he asked. "The fall of Ar will be Ka-la-na wine to the free cities of Gor. When At falls, there will be rejoicing in the streets. When Ar falls, the bridges will be hung with garlands, there will be free Paga, slaves will be freed, enemies will pledge friendship."
"How long will it last," I queried, "with Pa-Kur on the throne of Ar?"
Kazrak seemed suddenly to darken with thought.
"Pa-Kur will not destroy the city," I said, "and he will keep as much of his horde as he can."
"Yes," said Kazrak. "There will be little cause for rejoicing."
"Marlenus had a dream of empire," I said, "but the ambition of Pa-Kur will yield only a nightmare of oppression and tyranny."
"It is unlikely that Marlenus will ever again be a danger," said Kazrak. "Even should he survive, he is outlawed in his own city."
"But Pa-Kur," I said, "as Ubar of Ar, will threaten all Gor."
"True," said Kazrak, looking at me questioningly.
"Why should not the free cities of Gor unite to defeat Pa-Kur?"
"The cities never unite," responded Kazrak.
"They never have," I said. "But surely, if Pa-Kur is to be stopped, this is the time, not after he is master of Ar."
"The cities never unite," repeated Kazrak, shaking his head.
"Take this ring," I said, giving him the ring that bore the crest of Cabot. "Show it to the Administrator of Ko-ro-ba and to the Administrator of Thentis and to the Ubars or Administrators of whatever cities you can. Tell them to raise the siege. Tell them they must strike now, and that you come with this message from Tarl Cabot, Warrior of Ko-ro-ba."
"I will probably be impaled," said Kazrak, rising to his feet, "but I will go."
With a heavy heart I watched Kazrak loop his sword belt over his shoulder and pick up his helmet. "Good bye, Sword Brother," he said, and turned and left the tent, as if he might have been merely going to the tharlarion corrals or to take his post for guard duty, as in our caravan days. I felt a choking sensation in my throat and asked myself if I had sent my friend to his death.
In a few minutes I gathered together my own gear and put on the heavy black helmet of the Assassin, left the tent, and turned my steps in the direction of the tents of Pa-Kur. I made my way to the interior perimeter of the second ditch, opposite the great gate of Ar in the distance. There, on a hillock overlooking the palisades that rimmed the rampart to the ditch, I saw the wall of black silk that surrounded the compound of Pa-Kur. Inside were the dozens of tents that formed the quarters for his personal retinue and bodyguard. Above them, at several places, flew the black banner of the Caste of Assassins.
I had neared the compound a hundred times before, but this time I was determined to enter. I began to walk with a quickened pace, my heart began to beat powerfully, and I felt the elation of decision. I would act. It would be suicide to attempt to cut my way in, but Pa-Kur was in the environs of Ar, directing the siege operations, and I might, with luck, pass myself off as his messenger; who would be bold enough to deny entrance to one whose helmet bore the golden slash of the courier?
Without hesitation I climbed the hillock and presented myself impatiently to the guards.
"A message from Pa-Kur," I said, "for the ears of Talena, his Ubara-to-be."
"I will carry the message," said one of the guards, a large man, his eyes suspicious. He regarded me closely. Obviously, I was not anyone he knew.
"The message is for the Ubara-to-be, and for her alone," I said angrily. "Do you deny admittance to the messenger of Pa-Kur?"
"I do not know you," he growled.
"Give me your name," I demanded, "so that I may report to Pa-Kur who it is that denies his message to his future Ubara.
There was an agonized silence, and then the guard stepped aside. I entered the compound, not having a settled plan, but feeling that I must contact Talena. Perhaps together we could arrange an escape at some later time. For the moment I did not even know where in the compound she might be kept.
Within the first wall of black silk, there was a second wall, but this time of iron bars. Pa-Kur was not as careless about his own safety as I had conjectured. Additionally, overhead I could see lines of tarp wire. I walked about the second wall until I came to a gate, where I repeated my story. Here I was admitted without question, as though my helmet were sufficient, guarantee in itself of my right to be there. Inside the second wall, I was escorted among the tents by a tower slave, a black girl whose livery was golden and who wore large golden earrings that matched a golden collar. Behind me, two guards fell into line.
We stopped before a resplendent tent of yellow-andred silk, some forty feet in diameter and twenty feet high at the dome. I turned to my escort and the guards. "Wait here," I said. "My message is for the ears of she who is pledged to Pa-Kur, and for her ears alone." My heart was beating so loudly I wondered that they didn't hear it. I was amazed that my voice sounded so calm.