Swordsmen of Gor

Chapter Thirty-Nine A REPORT IS RECEIVED; ENEMIES ARE DISCUSSED

Tajima brought the tarn down, expertly, to the stem castle of the ship, and leapt from the saddle.

He cast the guide straps to a tarnster, who then conducted the bird, with its stately gait, toward the large descent way to the in-ship cots.

Tajima, sent to reconnoiter, had been awaited by Lord Nishida. I was present.

“Speak,” said Lord Nishida.

“They are waiting for us,” said Tajima.

“What of the sky?” I asked.

“The skies are clear,” said Tajima. “Ten would have opposed us, five were killed, and five fled. It seems they have learned little.”

I gathered that few tarnsmen cared to meet with the cavalry after the battle of Tarncamp. I suspected we had crippled, or reduced, the intelligence of the enemy. Their tarn scouts had been routinely dealt with, removed from the sky or driven toward the coast, pasangs before our passage. Doubtless some had reconnoitered by night. I wondered if their reports would be believed at the coast. Some may have been in the forest, along the shore, but, on foot, in our passage downriver, in its steadiness, we would have been likely to have outdistanced them. Some small boats had been attacked and driven back to the river bank. Doubtless we carried our spies on board, but they were likely to be of little value to an enemy with whom they could not communicate.

“What may we expect to encounter?” inquired lord Nishida.

We had been three days on the Alexandra, mainly carried downstream by the current. Small boats, oared, had occasionally preceded us, to confirm soundings. Oddly, I was not clear as to the identity of the ship’s master. It was alleged to be Aëtius, who was often seen on the stern castle, but I was uneasy in this matter, as I knew him, rather, as of the shipwrights. To be sure, there was no reason why a shipwright might not possess the seacraft, the judgment and wisdom of a high mariner, but it would be an unusual combination. We did have aboard several mariners, who had had service in round ships. The six nested galleys had their oarsmen and captains, but these captains, presumably, though familiar with the sea, would not be familiar with the problems and requirements of a ship such as that of Tersites. There was no Gorean precedent for the mastery of such a ship. Lords Nishida and Okimoto, of course, were highest amongst us, but neither, surely, was fit to command a vessel of this size, might, and design. Perhaps Aëtius was in command. It was not impossible.

“I think,” said Tajima, “they do not realize our nature. They have linked small boats across the mouth of the Alexandra, and prepared others, with ladders and grappling irons, suitable for dealing with round ships. On the banks they have set catapults.”

“Beware,” I said, “of great stones, and flaming pitch.”

“Do you feel, Tajima,” said Lord Nishida, “that the cavalry may deal with such weaponry?”

“Yes,” he said.

“At what strength do you put their forces?” asked Lord Nishida.

“They are like the sands of the shore,” said Tajima. “Their tents are spread for pasangs. I do not doubt but what they have ten thousand men.”

“Surely we have no intention of engaging them,” I said.

“Certainly not,” said Lord Nishida.

“Are there galleys off shore?” I inquired.

“Dozens,” said Tajima. “They dot the sea.”

“Do you think, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Lord Nishida, “they will dispute our passage.”

“Not successfully,” I said.

“Good,” said Lord Nishida.

“I do not think, Lord Nishida,” I said, “that you realize your most dangerous and fearsome enemy, that which you should most fear.”

“And what is that?” he asked.

“Thassa,” said I.

“Ah, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” he said, “I think it is you who do not understand the most dangerous and fearsome enemy.”

“And what is that?” I asked.

“That which lies at the conclusion of our voyage,” he said.