Mercenaries of Gor

8 Evidence of a Disquieting Event Is Found

"There is smoke ahead," said Mincon, pulling back on the reins, halting the wagon. He and Boabissia rose to their feet, looking ahead. I climbed on the spokes of the front wheel, near Boabissia. It was now late in the afternoon. The gag which I had fixed on her somewhat after the noon hour, shortly after we had begun our day' journey, I had, after an Ahn or two, loosened and pulled free. She was then somewhat subdued, knowing that it could be instantly replaced at our least irritation. It now, if only as a reminder, on its strings, still wet, hung loosely about her neck.

"What is it?" asked Hurtha.

"I do not know," I said.

Feiqa and Tula, kneeling on sacks in the back of the wagon, moved about a little. They had been very quiet all afternoon. I think that they had not wished to call attention to themselves. After all, they were there, riding in the wagon, and not afoot, on their tethers, behind it. Was this not almost like being a privileged free woman? To be sure, they were in the back of the wagon, where cargo is kept, in collars and slave tunics, and were kneeling. Slave girls can be very clever in such ways. Mincon and I, of course, indulgently pretended not to notice this.

"What is it?" asked Boabissia.

"I do not know," I said.

Feiqa and Tula, frightened, kneeling in the back of the wagon, looked at one another. They were goods.

"Remain here," I said. "I will investigate."

"I am coming with you," said Hurtha.

I nodded. I would welcome the company of the Alar. "I think there is trouble," said Mincon.

"Watch for our signal," I said.

I stepped down from the wheel and unsheathed my sword. I began then to advance down the road. Hurtha took his ax from the wagon and followed me.

The man lifted his hand, weakly, as though to fend a blow.

"Do not fear," I told him.

"Are you not with them?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"They came," he said, "as though from nowhere."

"They emerged from covered pits," I said, "dug near the road."

"They were suddenly everywhere, all about us, crying out, with reddened blades," he said, "and merciless. They were swift. We could not resist them. We are not soldiers. Then they were gone."

"Are there any other survivors?" I asked.

"I do not know," he said.

"There are others," I said, looking over the road.

"Yes," he said.

Free women had come to the road. They were now poking through the wreckage and ashes, moving bodies about, hunting for loot, or food. I did not think there would be much left for them.

The smell of smoke hung heavy in the still air.

"When did this happen?" I asked.

"An Ahn, perhaps two Ahn ago," he said. "I do not know."

He sat wearily beside the road, his head in his hands.

"It was more likely two Ahn," I said. "Their work here has been finished." "There are only the women now," he said, bitterly.

"Yes," I said. "Now there are only the women."

I looked about myself. Had the terrain been properly scouted, had the wagons been properly guarded, this thing presumably could not have happened, or, surely, not in as devastating a fashion as this.

"Ar has struck," said Hurtha, grimly.

"I do not think this is the work of the troops of Ar," I said.

"But who else?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"But what troops?" he asked.

"This does not look to me like the work of regular troops," I said. "Consider the wagons, the bodies."

The wagons had not merely been burned, that their cargoes might be destroyed, but, clearly, had been ransacked. Wrappings, sackings and broken vessels lay strewn about. Several bodies, it seemed, had been hastily examined. Some had been stripped of articles of clothing. I had found none with their wallets intact. In some cases digits had been cut away, presumably to free rings.

"Mercenaries," said Hurtha.

"It would seem so," I said. It is difficult to control such men. Most commanders, in certain situations, will give them their head. Indeed, in certain circumstances the attempt to impose discipline upon them can be extremely dangerous. It is something like informing the hunting sleen, eager, hot from the chase, his jaws red with blood, that he should now relinquish his kill. It must be understood, of course, that the average mercenary looks upon loot as his perquisite. He regards it, so to speak, as a part of his pay. Indeed, the promise of loot is almost always one of the recruiter's major inducements. "Cosian mercenaries?" asked Hurtha.

"Who knows?" I said. It did not seem to me impossible that some of the mercenary troops with the Cosian army might have doubled back to strike at one of their own supply columns. Surely the paucity of protection provided for such columns would not have escaped their notice.

I looked at the women, poking about amidst the wreckage. It had not taken them long to arrive. I could see some others, too, coming just now, from between the hills. Perhaps they had camps nearby. The wagons were in a long line, about a pasang long, Some, too, were off the road. Some were overturned. Most showed signs of fire. There were few tharlarion in evidence. Harnesses had been cut and they, it seems, had either been driven away or had wandered off. In one place there was a dead tharlarion, and the women, some crouching on it, were cutting it into pieces with knives, putting pieces of meat into their mouths, and hiding other pieces in their dresses.

"Jards," said Hurtha, in disgust.

I shrugged. These women were of the peasants. They were not given to the niceties of civilized women. Too, they were doubtless starving.

"Jards" said Hurtha.

"Even the jard desires to live," I said.

"It is not unknown that such women come to the fields," he said, "and even when not hungry."

"That is true," I said. Perhaps all women belonged in collars.

"We could probably follow the raiders," he said.

"Probably," I said. The trail was doubtless still fresh enough to permit this. One man, who knows what he is doing, can be extremely difficult to follow. It is extremely difficult, on the other hand, for a large group of men to cover their traces.

"Shall we do so?" asked Hurtha.

"Do you really wish to catch up with them?" I asked.

"I suppose not," he said.

"It is not our business," I said. "It is the business of those of Cos." Hurtha nodded.

"Perhaps you should signal Mincon," I said.

Hurtha walked back to the top of the small rise in the road. From there he could look back to where we had left the wagon. I saw him standing there, on the crest. He lifted his ax and beckoned that the others might now join us.

"Are you all right?" I asked the fellow by the side of the road.

"Yes," he said.

"Are you not hurt?" I asked. "I hid," he said. "I think no one saw me. I am sick. That is all. I am all right."

"We have a wagon," I told him. "You are welcome to ride with us to the next camp."

"Thank you," he said.

"You do not know who did this?" I asked.

"No," he said.

I saw the head of Mincon's tharlarion come over the rise, moving about, on its long neck, scanning the road, and then, in a moment, the wagon. I advanced to meet it.

Boabissia sat white-faced on the wagon box. I recalled that she was not Alar by blood. Her makeshift gag still hung about her neck. "It is not necessary to look," I told her.

"What went on here?" asked Mincon. "Those of Ar?"

"We do not know," said Hurtha.

Feiqa looked sick. Even Tula, of the peasants, was pale.

"Slaves," I said, "lie on your bellies in the wagon." This would bring their heads below the sides of the wagon.

Boabissia looked at me.

"There is nothing we can do," I said.

She nodded.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"If we had left this morning, with the others," she whispered, "we would have been here."

"Yes, I said. "But we might have survived. Doubtless some have survived. There are usually survivors. Even now word has probably been brought to the contingents ahead on the road."

"We would have been here," she said.

"That is true," I said.

I then went to the fellow whom we had found by the road and helped him to his feet.

"I would like for this fellow to sit on the wagon box, Boabissia," I said. "Please sit in the back."

Boabissia, saying nothing, crawled into the back of the wagon. She sat with her back against one side of the wagon bed. She said nothing. I helped the fellow up to the wagon box. He was unsteady. I think he was in shock. I put a blanket about him.

"Shall we go?" asked Mincon.

"Yes," I said.

We then began to thread our way among the burned wagons. Free women, now and then, as we passed, stopped to look up, and watch us. Twice Mincon, in rage, cracked his whip at them, and they fled back. But in a moment, as I ascertained, looking back, they had returned to their labors.