Vagabonds of Gor

30 The Tor Shrub

I looked off, through the shrubbery and trees, behind Titus. There was something there of interest.

Plenius was beside me. We were in a camp. Trees, generally not common in the marshy delta, were more common now, as we were approaching its southern edge.

It was now eleven days since the uncovering of the identity of the captive, Ina, had taken place. Nine days ago we had come across the sand island where the tharlarion drive of the rencers had taken place, followed by the rain of arrows. Most of the arrows were gone, apparently having been retrieved later by rencers. As I have mentioned, the arrows, of tern wood, are precious to the rencers, that wood not being indigenous to the delta. Rencers sometimes, incidentally, trade for the arrow shafts and points separately. They can then point their own arrows and fletch them themselves, of course, as they are normally fletched with the feathers of the Vosk gul, which is abundant in the delta. Five days ago, moving east, we had come to the island where the giant turtle had been killed. We had managed to use its righted shell as part of the cover in one of our camps, digging sleeping places beneath it. The next day, having come far enough east to hopefully place Cosian patrols to our west, across our most likely route of exit, we began to move south. This should bring us out well east of Brundisium and well west of Ven, an area which I expected would no longer be regarded by the Cosians as worthy of particular vigilance. They would assume, I hoped, that fugitives would generally move directly north or south from the point at which the columns were stalled, attempting to free themselves of the dangers of the delta as swiftly as possible. It would not occur to them, or, I hoped it would not, that fugitives might, for a time, retrace their earlier, luckless routes, those presumably now closed off by rencers from them, those which had proved so disastrous for them. That route, or one of them, that which had been followed by the vanguard, or one close to it, was thus the one I had chosen for our trek. Now, however, we had left it. I guessed we were still some four or five days from the edge of the delta. We would not wish to continue east, of course, as this would bring us into territories controlled by Turmus on the north and Ven on the south, both polities favorably disposed to Cos.

"Plenius," I said.

"Yes?" he said.

"Look behind Titus," I said, "some thirty to forty yards back, in the shrubbery, where the two trees are close together."

"Yes?" he said.

"That is enough," I said.

"I do not understand," he said.

"What did you see?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said.

"What did you see?" I asked.

"Shrubbery," he said, "some grass, some rence, two trees."

"What sort of shrubbery?" I asked.

"Some festal," he said, "some tes, a bit of tor."

"You are sure it is a tor shrub?" I asked.

He looked. "Yes," he said.

"I, too, think it is a tor shrub," I said. The shrub has various names but one of them is the tor shrub, which name might be fairly translated, I would think, as, say, the bright shrub, or the shrub of light, it having that name, I suppose, because of its abundant, bright flowers, either yellow or white, depending on the variety. It is a very lovely shrub in bloom. It was not in bloom now, of course, as it flowers in the fall.

He looked at me. "So?" he asked.

"Do you notice anything unusual about it?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"How high is it?" I asked.

"I would say some five feet in height," he said.

"That, too, would be my estimate," I said.

"I do not understand," he said.

"Does that not seem interesting to you?" I asked.

"Not really," he said.

"It does to me," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"The tor shrub," I said, "does not grow higher than a man's waist."