Mercenaries of Gor (36 page)

"It is a fine sight," said a fellow, climbing up through the cart gate, and standing beside me for a moment, to look down on the city.

"Yes," I said.

He returned to his place.

From where we were, of course, we could not see dirt and crime, or poverty or hunger. We could not detect pain, misery and greed. We could not feel loneliness and woe. And yet, for all these things, which so afflict so many of its own, how impressive is the city. How precious it must be, that so many men are willing to pay its price. I wondered why this was, I a voyager and soldier, more fond of the tumultuous sea and the wind-swept field than the street and plaza. Perhaps because it is alive, like drums and trumpets. To be near it or within it, to be stirred by its life, to call its cylinders their own, is for many reward enough.

(pg. 258) The last fellow, climbing up and closing the gate behind him, took his seat.

I did not take my eyes from the city, so splendid before us. Yes, I thought, it is all there, the habitats of culture, the intricate poetries of stone, the incredible places where, their heads among clouds, common bricks have been taught to speak and sing, the meanings uttered scarcely understood by those who walk among them; yes it is all there, in them, in the cities, I thought; in them were dirt and crime, iron and silver, gold and steel; in them were perfume and silk, and whips and chains; in them were love and lust' in them were mastery and submission, the owning and the helplessly being owned' in them were intrigue and greed, nobility and honor, deceit and treachery, the exalted and the base, the strong and the weak. In such places, filthy, and crowded and frail, are found the fortresses of man. They are castles and prisons, arenas and troves, they are cities; they are the citadels of civilization.

The driver called to his tharlarion and shook the reins.

"Ahead!" he called to the beast. "Move!"

I returned to my seat, the cart beginning to move.

"You have seen Ar before?" said a man.

"Yes," I said.

"It is then an old thing for you," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"You will have to forgive me," he said. "But I found it quite astonishing, this first time."

"It often affects one that way, the first time," I said.

"I suppose so," he said.

The cart continued to move down the incline. I noted the sound of the narrow, metal-rimmed wheels on the stones. I watched the walls of Ar grow closer. (pg. 259)

21
   
Within the Walls of Ar

"Are you come from Torcadino?" asked the man.

"Yes," I said.

"Thousands of you are in the city," he said, "from Torcadino and other places."

I nodded. I had never, myself, seen Ar so crowded.

"We need no more of you refugees here," snapped a woman, a seller of suls at the Teiban Market.

"We seek lodging in the city," I said to the man.

"Lodging is dear," he said. "It is difficult to know what to tell you." He glanced at Feiqa, who put down her head. She was kneeling behind me, to my left, my pack still on her back. She had knelt when we had stopped, and begun to speak to the free person. This was appropriate, of course, for she was a slave. Her location was approximately what it had been when she had been following me, in the heeling position. "She," he said, "you could sleep in the street, chaining her by the neck to a ring, perhaps putting her in an iron belt, but that sort of thing will not do for free folks."

"No," I said.

"You could try the southern insulae," he said, "such as those below the Plaza of Tarns."

"The Anbar district?" I asked, skeptically.

"Or those of the Metellan Quarter," he said.

"What about east of the Avenue of the Central Cylinder?" I asked.

"There is the District of Trevelyan," he said.

"That sounds nice," said Boabissia.

"We would hope to survive the night," I said.

"You know the city?" he asked.

(pg. 260) "I have been here before," I said.

"You are two big fellows," he said. "I doubt that anyone would bother you."

"If they do bother us," said Hurtha, "It is my hope that they are carrying coins."

"We do not have much to steal," I told the man.

"You have a free female there," he said. "Such can bring their prices in certain places."

"I am not afraid," said Boabissia.

"Brave and noble girl," he said.

"I can take care of myself," said Boabissia.

"To be sure," he said, "her price could be lowered for stupidity."

"I am not stupid," said Boabissia.

"Forgive me," he said. "From your remark I thought that perhaps you were."

Boabissia regarded him in fury.

The fellow regarded her. It was one of those looks which, in effect, undress a woman, exposing all her lineaments, careless of her will, to his view.

"Do not look at me in that way," she said. "I am free."

He continued to consider her, perhaps now as she might look trembling, suing for his favor, in chains at his feet.

"You are not veiled," he said.

"I am an Alar woman," she said.

"No," said Hurtha. "She is not an Alar."

"I have been with the wagons," she said.

"That is true," said Hurtha.

Boabissia, as I have mentioned, did not much resemble the typical Alar woman. She seemed of a much different type, that of the delicious, soft women of the cities, the sort which are generally put on slave blocks. Indeed, I suspected that her origin might be urban.

"What district do you think we might try?" I asked the fellow.

"Regardless of this free woman," he said, "you have something of value there," He indicated Feiqa. She put down her head, appraised.

"What district do you think we might try?" I asked.

(pg. 261) "I have suggested several," he said.

"Ar is a large city," I said.

"Are you looking for decent lodging?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Are you willing to pay a silver tarsk a night?" he asked.

"No," I said. We could not afford that.

"Then I do not think you will find any," he said.

"I thank you, Citizen," I said, "for your time."

"Is it true," he asked, "that there are considerable Cosian forces in the vicinity of Torcadino?"

"Yes," I said.

"They have taken the city?" he asked.

"I do not think so," I said.

"But the refugees," he said, "so many of them."

"They have been turned out of the city to make its defense more practical," I said.

"The main forces of Cos," he said, "are said to be advancing on Ar's Station."

"I doubt that," I said.

"That would make sense," he said. "The Cosians want the river, and the control of its basin. That is what the trouble is all about. That is why their major move will be there. Too, it is probably no more than a raid."

"Ar is in danger," I said.

"They would never dare to meet us in pitched battle," he said.

"Ar is in great danger," I said.

"Ar is invincible," he said.

"The main forces of Cos are as close as Torcadino," I said.

"Rumors are rampant," he said. "One does not know what to think."

"I trust the regent, your high councils, your military leaders, the general staff, and such, are well informed."

"Doubtless," he said.

"Where is Marlenus?" I asked.

"In the Voltai," said the fellow. "On a punitive expedition against Treve." That, too, had been my information.

"He has been absent for months, has he not?" I asked.

(pg. 262) "Yes," he said.

"Does this not seem strange to you?" I asked.

"He does as he chooses," said the man. "He is Ubar."

"Is the city content that he should be absent in what may be perilous times?" I asked.

"If there were any true danger," said the man, "he would swiftly return. He has not returned. Thus there is no true danger."

"You do not think there is any real danger?" I asked.

"No," said the man. "Any one of our lads could bet a dozen Cosians."

"It seems to me Marlenus should return," I said.

The man shrugged.

"Perhaps they have lost contact with him, in the reaches of the Voltai."

"Perhaps," said the man. "But the city does not need him."

"The Ubar is no popular?" I asked.

"He has held power in Ar for a long time," said the man. "Perhaps it is time for a change."

"Do many think so?" I asked.

"Such voices are heard here and there," he said, "in the taverns, the markets, the baths. Gnieus Lelius is an excellent regent. Marlenus is too bellicose. The city is sound. We are not threatened. He squabble with Cos is peripheral to our interests."

"Is Gnieus Lelius interested in being Ubar?" I asked.

"No," said the fellow. "He is far too modest, too humble and unpretentious for that sort of thing. The folds of the purple cloak, the weight of the Ubar's medallion, are of no interest to him. He cares only for excellent governance, and the peace and prosperity of the city."

"But you are sure he is interested in the welfare of Ar?" I asked.

"Of course," said the fellow. That answer was reassuring to me. This Gnieus Lelius, if truly interested in the welfare of Ar, must act. If he had flaws as a regent presumably they might be due to his lack of information, or perhaps to a certain unwarranted optimism, or untutored innocence or (pg. 263) naivety. Such things are not uncommon among idealists, so tender and thoughtful, so loving and trusting, prisoners of verbalisms, dazzled by inventions and dreams, projecting their own benevolence unto the larl and the forests, skeptical of reality, construing the world in the metaphor of the flower. What consolation is it for others if they should eventually discover they live in a world of facts, if disillusioned they should eventually recognize their errors, living to see the harvests of their foolishness, living to see their civilization split asunder, to see their world fall bleeding under the knives of power and reality.

"What of Seremides, the high general?" I asked. "Might he not ascend the throne?"

"Unthinkable," said the man. "He is as loyal as the stones of the Central Cylinder itself."

"I see," I said. My question had not been prompted, of course, merely by the obvious consideration that the Ubar's cloak might seem an attractive prize to a strong, ambitious man, but by the sober understanding that Ar was in a situation of crisis, whether she knew it or not. In such times, of course, in the light of the failures and ineffectuality of an inept civilian administration, it is not unknown for military men, seeing what must be done, simply responding to the imperatives of survival, to take power and attempt to instill the will, the discipline and order without which catastrophe cannot be diverted.

"But surely it is not anticipated that the governance of Ar will long remain under a regency." I said.

"Marlenus is expected back soon," said the man.

"Suppose, however," I suggested, "he does not soon return?"

"Then there is another possibility," he said, "an interesting one."

"What is that?" I asked.

"A Ubara," he said.

"A Ubara?" I asked.

"She who was, until forsworn, the daughter of Marlenus," he said.

"Oh?" I asked.

(pg. 264) "Talena," he said. "Have you heard of her?"

"Yes," I said.

"Marlenus was dissatisfied with her," said the fellow. "It had to do with some business in the Northern forests. He swore her from him, making her no longer his daughter. For years she has lived in obscurity, sequestered in the Central Cylinder. Now, with the absence of Marlenus, and the generosity of Gnieus Lelius, she is carried once again, in the streets of Ar."

"I gather that would not be in accord with the will of Marlenus," I said.

"Marlenus is not here," he said.

"Why would one think of her in the terms of a Ubara?' I asked. "Sworn from Marlenus, she is no longer his daughter."

"I am not a scribe of the law," he said. "I do not know."

"I do not think she has a Home Stone," I said.

"Gnieus Lelius permitted her to kiss the Home Stone," he said. "It was done in a public ceremony. She is once again a citizeness of Ar."

"Gnieus Lelius seems a generous, noble fellow," I said.

"He is a patron of the arts," said the fellow. "He has founded parks and museums. He has won the support of the elite in this fashion. I myself favor him for he has remitted certain classes of debts. This has considerably eased my financial burdens. The lower castes are fond of him for he frequently, at his own expense, distributes free bread and paga, and sponsors games and races. He has also declared new holidays. He has made life better and easier in Ar. He is much supported by the people.