Magicians of Gor (12 page)

many as fifteen high slaves, choice “flowers” from their pleasure gardens,

trained even to Curulean quality, for a single tharlarion and wagon. But I did

not know, even then, how far they might get, with the need of such conveyances,

brigands on the road, advanced scouts of Cos, and such. Some, I had had heard,

had been turned back even by guardsmen of Ar, outside the city. That seemed hard

to understand. In any event, most of those in the city, surely the largest part,

by far, of its population, had no practical way to leave the city, lest it be on

foot. Even then they would have surely, most of them, nowhere to go, or stay.

Who knew what dangers might lie outside the walls? Too, they could always be

overtaken by tharlarion cavalry or Cosian tarnsmen. The citizenry of Ar, for the

most part, was trapped in the city. Indeed, there were even rumors circulating

that the gates of the city would soon be closed, and even sealed, reinforced

against siege weapons. There was much talk, too, of course, about defending the

city. Indeed, it was with this in mind, that I had come this morning to the

city, to lend my sword, a modicum of mercenary iron, to her defense. On the

other hand, this cause, I suspected, was doomed. It was not that I doubted that

those of Ar, suitably rallied and led, might effect a stout and fierce

resistance, but that I had some (pg. 69) concept, as many did not, Marcus, for

example, of the arithmetic of war. In any normalcy of combat, assuming the

equivalence of the units, the comparability of weaponry, the competence of the

commanders, and such, Ar would be doomed. The army of Cos was the largest ever

brought to the field of Gor, and it was now, after the fall of Ar’s Station,

abetted by numerous reinforcements from the north. Furthermore, it had had the

winter to restore its siege train, the original train burned in Torcadino, fired

by Dietrich of Tarnburg, and, because of its recent success in the field, west

of Ar, it could draw on thousands of square pasangs for its logistical support.

Further, its lines of communication, from the palace at Telnus, in Cos, to the

tent of Myron, the polemarkos, were swift and reliable. I doubted that Ar, even

if rallied by a Marlenus of Ar, could hold out for more than a few weeks. And,

once one added to the reckoning of these dismal tables, the skewing factor of

treachery in Ar, and that her high general, Seremides, of Tyros, was traitorous

to his oaths, as I had learned at Holmesk, in the north, Ar, I was sure, was

doomed.

“Look!” said a man, pointing upward. “Tarnsmen!”

“They are clad in blue,” cried a man.

“Cosian tarnsmen over the city!” cried another.

“The tarn wire will protect us!” said another.

“Where are our lads?” asked a man.

“They cannot be everywhere,” said another, angrily.

Yet the appearance of Cosian tarnsmen over Ar indicated to me that Cos must now

control the skies, as she had in the north.

“The tarn wire will protect us,” repeated the fellow.

“Wire can be cut,” said a man.

“No one must be permitted to again revile the Home Stone of Ar’s Station!” said

Marcus.

“Come away from here,” I said. I pulled him from the knot of men, to the side.

I looked back to the enclosure within which was the Home Stone of Ar’s Station,

it resting on the plank, supported by the two terra-cotta vats. There were at

least ten guards in the vicinity, as well as perhaps fifty to a hundred men.

“I do not think you are likely, at this time,” I said, “to seize the Home Stone

by force. Even if you could cut your way to it, you would not be likely to get

more than a few feet with it, before you were brought down, by spear or quarrel,

if not by blade.”

“I can die in the attempt of its rescue,” he said, grimly.

“Yes, I suppose you could,” I said, “and probably without much difficulty, but

if your intent is its rescue, and not your death in its attempted rescue, this

is not the time to strike.”

“You have many of the virtues of the warrior,” I said, “but there is yet one you

must learn-patience.”

“It is not your Home Stone,” he said.

“And that,” I said, “is perhaps why it is easier for me to consider these

matters with more objectivity than you.”

“The Stone may be moved, or hidden,” he said.

“That is a possibility,” I said.

“We must strike now,” he said.

“We must wait,” I said.

“I do not want to wait,” he said.

“I have an idea,” I said. This had occurred to me as I had considered the Stone,

its placement, the arrangement of guardsmen and such.

“What is your idea?” he asked.

“You would not approve of it,” I said, “as it involves something other than a

bloody frontal assault.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“It is really only a possibility,” I said. “I shall discuss it with you later.”

I then turned back toward Wagon Street, and Marcus, reluctantly, joined me.

“Our permits to be within the city expire at sundown,” he said. “And the camp

outside is largely struck. Indeed, there may well be scouts and skirmishers of

Cos under the walls tonight. The gates will be closed, we will be outside. We

may not even be able to regain entrance to the city.”

“It is my intention,” I said, “to remain within the city, putting my sword at

its service.”

“You owe Ar nothing,” he said.

“True,” I said.

“She is doomed,” he said.

“Perhaps,” I said.

“Why would you wish to remain here then?” he asked.

“I have a reason,” I said.

“Shall we discuss it,” he asked, “its rationality, and such, with objectivity.”

“Certainly not,” I said.

“I thought not,” he said.

We clasped hands, and then continued on our way, to fetch Phoebe.

5
     
Outside the Gate

“And so, tonight,” said Marcus, huddling beside me, in a blanket, Phoebe covered

in another, completely, so that she could not see, beside him, in the darkness

and cold outside the sun gate, with perhaps two or three hundred others, “I

thought you were to be warm and snug in Ar.”

“There were no recruiting tables,” I admitted.

“The services of your sword were not accepted,” he said.

“No,” I said.

“Interesting,’ he said.

“They did ask for my permit and told me I should be out of the city by sundown.”

“Cos may be hiring,” said a fellow.

“They did not need any more,” said another.

I supposed that was true.

“It is strange,” said Marcus. “I would have thought they might even free and arm

male slaves.”

I shrugged.

“But then,” he said, “I suppose there are not too many male slaves in the city

who might serve in that capacity.”

“Perhaps not,” I said. It was not like the city contained large numbers of

dangerous, powerful, virile male slaves, such as might be found on the galleys,

in the quarries, on the great farms, and so on. Such, in numbers, would be

dangerous in the city. Most male slaves in the city were pampered silk slaves,

owned by Gorean women who had not yet learned their sex. Such slaves, when

captured, if not slain in disgust by the victors, were usually herded together

like slave girls, and chained for disposition in markets catering to their form

of merchandise, markets patronized largely by free women. To be sure, there were

virile male slaves in Ar. For example, many of the fellows who attended to the

great refuse vats usually kept at the foot of the stairs in insulae were male

slaves. Usually they worked under the direct or indirect supervision of free

men. occasionally they would be treated to a dram of paga or thrown a kettle

girl for the evening.

“I would have thought,” said Marcus, “that Ar might have rejoiced these days to

obtain even the services of a lad with a beanshooter.”

(pg. 72) “Apparently not,” I said.

“You understand what this means?” asked Marcus.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I understand what it means.”

“Do you think they will open the gate in the morning?” asked a man.

“Yes,” said another.

“How far is Cos?” Marcus asked a fellow stirring around in his blankets.

“Two days,” said the fellow.

“Ar will be defended to the death,” said a man.

“Perhaps,” said another.

“You are not sure of it?” asked the first.

“No,” said the second.

“Have you heard the latest news?” asked a fellow.

“What?” inquired another.

“It was suddenly in Ar,” said the fellow. “I heard it just before I was expelled

from the city, the gate then closed.”

“What?” asked a man.

“Talena, the daughter of Marlenus, has offered to sacrifice herself for the

safety of the city.”

“I do not understand,” said a fellow.

“Tell me of this!” I said.

“Talena has agreed to deliver herself naked, and in the chains of a slave, to

the Cosians, if they will but spare Ar!”

“She must never be permitted to do so!” cried a man.

“No!” said another.

“Noble woman!” cried a man.

“Noble Talena!” cried another.

“It is absurd,” said another fellow. “She is not the daughter of Marlenus. She

was disowned by him.”

“And thus,” I said, “her offer is of no more import than would be the similar

offer of any other free woman of Ar.”

“Treason!” said a fellow.

“It is said,” said a fellow,” that she has been a slave.”

“I have heard that,” said a man.

“Marlenus did disown her,” said a man.

“She does not even have her original name restored,” said a man, “but the merely

same name, permitted her, after she was freed.”

“Long was she sequestered in the Central Cylinder,” said another.

“As is Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, of the Hinrabians,” said a man. “Remember her?”

“Yes,” said a fellow. Claudia Tentia Hinrabie had been the (pg. 73) daughter of

a former Ubar of Ar, Minus Tentius Hinrabius. When Marlenus had regained the

throne he had freed her from a bondage to which Cernus, his foe, who had

replaced Minus Tentius Hinrabius on the throne, had seen that she was reduced. I

recalled her. She had been a slender, dark-haired beauty, with high cheekbones.

She still lived, as I understood it, in the Central Cylinder.

“I, too, have heard it said,” I said, “that Talena was once a slave, and I have

heard it said, as well, that even now she wears on her thigh the mark of Treve,

a souvenir of her former bondage to a tarnsman of that city.”

“She is the daughter of Marlenus,” said a man, sullenly.

“She should be Ubara,” said another.

“Her offer to deliver herself to the Cosians, that the city may be spared,” said

a fellow, “is preposterous. When they take the city they can have her, and any

other number of free women. The whole thing is absurd.”

“But incredibly noble!” said a fellow.

“Yes,” said another.

“It is an act worthy of one who should be Ubara,” said a man.

I considered these matters, rather interested in them. In making an offer of

this sort, of course, Talena was implicitly claiming for herself the status of

being a Ubar’s daughter, else the offer would have been, as one of the fellows

had suggested, absurd. This was, in its way, presenting a title to the throne.

It was not as though she were merely one, say, of a thousand free women who were

making the same offer.

“Is she asking, say, a thousand other free women to join her in this proposal?”

I asked.

“No,” said the fellow.

The extremely interesting thing to my mind would be the Cosian response to this

offer. I had little doubt, personally, from what I had learned of the intrigues

in Ar that this offer had some role to play in the complicated political games