by John Norman
“The bread is good,” I said. I wished it had come with some cheese.
“Yes, very good,” said Thurnock, finishing his fourth triangle. Gorean bread is commonly baked in flat, round loafs, sliced either in fourths or eighths. Also, it is usually eaten on the same day it is baked.
“Why,” I asked, “was a fellow going about, trying to recruit laborers? Why would he not set up a hiring table and wait for them to appear?”
“I would guess that he had done so, and had had little success,” said Clitus.
“I have seen fellows at other hiring tables,” I said. “There seems no shortage of fellows looking for work.”
“Perhaps they were not enthusiastic about the work he was offering,” said Clitus.
“Why?” I asked.
“I suspect,” said Clitus, “it was too onerous.”
“I suspect that you are right,” I said.
“That was good,” said Thurnock, putting his wrapper aside and wiping his large hands on his tunic. “What shall we do now?”
“I think,” I said, “we will look for work.”
“Are you lazy, Thurnock?” I asked.
“Not lazy,” said Thurnock, “sane.”
“If the loading is complete by the Sixteenth Ahn,” said the fellow, “there will be an extra tarsk-bit in it for each of you.”
“It is scarcely possible to comprehend such generosity,” said Thurnock.
“Do not complain,” said Clitus, “lift.”
Thurnock was on one side of the block and Clitus and I on the other.
“There is no way we can get this done by the Sixteenth Ahn,” said Thurnock.
“That is why the bonus is offered,” said Clitus, “lift.”
Backs aching, tunics soaked with sweat, and hands bleeding, we raised the block and set it on the low, sturdy, ten-wheeled cart. Thurnock then slipped the harness about his body and set himself to draw the cart up the iron-reinforced loading planks and onto the nearly square deck of the barge. Clitus and I thrust from the back. Once on the wide, flat barge we moved the cart to the stacked layers of blocks which arrangement was now ten blocks in depth and, in most places, three blocks high. It was not practical without steps, a ramp, a crane structure, pulleys, and counterweights, or such, to add a fourth layer. It was easy to see from the first moment why our solicitous, cheerful fee-giver had left his hiring table, which was abandoned on the pier near the barge, in favor of sallying forth on his venture of personal recruitment. Less grievous employments at better rates abounded.
“Be careful lads,” advised the fee-giver.
We managed to get the block off the cart and place it on the growing third tier.
“Well done,” said the fee giver. “Only a few more rows to go.” He then turned about, left the barge, and went to the bench at his canopied hiring table. He did share the water he kept there with us. Indeed, he even allowed us, from time to time, to rest with him in the shade. An advantage to being a free laborer is that one can simply walk off the job. This is a possibility seldom overlooked by an attentive employer.
Thurnock, standing beside the cart on the deck of the barge, wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his tunic. “We are mad to work for these wages,” he said, “two tarsk-bits an Ahn! I have seen fellows whom I suspect turned down this work. They walk by, sneer, and laugh. They must think we are naive bumpkins.”
“Or Peasants,” said Clitus.
“Beware,” said Thurnock.
“Dear Thurnock,” I said, “we are not working for tarsk-bits. We are working for something far more valuable.”
“What?” asked Thurnock.
“Information,” I said.
“Is loading stone informative?” asked Thurnock.
“I think it may be,” I said.
“Two tarsk-bits an Ahn is not enough,” said Thurnock.
“But apiece,” said Clitus.
“Still not enough,” said Thurnock, “by far.”
“I am sure he is an agent,” I said. “He is presumably pocketing the difference between what he is authorized to pay and what he actually pays.”
“The sleen,” said Thurnock.
“But a pleasant, affable sleen,” I said. “Let us engage him in conversation. If he is truly an agent, uninformed as to the designs of his principal, his speech is likely to be frank and unguarded.”
“Welcome, fellows,” said our fee-giver, rising and smiling, shortly thereafter. “Join me in the shade. Rest, and drink all the water you want, before returning promptly to work.”
The bota was passed about.
“The day is hot, the work heavy,” I said.
“It is the time of year,” he said. “I wish I could pay more.”
“I, too,” said Thurnock.
“From whence is this stone?” I asked.
“From the quarries near Pylos,” he said.
“Not from Thera,” I said.
“No,” he said.
Pylos was on Daphna.
“Why not stone from Thera?” I asked.
“I do not know,” he said. “Perhaps it is too expensive.”
“Some town,” I said, “is investing in a wall?”
“Raiders are about,” he said. “The dreadful Bosk of Port Kar.”
“I have heard of him,” I said.
“One who makes the seas unsafe,” said the fellow. “And a ravager of villages.”
“What town is thinking of building a wall?” I asked.
“I do not know,” he said.
“There is a great deal of stone on the barge,” I said.
“A few more blocks and it will founder,” said Thurnock.
“But not enough to build a wall,” I said.
“The barge comes and goes,” he said. “This is not its first cargo. Each trip it gets more and more difficult to recruit good fellows to unload the stone from Pylos and reload it here in Sybaris.”
“The word gets around,” said Thurnock.
“How often,” I asked, “does the barge here in Sybaris load?”
“Every three days,” he said. He retrieved the bota and thrust the stopper into the nozzle. “I have enjoyed talking with you fellows, but we are all rested now, and I think it is time for us to get back to work. We must keep those tarsk-bits coming.”
Later, on the deck of the barge, now low in the water, Thurnock, Clitus, and I paused, the ten-wheeled cart at our feet.
“That was the bar for the Seventeenth Ahn,” said Thurnock.
“It seems,” said Clitus, “as we did not finish by the Sixteenth Ahn, that we will not garner that extra tarsk-bit each.”
Torches, here and there, provided light on some of the piers.
“With some luck,” I said, “we may finish by the Nineteenth Ahn.”
“Has this not been an arduous, wasted day?” asked Thurnock.
“Not at all,” I said. “We have learned a great deal. Why is this stone brought in from Pylos on Daphna when there is quarry stone conveniently available on Thera? Surely not because the stone is cheaper on Daphna. Even if it were somewhat less expensive on Daphna, one would have to think about the loss of time getting it to Sybaris and the shipping costs. Therefore, the point of bringing it in from Daphna, to a common pier in Sybaris, is to make the entire operation less obvious. Who notes, or would be interested in, the transport of rude cargo in and out of Sybaris? Legitimacy has no need of secrecy. It is miscreants who strive to be unnoted.”
“Corsairs,” said Clitus.
“The barge is slow,” I said. “Yet it returns every third day.”
“It cannot go far then,” said Thurnock. “Not to Chios or Daphna.”
“It must transfer its cargo to another carrier,” I said, “one large, one capable of many loads, and waiting.”
“A living isla
nd,” said Clitus.
“I fear so,” I said.
“The Brigand Island,” said Thurnock.
“Almost certainly,” I said.
“It could kill the island,” said Thurnock.
“Eventually,” said Clitus.
“I do not think that concerns the corsairs,” I said.
“The agent hires us,” said Thurnock. “Who hires the agent?”
“Ultimately Archelaos,” I said, “but to distance himself from sensitive matters, one supposes such details would be handled through the tavern, The Living Island, which, as we know, is much involved in these matters.”
“Presumably the contact would be Glaukos, the proprietor?” said Clitus.
“Or one of his men,” I said, “say, Ctesippus or Laios.”
“Perhaps,” said Thurnock, “we were better paid than I thought.”
“We have also learned,” I said, “the attack on Mytilene is clearly intended, and that it will occur soon, but that it is not imminent.”
“How do you know these things?” asked Thurnock.
“We know the attack is planned from the stone,” I said. “We know that it will occur soon, in the relatively near future, from the preparations already underway, and we know that it is not imminent from the modest fees paid for loading stone. If time were crucial, workers might be getting as much as a copper tarsk per Ahn.”
“The agent may not be paying what his principal would be willing to pay, to hasten the work,” said Thurnock.
“I would not be surprised if the agent is keeping some of the hiring fees, as well as his own fee,” I said, “but I suspect that the discrepancy is within reason.”
“Why do you think that?” asked Thurnock.
“Because the agent is still alive,” I said.
“You said,” said Thurnock, “that we know the attack is planned from the stone. How is that so?”
“Consider the stone,” I said.
“I have been doing so, much of the day,” said Thurnock, unpleasantly.
“It seems the sort of stone from which one might build a wall, does it not?” I asked.
“Certainly,” said Thurnock.
“Yet,” I said, “several of the blocks are not well cut.”
“I have noticed that,” said Thurnock.
“And Mytilene,” I said, “has a wall.”
“So what would be the point of taking these blocks to Mytilene?” asked Thurnock.
“Stones such as these,” I said, “can make walls.”
“And,” said Thurnock, “break walls.”
“They are ammunition,” I said.
“It is getting late, fellows,” called the agent from below on the pier. “Let us finish up. If you finish before the Twentieth Ahn, you will each get an additional tarsk-bit, even though you did not finish before the Sixteenth Ahn.”
“Our thanks,” I called down to him.
“How can one refuse such an offer?” muttered Thurnock.
“Let us get to work,” I said.
“We now know what we came for,” said Thurnock. “Let us now take our leave.”
“No,” I said.
“Why not?” asked Thurnock.
“That would arouse suspicion,” I said.
“True,” he said.
“Besides,” I said, “I want my pay.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A Plank in the Sea
“If one has no ship,” I said, “one will seize at a plank in the sea.”
“There is no plank in this sea,” said Thurnock.
“The Admiral,” I said, “is disgruntled. He longs for reinstatement in Cos. He deems himself wrongfully denied the High Admiralty of Cos, the post of High Admiral of the Cosian naval forces. Here he is only the commander of the Fleet of the Farther Islands, of only some twenty heavy vessels, and a miscellany of minor vessels. He objects to flattery, favoritism, bribery, and corruption, these rampant, it seems, at the court of Cos in Jad. He deems his experience, qualifications, and skills overlooked. He deems himself removed from Cos by jealous sycophants, feeble save in intrigue, by mediocre, untested opponents, enemies who have the ear of Lurius of Jad, Ubar of Cos. He deems himself, in effect, sentenced to an unwarranted exile.”
“I do not know if it is unwarranted or not,” said Thurnock, “but to despise so high a post on Thera, the Admiral of a Fleet, suggests a mighty vanity and an ambition that might fly with tarns.”
“He does not fit in well with the conventions and protocols of a luxurious court,” I said. “He would be more at home, I would think, on the bridge of a knife ship.”
“Some at court,” said Clitus, “do not know when to smile and when to frown. They, though courtiers and servitors, are unskilled at bending the knee and bowing the head. They may not laugh when it is judicious, and they may laugh when it is not wise to do so.”
“True,” said Thurnock.
“Poor, noble fools,” said Clitus.
“It is easy to see,” I said, “why the robes of a courtier might not hang well on the body of a Nicomachos of Cos. He is short-tempered, rude, outspoken, and impatient. He despises mediocrity. Its triumph over him, accordingly, is particularly galling. I would suppose he lacks diplomatic skills. I would guess he fails to pretend to admire those whom he despises, and is reluctant, as many, to coat his tongue with the oil of lies.”
“How then could he stand as high on Thera as he does?” asked Thurnock.
“He doubtless comes from one of the high families of Cos,” I said. “Such families wield influence and have great power.”
“Too,” said Clitus, “even those who hate and fear him must recognize the accouterments of what they hate and fear, his force and probity, his records and accomplishments.”
“He has allied himself with Archelaos,” said Thurnock. “How could he search so long for the corsair fleet and somehow never find it? He does not want to find it. His searches are for show. Can he really not suspect that it anchors before him in the harbor of Sybaris? Is he not a patron of the tavern of Glaukos, The Living Island? Does he not game, and suspiciously successfully, as does Archelaos, at The House of the Golden Urt? Does he not profit, as does his colleague, Archelaos, from multiple taxes, from arbitrary levies, from demanded licenses, from various schemes, and frauds, in Sybaris?”
“He has ships and we have not,” I said, “only two.”
“He is in league with Archelaos,” said Thurnock.
“Yes,” I said, “but how and to what extent?”
“It is absurd to try to enlist him in our cause,” said Thurnock.
“If one has no ship,” I said, “one will seize at a plank in the sea.”
“But,” said Thurnock, “there is no plank in this sea.”
“We do not know that,” I said.
“It is not there,” said Thurnock.
“That we must learn,” I said.
“It is not there,” reiterated Thurnock.
“Tomorrow,” I said, “we will reach it.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I Fail to Contact Nicomachos, Admiral of the Fleet of the Farther Islands
“Away, be off, both of you,” said the officer of the guard.
“I am Kenneth Statercounter,” I said, “envoy to Sybaris from Brundisium. I am known to the Admiral. I come on urgent business.”
“The Admiral is on patrol,” said the guard. “He will not return for several days.”
We were at the high, heavily barred gate to the Cosian naval base on Thera, the base of the Fleet of the Farther Islands. Thurnock was with me, and we were both in merchant robes, white and gold. Behind the officer of the guard there were another four guards. Interestingly, they, as the officer of the guard himself, were not in the habiliments of Cosian marines or in those of the city guard of Syb
aris. Rather, they were in a livery which I recognized as that of the guards of the palace of Archelaos, governor of Thera.
“I petition then,” I said, “an immediate interview with he who is highest in the administration of the base, or, if need be, a lesser officer, even one of the base harbor officers.”
“In the absence of the Admiral,” said the officer of the guard, “all messages, communications, inquiries, and such, must be directed to Archelaos, governor of Thera.”
“I see,” I said.
“If what you have to communicate is truly urgent,” said the guard, “hasten now to his palace. You will find him welcoming, and cooperative.”
“Excellent,” I said.
“He will be zealous to be of assistance,” said the officer.
“I am sure of it,” I said.
I turned away from the gate, followed by Thurnock.
“Those were men of Archelaos,” said Thurnock, “were they not?”
“Yes,” I said.
“You could tell by the livery,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
“What better evidence of the collusion between the governor and the Admiral?” asked Thurnock. “So much for your ‘plank in the sea’.”
“Things do not look well,” I said.
“Do you think Nicomachos is in Sybaris?” asked Thurnock.
“I do not think so,” I said. “The Admiral’s Port Flag is not flying.”
“Surely you do not think that he, an Admiral, would be out on patrol,” said Thurnock.
“It is not impossible,” I said. “Occasionally such things are done. Occasionally an Admiral wants to see things for himself.”
“I suspect,” said Thurnock, “he is out on the business of the corsairs.”
“That is highly likely,” I said.
“Mytilene is in danger,” said Thurnock.
“More so each day,” I said. “The canopied hiring table on the barge pier has been taken down.”
“They have enough stone then?” said Thurnock.
“More than enough, I would guess,” I said.
“Then,” said Thurnock, “we may expect seven ships, singly, over the next few days, to depart the great harbor.”
