Mercenaries of Gor coc-21 Read online

  "Shall I summon guardsmen?" he asked.

  "No," I said.

  "Well?" said he.

  "Do you have a witnessed, certified document attesting to the alleged contents of your purse?" I asked. "Too, was the purse closed with an imprinted seal, its number corresponding to the registration number of the certification document?" "Yes," he said.

  "Oh," I said.

  "Here," he said. "I think you will find everything in order."

  I had forgotten the fellow was from Tabor.

  "This document seems a bit old," I said. "Doubtless it is no longer current, no longer an effective legal instrument. As you can see, it is dated two weeks ago. Where are you going?"

  "To fetch guardsmen," he said.

  "It will do," I said.

  I then, without great pleasure, restored to the determined, inflexible fellow the amount in full which he had earlier, and of his own free will, as I did not fail to remind him, bestowed on my friend, Hurtha.

  "I would also like something for my trouble," he said.

  "A silver tarsk will be sufficient."

  "Of course," I said. He then, now seemingly content, left. How little it takes to please some people. I decided I must speak with Hurtha. I returned to the campfire.

  "I will take some of the spiced verr cubes," I said.

  "Alas," said Hurtha, "we have finished them. You should have invited my friend to sup with us."

  "I did," I said. "But he did not agree to do so." "It is perhaps just as well," said Hurtha, "as there is not much left. What did he want?"

  "Oh, nothing," I said.

  "Interesting," mused Hurtha.

  "He just wanted to make certain that you were enjoying yourself," I said. "A splendid fellow," said Hurtha.

  "Hereafter," I said, "before you decide to apply for a loan or consider accepting an unusually generous gift, particularly while carrying an ax, at least while we are traveling together, I would appreciate it if you would take me into your confidence, if you would consult with me about it first."

  "Of course, my dear friend," said Hurtha, "anything you like."

  I regarded him.

  "Did I do anything wrong?" he asked.

  "No," I said.

  "That is a relief," he said. "One must be so careful in one's dealings with civilized folks."

  "Hurthaa€”" I said.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "Nothing," I said.

  "You told me, or led me to believe, as I recall, that there could be no possible objection to fellows making me loans or bestowing gifts upon me," he said. "That is true," I said.

  "It is not my fault," he said, "if a complete stranger takes a liking to me and instantaneously decides to make me a fine gift,"

  "Of course not," I said.

  "You see," he said.

  "Just consult with me first, hereafter, if you would," I said.

  "Of course, my dear fellow," he said.

  "I am now nearly destitute," I said.

  "Have no fear," he said. "Half of what I have is yours!"

  "That would come to about seven copper tarsks, as I recall," I said.

  "Precisely," said Hurtha. "What is left to eat?" I asked.

  "Not much, I am afraid," said Hurtha.

  "Is there paga?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Give it to me," I said.

  7 We get a late start; Boabissia Is Encouraged to Silence

  "So at last we are upon our way, you lazy sleen," said Boabissia, lurching on the wagon box. "I thought it would never come about!"

  "Please," said Mincon. "My head."

  "It is well past noon!" said Boabissia.

  "How do you feel?" I asked Mincon.

  "I am sober now," said Mincon. "At least I see but one road ahead." "You did very well," Hurtha congratulated me. "I had not known those of the cities could drink so much."

  "We can do many wonderful things," I said, "when we are properly motivated." If one kept one's eyes closed it was easier to avoid the glare from the light on the stones. One could hold onto the edge of the wagon bed with one hand. To be sure, it increased the likelihood of stepping into potholes.

  Hurtha fell against the side of the wagon. "Are you all right?" I asked. "Certainly," he said.

  "You are all monsters, and lazy sleen," said Boabissia. "I am sure, now, we will never catch up with the others, surely not until after dark!"

  "That is my concern," said Mincon, blinking shaking his head.

  "Then I suggest you attend to it," said Boabissia.

  "Please," begged Mincon.

  "I think I shall see that you are reported to the wagon officer," she said. "Surely he would have something to say about your broad-minded attitudes toward schedules, your unconscionable delays, your neglect of your duties. Do you think you are being paid to take your time? You have stores to deliver!" "Please," said Mincon. "Please!"

  Boabissia had been a pain all morning. Scarcely had we been permitted to sleep. Even before dawn, when others were having their breakfasts, and later, in the vicinity of dawn, when the other wagons were preparing to leave camp, we had been urged to bestir ourselves.

  "We are alone on the road," said Boabissia. "You have deprived us of the safety of numbers. This could well be dangerous! Why did you not listen to me? What if we should be set upon by brigands?"

  I hoped that would not happen, as I was not certain I could find my sword. Ah, yes there it was, somehow in its sheath, over my left shoulder. The only problem, then, would be in attempting to dislodge it from its housing.

  "Brigands might only slay you," said Boabissia, "but I am a free woman! I have much more to fear! I might be put in a collar, and made a slave. Like those sluts in the back! You could of thought of me! You never think of me!"

  How is it, I wondered, that each time I put my foot down, my head hurts. That was interesting. Could it be normal? There was nothing in the codes of warriors, as I recalled, that explicitly demanded resistance to brigands, though perhaps it was presupposed. It was an interesting interpretative question, probably one calling for the attention of high councils. If I were beheaded by a brigand's sword. I mused, I would be ridded of this headache. To be sure, such a remedy can be used but once. That is a count against it. Too, it was not true that we never thought of Boabissia. We often thought of her. In fact, I was thinking of her now.

  "Men are such beasts," she said, "tarsks, miserable drunken sleen!" Tula and Feiqa, too, however, if it had to be known, had not been feeling too well. They were both sleeping in the back of the wagon. It had been with difficulty that Hurtha and I had managed to put them there. We would not have left them, of course. We were far to alert for that. Too, one does not leave Tulas and Feiqas simply lying about. They are far too desirable, far too luscious. To be sure, we had forgotten to chain them up last night, or rather, this morning, but neither, it seemed, as far as we could tell, had pondered escape.

  "Oh!" cried Hurtha.

  "Wait!" I said to Mincon.

  "Here," I said to Hurtha, going to where he had stumbled off the road. I drew him up, with two hands, from the ditch. Fortunately it was not deep. "Hold to the side of the wagon," I advised him. He clutched it with both hands. In a moment we were again on our way.

  "Drunken tarsks, all of you!" said Boabissia.

  We were not drunk, of course. Last night, perhaps, we might have been a little drunk.

  "Would you like some paga?" asked Hurtha, hospitably, clinging grimly to the wagon.

  "No," I said.

  "There is none left," said Boabissia.

  "It is all gone?" asked Hurtha, in dismay.

  "Yes," she Boabissia.

  "All of it?" he pressed.

  "Yes," she said.

  I did not find this report disquieting.

  "It is possible, of course," said Hurtha. "I am an Alar."

  I heard Tula twist in the wagon, and groan. They had been lovely last night, in the firelight, naked, in their collars. More than once we had put do
wn some ka-la-na for them, in pans. Too, particularly when they had licked and begged, and with sufficient fervor and skill, and prettiness, we had put dishes on the ground for them. It was only the first time, I think, that Tula was genuinely surprised when she found herself caught at her dish by Mincon. How incredibly beautiful and desirable are women. How marvelous are slaves!

  "If you had listened to me," said Boabissia to Mincon, "we would have been on the road more than four Ahn ago!" I swung up to the wagon box I looked about in the wagon bed.

  "We would then not be so far behind the others," she said. "Oh!" she said. Boabissia looked at me angrily.

  "Good," said Mincon.

  With my thumb I pressed the small sack more deeply into her mouth, until her lovely sometimes irritating oral orifice was well stuffed with it. The small sack had drawstrings. These I took to the sides and yanked back, drawing them deeply back between her teeth, and then knotted them tightly behind the back of her neck. I could not make out what she was saying.

  "Be silent," I said to her.

  She stopped saying whatever it was she was saying.

  "You will leave this as it is," I said, "until one of the men with the wagon sees fit to remove it."

  She looked at me.

  "If you should remove it yourself, or attempt to do so," I said, "it will be promptly replaced, or resecured, and you will be stripped and put in slave bracelets, your hands behind your back. Furthermore, you will then be put on a rope and will follow the wagon, naked, and so braceleted and gagged, as might a slave. Do you understand? If so, nod, Yes."

  Boabissia looked at me in fury. And then, tears in her eyes, she nodded. I then returned to the road.

  "It is more peaceful now," said Hurtha.

  Boabissia struck down at the lid of the wagon box, serving as her bench, with her small fists. But she did not attempt to dislodge the device by means of which, in accordance with the will of men, she had been silenced.

  "Yes," I said.

  8 Evidence of a Disquieting Event Is Found

  "There is smoke ahead," said Mincon, pulling back on the reins, halting the wagon. He and Boabissia rose to their feet, looking ahead. I climbed on the spokes of the front wheel, near Boabissia. It was now late in the afternoon. The gag which I had fixed on her somewhat after the noon hour, shortly after we had begun our day' journey, I had, after an Ahn or two, loosened and pulled free. She was then somewhat subdued, knowing that it could be instantly replaced at our least irritation. It now, if only as a reminder, on its strings, still wet, hung loosely about her neck.

  "What is it?" asked Hurtha.

  "I do not know," I said.

  Feiqa and Tula, kneeling on sacks in the back of the wagon, moved about a little. They had been very quiet all afternoon. I think that they had not wished to call attention to themselves. After all, they were there, riding in the wagon, and not afoot, on their tethers, behind it. Was this not almost like being a privileged free woman? To be sure, they were in the back of the wagon, where cargo is kept, in collars and slave tunics, and were kneeling. Slave girls can be very clever in such ways. Mincon and I, of course, indulgently pretended not to notice this.

  "What is it?" asked Boabissia.

  "I do not know," I said.

  Feiqa and Tula, frightened, kneeling in the back of the wagon, looked at one another. They were goods.

  "Remain here," I said. "I will investigate."

  "I am coming with you," said Hurtha.

  I nodded. I would welcome the company of the Alar. "I think there is trouble," said Mincon.

  "Watch for our signal," I said.

  I stepped down from the wheel and unsheathed my sword. I began then to advance down the road. Hurtha took his ax from the wagon and followed me.

  The man lifted his hand, weakly, as though to fend a blow.

  "Do not fear," I told him.

  "Are you not with them?" he asked.

  "No," I said.

  "They came," he said, "as though from nowhere."

  "They emerged from covered pits," I said, "dug near the road."

  "They were suddenly everywhere, all about us, crying out, with reddened blades," he said, "and merciless. They were swift. We could not resist them. We are not soldiers. Then they were gone."

  "Are there any other survivors?" I asked.

  "I do not know," he said.

  "There are others," I said, looking over the road.

  "Yes," he said.

  Free women had come to the road. They were now poking through the wreckage and ashes, moving bodies about, hunting for loot, or food. I did not think there would be much left for them.

  The smell of smoke hung heavy in the still air.

  "When did this happen?" I asked.

  "An Ahn, perhaps two Ahn ago," he said. "I do not know."

  He sat wearily beside the road, his head in his hands.

  "It was more likely two Ahn," I said. "Their work here has been finished." "There are only the women now," he said, bitterly.

  "Yes," I said. "Now there are only the women."

  I looked about myself. Had the terrain been properly scouted, had the wagons been properly guarded, this thing presumably could not have happened, or, surely, not in as devastating a fashion as this.

  "Ar has struck," said Hurtha, grimly.

  "I do not think this is the work of the troops of Ar," I said.

  "But who else?" he asked.

  "I do not know," I said.

  "But what troops?" he asked.

  "This does not look to me like the work of regular troops," I said. "Consider the wagons, the bodies."

  The wagons had not merely been burned, that their cargoes might be destroyed, but, clearly, had been ransacked. Wrappings, sackings and broken vessels lay strewn about. Several bodies, it seemed, had been hastily examined. Some had been stripped of articles of clothing. I had found none with their wallets intact. In some cases digits had been cut away, presumably to free rings.

  "Mercenaries," said Hurtha.

  "It would seem so," I said. It is difficult to control such men. Most commanders, in certain situations, will give them their head. Indeed, in certain circumstances the attempt to impose discipline upon them can be extremely dangerous. It is something like informing the hunting sleen, eager, hot from the chase, his jaws red with blood, that he should now relinquish his kill. It must be understood, of course, that the average mercenary looks upon loot as his perquisite. He regards it, so to speak, as a part of his pay. Indeed, the promise of loot is almost always one of the recruiter's major inducements. "Cosian mercenaries?" asked Hurtha.

  "Who knows?" I said. It did not seem to me impossible that some of the mercenary troops with the Cosian army might have doubled back to strike at one of their own supply columns. Surely the paucity of protection provided for such columns would not have escaped their notice.

  I looked at the women, poking about amidst the wreckage. It had not taken them long to arrive. I could see some others, too, coming just now, from between the hills. Perhaps they had camps nearby. The wagons were in a long line, about a pasang long, Some, too, were off the road. Some were overturned. Most showed signs of fire. There were few tharlarion in evidence. Harnesses had been cut and they, it seems, had either been driven away or had wandered off. In one place there was a dead tharlarion, and the women, some crouching on it, were cutting it into pieces with knives, putting pieces of meat into their mouths, and hiding other pieces in their dresses.

  "Jards," said Hurtha, in disgust.

  I shrugged. These women were of the peasants. They were not given to the niceties of civilized women. Too, they were doubtless starving.

  "Jards" said Hurtha.

  "Even the jard desires to live," I said.

  "It is not unknown that such women come to the fields," he said, "and even when not hungry."

  "That is true," I said. Perhaps all women belonged in collars.

  "We could probably follow the raiders," he said.

  "Probably," I s
aid. The trail was doubtless still fresh enough to permit this. One man, who knows what he is doing, can be extremely difficult to follow. It is extremely difficult, on the other hand, for a large group of men to cover their traces.

  "Shall we do so?" asked Hurtha.

  "Do you really wish to catch up with them?" I asked.

  "I suppose not," he said.

  "It is not our business," I said. "It is the business of those of Cos." Hurtha nodded.

  "Perhaps you should signal Mincon," I said.

  Hurtha walked back to the top of the small rise in the road. From there he could look back to where we had left the wagon. I saw him standing there, on the crest. He lifted his ax and beckoned that the others might now join us.

  "Are you all right?" I asked the fellow by the side of the road.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Are you not hurt?" I asked. "I hid," he said. "I think no one saw me. I am sick. That is all. I am all right."

  "We have a wagon," I told him. "You are welcome to ride with us to the next camp."

  "Thank you," he said.

  "You do not know who did this?" I asked.

  "No," he said.

  I saw the head of Mincon's tharlarion come over the rise, moving about, on its long neck, scanning the road, and then, in a moment, the wagon. I advanced to meet it.

  Boabissia sat white-faced on the wagon box. I recalled that she was not Alar by blood. Her makeshift gag still hung about her neck. "It is not necessary to look," I told her.

  "What went on here?" asked Mincon. "Those of Ar?"

  "We do not know," said Hurtha.

  Feiqa looked sick. Even Tula, of the peasants, was pale.

  "Slaves," I said, "lie on your bellies in the wagon." This would bring their heads below the sides of the wagon.

  Boabissia looked at me.

  "There is nothing we can do," I said.

  She nodded.

  "Are you all right?" I asked.

  "If we had left this morning, with the others," she whispered, "we would have been here."

  "Yes, I said. "But we might have survived. Doubtless some have survived. There are usually survivors. Even now word has probably been brought to the contingents ahead on the road."