Guardsman Of Gor

Chapter 12 — WE BID WELCOME TO THE VOSKJARD'S FLEET; THE COURIER OF RAGNAR VOSKJARD; THE FLEET OF POLICRATES

"There must be fifty ships in the channel," said Callimachus, snapping shut the glass of the Builders.

"Bring Kliomenes to the wall," I told a man. "And see that he is well attired, fit to welcome his friends from the west. Some there, doubtless from the crew of Reginald, or Reginald himself, may recognize him."

"Yes, Jason," said the man, hurrying downward from the wall. Kliomenes had spent a good part of yesterday, and the night, with certain other pirates, chained, in rags, at the windlass. His appearance on the wall, Callimachus and I had speculated, might allay suspicions in the advancing fleet.

"How many ships will the sea yard hold?" inquired a man.

"Surely fifty or better," said Callimachus, "but I doubt that so many will enter the holding."

The _Tuka_, the _Tina_ and the _Tais_ had been removed from the sea yard.

"Is the Tassa powder ready, and the goblets of welcome?" asked Callimachus of a man.

"Yes, Captain," he said, grimly, "but there is far too little for so many."

"The pits in the fortress have been prepared?" inquired Callimachus of one of his officers.

"Yes, Captain," said the man. More than one hundred captured pirates had been drafted to this work, after which, in chains, they had been thrust, packed, with others, into cells below the holding.

"The fleet approaches," said a man. "Their identificatory signals emerge now upon their lines."

"Run up the flags of welcome," said Callimachus.

"Yes, Captain," said a man, signaling to others.

"Have the fire jars been prepared?" asked Callimachus.

"Both those upon the walls, and those along the channel, my Captain," said a man.

I saw the flags of welcome, narrow, triangular and yellow, run up on their lines.

A smoke bomb, trailing smoke, was lofted upward from a catapult on one of the lead ships. It arched gracefully upward and then fell into the marshes lining the channel.

"Return the signal," said Callimachus.

In moments an answering smoke bomb, from a catapult on the walls, describing its graceful parabola, ascended and then seemed to pause, and then looped downward, to splash into the marshes.

We watched the oars of the approaching ships. There was no hesitation or vacillation in their unison.

"They approach with confidence," said a man.

"Good," said Callimachus.

There was a sound of chain near us and Kliomenes, his ankles shackled, was thrust to the parapet. He was clad in a scarlet robe. A yellow, tasseled beret was upon his head. "Smile, Kliomenes," I encouraged him. He winced. The point of my dagger was in his back.

In moments had the first of the galleys reached the vicinity of the sea gate. Kliomenes, at our suggestion, climbed to a place behind the wall where he might be the more easily seen. Crossbows, the fingers of men on their triggers, were trained on his back. He smiled. He lifted his hand, and waved. I did not think it would be necessary to kill him, at least immediately. From the stem castles and decks of the galleys below the shackling on his ankles could not be seen.

Cautiously, from behind the parapet, I surveyed the stem castle of the lead galley. Three individuals stood upon it. Only one of them was I certain that I knew, and he, interestingly, was masked. That one, however, in spite of the mask, was, in his way, not unknown to me. I had met him on the wharves of Victoria, late at night. He had wanted the topaz. He had tried to kill me. It was he who was the true courier of Ragnar Voskjard.

The other two men wore the garb of captains. Neither, however, seemed to me to possess the suggestion of power, or the presence, that I would have expected of Ragnar Voskjard. The Voskjard, I suspected, was not with the fleet. I had, indeed, earlier speculated from pirate strategies, that the fleet had been under the command not of the Voskjard, but of a lesser man. The Voskjard, I suspected, during the battle, would have contented himself with reigning in his holding. He would not have seen fit, I conjectured, to concern himself with the travail of personally conducting the immediate and pedestrian affairs of an unimportant battle which, in his opinion, would have had a foregone conclusion. Such a task might be left to subordinates. He himself could join the fleet later.

"Who is on the deck of the stem castle?" I asked Kliomenes.

"Reginald," said Kliomenes, "who was the captain of the _Tamira_."

"Who else?" I pressed. I had never seen Reginald, though I had, to be sure, been on his ship. He seemed a tall, impressive man.

"The courier of Ragnar Voskjard," said Kliomenes, "he in the mask."

"Who is the other man?" I asked.

"I do not know," said Kliomenes.

"Is it Ragnar Voskjard?" I asked.

"I do not think so," said Kliomenes.

Reginald hailed Kliomenes. Signals could not properly be exchanged. It seems the sealed documents pertaining to these signs and countersigns had been lost with the _Tamira_, that they were now in the mud at the bottom of the Vosk. The _Tamira_, we were informed, had been sunk while valiantly defending herself against an attacking fleet of a dozen ships. Naturally Kliomenes, quarrels trained on his back, saw fit to accept these explanations. Besides, strictly, surely, such signs were not necessary in the present circumstances. Reginald himself was recognized. He had conducted business in the holding before, with Policrates and Kliomenes.

We gave orders and the great gate began to rise. This time, in the room of the windlass, however, it was pirates who labored to lift that mighty weight. I regretted only that Kliomenes was not sweating with them, in rags, under a whip, chained to a windlass bar. The identity of the third man on the deck of the stem castle of the lead galley, we learned, in the exchange of identifications, was Alcibron, who had been the commander of the _Tuka_.

I was much pleased that we had removed the _Tuka_, as well as the _Tina_ and _Tais_ from the sea yard. Alcibron, and, doubtless, many others, might have immediately recognized her. Alerted thusly to their danger they would have attempted to withdraw. Our trap, presumably, would then have been fruitlessly sprung. Something else which had been Alcibron's, too, was not far away, a wench I had taken from him and made my own slave. She, Lola, with another of my slaves, Shirley, I was keeping, for my convenience, in the central room of the slave quarters, with the captured beauties of the pirates. These latter girls, such as the auburn-haired beauty in whom Miles of Vonda was interested, and the small brunet in whom I had some interest, were in ignorance as to what their disposition would be. This was appropriate. They were slaves.

I saw the lead galley drawing alongside the walk near the fortress wall, across the sea yard. Mooring lines were made fast. Pirates disembarked.

"You will never be successful," snarled Kliomenes.

"Stand back on the ramparts," I said, "that the stern impediments locked upon your ankles not be visible."

He stepped back a foot.

"Smile, and wave," I encouraged him, "unless you wish to die."

He smiled and waved.

I saw Reginald and Alcibron wave to him, from the walk across the sea yard. He who had been the courier of Ragnar Voskjard looked about himself, suspiciously, and then, with the others, entered the holding. Inside, in a previously prepared room, on a great table, were aligned two hundred goblets of wine. Each contained Tassa powder.

When the pirates, unsuspecting, were within, and giving themselves to the wine, the door would be locked. Other vessels, too, were now being moored at the walk, and others, following them, were being tied up alongside the first. In a short time the sea yard, if all went well, would be almost filled with vessels. In such close harborage it would be possible to walk across the sea yard, moving from deck to deck.

More than two hundred pirates had now been welcomed and encouraged within the holding. Later crews, now, in smaller groups, in single file, would be conducted deeply within the holding. There, by larger numbers, the smaller groups would be disarmed, beaten and hurled into waiting, smooth-sided capture pits, prepared earlier by the captured pirates of Kliomenes. Narrow corridors, too, and blind passages, suddenly shut off by barred barricades, through which arrows might be fired by our men, served a similar purpose. Caught within, as helpless as penned vulos, subject vulnerably to the pleasure of our archers, pirates would surrender, stripping themselves and submitting themselves, one by one, to our chains.

"There must be twenty ships in the yard," I said.

"It goes well," said Callimachus.

Suddenly, reeling, his sword bloody, I saw he who had been the courier of Ragnar Voskjard, his clothing torn, emerge wildly from the interior of the holding.

"Go back! Go back!" he screamed. "It is a trap!"

Pirates looked at him, puzzled.

"Go back!" he screamed. "Go back!" There was then a confusion of oars. One galley tried to come about. Another, entering, grated against it. Men began to run about on the decks of the ships. There was consternation. The fellow who wore the mask, then, shouting, waving his sword, distraught, began to leap from ship to ship, trying to make his way toward the gate. Shouts of alarm now arose from the sea yard, though, I think, most were more perplexed than alarmed. Another vessel entered the sea yard.

"I do not wish to lose that man," said Callimachus, grimly. He lifted and lowered his hand. This signal was rapidly relayed to the west gate tower and, as the fellow below leapt into the water, to swim for the gate, it, with a thunderous rattle of weight and chaining, shaking and sliding, crashed downward, smiting and dividing a galley just aft of amidships, and then anchored itself in place. The courier of Ragnar Voskjard would not escape.

"Fire bombs!" called Callimachus. "Signal our fellows in the marshes! Let the attack flags be raised!" There was a cheer upon the walls. Men rose up on the walls, lighting fuses of oil-soaked rags, thrust into oil-filled, clay vessels; a smoke bomb, trailing red smoke, was lofted from a wall catapult high over the marshes. Red attack flags, torn by the wind, snapped on their lines. Vessels of clay, spreading broad sheets of flaming oil, shattered on the decks of the vessels in the yard. Soldiers of Ar's Station, emerging from the marshes on the left and right, screaming, hurled, too, such flaming missiles against the ships in the channel. Our men emerged through the iron door of the holding to command the walks lining the sea yard. They then began to board the moored vessels. A melee took place, even upon the flaming decks. Our men, too, from the wall, streamed down the steps to assist their fellows.

"Watch this man," I told a fellow, indicating Kliomenes.

"Onto your belly, Urt," said the man, "and cross your hands behind you."

Swiftly Kliomenes obeyed.

I hurried downward.

Already pirates, their weapons discarded, were kneeling before our men.

I went to the walk, near the great gate. "You there," I said, gesturing with my sword, "climb to the walk, and kneel."

The courier of Ragnar Voskjard, then, bedraggled, his weapon gone, still masked, knelt before me.

Callimachus, come down from the wall, joined me on the walls. "It goes well in the marshes," he said. "Ships are aflame. Pirates attempt to flee." He looked at the man kneeling, at the point of my sword. "So you are the courier of Ragnar Voskjard," he said, grimly. "Now you are where you belong, on your knees at the feet of honest men." The voice of Callimachus was heavy with rage. I feared he was going to run this fellow through. "It was to him, or to an agent of his," said Callimachus, "that we were betrayed by Peggy, the traitorous Earth slut, the paga slave of Tasdron."

I was silent.

"What do you think should be her punishment?" asked Callimachus of me.

"If she is guilty," I said, "whatever you wish, as she is a slave." This was in full accord with Gorean law. Indeed, anything, for whatever reason, or without a reason, may be done to a slave.

"If she is guilty?" inquired Callimachus.

"The Earth beauty," I said, "by our intent, in her servings of us, was seldom so placed as to be able to overhear our deliberations." Usually we had kept her at the far side of the room, where she might not hear, but might be immediately summoned, had we desired aught. "Though, doubtless, that we conspired was not unknown to her, I suspect she knew little or nothing of the specifics of our plans."

"Who, then, could it have been?" asked Callimachus.

"Too," I said, "I do not think she would betray you, for, in her heart, I believe her to be your slave."

"Impossible," said Callimachus.

"Buy her from Tasdron," I said, "and put her in your collar, and see."

"Who, then, could it have been?" asked Callimachus.

"Another," I said.

"But, who?" asked Callimachus.

"He," I said, drawing the mask from the head of the courier of Ragnar Voskjard.

The man looked up, angrily, his features exposed.

"Callisthenes!" cried Callimachus.

"Certainly," I said.

"How long have you known this?" asked Callimachus.

"I have suspected it for some time," I said. "I was attacked by him on the wharves. In defending myself I injured him. That night, in our meetings, he appeared with an injured shoulder, claiming to have fallen. In spite of this, and his resemblance to the courier of Ragnar Voskjard, I dismissed the possibility of his guilt. He was well known to you, and you vouched for him. He was, too, one of us, and a high officer of Port Cos. Then, again, when we were betrayed, because of the small number of individuals who knew of our plans, and his resemblance to the courier of Ragnar Voskjard, and the injury, it seemed it must be he. But then, again, because of his high position, and the confidence which you placed in him, I rejected this possibility. I decided that the traitor must be Peggy, the Earth-girl slave. It could only have been she. But, later, when the southern fleet of Port Cos did not support us in the battle, continually denying us her succor, in spite of our desperate need, I became at last fully confident of the justice of my suspicions. All things, then, fell into place."

"Why did you not speak to me?" asked Callimachus.

"The burdens of command were much upon you," I said."Little would have been served by my burdening you with cruel and unproven conjectures."

"You were wise," said Callimachus, sadly. "Doubtless I would not even have considered them."

"Nor would I, doubtless, in your place," I said. "But now, incontrovertibly, the proof kneels before you."

"What were done with the ships of Port Cos, your fleet?" asked Callimachus of Callisthenes.

"They are safe," said he. "I withdrew them to Port Cos, on the pretext of fending a threatened attack on the town. On the ruse of undertaking a mission of reconnaissance I then joined the fleet of the Voskjard."

"Where is the Voskjard?" asked Callimachus.

"He is journeying east on the river, in his black ship, _Spined Tharlarion_, to rendezvous with Policrates here, and then to take command of their joint forces in the control of the river."

"Captain," said an officer, coming up to report to Callimachus, "in the marshes the battle is done. Fifteen pirate ships have been destroyed. Many pirates have been killed or captured. Some twelve to fifteen ships escaped. Too, other pirates have fled into the marshes."

"Victory is yours," I told Callimachus.

"Had we ampler forces," said Callimachus, "our victory might have been more complete."

"Do not rise to your feet," I said, warningly, to Cailisthenes.

He looked up, at Callimachus. He smiled. "Do not forget that we are friends, Callimachus," said he. "The affection that I bear to you remains unchanged. As children we played together in Port Cos. We have been brother officers."

"You are crying," I said to Callimachus.

"It is the wind," he said. Then he said to the officer nearby, indicating Callisthenes, "Put him in chains."

We watched Callisthenes being led away, between two soldiers, the officer following.

"Would you rather that the traitor had been the slave, Peggy?" I asked.

"No," he said.

I thought that an interesting response on the part of Callimachus. I had, however, little time to ponder it.

"The fleet of Policrates!" we heard, from the height of the wall. "The fleet of Policrates is at the mouth of the channel!"

"Bring our forces, and their prisoners, within the holding!" called Callimachus.

"Policrates cannot retake the holding," I said. "We would hold it against ten thousand men!"

I followed Callimachus tip the stairs to the height of the wall. There was no possibility of our tricking Policrates, of course, as we had Alcibron and Reginald, and the others. Escaped pirates would only too quickly inform him of what had occurred. Too, smoke from burning ships, from the sea yard, and in the channel, climbed skyward.

Callimachus and I, on the wall, regarded the fleet of Policrates at the mouth of the channel. He had returned from his work on the eastern river. He had returned for his rendezvous with the Voskjard.

"We have nothing to fear from Policrates," I said.

"You do not know Policrates," he said.