Hunters of Gor coc-8

by John Norman

  It was they who instead were found.

  I moved my blade back from the body of the second. I saw Sheera slip away in the darkness.

  “Keep your formation!” cried Sarus.

  “We must escape!” screamed one of the men. “He will kill us all!” he ran toward the gate. I caught him at the gate and, with my fist, sword in it, struck him across the face. He spun back, staggering, turning, and fell at the feet of Sarus.

  “He is at the gate,” said one of the men. He lifted the torch.

  I stood at the gate, sword drawn.

  “More torches,” said Sarus. “More fire.”

  In a few moments, two more torches had been lit. and, within the circle, lit by torches, burned a fire.

  The men of Sarus broke their circle and faced me.

  There were haggard. They breathed heavily. Some were bloodied.

  There were now, standing, seven of them, together with Sarus. The man I had struck lay unconscious before them. Elsewhere two men moaned, somewhere in the darkness.

  I felt my tunic thick with blood at my left side. There was blood from a cut on my left arm. I could feel it running to my wrist.

  At the line of the men of Tyros the torches were lifted.

  “Greetings, Bosk of Port Kar,” said Sarus.

  “Greetings,” said I, “Sarus of the island of Tyros.”

  “We have searched for you,” he said.

  “I am here,” I informed him.

  Sarus turned to his men. “Find crossbows,” he said. I leaned back against the gate. I shook my head.

  The fire burned higher now.

  Sarus and I looked at one another.

  I had slain one man with a crossbow. I did not know what had happened to the weapon. I had not encountered the other man, the other crossbowman. No quarrels had sped. No man at the line of men of Tyros carried it.

  It had been important. But I had failed to locate it, or its bowsman. I had failed.

  Sarus smiled.

  “You know where he is now,” he said to two of his men. “Find the crossbows.” “They are here,” said a voice at my side, that of a woman. it was Sheera. At my other side stood Verna, she, too, with a crossbow. The women held the bows leveled.

  “You have lost,” said I to Sarus.

  “I found the bow,” said Sheera, “among the bodies.”

  “He who held this bow,” said Sheera, “lies now wounded in the darkness, struck by one of his own fellows. The bow fell to one side and it was I who found it.” Suddenly Sarus laughed. “I have not lost,” he said. “it is you who have lost!” His men gave a ragged cheer. Even the women of Hura cried out.

  I did not understand.

  “Look behind you!” cried Sarus. “Look behind you, Bosk of Port Kar! It is over! Over!” “If one moves,” said I to Sheera and Verna, “fire upon him.” The men of Sarus were grinning.

  I turned. Through the crack in the gate, at the beach, beside the embers of Sarus’ great beacon, I could see lanterns. Two longboats, filled with men, were being drawn on the beach. Then, in two long lines, lanterns high, men began to approach the stockade.

  “It is the men of the Rhoda and Tesephone,” said Sarus. “You have lost, Bosk of Port Kar!” I turned to the beam which I barred the gate. I sheathed my sword. Slowly, foot by foot, I thrust back the heavy beam. It fell from its loop and slowly, I swung open the gate. The men, with lanterns, stood outside.

  A large fellow, clad in the yellow of Tyros, entered. He grinned. A tooth was missing on the upper right side of his mouth.

  “Greetings, Captain,” said Thurnock.

  21 My Business is Concluded in the Stockade

  The men of Sarus, one by one, hurled their blades into the earth.

  “Step away from your steel,” ordered Thurnock, gesturing that they should stand to one side.

  They did so, in the yellow tunics of Tyros, sullen, ringed by the blades and spear points of my men.

  Sarus had not surrendered his weapon. He stood facing us, breathing heavily. I observed him.

  Tina slipped within the gate. She was barefoot and my collar, still, was at her throat, but she wore a fresh tunic of wool, brief and white, and her hair was bound back with a woolen fillet. Behind her, blade in hand, that she might come to no harm was the young Turus, he who had worn the amethyst-studded wristlet. “You have done well,” I told her.

  I would, in time, free her.

  Turus stood with her, one arm about her.

  Hura, and her women, Mira, too, crept miserably to one side, shrinking back against the palings of the stockade, naked women, ready for the chains and collars of slave girls. My men eyed them, appreciatively.

  Marlenus, Rim, Arn, and the men of Marlenus chained within the stockade, came forward. They were jubilant in the torch light. Their wrists were still locked behind their backs. They were still fastened together, chained, by the neck. Sarus turned from me to face Marlenus.

  Marlenus looked at me and grinned, “Well done Tarl Cabot,” said he, “Warrior.” “I am Bosk of Port Kar,” I said. “I am of the Merchants.” I felt weak. The side of my tunic, the yellow of Tyros, was thick and stiff with clotted blood. I could feel the dried blood on my left arm, rough and flaking, even between the fingers, where it had run over my wrist and hand.

  There were now more torches and lanterns in the stockade, carried by my men. “Give me that crossbow,” said one of my men to Sheera. She surrendered the weapon.

  Slaves are not permitted weapons.

  “Kneel,” I told her.

  She looked at me and, angrily, did so, at my thigh. She was only slave. She had been of assistance, but she was only slave. It was the duty of a girl to be of use to her master.

  I recalled that I had told her I would sell her in Lydius.

  “They made me do it!” cried Tina, to my surprise. She broke away from Turus and ran and knelt before Sarus who stood, still, near the fire, haggard, angry, his blade in he hand. “I had no choice!” she cried. He looked down at her. She leaped to her feet and put her arms about him, weeping. I did not understand her behavior.

  Sarus, angrily, violently, thrust her aside.

  “Surrender your weapon,” I told him.

  “Nom” he said. “No,”

  “You have failed,” said I, “Sarus.”

  He looked at me wildly.

  His tunic was torn.

  He stood unsteadily. In the very Ahn he had lost his victory, his certain triumph.

  All that he had come to the northern forests to accomplish he had failed to do so.

  He had failed his Ubar, Chenbar of Tyros, called the Sea Sleen.

  “No!” cried he suddenly.

  “Stop!” I cried.

  He spun wildly and ran to Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars, sword high.

  He stood before the Ubar, his sword raised to strike. But between Sarus and Marlenus of Ar, there stood another, Verna, the crossbow she carried leveled at the heart of Sarus.

  He could not strike for she stood in his way, and did his arm over, her finger, even were she struck, would jerk on the trigger of the weapon, flinging its iron-headed quarrel through his body, perhaps even to the palings behind. I removed the sword from Sarus’ uplifted hand.

  Thurnock took him and thrust him, stumbling, and weeping, to stand by his men. “Well done, Slave!” congratulated Marlenus of Ar.

  Verna did not respond to him.

  Instead she turned, and faced him. There was a gasp, and silence.

  The crossbow, now, stood leveled at the heart of Marlenus of Ar.

  The Ubar faced her. He was helpless in his chains.

  I heard the fire of the torches crackling.

  Marlenus did not flinch. “Fire,” he said.

  She did not speak to him.

  “I do not grant you freedom,” he said. “I am Marlenus of Ar.”

  Verna handed the crossbow to a man who stood nearby. He took it, quickly. She turned to face Marlenus of Ar. “I have no wish to kill you,” she said. Then s
he walked to one side.

  Marlenus stood for a moment in the light of the torches, and then he threw back his head, with his long hair, and laughed. His head had not had the stripe of degradation shaven in it, as had my head, and those of my men. He would leave the forest as he had entered it, with his glory. He had lost nothing. Are you always victorious, Marlenus of Ar, I asked myself. I had freed him, he whom I envied, he who had denied me bread, and fire and salt in Ar. He whom in some respects I hated I had risked my life to liberate.

  He would leave the forest as he had entered it, in glory. I wore in my head the stripe of degradation. In my venture into the forest I had failed.

  Both Sarus and I had failed. Only Marlenus of Ar would be victorious. But he and his men might be mine. They stood in chains. I had ships at my disposal. I might, rather than Sarus, take them as prizes to Tyros. I might thus have my vengeance.

  “Unchain me!” roared Marlenus of Ar, laughing.

  I hated him, he, always victorious.

  “Sarus,” said I,” the key to the chains of the Ubar and the others. Sarus reached to his wallet, slung to his belt. “It is gone,” he said. He seemed stunned.

  “I have it,” said Tina. There was much laughter in the stockade. We recalled how she had, for a brief moment, before being thrust away, clung to the dazed Sarus. She had, in that instant, taken the key. She brought it to me.

  “Similarly,” said Thurnock, “took she the key from the mate of the Rhoda and, when the ships were tied together, and the men of the Rhoda and Tesephone were drunk with her body and the vessels of paga she poured them, she brought it to us. We freed ourselves, and put those who had been our captors in chains.” “Well done,” said I, “Thurnock.” “We put them in the hold of the Rhoda,” grinned Thurnock. “In the morning doubtless they will be surprised to find themselves in chains. Their heads, too, sore from the paga, will most likely cause them some displeasure.” There was again much laughter. Marlenus, too, joined in the laughter. I was furious.

  “Unchain me,” said Marlenus.

  Our eyes met.

  I handed the key to Sheera, who knelt beside me. She rose to her feet, to unchain the Ubar.

  “No,” said Marlenus. His voice was quiet, and very hard.

  Frightened Sheera stepped back. I took the key from her.

  I handed the key to Thurnock.:Unchain the Ubar,” I said to him.

  Thurnock hastened to unlock the manacles and heavy throat collar which bound the great Ubar.

  Marlenus did not take his eyes from me. He was not pleased.

  I took the key from Thurnock, and, with it, unlocked the steel which confined Rim and Arn.

  I then gave the key to Arn, that he might free the men of Marlenus. The eyes of Marlenus and I met again. “Do not come to Ar,” he said. “I shall come to Ar if it pleases me,” said I.

  “Bring clothing for the Ubar,” cried one of his men, as swiftly as he was released.

  Another of the men of Marlenus went to the belongings of the men of Tyros, to seize garments.

  “The women!” suddenly cried a man. “They flee!”

  Hura and her women, and Mira, too, who had, supreptitiously, the attention of those within the stockade being distracted, been nearing the gate of the stockade, suddenly had broken into flight, like a bevy of tabuk, rushing into the darkness.

  “After them!” cried Thurnock.

  But scarcely had the peasant giant cried out than, from the darkness about the stockade, and toward the forest, we heard the surprised cries, and screams, of startled, unexpectedly caught females. We heard, too, the laughter of me. “Weapons ready!” cried Marlenus.

  I placed my blade in its sheath.

  We heard the sound of scuffling outside and more laughter.

  In a moment, men, those of Marlenus’ men and mine, who had been chained in the forest, appeared at the gate of the stockade. Several held, by the arms, or hair, a stripped, squirming panther girl.

  The girls, attempting to escape, had run into their arms.

  The men threw their catches, terrified, before the fire. There they huddled, kneeling, holding one another.

  “Bind them hand and foot,” I told my men.

  They leaped to secure the now-unresisting panther women.

  Cara slipped past me to plunge herself, in her sweetness, weeping into the arms of Rim, who crushed her to him.

  “I love you, Rim!” she cried.

  “I, too, love you,” he cried.

  Cara had carried the tools I had stolen from the Rhoda, a heavy hammer and a chisel, into the forest. She had followed the backtrail of the men of Tyros. She had, in a matter of Ahn, found the place where Sarus had left several men of Marlenus, and some of my men, chained. At that point she had, too, encountered Vinca, the two paga slaves, Ilene, and my own slave chain of panther women. Vinca and her cohorts had built fires about the men, protecting them from animals, and had been feeding them and bringing them water. With the hammer and chisel, and rocks, Vinca and the paga slaves, perhaps aided by Cara, would have managed to break or open the hand chains of one of the men of Marlenus, or one of my men. Then he, with his man’s strength, could strike away other chains, and free his fellows. It would have takes Ahns, but once a single man was freed and the tools lay ready, it was but a matter of time until all were freed. As soon as the men of Marlenus, sixty-seven of them, and the balance of my men, eight, had been freed, they had trekked to the beach followed by the women, with the slave chain. As they had come they had broken themselves clubs. They had come prepared, though naked, to make war, though it be with but the branches of trees and stones of the forest. About the wrists of many, though separated, still clung iron manacles; about the throats of many, too, still clung collars of iron, some with dangling, broken lengths of chain.

  Their leader lifted his arm to Marlenus, in the salute of Ar.

  Marlenus returned the gesture.

  Cara, in Rim’s arms, looked at me, and then looked quickly away. She had wished to carry the tools into the forest, but in her own way, free. I had instead, however, tied them about her neck, and bound her wrists securely behind her body. She would, accordingly, if she did not find Vinca and the chained men, perish in the forest. I had given her no choice but, if she would live, to deliver the tools.

  “I love Rim,” she had cried to me. “Let me be free to carry the tools for him as a free woman!” But I had bound her as a slave. It was thus, under duress, she had complied with my will. She was slave. One does not trust slaves.

  I looked at her. She was lost in her joy of Rim’s arms.

  I shrugged.

  I examined the panther women, now supine, now tightly bound, before the fire. “There are two others, who are missing,” I said to Thurnock. Hura and Mira were not among the captives.

  I looked at one of the men of Marlenus, who had come in from the darkness. He spread his hands.:These are all we caught,” he said. “If there were two others, they must have slipped past us, or eluded us, in the darkness. “I want Hura!” cried Marlenus. “Find her!” His men fled into the darkness.

  But I did not think they would be successful. Hura, and Mira, too, were panther girls.

  In time, in a half of an Ahn, his men had returned. There was little point in prolonging the pursuit. The two women had slipped away, successfully, in the darkness.

  They had made good their escape.

  I noted, too, that Verna and Sheera were missing. I had lost blood. I was angry. I seemed very weary. It was little to me that they, too, taking advantage of the confusion, had slipped away.

  “Where is the slave Verna!” cried Marlenus.

  His men looked at one another.

  “She is gone,” said one of them.

  I wanted to rest. I had lost blood.

  “Captain?” said Thurnock.

  “Take me to the Tesephone, Thurnock,” I said. “I am tired. I am tired.” “Where, Bosk of Port Kar,” challenged Marlenus, “is the slave Verna?” “I do not know,” I told him. Then I
turned away. It was over now. I wanted only to rest.

  “Bring paga and food from the ships!” ordered Marlenus.

  Thurnock looked at me.

  “Yes,” I said, “let him have what he wished.”

  “You will be paid,” said Marlenus, “in the gold of Ar.”

  Thurnock helped me to the longboat. The beacon of Sarus was now only reddish stones of wood, like the eyes of beasts, looming in the darkness, lying on the sand.

  “We will have a feast!” I heard Marlenus cry, and his men responded with a cheer.

  “Chain these men of Tyros,” I heard Marlenus order. I heard chains. “Lie in the boat, my captain,” whispered Thurnock.

  “No,” I told him.

  “Free the females,” cried Marlenus. “They will serve us in our feast.” I heard the screams of women, as they were freed of their bonds. I knew they would serve the feast in the manner of Gorean slave girls, fully. I did not envy them. I heard the gate of the stockade swing shut. It would be secured, locking them within with the men, their former captives. I heard some of them pounding helplessly at the gate with their small fists. I heard the laughter of men. There was more screaming. I did not envy them.

  “Come, Captain,” said Thurnock.

  With Thurnock and eight of my men I thrust the longboat back in the water and then, wading, swung it about.

  Thurnock climbed into the boat, and leaning toward me, helped me to follow him. My eight men took their oars.

  “Lie in the boat, Captain,” said Thurnock.

  “No,” I told him. I took the tiller.

  “Stroke,” called Thurnock.

  The oars cut the water. I leaned on the tiller. The moons broke from the cover of the clouds. Thassa, suddenly, shone with a billion whispering diamonds. Dark, ahead, were the hulls of the Rhoda, a ship of Tyros, and the Tesephone, a light galley of Port Kar.

  “Captain?” asked Thurnock.

  Behind me I heard from the stockade, the song of Ar’s glories, led in the great voice of Marlenus of Ar, Ubar of Ubars.

  There would be a feast. The stockade would be ablaze with light.

  I was wet from the salt water, thrusting the longboat into Thassa. My side and my left arm stung with the salt, and felt stiff with the cold, and then, too, suddenly, I felt a warmth, slow and spreading. It seemed welcome. I did not much care. But I knew that it was my own blood.