Explorers of Gor (63 page)

“Surely you are aware that possession of the ring is dangerous,” I said.

“I am well aware of that,” he said. With his right hand he gestured about himself. He indicated the walls of the fortresslike enclosure within which he had ensconced himself and his men. Too, about this enclosure, at the foot of stairs leading from it, was a broad, shallow moat. Waters from the lake circulated through the city and fed this moat. In it, as had been demonstrated, by the hurling of a haunch of tarsk into the waters, crowded and schooling, were thousands of blue grunt. This fish, when isolated and swimming free in a river or lake, is not particularly dangerous. For a few days prior to the fullness of the major Gorean moon, however, it begins to school. It’ then becomes extremely aggressive and ferocious. The haunch of tarsk hurled into the water of the moat, slung on a rope, had been devoured in a matter of Ihn. There had been a thrashing frenzy in the water and then the rope had been withdrawn, severed. The moat had been crossed by a small, floating wooden bridge, tied at each end. This had been built, being extended outward from the opposite shore, by Shaba’s men. The effectiveness of the moat, aside from the barrier of the water itself, would become negligible with the passing of the full moon, until the next. The grunt, following the mating frenzy, synchronized with the full moon, would return to the lake. Given the habits of the fish I had little doubt but that this place was an ancient mating ground for them, for the grunt populations tend to return again and again to the places of their frenzy, wherever, usually in a lagoon or shallow place in a river, they may be. The grunt now schooling in the open moat, come in from the lake, could well be the posterity of grunt populations dating back to the time when the city was not in ruins but in the height of its glory and power. The grunt in the moat were for a time an effective barrier, but surely Shaba and his men realized that it must be temporary. Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck rose. I now understood the practicality of their present situation.

“You were waiting for us,” I said.

“Of course,” said Shaba. “And if you had not come by today, I do not know what we would have done.”

“The wall of the grunt,” I said. “It has protected you for some four or five days.”

“It proved enough,” said Shaba. “It gave you time to arrive.

“You have been followed by Kurii,” I said.

“Yes,” said Shaba. “That is our belief. We have, however, seen only tracks. I fear, even now, however, they may be gathering. They must be somewhere in the city.”

“Your man was courageous to come and fetch us,” I said.

“He is Ngumi,” said Shaba. “He is courageous, indeed. We did not know if he would get through.”

“I did not know a scribe could be so courageous.” I said.

“There are brave men in all castes,” said Shaba.

“We may have been permitted, however, to come through,” I said.

“That Msaliti gain entrance to the fortification?” asked Shaba.

“Of course,” I said.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“You said,” I said, “that you took the ring for two reasons, but you mentioned only one, that it facilitated your journey upon the Ua.”

“Look there,” said Shaba, indicating a table to one side, on which there lay a cylindrical leather case, with a leather cap, and four notebooks, heavy and bound with leather.

“I see,” I said.

“There is a map case there,” he said, “and my notebooks. I have, in my journey, charted the Ua, and in the notebooks I have recorded my observations. Those things, though you, of the warriors, may not understand this, are priceless.”

“Your records would doubtless be of value, to geographers,” I said.

“They are,” said Shaba, “of inestimable value to all civilized men.”

“Perhaps,” I said.

“The maps, those records,” said Shaba, “open up a new world. Think not only in terms of crass profit, my friend, of the bounties there to hunters and trappers, to traders and settlers, to planters and physicians, but to all men who wish to understand, who wish to know, who wish to unveil hidden secrets and penetrate hitherto unsolved mysteries. In these maps and records, for those who can understand them, lie the first glimpses of new and vast countries. In these maps, and in these notes and drawings, there are treasures and wonders.” He looked at me, intently. “And that,” he said, “is the second reason I took the ring.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“I did not expect to survive this journey, nor to return,” he said. “I am pleased that I have come this far, that I have found the source of the Ua.”

“Yes?” I said.

“I took the ring,” he said, “not only to facilitate my journey, but that you, or another, would follow, that there would be someone who could bring my maps and notes back to civilization.”

“You fled,” I said, “fearing me.”

Shaba smiled. “The Ua,” said he, “seems a strange avenue of escape. No, my friend, I did not flee. Rather I began my voyage of exploration, my expedition into the interior.”

“What of the moneys, those vast sums wrought from the Kurii, the notes negotiated in Schendi?” I asked.

“They were to defray the costs of outfitting the expedition, of hiring the men,” he said. “Surely you do not object to my making use of the funds of Kurii for such a purpose. They should be pleased to have made their contribution to so noble a project.”

“You distribute your treacheries impartially,” I said. “Doubtless that is to your credit.”

“Do not think too poorly of me, Tarl,” said Shaba. “This was to me the opportunity of a lifetime. If I have erred, I have erred in the cause of my caste and in that, more generally, of humankind.” He regarded me, a little sadly. “What do you think Priest-Kings would do with the ring?” he asked. “It would not be important to them. But to me, to men, it is momentous. Indeed, I doubt that Priest-Kings would even wish to permit the use of the ring to men. It seems possible to me they would regard its use as contravening their structures on human technology.”

“Perhaps,” I said. “I truly would not know how they might view the matter.”

“So,” said Shaba, “I took the ring. With it I have explored the Ua. I have found her source. With it, too, I have lured you after me, that my maps and notes might be returned safely to civilization.”

I looked down at the map case and the notebooks.

“Yes,” said Shaba, “it is those things which I have purchased with the theft of the ring, and my life.” He suddenly tensed. I saw that he was in pain. “Guard them well, my friend,” he said.

“Why did you flee the palace of Bila Huruma?” I asked. Shaba had fled, I recalled, with three galleys. Bila Huruma, with the balance of his ships and supplies, had followed him.

“It is perhaps he whom I have most wronged,” said Shaba, sadly, “and yet I think that in fleeing his palace I may have saved his life.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“Bila Huruma, my patron and protector,” said Shaba, “stood between Msaliti and myself. Msaliti had already attempted one attack on his life, that in which Jambia, the assassin, died by the osts, that same attack in which he sought to implicate you.”

“Yes,” I said.

“As long as I remained in the palace, Bila Huruma was, in danger,” he said. “When I fled there would be no reason for Msaliti to plot his death. Yet I knew well that when I fled Bila Huruma would follow me.”

“Of course,” I said. “Msaliti would then have no alternative but to tell Bila Huruma of the ring, and then join with him in Bila Huruma’s attempt to seize it, hoping later to secure it for himself.”

“I do not think Bila Huruma has followed me for the ring,” smiled Shaba.

“Why else?” I asked.

Shaba said nothing.

“No other motivation could bring him to this place,” I said, “other than to kill for the ring. Its power would make him absolute and invincible.”

“Perhaps,” smiled Shaba.

“How is it,” I asked, “that you fear you may have wronged Bila Huruma?” That seemed as unlikely to me as a fellow worrying about wronging a larl who was padding along upon his trail.

“By using him for my purposes,” said Shaba.

“What purposes?” I asked.

Shaba lay back on the blankets for a moment. He shut his eyes in pain.

I watched the ring on the chain about his neck.

Shaba, weary, opened his eyes. He looked at me. He was weak.

“I have no interest in your maps and notebooks,” I said. “I have come for the ring. Have these manacles removed. Give me the ring.”

There was suddenly a scream from the height of the wall. I spun about to see one of Shaba’s men reel about and then plunge bloody from the wall’s height to the stones below. Then, rimmed against the blue tropical sky I saw, arms upraised, a red-spattered panga in its right paw, the huge, towering shaggy figure of a Kur. There were screams from below. Then I heard the screams of wild Kurii from all about, encircling the walls. I saw the height of a slender tree trunk suddenly protruding against the sky, leaning against the wall from the outside. A Kur scrambled up the trunk and leaped down over the wall. At other places, too, I saw the heads of Kurii, broad and fanged, eyes blazing, arms and paws thrust over the wall.

One of the Kurii screamed, a stabbing spear thrust in its chest. Bila Huruma swiftly deployed his askaris. I saw Kisu, a raider’s spear over this head, held in both hands, rush toward a crouching Kur, one just leaped into the courtyard.

“Remove these manacles!” I cried to Ngumi, the scribe at the side of Shaba, he who had conducted us to this place.

Eight or ten more Kurii dropped inside the wall, lightly for their weight, and crouched there for the moment, pangas in their fangs, the knuckles of their paws on the stones.

I saw Msaliti draw his knife and slip to the side.

Askaris rushed up stone stairs to the height of the walls, where the lateral walkways had not crumbled. I saw one thrust back another tree trunk. Then I saw four of them cut from the to of the wall by a charging Kur, one wielding a giant panga. I saw Kurii, too, thrusting their arms through the barrier of lashed poles mounted over the stones at the threshold. Ayari, small Ayari, joined the askaris there, thrusting with a stabbing spear through the poles.

“Free me!” I cried, maddened, to the scribe. I fought the manacles. I saw more Kurii clambering over the walls.

The scribe threw a wild look at Shaba. “Free him,” said Shaba.

I saw two Kurii, on all fours, pangas in their fangs, look towards us.

I heard screams at the threshold. I saw the poles being splintered and smote apart by pangas.

One of the slave girls, somewhere, screamed. A manacle, its double bolt thrust back by the key, opened. Many of the Kurii, I suspected, were Gorean Kurii, wild, degenerate Kurii, descendants of marooned Kurii or survivors of crashed ships. Others, I feared, were ship Kurii. “Hurry!” I cried. One of the two Kurii who had been looking at us suddenly lifted his arm and pointed towards us. On all fours, moving with an agility and speed frightening in so large a beast, they charged. The other manacle snapped free. I saw one of the beasts throw itself, panga still in its fangs, toward Shaba, reaching for the ring on its chain. I hurled the loosened manacles into the face of the other Kur. The beast who had attacked Shaba suddenly drew back, startled. Puzzled it looked at its paw, where there was a flash of bright blood. The panga fell from its fangs. The beast who confronted me, howling, tore the manacle from its slashed, moonlike eye. Its mouth was bloody where it had bitten dn the steel of the panga. I scrambled, leaping, half crawling, to the place on the stones where Ngumi had, after putting me in manacles, dropped my belt, sheath and dagger. I rolled wildly to the side. The panga of the beast who followed me, with a great ringing sound, and a flash of sparks, smote down on the stone. The beast who had attacked Shaba lay dead by his couch. Shaba was coughing and spitting blood. The blade of his fang ring, that containing kanda, was exposed, and bloody. I threw myself to the side again and again the great panga fell. The table on which reposed the map case and notebooks of Shaba seemed to explode in two, wood splintering and flying to the sides, the map case and notebooks, scattering, showering upward.

The Kur, roaring and snarling, looked about. For the moment it had lost me. I kept to its blind side. Then, uttering the war cry of Ko-ro-ba, I leaped upon its back, and, an arm about its throat, plunged the dagger to its heart. I felt the great body shuddering under me and I leaped away from it.

I spun about. I saw another Kur at Shaba. Again Shaba interposed the fang ring. I saw the six digits of the paw close on the chain about Shaba’s neck, and then the digits released the chain and the beast slipped back, limply. It sat for a moment, and then, unsteadily, fell to the side.

I thrust the bloody dagger between my teeth. On it I tasted the blood of Kur.

I seized up the panga which had been carried by the beast I had slain. It was heavy. I must needs use two hands to wield it.

I looked back once to Shaba, who, head down, was clutching at the blankets of the couch. They were covered with blood. Ngumi ran to him. Shaba lifted his head. “Fight,” he said. “Save yourselves.”

“I will never leave you!” cried Ngumi. Then he cried out, half cut in two. I leaped forward and, frontally, struck the Kur which had slain Ngumi. Its broad head was cut open to the neck. I looked down at Ngumi. The tribal stitching on his face, so startling and paradoxical in a scribe, a man of civilization, was identical to that on the face of Shaba.

“Help!” I heard. “They are breaking through!”

I ran to the threshold and, leaping upon the stones, screaming, struck at the arms and paws which were thrusting back the barrier of lashed poles. Paws and arms, severed, flew bloody from the blade. Kurii, howling, drew back.

“Others are coming over the walls!” I heard.

“Free me!” I heard. I ran to Turgus and slashed his bonds. He seized up a stabbing spear from a fallen askari and ran to fight. I then slashed away the bonds of the huddled, crouching slave girls. “Master!” cried Janice. They might now have some chance to flee. Yet they were enclosed within the walls. A human female who falls to a male conqueror may sometimes, by submitting herself totally to him as a slave, save her life, at least until he determines whether or not she is sufficiently pleasing. Kurii, on the other hand, generally have little interest in human females except as food.