"Who is there?" called the fellow from the gunnels of the _Tina_. "Speak, or we shall fire!"
"Jason," said I from the dark, cold water. "Jason of Victoria. Help me aboard!"
"It is Jason," said a voice. I recognized it as that of Callimachus. "Help him aboard!"
I was towing the girl by the hair, on her back, behind me, in the water. Attached to her collar, floating to one side, on its double rope, was the board and packet.
Hands reached down toward me. Two men, clinging to the gunnels, clambered down to assist me.
"What have we here?" asked one of the men.
"A female slave," I said, "and something else, which is of value."
The girl was lifted up, by her bound arms, by two men, and hauled over the bulwarks, the board and packet striking against the side of the ship, with her.
I climbed up, after her. In a moment I stood, shivering, on the deck of the _Tina_.
Callimachus seized me by the arms. "We had feared you were lost," he said.
"We must make ready to withdraw," I said. "We cannot withstand an attack in the morning."
"We were waiting for you," said Callimachus.
I bent down beside the girl and removed the board and packet, on its rope, from her collar. "Put this in the cabin of the captain," I said to a man.
"Yes, Jason," said he.
"What is it?" asked Callimachus.
"I shall explain later," I said.
"There seems light and consternation on the deck of the _Tamira_," said a man. To be sure, we could see ships' lanterns moving about on the _Tamira_, some two to three hundred yards across the water.
I smiled. I did not think Reginald would be quick to report his loss to the fleet commander.
"What have we here?" asked a man, lifting a lantern, indicating the girl, who was kneeling on the deck at our feet.
I jerked the blindfold down from her head, until it hung about her neck.
"A pretty one," said the man.
"Yes," said another.
The girl looked wildly about, frightened, a prize, among the enemies of her former master.
"You are in the presence of men, Woman," I said. "Put your head down, to their sea boots."
Immediately, kneeling, she put her head down to the deck.
"The _Tamira_ is coming about," said a man. "I think she means to attack."
"She must be very anxious to recover whatever it was which you took," said Callimachus.
The girl lifted her head, startled.
"Not you, Pretty Slave," I told her, "that which was of value."
She looked at me, tears in her eyes, over the gag, angrily. "Tie her legs, and throw her below decks," I told a man.
"Yes, Jason," he said.
"Oarsmen to your benches," said Callimachus. "All hands to your stations."
The _Tamira_ must be mad to threaten three ships," said an officer.
"She is desperate," said another.
"Reginald may be ready to lose his ship," I said, "that his loss may be covered, that it may have seemed unavoidable, a fortune of war."
"Surely he would have no orders to leave the line," said Callimachus.
"No," I said, grinning. A cloak was thrown about my shoulders, to warm me from the chill of the water. The girl, her ankles now bound, was carried backwards, her body over the shoulder of a man, to the nearest hatch, that amidships, leading to the hold. Her eyes were wild over the gag. She would be thrown in the hold, and the hatch would be secured. I realized that she would have to be beaten as she had, earlier, raised her head without permission. Such negligences on the part of a slave seldom go unnoticed on Gor.
"It is clear," said an officer. "The _Tamira_ plans to attack." He seemed perplexed.
"It is as I had hoped," I said to Callimachus. "She will, thus, open a hole in their lines." To be sure, I had not expected Reginald to notice his loss so quickly. I had hoped to have more time to formulate my plans with Callimachus.
"I shall have the signal horns sounded," said an officer to Callimachus.
"No," I said, "no, Callimachus!"
"Do not sound them," said Callimachus to the officer. "It is not yet time to alert and confuse the fleet."
"Precisely," I said. Orders, at our proximity with the _Olivia_ and _Tais_, could be, for the moment, verbally conveyed.
"Is it your intention to exploit that aperture in the enemy line?" asked Callimachus. "It will not remain long. The movement of the _Tamira_ will be quickly noted."
"Not directly," I said. "That would be transparent Kaissa, as it is said. Yet the enemy will expect us to dart for that opening."
"Accordingly, they will shift to cover the position," said Callimachus.
"Producing numerous realignments of ships, and perhaps consternation," I said.
"The very wall may be dismantled," said Callimachus, "opened, in a dozen places."
"It will not be understood why the _Tamira_ left her position," I said. "It may be assumed by many ships that the attack has been ordered."
"The _Tamira_ is bearing down upon us," said an officer. "Shall we engage her?"
"No," cried Callimachus. "Helmsmen, hard to starboard! Oar Master, full stroke!"
"Full stroke!" called the oar master. "Port oars inboard!" cried Callimachus. "Port oars inboard!" echoed the oar master.
The _Tamira_, her port shearing blade passing to port like a quarter moon of steel, slid past our hull, between us and the _Olivia_.
"There are lights on other ships!" called an officer. Across the water, here and there, we could see lanterns moving. We heard battle horns.
"Draw alongside the _Olivia_, Callimachus," I begged. "Orders must be swiftly issued, and unhesitantly obeyed."
"Do you plan escape?" asked Callimachus.
"I plan not only escape," I said, "but victory."
We could hear the shouting, as though of a pirate victory, coming from over the water.
My feet slipping on the sand bar I thrust my shoulder against the hull of the _Tuka_, which had been the lead ship in the first major attack against us three days ago. She had been rammed and wounded, and had been abandoned, left aground on the sand bar, near the chain, half in the water, half on the bar. It was a well-known ship of the Voskjard. Near me other men, with their shoulders, and using oars as levers, pried at the hull, its keel sunk in the sand. On either side of the bar, the _Tina_ and the _Tais_, with stout ropes, four inches in width, strained, too, to free the _Tuka_.
The shouting carried over the water. There was a reddish glow to the east, from flames.
"They will soon realize they were tricked," said a man near me.
"Work, work harder," I said.
In the confusion and darkness, and in the movement of ships, we had set the _Olivia_ afire, her sails set and her rudders tied in place; she was moving eastward, which would be the likely escape route toward towns such as Port Cos, Tafa and Victoria. Like a majestic torch she would sail into the midst of the enemy. Using this as a diversion the _Tina_ and the _Tais_, with Aemilianus, and the crew and men of the _Olivia_, with captured pennons from prize ships taken earlier from the Voskjard, had permitted other ships, like sharks, to pass them, following the light of the _Olivia_, taking that light for the locale of battle. Soon, of course, if it had not already occurred, it would be discovered that the _Olivia_ was unmanned.
"Work harder!" I said.
We grunted, and pressed our weight against the hull of the stranded _Tuka_. The great ropes strained. Near me I heard the snapping of an oar, it breaking under the force of the four men using it as a lever. Other men, with spear points, scraped at the sand under the keel.
"I fear there is little time," called Callimachus from the rail of the _Tina_.
"It is hopeless," said the man near me.
The great weight of the _Tuka_, so dark, so heavy, so obdurate, so seemingly resistant and fixed in place, suddenly, unexpectedly, straining, with a heavy, sliding noise, the keel like the runner of a great sled, leaving a line in the sand, thrust by our forces, moved by the water, slipped backward, six inches.
"Work!" I whispered. "Push! Work!"
The _Tuka_ slipped back a foot. Then another foot. There was a cheer. "Be silent!" I cried.
I left my position and, hurrying, ankle deep in sand and water, lowering my head to pass under the ropes between the _Tina_ and the _Tuka_, made my way along her hull until I came to the river, and there entered the water, and swam about her stern quarters.
I joined the men on the other side, on the bar, where the great rent had been torn in her side three days ago by the ram of the _Tais_. The splintered, gaping hole was easily a yard in height and width, the result not only of the ram's penetration but of the tearing and breakage in the strakes attendant upon its withdrawal. The strike had been well above the water line, when the vessel would ride on an even keel. Yet, in the rolling and wash of battle, it had sufficed, at the time, to produce a shippage of water sufficient to produce listing.
Rendered unfit for combat her captain and crew had abandoned her, doubtless with the intention later, at their leisure, to repair and reclaim her. I peered into the rupture in the strakes. The ropes strained again and the _Tuka_ slipped back another yard. She would soon be free of the bar. I considered, as well as I could, from my position outside the hull, what time and materials might be requisite to restore the _Tuka_ to seaworthiness. Such repairs, of course, must be made upon the river, and in flight. I did not wish to leave her as she was, of course, for she was important to my plans. She was, it was said, a well-known ship of the Voskjard.
"There is a ship approaching!" I heard a man cry.
"No," I cried out, angrily. "No!"
"It is a derelict," said another man. "She is dark. Her rudders are free!"
It must, then, be a ship drifting unmanned, lost, and carried by the current from the concourse of war. Even if it should be a trick, it was but one ship. Given the men of Ar we had, though only two fighting ships, and the _Tuka_, crews enough to man at least five vessels.
The _Tuka_ slipped another yard back, toward the water. With two hands I hoisted myself through the rupture in the hull of the _Tuka_. I drew my sword. The men of the _Tais_, I knew, after her disabling, had briefly boarded her. She had, at that time, been abandoned. I did not doubt but what she was now, too, empty. Yet I did not know that. My sword was drawn. The _Tuka_ is a large ship and I could stand upright within her first hold. I felt her move beneath me, impelled again by the ropes and men, toward the river. It was dark in the hold. As the _Tuka_ slipped in the sand, being drawn backward into the river, water from the hold rushed about my feet, for a moment some six inches in depth. It then drained through the rupture. I could feel the wet wood beneath my bare feet. Beneath the first hold is the lower hold, but this is little more than a damp crawl space, containing the bilge, and sand, which, on Gorean vessels, commonly serves as ballast. I stood back from the rupture. I was uneasy.
I listened. The hold was dark. I seemed to hear nothing. It had been nothing. Surely it had been nothing.
I did not move. I was uneasy.
Suddenly in the darkness there was the rush of a body toward me. I stepped to the side. Steel slashed down. I heard it cut into the wood at my left almost at the same time that I turned and, in the darkness, slashing, cut at it. I knelt beside it. With my left hand I felt it. The neck, struck in the back, had been half severed.
I then rose to my feet. I stood there, in the darkness, and in the silence, my sword ready.
Then I felt soft lips press themselves against my feet. "Please do not kill me, Master," begged a woman.
I lowered my sword until the point of it was at the back of her neck.
"Please, do not kill me," she begged.
She was at my feet, on her belly, in the darkness.
"Cross your wrists," I told her, "palms facing one another, and touch your fingers to my ankle."
She did this, lying on her stomach. With her hands in this position, a girl can exert almost no leverage, and it may be determined, too, that her hands are empty. This is a simple Gorean procedure, not uncommon, for determining that a girl encountered in the darkness is both helpless and unarmed.
I reached downward and, with my left hand, closing it about her small wrists, pulled her wrists up, drawing her into a kneeling position, her hands, in my grip, held over her head. With my blade, I gently felt between her legs. Feeling the steel between her thighs, she shuddered. This pleased me, for it indicated that she was hot. I then, with the blade, felt along the outside of her thighs and belly. "Yes, Master," she said. "I am naked." I had determined that she wore no cords, or belts, from which a weapon might be suspended. I then touched the side of the blade lightly to her neck. There I felt it move against a steel collar. "Yes, Master," she said. "I am a slave."
"Who was he, he who attacked me?" I asked.
"Alfred," she said, "a man of Alcibron, captain of the _Tuka_."
"What was he doing here?" I asked.
"He was left here to kill those, not of the pirates, who might seek refuge in the hulk of the _Tuka_," she said. "He killed five," she said.
"And what were you doing here?" I asked.
"I was put here, that I might content and please him," she said, "that his duties might be made more enjoyable."
"Are you beautiful?" I asked.
"Some men have found me not displeasing to their senses," she said.
"Who is your master?" I asked.
"Alcibron, Master of the _Tuka_, was my Master," she said, "but now you are my Master, and you own me, fully."
"You sound familiar," I said. "Do I know you?"
"I was once a girl of Port Cos," she said, "one born free, but one who knew herself in her heart to be a slave. I fled Port Cos to avoid an unwanted companionship. He who desired me, too much respected me, and though I muchly loved him, I knew that he could not satisfy my slave needs. He wanted me as his companion and I wanted only to be his slave. He wanted me in veils and silk, and wished to serve me. I wanted only to be naked, and collared, and at his feet, kissing his whip.
"I confessed my needs to him and he was scandalized, and that he was scandalized shamed and mortified me. Each outraged by the other we parted.
"I then decided that I would hate men, and do without them. I would be bold and insolent with them, and make them suffer, punishing them for their rejection of my womanhood. If they could not, or would not, understand me, then I would take my vengeance on them, making them miserable! Even in my hatred, of course, I could never forget that in a corner of my heart, kneeling, there languished a love slave. Our parents, naturally, knowing nothing of what had occurred between us, pressed us to intertwine our arms and drink the wine of the companionship.
"He, furious but resigned, cognizant of his expressed intentions and earlier proposals, became convinced that his duty lay in this direction. I had little doubt that if I were but once taken into companionship by him I should be sequestered, and left untouched, that that would be my punishment for having shamed him; be would keep me as his official 'companion' but he would not so much as put his hands on me; I would be forced to endure honor and freedom; respect and dignity would be forced upon me, like chains. I would lie alone, twisting in the darkness, while he reveled elsewhere, contenting himself, in the lascivious embraces of obedient slaves, painted, bangled girls, such as might be purchased in any slut market. How I would envy such girls their collars and the lash of his whip!
"It was thus that I fled Port Cos. I thought I did so, at the time, to make my fortune, but, as I understand it now, I did so to become enslaved. It was soon done to me. In the beginning, true to my resolves, I tried to be rebellious, but the impracticality of that was soon brought home to me. I soon learned that I was a slave. Gorean men allow women little latitude in this regard. She quickly learns she is a slave or she is slain. Yet I did not mind being a slave, truly, for it was what I was. I had known it for years, since my body had developed the contours and needs of a slave. It pleased me deeply that I had been given no choice in the matter, that my slavery, like the brand and collar, had been forced upon me. I had been given no choice but to be what I was. This pleased me. I have known many whips. I have had many masters, good and bad. My longest slavery was in Vonda, in a slaver's house, the House of Andronicus."
"I know who you are," I said.
"Master?" she asked. "Oh!" she said. "Master's grip is tight on my hands!" I was holding her hands over her head, together, she kneeling before me in the darkness. It pleased me to let her feel herself again in my grasp, helpless.
"By what name have you commonly been known, Slave?" I inquired.
"Oh!" she said. "Please, do not kill me, Master!" I had put the point of the blade I carried to her belly. I could feel her, through the steel, wince. She knew that even a slight pressure on that blade, Gorean steel, at that location and angle, could slit her open to the heat of her.
"By what name have you commonly been known, Slave?" I asked. It is sometimes useful to let a slave know that she may be easily killed.
"Lola, Master!" she said, frightened. "Lola!"
I released her hands. I sheathed my sword. "You may lick and kiss at my feet, Lola," I said.
She did so.
"Do you know who I am?" I asked.
"My Master," she said, "my Master."
"Stand, Girl," I said.
She did so.
"I am Jason," I told her, "Jason, of Victoria."
"Master!" she cried out, suddenly, tearfully. "Master!" She seized me in her arms, sobbing, pressing herself against me. I put my arms about her, permitting myself this tenderness towards her, though she was but a branded slave. "She sold me! She sold me!" she sobbed. "She took me to the wharves, while you were at work. She sold me!"
"She had no right to do so," I said.
The girl was sobbing, against me. I could feel her tears against my chest. "I was sold to a merchant from Tetrapoli," she said. "In Tetrapoli I was again sold, to an agent, who proved to be in the fee of Alcibron, one of the high captains of Ragnar Voskjard."
"He brought you along for his pleasure on the _Tuka_," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I took her by the arms, and held her from me. "I have little time for you now," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said. "Oh, Master!" she said, as I pressed her back, and then put her on her back, on the wet boards of the hold. Swiftly I had her, for I had little time for her, then. She clutched at me, hot and shuddering. The _Tuka_ was then free of the bar. I could hear feet on the deck over our heads. Men were taking their places at the benches. The ropes by which the _Tina_ and the _Tais_ had drawn the _Tuka_ from the bar were being cast off. I could hear Aemilianus giving orders. I rose from the girl's side. I snapped my fingers. "On your feet," I told her. "We must board the _Tina_."
"Yes, Master," she said. She groaned, gaining her feet.
I went to the rupture in the side of the _Tuka_. Through the jagged rupture I could see the _Tais_, and the river chain, behind her.
I tumbled the body of the fellow who had struck at me from the hold, into the water.
The girl joined me, at my side.
"Can you swim?" I asked her.
"No," she said.
I took her by the arm and, lowering my head and crouching, pulling the girl with me, leapt downward into the water.
"Turn about," I said, "lie on your back, relax, completely."
"Yes, Master," she said, frightened.
I then, my hand in the girl's hair, drawing her behind me, swam slowly about the bow of the _Tuka_ and to the side of the _Tina_. In moments, helped by crewmen, we had attained the deck of the _Tina_.
"Welcome, Jason," said Callimachus. He grinned. "While we have been hard at work, moving the _Tuka_, it seems you have been trying chain luck."
"I did my share of the work," I laughed. "It merely chanced that she fell across my path."
We turned to regard the wet, shivering girl. Like most girls, either of Earth or Gor, she was short, curvaceous and luscious, sweetly slung.
"She is nice," said Callimachus.
"She is a pretty bauble," I granted him. The girl put down her head, smiling.
"Bring a cloak," I said. I then put the cloak about her. She drew it closely about her, holding it with her small hands.
"Thank you, my Master," she whispered.
"Lock her in the hold," I told a sailor.
"Yes, Jason," he said, and conducted the lovely slave to her confinement.
"We must soon make away," said Callimachus.
"I shall find a place at one of the benches," I said.
"Sir," said an officer to Callimachus, "there is movement on the ship to starboard."
"Then she is not abandoned," said Callimachus. "I thought not."
I remembered, then, the ship I had heard of, shortly before entering the hold of the _Tuka_, that which had been identified as a derelict, one presumably drifting downriver, lost from the confusion of the night, illuminated by our diversion of the burning _Olivia_, a pasang or so to the east. She had perhaps been struck by one of the pirate ships, or perhaps, earlier, a casualty from a previous day, had come loose from one of the bars in the river.
Callimachus and I, with the officer, went to the starboard rail of the _Tina_.
We saw oars sliding outboard. The ship was not dead.
"Surely it does not mean to attack three ships," said the officer.
"Why has it not attacked earlier?" asked a man.
"Doubtless it has been waiting," I said, "hoping that other ships would join it."
"Why should it be preparing to attack now?" asked a man. "It is not supported by other ships."
"It knows the _Tuka_ is free," said Callimachus. "If it is going to attack, it must now do so."
"But we are three ships," said a man.
"Two, if we do not count the _Tuka_," said a fellow.
"The odds, even so, are decisively in our favor," said a man. One ship, in oared battle, cannot well defend itself against two. One flank, at least, must be exposed.
"The captain is desperate," I said.
"Do you know the ship?" asked Callimachus.
"It was the first ship which left the line, the first ship to strike at us," I said. "In the movement and clashing of ships, in the confusion, in spite of the diversion, in spite of the Voskjard pennons which we have flown, she has not lost us. She has stayed with us. She has followed us, tenaciously."
"Ah," said Callimachus.
"Yes," I said, "it is the _Tamira_."
"She is moving!" said the officer.
"So, too, is the _Tais_," cried a man. I spun about. The _Tais_, dark, low in the water, beautiful, scarred and lean, fierce, one of the most dangerous fighting ships in the navy of Port Cos, under the command of Calliodorus, captain in Port Cos, swept about the stern of the _Tuka_ and the bow of the _Tina_. She, too, had spotted the _Tamira_.
"She must not be sunk!" I cried. "Signal Calliodorus!"
"No," said Callimachus, grimly. "The horns would give away our position."
I watched the advance of the _Tamira_. She was an armed merchantman.
"Her captain must be mad," said a man.
"He has doomed his own ship," said another.
I did not even know if Reginald, on the _Tamira_, was aware of the _Tais_.
"She must not be sunk," I cried. "If anything, she must be boarded."
There was a rending of wood, a jarring and ripping of timber. I heard the screaming of men.
"It is too late," said Callimachus.
"Blood for Port Cos," said a man.
"To the _Tamira_," I begged Callimachus. "Please, Callimachus!"
"There is no time, Jason," said Callimachus.
"Other ships will be searching for us," said an officer.
"We must make away," said Callimachus.
I discarded my belt and sword and dove from the rail of the _Tina_. I heard Callimachus cry out behind me, "Come back, Jason!"
In moments I was at the side of the _Tamira_. The dark hull rolled toward me, and pressed me beneath the water. I felt her keel with my two hands, and pushed away, and again came to the surface of the water. My arm struck against an oar, unmanned, projecting downward from her side. I was aware of other men in the water about me. Some yards away I saw the dark shadow in the darkness which was the _Tais_. I pushed away a man in the water near me. My hand struck on a piece of wreckage.
"She is coming again!" I heard a man cry out in misery.
I turned in the water. The dark shape that was the _Tais_ seemed almost upon me. I twisted to the side. Under the water I felt myself being lifted and flung back and to the side by the bow wave of the _Tais_ and, at the same time, I heard the second impact. For the moment I could not think. I was aware only of the sound, my motion, and the pain. My head then again broke the surface, and I could once more breathe. I was at the side of the _Tais_. Men in the water were crying out about me. I put out my hand. I could feel the port shearing blade of the _Tais_. Then the blade moved back and the _Tais_, oars cutting at the dark river, with a ripping of strakes, extricated her ram from the hull of the stricken _Tamira_. Through wood and men I swam to the side of the _Tamira_. A dozen feet of planking, lengthwise, and some three planks vertically, had been lost.
I put my hand onto the breakage. The hole in the hull was some two feet in height. Water, as the hull shifted, would rush past me, flooding into the hold. I climbed into the hold. It was dark. A crate, loose in the water, struck against my legs. The water was then to my knees. I felt the _Tamira_ shudder, and water rushed past me, aft. The floor of the hold tilted beneath my feet. Outside I saw the dark shape of the _Tais_ swinging to starboard. Then, not hurrying, she withdrew. She had done her work.
The ship suddenly tilted sternward and I slipped in the hold, and slid aft, then struggling in the water. The breakage in the hull, through which I could see stars, was several feet away, and up the steep slope of the tilted floor of the hold. More water poured in through the breakage. Holding to the side of the hold I pulled my way toward the breakage. I got my hands on its edges and pulled myself through. I dove swiftly into the water.
I turned in time to see the _Tamira_, stern first, slip under the water. I fought back against the undertow. Then, again, the water was calm.
"Help!" I heard. "Help!"
My heart leapt. I swam toward the sound. I came to the two men struggling in the water.
"I cannot support him!" cried a voice.
"I shall help you!" I said.
I reached out and clutched the iron collar locked on the man's neck. "Do not struggle!" I told him. His hands, in manacles, on a single chain passing through a loop on the collar, thrashed at the water. Too, from the manacles other chains disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
"Do not struggle, Master!" begged the other man.
"Can you stay afloat? Can you swim?" I asked them.
"Our feet are chained!" said the man who had spoken.
"Hold to your fellow," I said. "I can support you."
I then drew them through the water to a piece of floating wreckage. I drew the first man upon it. The second climbed painfully, hampered by the chains, to its surface.
"I had not thought to meet you thus," I told them. "Strange indeed can be the fortunes of war."
"We are alone, in the river," said the first man, he whom the second had addressed as 'Master. "It is night. We are among enemies."
"Not all are enemies," I reassured him.
"What hope is there?" he asked.
"There is hope," I assured him.
A vessel, a lantern at her bow, nosed towards us.
"We are lost," said the first man.
"Jason, is it you?" inquired a voice from the bow of the vessel.
"It is," I said.
"Come aboard," said Callimachus. "There is little time. We must make away."
I helped the two chained men to stand on the wreckage, that they might be lifted aboard the _Tina_.
"Who are your friends?" inquired Callimachus.
"Krondar, the fighting slave," I said, "and Miles, of Vonda."