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"It will soon be time to camp," said the young man.
"The slaves, I trust," I said, jerking my head back toward the lovely, bound inmates of the wagon, "are on their slave wine."
"Yes," laughed the young man.
"Please, Master," begged the girl who had spoken earlier to the young man, "when we camp, tie my neck to a tree and untie my ankles. I desire to serve you."
"No, I!" cried another girl. "I!" cried another.
The young man laughed. He saw the girls desired to placate him. But, too, of course, to be honest, he was a handsome fellow, and they were bound female slaves. Carting such freight about does not pay high wages but there are fringe benefits connected with such work. If the girls are not virgins such a teamster commonly has his pick of the load.
"My neck, too, can be tied to a tree, and my ankles, too, can be untied, Master," said another of the girls, addressing me. She was a luscious blonde. I slapped the wood of the wagon box with pleasure.
"Look!" said the young man, suddenly, pointing to our right. "Smoke!" Almost at the same moment he rose to his feet and cracked his long whip over the backs of the tharlarion. Grunting, they increased their lumbering pace. Twice more he cracked his whip. The girls in the back were suddenly quiet. I gripped the edge of the wagon box. To our right, in a long, sloping valley, some two or three pasangs from the road, there were three narrow, slowly ascending columns of smoke.
"Faster! Har-ta!" cried the young man to the tharlarion.
"Surely we must stop," I said. "Perhaps we can render assistance."
"It is too late," he said, "by the time you can see the smoke. Everyone there, by now, would be dead, or taken."
One of the girls in the back cried out in fear. Naked, bound slaves, they were absolutely helpless.
"Nonetheless," I said, "I must make inquiries."
"You will do so then by yourself," said the young man.
"Agreed," I said. "Stop the wagon."
"Riders!" said the young man. Ahead, on the road, there was a rolling cloud of dust. He jerked the tharlarion back. Grunting they scratched at the gravel of the road. They tossed their snouts in the nose straps. The young man looked wildly about. He could not turn the wagon on the narrow road. The girls screamed, squirming in their bonds.
"They are soldiers," I said. I stood on the wagon box, shading my eyes.
"Thank the Priest-Kings!" cried the young man.
In moments a troop of soldiers, lancers and crossbowmen, mounted on kaiila, reined up about us. They wore the colors of Thentis. They were covered with dust. Their uniforms were black with sweat and dirt. The flanks of their prancing kaiila were lathered with foam. They snorted and, throwing back their heads, sucked air into their lungs. Their third lids, the transparent storm membranes, were drawn, giving their wild, round eyes a yellowish cast.
"Dust Legs," said the officer with the men. "The road is closed. Whither are you bound?"
"Fort Haskins," said the young man.
"You cannot remain here, and it would be dangerous to go back," said the officer. "I think you are best advised to proceed to Fort Haskins as quickly as possible."
"I shall do so," said the young man.
"It is unusual, is it not, for the Dust Legs to be on the rampage?" I asked. I had understood them to be one of the more peaceful of the tribes of the Barrens. Indeed, they often acted as intermediaries between the men of the settlements and the wilder tribes of the interior, such as the Yellow Knives, the Sleen and Kaiila.
"Who are you?" asked the officer.
"A traveler," I said.
"We do not know what has stirred them up," said the officer. "They have taken no life. They have only burned farms, and taken kaiila."
"It is perhaps a warning, of some sort," I said.
"It would seem so," said the officer. "They did not, for example, attack at dawn. They came openly, did their work unhurriedly, and withdrew."
"It is very mysterious," I said.
"They are a peaceful folk," said the officer, "but I would be on my way, and with dispatch. Sleen or Kaiila may be behind them."
One of the girls in the back whimpered in terror.
The officer, slowly, rode around the wagon, looking through the wooden bars at our bound cargo. The girls shrank back under his gaze, bound, inspected slaves.
"I would be on my way as soon as possible," said the officer. "I would not expect even Dust Legs to resist this cargo."
"Yes, Captain!" said the young man. The officer took his mount to the side and the soldiers, too, drew their kaiila to one side or the other. The young man then stood up, shaking the reins with one hand and cracking the whip with the other. "Move, move, you beasts!" he cried. The tharlarion lumbered into motion and the slack was taken up in the traces, and the wagon, creaking, lurched ahead. The girls were as quiet as tiny, silken field urts in the presence of forest panthers, being conducted in their cage between the ranks of the soldiers.
In a few Ehn we were more than a pasang down the road. It was lonely, and dark.
There was whimpering, and sobbing, behind us.
"The slaves are terrified," I said.
"We shall not camp," said the young man. "We shall press on through the night. I shall stop only, from time to time, to rest the tharlarion."
"That is wise," I said.
"It is not like the Dust Legs," he said.
"That, too, would be my understanding of the matter," I said.
5
I Throw Stones on the Road to Kailiauk
I stepped aside, to the side of the road. It had rained early this morning. The road was still muddy. The men, some afoot, some on kaiila, with the clank of weapons and the rattle of accouterments, filed past me. I looked into the eyes of some of them. They were mercenaries. Yet they belonged to no mercenary company I recognized. Doubtless they had been hired here and there. They wore various uniforms, and parts of uniforms, and carried an assortment of weapons. Some of them, I suspected, might even be men without a Home Stone. They were moving northward, as I was. They, like I, I speculated, were bound for Kailiauk. I took it there were about a thousand of them. This was unusually large for a Gorean mercenary force. It would require a considerable amount of money to hire and sustain such a force.
In the center of the road, approaching, between, and with, the lines, drawn by two tharlarion, was an ornately carved, high, two-wheeled cart. An officer, a bearded fellow with a plumed cap, perhaps the captain of the mercenary company, rode beside this cart. On a curule chair, fixed on the high cart, under a silken canopy, proud and graceful, bedecked with finery, garbed in the ornate Robes of Concealment, veiled, sat a woman. Chained by the neck to the side of the cart, clad in rags, was a red youth.
"Hold!" said the woman, lifting her small, white-gloved hand as the cart drew near to me.
"Hold!" called the officer, turning his kaiila and lifting his hand.
"Hold! Hold!" called other officers.
The lines stopped. The woman lowered her hand.
She regarded me. "Tal," she said.
"Tal, Lady," said I to her.
With one hand, nonchalantly, she freed her outer veil. Her features, then, were concealed but poorly by the second veil, little more than a wisp of diaphanous silk. She did this, apparently, that she might speak to me more easily. She smiled. I, too, smiled, but inwardly. A master might have given such a veil to a slave, as a joke. She was a vain woman. She wished me to see that she was stunningly beautiful. I saw that she might make an acceptable slave.
"I see that you carry a sword," she said.
"Yes, Lady," said I.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"A traveler, a swordsman," I said.
"This is the Lady Mira, of Venna," said the bearded officer. "I am Alfred, captain of this company, mercenary of Port Olni." Venna is a resort town west of the Voltai, north of Ar. Port Olni is located on the north bank of the Olni River. It is a member of the Salerian Confederation.
"Apparently you
do not wish to reveal your name," said the woman.
"The name of a lowly fellow, such as myself," I said, "could surely be of no interest to so fine a lady."
"Are you a bandit?" she asked.
"No, Lady," said I.
"Can you use the blade hung at your hip?" she asked.
"After a fashion, Lady," I said.
"We are hiring swords," she said.
"My thanks, Lady," I said. "I do not wish to take fee."
"Draw your weapon," said the officer.
I drew the blade quickly, smoothly, and stepped back. When a Gorean tells you to draw your blade, it is generally not wise to spend a great deal of time discussing the matter. He may have something in mind.
"Attack him," said the officer to one of the men nearby.
Our blades had not crossed twice before the point of my sword was at the fellow's throat.
"Do not kill him," said the officer hastily.
I resheathed my blade and the fellow, white-faced, backed away.
"A silver tarsk a month," said the officer. This was a handsome sum. I was sure it was more than most of the men about me were receiving.
"Whither are you bound, Captain," I asked, "and on what business!"
"We are going to Kailiauk, and are then going to enter the Barrens," he said. "There are tribes to be subdued."
"I do not understand," I said.
"Surely you have heard of the depredations which took place yesterday?" he asked.
"Your forces were surely assembled before yesterday," I said.
He laughed. I supposed such forces might indeed enter the Barrens and wreak some havoc, perhaps falling upon some Dust-Leg villages. Too often it seems it is the peaceful and innocent who are slaughtered. In this a lesson may be found that it may not be prudential to be either too peaceful or too innocent. One does not survive with wolves by becoming a sheep. That is only a shortcut to destruction.
"There are thousands of savages in the Barrens," I said.
"These men are professionals," he said. "One such mercenary is worth a thousand half-naked savages."
I heard laughter about me.
"They will flee," he said, "at the very sound of our drums."
I said nothing.
'Too long has the perimeter held," he said. "We shall advance it, to the east. The banners of civilization are in our grasp."
I smiled. I wondered if barbarisms were civilizations which were not one's own.
"Are you going to take a woman into the Barrens?" I asked. "Surely you can surmise what the red savages would do with such a woman?"
"I am perfectly safe, I assure you," laughed the Lady Mira. I wondered what she would feel like if she found herself naked and bound with rawhide, lying at the feet of lustful warriors.
"The Lady Mira is of the Merchants," said the officer. "She has been empowered to negotiate hide contracts with the conquered tribes."
"Who is this?" I asked, indicating the red youth, in rags, chained by the neck to the side of the cart.
"Urt, a Dust Leg, a slave," said the officer. "We purchased him in the south. He can speak with Dust Legs, and knows sign."
The boy looked at me, with hatred.
"How long was he a slave?" I asked.
"Two years," said the officer.
"From whom was he originally purchased?" I asked.
"Dust Legs," said the officer.
"It seems unlikely they would sell one of their own tribe," I said.
"They are savages," said the officer.
"You are not a Dust Leg," I said to the boy.
He did not respond to me.
"You will trust your translations to such a fellow?" I asked.
"Our clearest speech," said the officer, "will be with steel."
"You have many men," I said. "Your expedition must be very expensive. Had it been mounted by several cities I think I would have heard of it. Whence comes the gold for these numerous and manifold fees?"
The officer looked at me, angrily.
"We are sustained by the merchant council of Port Olni," said the woman. "Our papers are in order."
"I see," I said.
"Seldom," said the officer, "have I seen steel move as swiftly, as deceptively, as yours. My offer stands. Rations and a silver tarsk, one for each month of service."
"Rations, and a golden tarsk," said the woman, looking down at me. Over her veil of light silk her eyes shone. She had made the offer without consulting the officer. She had obviously much authority and power. I wondered what she would look like, if reduced to helpless bondage.
"My thanks, Lady," I said. "But I am in my own service."
"A position might be found for you, even in my intimate retinue," she said.
"I am in my own service," I said.
"Move on!" she called, lifting her gloved hand, and sitting angrily back in the curule chair.
I stepped to the side of the road.
"Forward!" called the officer, lifting his arm. The lady looked at me, angrily, her gloved hands now clutching the arms of the curule chair. Then she lifted her head and looked directly ahead. "Ho!" called the officer. His arm fell. The lines of mercenaries then moved forward, with the wagon in their midst, northward, toward Kailiauk. I withdrew to the side and sat in some shadows, among rocks, to observe the lines. I estimated the number of men, and, carefully, counted the supply wagons. My conjectures were warranted. Considering the game presumably available in the Barrens there were several more wagons in the lines than would have seemed called for.
When the lines and wagons had passed I emerged from the rocks and, at a distance, followed them toward Kailiauk.
The merchants of Port Olni, of course, would not be sustaining the enormous expense of such an expedition. They were not intimately involved in the hide traffic and, if they had been, as merchants, their procedures, initially, at any rate, would have been mercantile and not military. They would surely have tried, at least in the beginning, to work through local traders or, say, Dust Legs themselves. I had, in my mind, no doubt as to what source on Gor had both the motivation and resources to mount such an expedition. Similarly I had little doubt as to who were the occupants of certain of the closed wagons in the lines.
On the road to Kailiauk I threw back my head and laughed heartily. I, Tarl Cabot, had been approached by agents of Kurii, and asked to take fee! I had little doubt that Kog and Sardak, and others like them, scratched impatiently, and twisted, uncomfortably, anxious to get on with their work, in wagons ahead of me. Such close confinements, even though voluntary and self-imposed, would surely be almost intolerable for them. I admired their discipline. I hoped that it would hold out. It was nice to know where they were.
I bent down and picked up a rock, and tossed it ahead of me, down the road. Then I continued on again, toward Kailiauk.
One additional thing I had noted about the forces ahead of me. There had been no slave wagons in the lines, nor, chained in throat coffle, trudging in the dust behind the supply wagons, any slave girls. That I took to be the doing, and a tribute to the power, of the Lady Mira of Venna. As a free woman she doubtless hated slave girls, the lascivious, shameless sluts who drove men wild with such desire for them. Too, doubtless it pleased her vanity to be the only woman among so many men. I had seen her features, concealed by only a wisp of silk. I wondered what she might look like in dancing silk and a steel collar, perhaps kneeling before me, the shadow of my whip falling across her body. I thought then she might not seem so proud, not as a humbled, owned slave. The Kurii, I granted them, almost always chose female agents of incredible beauty. This is so, I gather, that when they have served their serious purposes, there is always something else that may be done with them.
I spun another rock down the road, after the lines and wagons.
I should not have demonstrated the skill with the sword that I had, I supposed. Indeed, I had resolved, as a part of a disguise, to pretend to only modest skill with the weapon, unless it proved necessary to do otherwi
se. As soon as the two blades had touched, however, I had seen what could be done, and had done it. The matter was reflexive as much, or more, than rational. The steel, as is often the case, had seemed to think for itself. But I did not regret what I had done. I chuckled. Let them see, said I to myself, the skill of one who had once trained in the martial courts of Ko-ro-ba. I laughed. I wondered what these agents of Kurii would think if they had known that Tarl Cabot had been in their midst. But they would have no reason to suppose him in the vicinity of the Barrens. They would know only that they had encountered one who, obviously, was not unaccustomed to steel.
Once again I thought of the Lady Mira of Venna. Yes, I thought, she would look well, like any other beautiful woman, stripped and collared, crawling to the feet of a man.
6
Kailiauk
I looked down into the broad, rounded, shallow pit, leaning over the waist-high wooden railing. In the pit, about five feet below the surface of the ground, there were nineteen girls. They wore wrist and ankle shackles, their wrists having some six inches of play and their ankles some twelve inches of play. They were also chained together by the neck. None of them stood, for such a girl, in such a pit, is not permitted to stand, unless given an express order to do so. The pit was muddy, for it had rained in the morning. They looked up, some of them who dared to do so, at the men looking down at them, from about the circular railing, assessing their qualities as females. Did they look into the eyes of their future masters? They had not yet even been branded.
"Barbarians," said the fellow next to me.
"Clearly," I said.
"There are two other pits," said the fellow. "Did you see them?"
"Yes," I said. "I have already perused their contents." It is pleasant to see naked, chained women, either slaves or those soon to be slaves.
I had spent a night on the road and had arrived in Kailiauk, hungry and muddy, yesterday, shortly after the tenth Ahn, the Gorean noon. Indeed, I had heard the striking of the time bar, mounted on the roof of the Administrator's store, as I had approached the town's outskirts. In Kailiauk, as is not unusual in the towns of the perimeter, the Administrator is of the Merchants. The major business in Kailiauk is the traffic in hides and kaiila. It serves a function as well, however, as do many such towns, as a social and commercial center for many outlying farms and ranches. It is a bustling town, but much of its population is itinerant. Among its permanent citizens I doubt that it numbers more than four or five hundred individuals. As would be expected it has several inns and taverns aligned along its central street.