Mariners of Gor

Chapter Thirty-One

“Surely you know what they plan to do!” said Seremides.

“Yes,” I said, “but I do not think they will act until night.”

The eight hundred and seventy men were still held in the prison barracks. They would not interfere. They would be kept there until afterward, at least until tomorrow, when it would be too late.

A weapons inventory had been ordered for the loyal armsmen, and all weapons more serious than daggers were to be put into the great dojo, or training house, to be counted.

I did not think that most of the armsmen suspected what was afoot.

All morning and into the afternoon coffles of slave girls, ours, those brought on the great ship, and local girls, lovely, but of a low-Pani sort, kept in the castle for the pleasure of the Pani warriors, roped together, had descended to the wharf and then, laden with treasure, had been conducted up the trail, not by boys now, but by Pani warriors, to the high wharf gate. More than one such trip had been made. It was made clear to our men, our armsmen and mariners, that this action was intended to be one much to their benefit, that it was intended to secure and safeguard the treasure. Most of the men, given the identificatory markings on sacks and boxes, carefully checked and recorded, accepted this explanation, and even welcomed the removal of their wealth from the ship, and its storing closer at hand, under conditions of greater security. Given the harrows of the night of desertion, it was no longer accepted, at least uncritically, that the ship constituted an impregnable, unassailable refuge or depository for one’s riches. Better that they be guarded, and by our own armsmen, within the grounds themselves. Were they not vulnerable, outside the walls? Might there not be bandits? Might not the fleet of Lord Yamada appear, unexpectedly, or might not forces be landed from it, somewhere in the vicinity, which might raid the ship? Indeed, did not soldiers of Lord Yamada even now camp within sight of our walls?

It was late afternoon.

Our girls had been returned to their kennels, in the sheds, and the Pani girls to their housings within the castle.

The treasure, I gathered, was now on the grounds.

Interestingly, the Pani girls, though slaves, and of low-Pani origin, had been much distressed that they had been neck-roped in the same coffle with our ship slaves. Some had dared to voice their objections, and had been well switched, across the backs of the calves and ankles, by the Pani warriors charged with the care of the coffle, in this instance, as indicated, a treasure coffle, one used to transport carefully sealed, and marked, sacks and boxes from the ship, containing wealth derived from the derelicts of the Vine Sea. Were some slaves, truly, as might be suggested by the protests of the Pani slaves, objections promptly rebuked by the sting of switches, so appropriately despised, and so obviously inferior to others, that it was humiliating to share a coffle with them? Certainly there were differences amongst the slaves, with respect to the nature of their eyes, the color of their skin, their accents, and such. Who could, or would wish to, gainsay that? On the other hand, beyond that, what would remain to be said? Surely they were all attractive. This is not surprising. If a woman is not attractive, she is not likely to be enslaved. Let the homely, plain ones be as free as they wish. Surely the Pani slaves and our ship slaves, despite obvious differences in appearance, had much in common. Each was attractive. Each was a purchasable beast, a domestic animal. Each was a slave. Thus, despite the concerns of the Pani collar meat, how could they be more equal? On the other hand, our ship slaves, with their generally fair skins, were neck-roped at the end of the coffle, which is often taken as a position of inferiority. This, I gather, pleased their Pani chain sisters.

One additional point might be noted with respect to the treasure coffle. The boxes, on straps, and the sacks, on cords, were slung about the slaves, two to each slave, a balanced load, one strap or cord running from the left shoulder to the right hip, and the other from the right shoulder to the left hip. This was because the hands of the slaves were not free, as is common in a coffle. The hands of the Pani slaves were tied together, and fastened about their collar, either in front, or behind the neck, and the hands of the ship slaves were thonged together behind their back. The reason for this was to preclude any possible attempt to rifle the contents of a box or sack. To be sure, as these containers were sealed, and marked, it was unlikely that any such tampering, or pilfering, would take place, certainly without being eventually detectable. This arrangement also made it unnecessary, at the journey’s end, to examine the bodies of the slaves, or, for the next day or two, their wastes.

“They will not act,” said Seremides, “until the ship’s garrison is withdrawn, to the wharf, or trail.”

“That will be after dark,” I said.

“The trail, the wharf, will be guarded,” he said.

“Doubtless,” I said.

“Should it not be taken to sea first?” said Seremides.

“I do not think they will risk that,” I said. “Too, these Pani are not mariners.”

“Do you have a plan?” asked Seremides.

“How is it that I, one such as I, should have a plan?” I asked.

“What is to take place?” he said.

“Much is uncertain,” I said.

“Take me with you,” he said. “Do not leave me here!”

“How is it that I should go, anywhere?” I said.

“Take me with you,” he said.

“Stay with your treasure,” I said.

“We must seize it, and take it,” he said.

“It is guarded,” I said.

“I know a slave,” he said, “who would be worth gold in Ar.”

“What slave?” I said.

“You know,” he said.

“Perhaps not,” I said.

“She may be abducted,” he said. “We can break the locks on her kennel, and take her with us.”

“What slave?” I asked.

“I will reveal her name,” he said, “if you will take me with you.”

“I have no intention of going anywhere,” I said.

“Do not jest,” he said.

“I do not jest,” I said.

“Her name is Alcinoe,” he said, angrily.

“Interesting,” I said.

“Some will go!” he said.

“Some may try,” I said.

“I have seen mariners converse,” he said.

“On what subject?” I asked.

He turned away, angry, and swung his body, a stride at a time, from my presence.

I had spoken truly to Seremides.

I was not going anywhere.

She was worthless, of course, and I was weak, but I would not leave her behind, no more than my heart.

Fool, I said to myself, fool!

Do not care for her!

Use the whip on her!

Teach her she is a slave!

Do not let her forget it!

But I would not leave her behind.