Renegades of Gor (46 page)

Then he was dead in the corridor.

“Gold,” said one of his fellows, grinning. Then he, and the others with him,

backed down the passage down which I had flung the coins. Then, in a moment,

they had turned, and were scrambling in the dim light for them.

I wiped my blade on the tunic of the fellow who had opposed us.

“You are not Marsias,” said one of the men with us.

“No,” I said. I also relieved the fellow of the contents of his purses. He had

carried three.

One of the men with us closed the door of the passage down which I had flung the

coins.

In a place such as the citadel, under the conditions of war, one is normally

very careful about closed doors. One usually either opens them very carefully,

or flings or kicks them open, standing back from them, waiting. One does not

burst through. One does not know what is on the other side.

“Let us continue,” said another man.

“I smell smoke,” said one of the fellow, supporting Aemilianus.

“There are looters behind us,” said the other.

There was a movement in a side passage.

“Wait,” I said.

(pg.306) A fellow there swiftly leapt up from a naked woman, one with richly

blotched skin and helplessly erected nipple.

“Kneel,” he said to her.

She scrambled to her knees.

Her eyes were wild. She could not move her hands together. They were held apart,

by her waist. The current position of her left hand was just about her left hip,

and of her right hand, just above the right hip. A single narrow cord bound her.

The tie is accomplished as follows: One wrist is tightly encircled by the cord

and bound within it, about eighteen inches in from one end of the cord. The

longer length of the same cord is then taken about her belly and the other wrist

is then tied within it, on the other side of her body, leaving some eighteen

inches of cord on the other side of the tie. The cord is then drawn back about

her belly and the two free ends tied together behind her back, this being done

in such a way that the bond is quite snug. The result is that her hands are held

apart, on opposite sides of her body, and that neither hand can reach a knot,

either at a wrist or behind the back. This tie, it might be noted, positions a

girl’s hands quite near areas of likely predation by a captor. But, too, because

of it, she finds that she is absolutely incapable of interfering with any

attentions to which he chooses to subject her. The waist tie, too, of course, in

a female, given her marvelous beauty, the flaring excitements of her hips and

breasts, cannot be slipped. It is a common capture tie. She looked up at us,

gasping. A circular, overlapping pin had been spread and one end inserted

through her septum, drawn through and allowed to spring back, forming a nose

ring. From this dangled a looped, closed cord, the loop about eighteen inches in

length.

The fellow, crouching, now faced us, sword drawn. “I took her fairly,” he said.

She squirmed in the bonds.

“Was she a free woman?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Did she submit herself to you?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Keep her,” I said. “Of what interest to us is a slave?”

We then continued on our way.

(pg.307) “There is light at the end of the hall,” I said. “The gate is open

there.”

“That is the gate to the landing, and thence to the walkway, leading to the

piers,” said one of the men.

I did not think about it at the time, but if he had thought me of Ar’s Station I

do not think he would have said this. I would have known it.

I suspect now that more than one of these fellows suspected who I might be.

“You should have left me to die by the gate,” said Aemilianus.

“Would you not rather die in the sunlight,” I asked, “in the fresh air, under

the blue sky, the clouds, in sight of the harbor, the river?”

“I would rather die in sight of the walls of Ar,” he said, “that I might spit

upon them.”

“The reinforcements were never intended to arrive,” I said.

“Let us continue on,” said the fellow, he who had also spoken earlier. “I hear

the press of pursuers.”

“I hear women and children,” said another.

“It is shame that I should die before them,” said Aemilianus. “Leave me here,

that I may for a time, while I can hold a sword, detain our pursuers.”

“Bring him along,” I said, and continued toward the gateway.

“And who are you?” asked a fellow.

“One, at least,” I said, “who may be thinking a bit more clearly than others

this afternoon.”

“And why should that be?” asked a man.

“Perhaps I was better fed,” I said.

18
   
The Landing

(pg.308) “Hail, Captain!” called the young fellow with the crossbow, near the

gate leading out onto the landing, from which a walkway gave access, across a

stretch of harbor water, some two hundred yards in width, to the piers. Beyond

the piers, and beyond the wall of rafts, chained together, with which they had

closed the harbor, the Cosians had their ships, five of them. In the harbor,

within the wall of rafts, there was the burned wreckage of ships, and in some

places masts emerged from the water, of ships of Ar’s Station, burned in port.

“Hail, Captain!” called others, lifting their swords.

The landing was crowded with women and children. Some, too, already, had made

their way out to the piers.

“Hail, Commander!” then cried the fellows there, spying Aemilianus.

“Why do they call you Captain?” asked Aemilianus.

“He commanded on the wall!” cried a man. I remember him from the wall. He had

been there.

“It was you who held the wall so long?” asked Aemilianus.

“I and a couple of hundred of your stout fellows, like these,” I said,

indicating the elated young men at my side.

“There are Cosians on the interior walls, overlooking the landing,” said a man.

I looked up. I saw them. Some had their helmets off, (pg.309) cooling their

heads in the breeze, more to be felt at that height.

“They can fire into the crowd,” said a man.

“But they have not done so,” said another.

“They are waiting for the camp commander,” said another.

“I will not go to Cos, naked in a cage,” said Aemilianus to one of his men, one

of the two who had stayed with him. “At the end, then, you know what to do.”

“As you will, Commander,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“How many are here?” I asked one of the fellows about. The landing was packed

with women and children. More were out on the piers.

“Who knows?” he asked. “I think there must be two to three thousand women and

children, and perhaps some four to five hundred men. I do not know.”

“Of all the people of Ar’s Station?” I asked.

“Some fled months ago,” he said, “some even when it was learned the Cosians had

landed at Brundisium, others when it was rumored they were marching on Ar’s

Station. Many escaped before the investment lines were closed. Some bought their

way out, which you could do, in the early days, before the Cosian casualties

were high.”

“Still, I said, “there must have been thousands in the city when the investment

lines were closed.”

“There were,” he said, bitterly.

“And this is all that is left?” I asked.

“There were desertions,” he said.

“Still,” I said.

“Many perished of hunger or disease,” he said. “Doubtless, too, many perished in

the fires.”

I regarded him.

“Many could not reach the citadel,” he said. “Many streets were cut off, even

districts.”

“I understand,” I said.

“Why did the relief of Ar not come?” he asked.

“I do not know,” I told him, though I thought I knew.

“It is said the Cosians did much butchery in the city.”

“Perhaps,” I granted him.

“Beneath the walls of the citadel,” he said, “they paraded (pg.310) loot carts,

and lines of our women, stripped, and trussed as slaves.”

I nodded. I had not been able to see this from the cell, of course, but I did

not doubt but what it was true. It was a touch not untypically Gorean.

“Doubtless even now hundreds of them are packed behind the bar of cage wagons,

being taken to Brundisium, there to be shaved, and then shackled on the tiered

shelves of slave ships, to be embarked for Cos and Tyros.”

“Perhaps,” I said. In actuality, of course, I surmised that many would be

distributed to continental markets, if only to take a quicker profit on them and

avoid deflating the market on the islands. I did not doubt, however, that many

of the most beautiful would indeed find their way to Cos and Tyros, if only as

examples of prize loot. Such, too, might well grace the triumphs of the victors.

Beautiful, naked women look well being marched in golden chains before the war

beasts of masters. Doubtless many would march before Lurius of Jad, Ubar of Cos,

in some grand triumph, though in the fighting he would not have stirred from his

palace in Telnus.

“Still,” he said, “there are many here.”

“Yes,” I said, looking about, at the crowded landing, and the piers out toward

the river. “There are.”

“It will be a terrible slaughter,” he said.

Aemilianus was sitting on the landing near me. A man supported him, holding him

about the shoulders.

I looked up at the interior wall.

“Commander,” I said to him, “many of your people are within missile range from

the wall.”

Indeed, it would be hard to fire into the crowd without scoring a hit.

“I am tired,” he said.

“Many are afraid to go to the piers,” said a man. “They are afraid of the Cosian

ships, that the walls of rafts will be opened, that they will attack. They fear

to leave the landing, the shelter of the wall of the citadel.”

“What shelter?” I asked, angrily.

“Many others,” said a fellow, “fear to tread the walkway.”

“There are sharks about,” said one man.

“See the fins in the water,” said another. “There, there are two!”

(pg.311) “Blood has carried down to the delta,” said another bitterly. “River

sharks have come from as far west as Turmus. The bodies of delta sharks, leaving

the salt water of the delta, bloated, litter the shores between the delta and

Ven.”

“There is even a greater reason to avoid the walkway,” said another man,

bitterly.

“What is that?” I asked.

He did not explain himself.

Suddenly Aemilianus looked at me. “What did you say?” he asked.

I crouched down beside him.

“Move your people out to the piers,” I said. “The walkway can be destroyed

behind them. Then the Cosians can approach only by water.”

“There is no food there,” said a man.

“There is none here either,” I said.

“It makes no difference,” said Aemilianus, wearily.

“It is the militarily appropriate action,” I said.

“It is hard to see,” he said, suddenly.

“Make a litter,” I said. “Carry the commander to the piers.”

“I have a net,” said a fellow.

Two spears were thrust through the net, about two feet apart, and Aemilianus was

placed on it.

He opened his eyes.

“There are Cosians on the wall!” he said.

“They have been there,” I said.

“Why have the people not been withdrawn to the piers?” he asked.

“The orders have not been issued,” I said.

“Where is Marcus Tulvinius?” he asked.

“Here,” said an officer.

“Withdraw to the piers,” he said.

“It cannot be done,” he said.

Aemilianus struggled to focus his eyes on him.

“The walkway has been interdicted,” he said. “The people on the piers made it

there earlier, before the Cosians came to the inner wall. You can see the bodies

of some of those who tried it later. Make a move toward it, and it will covered

by a hundred crossbows.”

(pg.312) “It seems,” said Aemilianus, “that we may choose to die here, or

there.”

“I would choose to make matters less convenient for Cosians,” I said.

Aemilianus smiled.

“The situation is hopeless,” said the officer. “I shall treat for terms.”

“With Cosians?” smiled Aemilianus.

“Look!” cried a fellow. “On the wall!”

We now saw a tall figure there, behind the ramparts, one whose helmet was

surmounted by a crest of sleen hair. There were standards held behind him.

“It is the camp commander!” cried a fellow.

“Commander?” asked the officer.

“Do as you will,” said Aemilianus, wearily.

The officer turned about and, drawing from beneath his cloak a white sheet,

which he had apparently concealed there, lifted it, and approached the base of

the wall.

This action seemed to be greeted with derision from the Cosians. One could see

no reaction from the fellow with the helmet, with its crest of sleen hair.

“Aemilianus asks terms!” called the officer, up to the wall.

I saw the fists of Aemilianus, in the improvised litter, clench.

There was laughter from the wall.

“Let your women strip themselves stark naked,” called a fellow down from the

wall, “and present themselves one by one at the gate for our appraisal.”

“Perhaps some will be found pleasing,” said another fellow.

“The throats of the others will be cut!” laughed another from the height of the

wall.

The tall figure on the height of the wall, the standards behind him, betrayed no