Swordsmen of Gor

Chapter Thirty-One I HEAR OF THE SELECTIONS

“We anticipated your reluctance, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Lord Nishida. “But you must try to understand.”

“Some things,” I said, “are not to be understood.”

“Do not judge where you do not yet understand,” he said.

“I understand what I am asked to understand,” I said, “but I choose not to understand.”

“You refuse?” asked Lord Nishida.

“Yes,” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “The codes.”

We sat across from one another, cross-legged, the small, low table between us.

“I expected it,” said Lord Nishida.

“You must intervene,” I said.

“Lord Okimoto is cousin to the shogun,” said Lord Nishida.

My bonds had been removed, but I had been kept in confinement, in a shed near the river.

“Pertinax, even Tajima, and Ichiro, and others, have objected,” said Lord Nishida.

I was silent.

“They have been reprimanded,” said Lord Nishida.

“Tortured, crucified?” I asked.

“Certainly not,” said Lord Nishida. “They are of value, even Pertinax. His skills increase. They will not be involved in the selections.”

“What of Nodachi, swordsman?” I asked.

“He is outside,” said Lord Nishida. “He is not involved.”

“I see,” I said.

“Too,” said Lord Nishida, “who could stand against him?”

“True,” I said.

“The selections will take place tomorrow,” said Lord Nishida.

“I will not participate,” I said.

“You will not be expected to participate,” said Lord Nishida. “You, and others, are outside the selections.”

“These men have fought for you,” I said.

“They are mercenaries,” said Lord Nishida, “and the dregs of such, chosen for skill and venality, brought from a hundred cities, from the ruins and rubble of Ar, from the alleys of Besnit and Harfax, from the wharves of Brundisium and Schendi, men without Home Stones, thieves, outlaws, murderers, outcasts, ronen, men carried by the currents, men whose word is worthless, men of no lords, save a stater or tarn disk of gold.”

“They have fought for you,” I said.

“No one needs fight who does not wish it,” said Lord Nishida. “The matter is simple, pairs will be matched, and a golden tarn disk to the survivor, and a berth on the great ship.”

“Perhaps, with a tarn disk of gold in his purse, a fellow may decline such a berth.”

“That would be unfortunate,” said Lord Nishida.

“How many do you expect to die?” I asked.

“Some five hundred,” said Lord Nishida.

“What if some choose not to fight?” I asked.

“They are mercenaries,” said Lord Nishida. “They will cut their brother’s throat for a silver tarsk, so why not that of a stranger for a disk of gold?”

“And who,” I asked, “will preside over this slaughter?”

“Lord Okimoto, of course,” said Lord Nishida.

“He is a greater name, a greater daimyo, than you, I take it,” I said.

“He is cousin to the shogun,” said Lord Nishida.

“Dissuade him from this madness!” I urged.

“The selections,” said Lord Nishida, rising, “take place tomorrow.”