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Rogue of Gor

Page 35

by John Norman


  "Perhaps it is there where we, too, should be," mused Callimachus.

  "The chain does seem fearfully strong," I said. Neither Callimachus nor myself had seen the chain until we had come westward. We had been unprepared for its impressiveness. It represented an engineering feat of no mean proportions. Although we retained our theoretical reservations about its effectiveness, these reservations, in the very presence of the chain, seemed, to my relief, less alarming, and more tenuous and abstract, than they had in the urgent discussions which had taken place in the tavern of Tasdron. It was easy to understand, now, why those who had seen the chain tended to be more confident of its effectiveness than those who had not. I listened to the creaking of the mighty links, and to the water lapping at the sides of our galley, and to the occasional cries of Vosk gulls.

  "Perhaps the Voskjard does fear the chain," I said.

  "There is surely enough predation west of the chain for him," said Callimachus.

  "I would think so," I said.

  I looked over the rail, to the great wooden, iron-shod ram, which protruded, in part, from the water. I looked over the starboard rail, and saw the great, curved shearing blade, fixed in the side of the vessel. Its mate, anchored, too, in the strakes, forward of the oars, reposed on the port side. These blades were seven feet in height, like convex moons of iron. It is said that such blades were an invention of Tersites, a shipwright of Port Kar. I returned to stand beside Callimachus.

  "You have not fought on the water before, have you?" he asked.

  "No," I said.

  I could now scarcely see the Mira and the Talender, so thick was the fog.

  "It is cold," said Callimachus.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Callimachus," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Do you think the Voskjard will come?" I asked.

  "I do not think so, now," said Callimachus.

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "The chain is strong," said Callimachus. "Too, it seems his fleet should have arrived at the chain by now, did it intend to do so."

  "Then you do not think he will come?" I asked.

  "I do not think so," said Callimachus.

  "An engagement upon the water must be a terrible thing," I said.

  "I am of the Warriors," said Callimachus. He licked his lips. I shuddered. I wondered what had been his experiences, and what he knew that I did not. I feared him then, in that moment. For an instant I felt I no longer knew him. I felt, in that instant, that he might be a man of a different sort than I.

  "Are you frightened?" asked Callimachus.

  "Yes," I said.

  "That is natural," he said.

  "What are the numbers involved?" I asked.

  Callimachus grinned. "That is a warrior's question," he said.

  "Surely we have intelligence on this matter," I said.

  "It is conjectured," said Callimachus, "that the Voskjard is stronger than Policrates. It is thought he commands some fifty ships and twenty-five hundred men. We have better information on Policrates. He commands forty ships and some two thousand men."

  "United, they would become a mighty force," I said.

  "To be sure," said Callimachus, "and yet some fifty ships can be brought into the river by Port Cos, and some forty-five by Ar's Station. Accordingly in an engagement of fleets Port Cos and Ar's Station, acting together, would bring to bear the superior forces."

  "How many ships of Ar's Station support us at the chain?" I asked.

  "Ten," said Callimachus. "They would provide no more."

  "How many ships of Port Cos?" I asked.

  "Ten at the chain, and twenty in the vicinity of the south guard station," said Callimachus.

  "Thirty, in all," I said.

  "There are another twenty at Port Cos, of course," said Callimachus. "They are, however, held there to defend the town, if need be."

  "How many independent ships?" I asked.

  "Seven," said Callimachus. "Two from Victoria, two from Jort's Ferry, two from Point Alfred, and one from Fina." Jort's Ferry and Point Alfred lie west of Ar's Station, and tend to follow the lead of Ar's Station, favoring generally the politics of Ar.

  "We have, then, forty-seven ships upon the river," I said.

  "Yes," said Callimachus.

  "And it is estimated that the Voskjard's fleet numbers some fifty ships?"

  "Yes," said Callimachus.

  "It would seem, then," I said, "that the odds are approximately even."

  "Or, with the chain, perhaps in our favor?" said Callimachus.

  "It might seem so," I mused.

  "But you are skeptical?" he asked.

  "Our ships are scattered," I said. "They patrol the chain."

  "And the fleet of the Voskjard can, at will, attack at any given point."

  "Cutting the chain," I said, "they could, in one or more successive engagements, outnumber and destroy the defending ships."

  "You think like a warrior," said Callimachus.

  "Our hope, of course," I said, "is that they can be held behind the chain long enough to permit the massing of our full forces."

  "Of course," said Callimachus.

  "You said, earlier," I said, "that you did not think we could stop an attack in force upon the chain."

  "That is true," he said.

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "Consider the matter," he said. "Those from Ar's Station are essentially infantrymen of Ar, put at the oars of galleys. They are unfamiliar with naval warfare. And the independent ships, like the Tina, are not manned by warriors, but by volunteers, stalwart but untrained fellows, mostly of lower castes. Our defensive force, in effect, is the fleet of Port Cos."

  "It is then, you feel," I said, apprehensively, "in effect some thirty ships, those of Port Cos, against the fleet of the Voskjard?"

  "Substantially so," agreed Callimachus.

  "Why, then, are you here?" I asked.

  "I am of the Warriors," said Callimachus.

  "I see," I said.

  "Why are you here?" he asked.

  "I do not know," I said.

  "You are here," he said, "because you, too, are of the Warriors."

  "I am not of the Warriors," I said.

  "Not everyone who is of the Warriors knows that he is of the Warriors," said Callimachus.

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "I have seen it," said Callimachus, "in your eyes, that you are of the Warriors."

  "You are mad," I said.

  "Ten thousand years ago," he said, "in the mixings of bloods, and in the rapings of conquered maids, the caste has chosen you."

  "You are mad," I told him.

  "We shall see, shortly," said he. He drew his sword.

  "Why are you drawing your sword?" I asked.

  "Surely you can hear?" he asked.

  "What?" I said. "What?"

  "I was wrong," he said. "I thought there might be no battle."

  "I do not understand," I said.

  "Yet," said Callimachus, "if the Tamira were truly the scout ship of Ragnar Voskjard, and if she crossed the chain westward four days ago, and a rendezvous was made in the river, in the vicinity of the holding of Ragnar Voskjard, the times involved are not inappropriate."

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "Can you not hear it?" he asked.

  "I hear nothing!" I cried. "You are mad!" I heard only the water at the strakes, the creaking of the chain, the sound of oars restless in the thole ports, the far-off cries of occasional Vosk gulls.

  "There is nothing," I whispered.

  Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck lifted and froze.

  "See?" asked Callimachus, lifting his sword, and pointing out, into the fog.

  "No," I said. I could not see anything in the fog. But, now, clearly, I could hear it.

  Then, suddenly, through a rift in the fog I saw, not more than a hundred yards away, across the chain, what seemed a countless number of ships.

  "It is the fleet of Ragn
ar Voskjard," he said. There was an elation which I found incomprehensible in his voice.

  I stood, for the moment unable to move, on the deck, at the bow, below the stem castle of the galley.

  "Your sword is in your hand," smiled Callimachus.

  I could not remember unsheathing it.

  "Sound the battle horns!" called Callimachus to the men on the ship. "Sound the battle horns!"

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 1982 by John Norman

  Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media

  ISBN 978-1-4976-0083-6

  This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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