Rebels of Gor (33 page)

The game, if it were a game, had begun.

The wager, I supposed, if it were a wager, was underway.

Interestingly, I was unclear as to the gambling involved, in particular, who might favor which participant, Yamada or Temmu? For example, it seemed probable that the Priest-Kings had preserved the remnants of the forces of Temmu, but this did not imply that they favored that house. They might have been doing no more than preparing the dice, a preparation in which the Kurii might themselves have collaborated. Similarly, in the very palace, I had recently sensed Kur. Did this mean that the Kurii favored the house of Yamada? Perhaps it was there to monitor matters, and little more. More importantly, I had no reason to trust either Kurii or Priest-Kings with respect to more than a pretence of impartiality. I had no reason to believe that Kurii, long confined to their steel spheres, and desperate to obtain a fresh, unspoiled world after they had ruined their own, would abide a negative result of the wager with equanimity. Too, Priest-Kings, in all their wisdom, must realize that Kurii, suspicious, ambitious, and aggressive, would be unlikely, indefinitely, to peaceably and harmoniously share a world. Matters were further complicated by my realization that factions existed amongst the Kurii, both within worlds and amongst worlds. Indeed, had not such factions rendered their original world little more than a seared wasteland? Too, I knew from my own time in the Nest, long ago, that the Priest-Kings themselves might differ amongst themselves in trust and agenda.

One might speculate as one wished.

I, and others, were before the curtain, so to speak, and it was difficult to know what lay veiled behind that curtain, if anything.

I listened to the brook. I smelled the flowers in the garden. Haruki was elsewhere. The Night Singers were in the fields.

I must return to the palace.

I have not mentioned one thing.

It is perhaps worth mentioning, though it deals with a woman.

It may be recalled that Lord Yamada had been displeased with the foiled espionage of his daughter, Sumomo, who had been placed as a supposed contract woman in the quarters of Lord Nishida, a daimyo of Lord Temmu. Unbeknownst to herself she had been detected on the outer parapet of the holding of Temmu by the warrior, Tajima, seemingly communicating with minions of Lord Yamada, waiting below. This intelligence having been brought to the attention of Lord Temmu and Lord Okimoto, a daimyo of Lord Temmu, it had been determined that she was to be cast from the parapet at a time corresponding to that at which her observed message had been delivered. Tyrtaios, however, presumably at the behest of an angered Lord Yamada, had extracted her from the holding on tarnback before this sentence could be emplaced. She had been ignorant that her work had been discovered, and thought herself recalled to the palace either for her protection or for a new, different assignment. In actuality, Lord Yamada, fearing his plans had been jeopardized by her clumsiness, had had her recalled not for her protection or for a new employment, suitable to her beauty and intelligence, but because he wished to visit his disappointment and displeasure upon her, in a most grievous manner, meting out to her a lengthy and painful death. Tajima, in the garden, had tried to make this clear to her, but he had failed to convince her of her danger. Sent to the garden to pry information from a manipulable male, one likely to be eager to please so beautiful a woman, she had returned, to her chagrin, empty handed to the supper, having succeeded in little more than having found herself regaled with what she viewed as absurdities and ravings. It may also be recalled that Lord Yamada, before Tajima and Pertinax departed for their rendezvous with Ichiro, offered each a woman, who might be kept as their own, and, also, that Tajima, to my surprise, and presumably to that of Lord Yamada, expressed a concern as to the comfort of slaves, on what would be likely to be a cold flight north. Acceding to this concern Lord Yamada authorized a requisition of two blankets. I had little doubt that Pertinax had claimed his Jane; on the other hand, there was much stir in the palace the next morning, for Tajima, I would suppose at great risk, had sought out Sumomo in her quarters, subdued her, and apparently carried her, bound and gagged, and wrapped in the blanket, from the palace, through the outer gate, and onto the road north. It was not difficult to come by this intelligence as the palace was alive with it that morning. Whereas I had little love for the vain, smug, supercilious Sumomo I certainly would have had no wish for her to be put to some prolonged, horrid death, of the sort which might be contrived by Lord Yamada’s torturers and executioners. I was thus rather pleased at Tajima’s boldness, and hoped that he would get Sumomo into a collar as soon as possible. As I had heard nothing for days I assumed that Tajima and Pertinax and their cargos had made it safely back to the encampment, and, as well, to the holding of Lord Temmu, where their reports would be doubtless eagerly awaited. I had little doubt that Lord Yamada seethed with rage at the abduction of Sumomo. Not only did this preclude the meting out of his justice on his failed agent, but it would be annoying, certainly, to recognize that she had been boldly removed from the palace, literally from amongst his guards. And his annoyance was doubtless not lessened by realizing that his own act, in authorizing blankets, was not only involved in, but was essential to, the success of the matter noted. On the other hand, in his relationship with me, Lord Yamada was his usual charming self, and gave not the least indication of concern. His major goal, as I realized, was obtaining and controlling the tarn cavalry, or at least assuring its neutrality. Too, as I recalled, he had many daughters. By now I supposed a stripped and collared Sumomo was learning to crawl to a man, bringing him his whip, held between her small, fine teeth.

I rose up from the bench and prepared to exit the garden, returning to the palace.

“Greetings, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Sumomo.

“Lady Sumomo!” I said.

“You seem startled,” she said.

Certainly I had failed to conceal my astonishment.

Sumomo was in an exquisite kimono, with a lovely obi. In her hair, which was long, and perhaps had never been cut, wound and curled high on her head, was a tall, jade comb. I could see the tips of tiny yellow slippers beneath the hem of her kimono.

“I was told by my father that you were here, and that I might greet you. Do not fear. Nothing is unseemly. Ashigaru are about.”

“Yes, Lady,” I said.

“You seem surprised to see me,” she said.

“Yes, Lady,” I said.

“I am but recently returned to the palace,” she said, “after recovering from an ordeal, for I am delicate, indeed, only yesterday, drawn by successions of runners, in a two-wheeled hand wagon.”

“It was said,” I said, “that you were taken from the palace, and that, days ago.”

“It is true,” she said. “There was an incident. It need not be discussed.”

“How could you be taken from the palace?” I asked.

“It need not be discussed,” she said.

“It is rumored,” I said, “that you were rendered helpless, and silent, and concealed in a blanket.”

“It need not be discussed,” she said.

“Much as might have been any woman,” I said.

“I am returned,” she said.

“It is conjectured,” I said, “that you were bound and gagged, that you were utterly helpless, even as might have been a trussed slave.”

“I am Sumomo,” she said, “daughter of Lord Yamada, Shogun of the Islands.”

“You were sent to me by your father,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

“That you should speak to me?”

“Yes,” she said. “I see that you are apprehensive.”

“I had two men,” I said, “both of value to me, both friends. Are they alive? Are they captives?”

“I shall speak to you of what occurred,” she said.

“Are they alive?” I said.

“There were two men,” she said, “both known to you, the loathsome Tajima, whom I despise, and a large, barbarian fool, named Pertinax. There was also a slave, with the barbarian name, Jane. I was carried through the darkness, past sentry posts, in the arms of the contemptible Tajima. The slave struggled to match the pace of the men.”

Hearing this, I feared, the rendezvous with Ichiro would not be met. Ichiro had his instructions to return to the northern encampment if the rendezvous had not been kept by midnight, the Twentieth Ahn. Too, it did not seem that Tajima, no matter his will or fortitude, his agility and supple strength, could meet the rendezvous on time, bearing Sumomo, despite her lightness and small frame.

“You were carried on the left shoulder of Tajima,” I said, “your head to the rear?”

“Certainly not,” she said. “I am a free woman.”

A slave is often carried in that way, over the shoulder, facing backward, that she may know herself goods, a property, as much so as a crate of larmas, a bundle of tur-pah, a bag of suls. Too, in this way, she does not know to what, or where, she is being carried. Why should she know? She is a slave.

“After a time,” she said, “after the guard posts, the blanket was removed, and my ankles were untied; yes, they had been tied; and I was informed that I should accompany my captors on foot. The slave, I think, rejoiced to have this moment to rest. Naturally I refused, by gestures, and shaking my head, to do so. It was clear to me that a meeting must be at issue, and that time might be short. I could thus foil my captors, and trust that we might fall in with one of my father’s patrols.”

“You are clever,” I said.

“Extremely so,” she said. “The barbarian oaf, he called Pertinax, upon my refusal, suggested that I might be beaten into submission.”

“Were you?” I asked.

“Certainly not,” she said. “I am a free woman.”

“You were then carried, again?” I said.

“Two ropes were put on my neck,” she said, “one before and one behind. The draw of the lead rope was at the back of my neck, and that of the back rope, if it were tightened, would be at my throat.”

“Slaves are trained,” I said, “to follow docilely on their leashes, as beautiful beasts, the draw, if necessary, always at the back of the neck, to avoid injury.”

“I would be drawn forward by the lead tether,” she said, “and should I try to hold back, it would draw forward, and the rear draw, then, at my throat, would draw back. This would be quite disagreeable, and so, to relieve any possible unpleasantness, I hurried forward. Too, I realized that I would be well advised to cooperate with my captors, for my life was in their hands.”

“Escape was imperative,” I said, “and the men impatient, and desperate.” All pressure, of course, is to be at the back of the neck, and that applied with discretion.

“Were I a slave,” she said, “I suppose I might have simply been whipped into a sobbing, eager obedience.”

“But you were a free woman,” I said.

“Certainly,” she said. “In any event, I am not stupid, and, given the situation, I hurried on, now obedient to my leash.”

“As might a slave,” I said.

“Perhaps,” she said. “But soon,” she said, “by pathetic whimpers, and tiny movements of my body, which men cannot withstand, I made known that I now acknowledged myself a helpless woman in their grasp, admitting myself their helpless prisoner, and that I desired to speak.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Men are stupid,” she said. “Such wiles were sufficient, though Pertinax was not pleased. My gag was removed, and my hands were unbound from behind my back. I lowered my head, and promised dutiful compliance. The leash, too, was removed.”

“You would be silent,” I said. “You would do nothing to betray their trust. You would not attempt to escape?”
 

“I promised all that,” she said, “and most earnestly.”

“You need not have done so,” I said. “But if you promised, it is incumbent upon you to keep your promise.”

“Do not be absurd,” she said.

“I see,” I said.

“Men are stupid,” she said.

“What then?” I asked.

It alarmed me that Sumomo was here, in the garden. But it seemed she would not speak, except in her own way, at her own pace. I suspect she was enjoying this unraveling of her account.

“We then continued on our way,” she said, “I between the two men, and the slave following, behind and on the left.”

“That is the common heeling position for a slave,” I said.

“But I walked proudly between my captors,” she said.

“Certainly,” I said. “You were a free woman.”

“The contemptible Tajima,” she said, “kept looking at the yellow moon.”

“He was judging the night sky,” I said, “trying to ascertain the Twentieth Ahn.”

“Shortly thereafter he said, ‘We are too late!’”

“‘Surely not!’ said Pertinax.”

“‘See the moon!’ he said.”

“‘Let us hurry on,’ said Pertinax.”

“‘The bannerman knows his orders,’ said the loathsome Tajima. ‘He has departed.’”

“‘Perhaps not,’ said Pertinax.”

“‘He is bannerman,’ said the loathsome Tajima. It seems the barbarian oaf, Pertinax, was unfamiliar with the discipline of our people.”

“Discipline,” I said, “is to be used with an end in view. It is not its own end.”