Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  I then kicked it away from him.

  “It seems the day is yours,” I said.

  “That it is,” he whispered.

  “Rest,” I said to him.

  He slumped back against the rear of the upper battlements, not far from one of

  the rings there.

  I could hear the ringing of swords, the clash of metal on shields, from both the

  right and left.

  I then went to the slave, kneeling on the walkway, facing the stone backing of

  the upper battlements, tethered there. Her head was actually turned sharply to

  the left she was fastened so closely to the ring by the leash. I saw that the

  young fellow, though he might be young, had an instinctive sense for the

  handling and owning of women.

  I took the thong which had originally bound her ankles, which I had earlier

  removed from them on the upper battlements, and looped it and about the ropes on

  her back, and put it beside me on the stone. I then, holding her wrists, and

  (pg.297) by means of them, moving them back and forth, as she whimpered, and

  drawing them more closely together, slowly worked her arms more behind her under

  the ropes. I then, when I could, crossed her wrists and tied them with the

  thong, her arms still under the ropes. I then loosened one end of the long rope

  bound about her body and tied it to the ring. I then loosened the other end,

  too, and tucked it loosely in among the lower coils, near the waist. She

  whimpered piteously, questioningly. I then freed her leash from the ring, where

  her neck was held so closely to it. I then drew here to her feet and, turning

  her a few times, unwrapping some of the rope, stood her near the edge of the

  walkway. She stood unsteadily.

  “If I were you, I would not wander about just now,” I said. “Do you understand?”

  She whimpered once. “Stay,” I told her, making certain of her compliance, giving

  her a command common to slaves. This informs them they are to remain where they

  are until moved, or given permission to move. She whimpered once, once again.

  She did not know it but she stood but a foot from the drop to the courtyard. To

  be sure, now, with the interior debris below, the drop there was only about

  forty feet, but then there was another distance, longer, given the angle, down

  to the courtyard, down the hill.

  I then turned to the left and right, and made certain that I had the eye of my

  messengers, the young men on the left and right. I then lifted and lowered my

  sword. Immediately following this signal the defenders on both the left and

  right began an orderly withdrawal, rear lines first, front lines backing,

  fighting, down the stairways closest to them, the two gate stairways, one to the

  west of the gate, the other to the east of the gate. The stairways, of course,

  were much narrower than the walkway, and could be held by ewer men in the

  retreat.

  “Ho!” I called to the Cosians to the left and right, lifting my sword.

  I saw men pointing to me. I had little doubt that some of them, at least, would

  have seen me on the upper battlements, and would realize I had been commanding

  on the wall. Too, I stood next to a well-roped woman who, though hooded, and

  much covered in the upper body by ropes, would be likely to intrigue them. She

  had lovely legs and the contours of the (pg.298) ropes about her upper body

  would not leave much doubt that luscious slave curves were the helpless

  prisoners of their coarse, serpentine coils.

  I sheathed my sword.

  It must have appeared to most of them that my escape was cut off, that I was

  somehow trapped between the two stairways.

  Doubtless we would seem prizes in diverse ways to the Cosians, the commander of

  the wall and a female who might hopefully, when unhooded, be found to have a

  face to match the excitements of her figure. Too, if she were in the keeping of

  the wall’s commander, did this not, in itself, suggest that she might be worthy

  a cord and nose ring?

  Too, my sword was sheathed. Did this not suggest that I might regard myself as

  trapped, as I seemed to be, that I might regard my position as untenable, that I

  thus might choose not to offer resistance, that I might be prepared to

  surrender?

  Almost at the same time one or two scores of fellows, from both sides, began to

  race toward me. Others stood back, near the heights of the stairs, to watch.

  These things, I assumed, would drawn much pressure from the stairways. My

  defenders would probably be able to withdraw more easily, close portals and

  block passages.

  I thrust the slave to her right and she tumbled off the walkway. There was

  suddenly , she losing her footing, knowing herself unsupported, her head jerking

  wildly in the hood, her legs moving wildly, treading on nothing, beginning to

  turn to her side in the air, starting to plunge downward, a wild, tiny,

  terrified, prolonged noise from within the hood, what perhaps a shrill,

  terrified scream might have been, if it were to be compressed within the

  latitudes permitted by a Gorean gag, emerging then as a small, helpless noise,

  one not likely to disturb masters. But in an instant she had gasped and was

  jerked up short by the coils of rope, her plunge arrested, but then, again,

  almost instantly, the rope began to uncoil from her body and she, spinning, the

  rope unwinding, in a series of wild jerks, awkwardly began to descend, riding

  the uncoiling rope downward. In an Ihn or so she had struck the hill of debris

  and then, still moving, still descending, the rope still uncoiling, turning over

  and over, tumbling, rolled toward the bottom, toward the courtyard. For an

  instant it had been (pg.299) hard to get my hands on the rope, it was moving so,

  over the edge of the walkway, but, a moment or so after she had struck the hill

  of debris, I had it in my hands and began to descend it, rapidly, hand over

  hand. I would not slide down the rope, incidentally, because I did not have

  protection for my hands. Sliding down such a rope for even forty feet or so can

  burn the flesh from one’s hands. One can be crippled for weeks. Under certain

  conditions, this may be an acceptable cost, but it is not likely to be so if one

  expects to have use for the sword in the near future.

  As soon as I reached the hill of debris I had my feet under me and then, even

  more rapidly, half sliding and jumping, holding the rope, hurried down the hill.

  When I reached the bottom of the hill I turned and looked upward. Mainly I

  wanted to see if there were any crossbowmen on the walkway. There were none. One

  or two fellows looked as though they might be thinking about following me down

  the rope, but they did not do so. On the hill of debris they would have poor

  footing. At the foot of the rope they would be in the courtyard, perhaps

  isolated. They could come down only one at a time. all in all I did not blame

  them.

  “Well done,” said a young voice.

  I turned about. It was the young fellow who had the crossbow.

  “I thought this might be your plan,” he said, “when you had me put the slave at

  the ring.”

  “You are a clever fellow,â€
 I grinned.

  “And so I came to cover your descent,” he said.

  I smiled. I had not realized this additional reason for not following me down

  the rope. The fellows on the walkway had seen him. I had not. It was true, of

  course, that he had only one quarrel for his bow. Yet who, still, would wish to

  be the first down the rope?

  “You are a brave young fellow,” I said, “to have come here, for such a purpose,

  with but a single quarrel for your bow.”

  “I shall find others elsewhere,” he said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “It is nothing,” he said.

  The other young fellow, he who had been my messenger to the eastern walkway,

  emerged into the courtyard. He looked (pg.300) up at the walkway. The Cosians

  were now leaving the central walkway, and hurrying to the stairwells, those to

  the east and west.

  “The citadel is being evacuated,” said the newcomer.

  “We shall withdraw to the harbor area,” said the fellow with the crossbow. “Then

  the slaughter will take place.”

  “We have fought a good fight,” said the second fellow.

  “I think so,” said the first.

  I went to the slave. She lay on the lower slope of the hill of debris, her head

  down, her legs higher, up the hill, her right leg flexed. The end of the rope

  was a few feet above her, on the hill, where she had come free of it, and then

  rolled further downward. Her hands were thonged behind her. There were rope

  marks on her body, the signs of her spinning, jerking plunge to the hill, and

  then her tumbling downward, rather to her present location. She was trembling,

  uncontrollably. I supposed it had been frightening for her, she helpless in the

  hood.

  I took her by one arm and drew her to the level, at the foot of the hill, and

  knelt her there.

  I then bent her back, one hand on a thigh, the other on the back of her collar,

  in a slave bow, for the inspection of the young fellows.

  “She is pretty,” said the first.

  “Yes,” said the other.

  I released her. “You are in the presence of men,” I told her.

  Swiftly she bent forward and put her head down to the ground.

  “Take this slave,” I said to the fellow without the bow, “and put her with the

  women and children. If you meet Cosians throw her to them. If they stop to take

  her in tow you may escape. Similarly, in the vicinity of the women and children,

  she might serve similar purposes, being used for a diversion or something.”

  “We would rather stay with you, Captain,” said the fellow with the bow.

  “The women and children will need you,” I said.

  “What of you?” he asked.

  “I would see what is going on by the gate,” I said.

  The young man with the bow lifted it in salute.

  (pg. 301) “Stand, slave,” said the other fellow to the girl. She stood and her

  leash was taken in his grasp. She could not see, of course, confined in the

  hood, but he had looped the end of the leash. It was long enough, thusly, to

  serve as a disciplinary lash. In a moment the two young men, and the slave, had

  disappeared through an interior portal at the far side of the courtyard. I

  myself took one of the smaller portals at the far side, to follow an interior

  corridor to the vicinity of the main gate. The great interior gate, leading into

  the courtyard, like the covered way, some forty feet in length, had been backed

  with debris. This was, indeed, the debris to which we had descended by means of

  the rope. Provisions had been made, too, I supposed, for closing the corridors.

  In the corridor I met retreating defenders.

  “We are abandoning the gate, Marsias,” said one of them. “Come with us!”

  I nodded. It was only later that I realized that he had called me “Marsias.” One

  of the fellows on the wall, I remembered, had asserted that I was not Marsias.

  Yet they had followed me. Marsias, then, surely, was the name of the fellow whom

  I was impersonating.

  I then emerged into the closed area between the outer and inner gate. There was

  a huge hill of sand, rock and such, packed against the lower portions of the

  outer gate. The ram could not be well turned within the covered way.

  In this covered way, men passing him, from various parts of the citadel, taking

  their way through the sheltered corridors, presumably to the harbor area, on a

  piece of stone, broken from the inside of the way, his head in his hands, sat

  Aemilianus, bleeding.

  There was a great splintering of wood from above us and, over the hill of sand

  and such, packed behind the door, suddenly, bursting wood apart, there

  protruded, black, over five feet thick, and of solid iron, like some

  mythological monster, a great form, with curled-back horns, cast in the likeness

  of an adult verr ram.

  I had never seen such a thing closely. I drew my sword and scrambled up the

  debris behind the gate to examine it, but, as I approached it, it, in its

  rhythm, swung back. I caught sight of figures on the hill outside, just

  movements, parts of bodies. (pg. 302) I, now on the summit of that small,

  artificial hill, suddenly drew back, shielding my yes, as the huge form smote

  again through the gate, splintering wood about. I put out my left hand and

  touched it. This time, as it swung back, I could see, along its shaft, the

  interior of the inclined shed that housed it, and how it was fifty feet long and

  slung in leather cradles, and the many ropes that controlled it, and the men

  drawing on the ropes, surely more than a hundred of them under that long shed,

  men stripped to the waist, sweating, and as it drew back this time a figure

  suddenly leapt forward, to enter and I parried and slipped my sword into him

  perhaps as startled as he was and he was pulled back, bleeding, and I heard

  shouts outside, and then, again, I drew back, covering my eyes, and the great

  head splintered inward again.

  I stood near the opening but this time, following its retreat, none rushed

  through. Again I saw the shaft of the ram, the shed, the men, the ropes. A

  quarrel sped past. I heard a tumbling of stone behind me and the western

  corridor was closed, props struck from beneath a scaffolding of masonry.

  Aemilianus, with two retainers, remained where he was, below and to the left, he

  bleeding, sitting on the piece of stone. “Hurry!” I heard someone call, I

  suppose to Aemilianus. “We are going to close the east corridor!” I heard a

  trumpet from somewhere toward the harbor. “It is the recall!” cried one of the

  fellows with Aemilianus. “It sounds by your own command. Come, Commander!” The

  citadel then was being abandoned. But Aemilianus did not move. I could smell

  smoke from somewhere. Another fellow from outside suddenly appeared in the

  opening, high in the ruptured gate. We crossed swords in the opening three

  times. Then he stiffened in the opening, his guard down. I flung myself back and

  the ram smote through again. Another fellow then, flanked by two others,

  appeared in the openi
ng. Steel struck steel, sparks leaping forth. He tried to

  climb over the jagged portal. “Look out!” cried someone from outside. I could

  see as my opponent could not the coming forward of the ram. He must have

  realized the danger but had not anticipated being held at the threshold. He

  turned away from me, and his two fellows leaped from him, but too late, and the

  ram, as I drew back, caught him and carried him, on its snout, tearing him

  against (pg.303) the side of the opening, for five feet, until he tumbled from

  it, to roll to the bottom of the hill. Two bodies now lay there, or a body and a

  part of a body. The head of the ram now was spattered with blood, as was, too,

  the side of the portal. I saw other men marshaling outside, to enter.

  “Hold the ram!” I heard. A spear thrust at me through the opening. But the ram

  came forward again. I seized the spear behind the point. Then it was splintered

  like a twig as the huge head burst again inward. I threw the bit of spear away.

  The head of the ram was so constructed, and the horns on it so curved back, that

  it was unlikely, given the forces involved, that it could become lodged in the

  door. I could not, thus, in any simple fashion, even with the beams and planks

  about, in the rubble, thrust anything behind it, crosswise, say, behind the

  horns, to prevent its withdrawal. The sand was useless. The rock, however,

  suggested a temporary expedient. “Hold the ram!” I heard, from outside. But it

  must come again, at least once! Men hesitated to rush forward. I then saw the

  great iron head seemingly become smoothly larger and larger as it swept forward.

  The bloody metallic configuration burst through again and this time, as soon as

  it had entered, before it could swing back, I rolled a rock from the debris

  between it and the lower edge of the rupture. There was a grinding of iron and

  rock as it swung back and then reared up, against the top of the rupture, and

  was still. The men on the ropes had not the leverage to swing it back, though

  they could try to pull it back. They would, of course, attempt to swing it in

  further, gain leverage, and then try to draw it back again. In this, however,

  they would lack the momentum generated by the full movement of the ram,

  utilizing the full arcs of the leather cradles.