Vagabonds of Gor

32 Rendezvous

"Yes. Yes!" cried Ina softly.

Well, and prettily, had she begged again, much as might have a slave, and I had seen fit to reward her.

She had first learned to beg, rather as a slave, on the morning after the young rencer had left us, after our trek of the night. I recalled how she had crawled to me on her knees, desperately, needfully, piteously, her hands pinioned helplessly behind her, in her bonds. She had been pretty. Indeed, it had been hard to tell her from a slave. In response to her request I had, in the past few days, taught her various modalities of petition, which I had trained her in, sometimes over and over, to be sure, modalities more appropriate to the female slave than the free woman. The day before yesterday she had crawled to me on all fours. Yesterday afternoon she had crawled to me on her belly, to lick and kiss at my feet. This afternoon, she had approached me on her belly with a switch in her teeth, to be used on her liberally if she were not pleasing. It lay to one side. It had not been necessary to use it. She had been pleasing, quite.

"Yes," she whispered.

The usages to which I had subjected her this afternoon, one might think, would have contented even a lascivious bondmaid, not to mention a mere free woman.

"Oh, yes," she said.

Then I rolled to one side, and lay on one elbow, regarding her.

"A captive is grateful," she said, "for the attentions of her captor."

She then lay on her back, in the sand, looking up. We were near a Tur tree.

"I am sure of it," Titus called down, from the branches of the tree. "I can see fields, some pasangs off. It is the edge of the delta!"

"Good," said more than one man about, but surely they, as I, knew that the most dangerous part of the journey lay ahead of us.

I regarded Ina.

She seemed quiet now, but I knew that in the delta slave fires had been ignited in her belly. She seemed quiet now, but somewhere within her those fires lay smoldering, ready to spring again, persistently, predictably, mercilessly, into flame. I did not know if she could ever return to being a free woman, in the full sense. She was now, I feared, the sort of woman who belongs to men.

I would scout out the edge of the delta, at night, trying to find an avenue of escape for myself, for Ina, and the others. I doubted that it would be easy. Also, beyond the delta, one would not have the cover of the marsh, the rence.

"Are you eager to leave the delta, my captor," asked Ina, turning to look upon me.

"Yes," I said.

"Yet you seem apprehensive," she said.

"I am," I said.

"I do not know if I wish to leave the delta," she said.

"Oh?" I said.

"I have been happier here," she said, "than anywhere in my life."

"Perhaps you could remain here," I said.

"If I were to remain here," she said, "if I were not devoured, I would be sure to fall to a rencer."

"To be then kept, or sold," I said.

"Perhaps to be recognized," she said, "and then put out for tharlarion."

"It is possible," I said.

"I was seen by hundreds of rencers," she said. "Any one of them might recognize me. It is possible I might not be permitted a veil."

"That is surely possible," I said. I smiled to myself. Not even the free women of the rencers veil themselves. I suspected that the Lady Ina's days of the veil were over. Captives and slaves are commonly denied the veil.

"Stay with me in the rence," she whispered. "Keep me here, with you, as you have been."

"I have business out of the delta," I said.

She looked at me, tears in her eyes.

"And you, too," I said, "should leave the delta. You are not a rencer. You do not belong here."

She lay on her back, the palms of her hands down, her fingers in the sand. "I know." she said. Then suddenly her fingers clawed down, into the sand. "But I am a captive," she said. "I do not know what is to become of me outside of the delta!"

"Perhaps you could return to Ar," I said.

"Oh, yes!" she laughed.

To be sure, she was thousands of pasangs from Ar, and if she ever returned to Ar presumably she would do so only as a scantily clad slave, her former wealth, identity, station and position irretrievably removed from her, no different from other such slaves in the city.

"You cannot remain here," I said.

"I know," she said.

We had moved southwest for two days after the visit of the young rencer to our camp, and had then adjusted our trek to the southeast, and then to the south, to reach the point at which I wished to exit from the delta, a point far enough from both Brundisium, on the coast, and Ven, on the south bank of the Vosk, to be far from any major bases of Cosians. Presumably the Cosians would not expect many of Ar to leave the delta in this area, particularly this late in summer. Too, they would be likely to assume that most of Ar's expeditionary force in the delta would by now have either successfully effected its exit or perished. I supposed that this late in the summer most Cosian regulars would have been withdrawn from the delta watch. I had even hoped that these areas would not be heavily patrolled. The young rencer had warned me, however, I recalled, that the edges of the delta were infested by Cosians and their hirelings. That had been an unwelcome intelligence, but one I did not find it hard to credit. To be sure, I suspected that he, or his informants, would not be likely to discriminate nicely between complete and selective surveillance, between closed patterns, such as manned perimeters, and random patrols, or even between Cosian regulars and mercenaries.

"Be of good cheer," I said. "Out of the delta you may even be permitted clothing, other than, say, a meager pair of slave strips."

"I might have been granted only one," she said.

"True," I said. I recalled Phoebe, the slim young maid of Cos whom I had taken with me, at her request, from the Crooked Tarn. I had put her in a single slave strip before I had turned her over to Ephialtes, the sutler, to hold for me. He might, by now, I supposed, be in the vicinity of Brundisium. Presumably the balance of Cos' northern forces, mostly mercenaries, would have retired to that city, for mustering out, or reassignment.

"But surely you are distressed," I said, "that you have been garmented as you have, in such a manner that you might at a distance, save for the collar, be mistaken for a thigh-stripped, bare-breasted slave."

"The delta is warm," she said, evasively. "The slave strips are comfortable. Too, it gives pleasure to the men, I think, that they see me in them."

"They give you pleasure, too," I said, "that you know how beautiful and exciting you are in them."

"Perhaps," she said, rising to her knees, modestly adjusting them. This she now did with her hands. When a girl's hands are bound behind her she customarily does this by movements of her hips and belly. To be sure, it might be to her advantage, in such a case, to make certain that men are not watching, lest she must then redo the work, again and again.

"I wonder if I am to be again clothed," she said.

"You are already clothed," I said.

"Other than slave strips!" she said.

"I would think so," I said.

"If I am given clothing," she said, "I wonder what sort of clothing it would be."

"I do not know," I said.

"I know what sort of clothing I would like," she said.

"The resplendent, many-colored robes of concealment?" I asked.

She lay on her stomach then, facing me, her elbows in the sand, her chin on her fists. She smiled. "I was thinking of something lighter, briefer, more comfortable," she said.

"Something less pretentious?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "And I might like something else, too."

"Jewelry?" I asked.

"Of sorts," she said. "Something I might wear on my neck."

"Jeweled necklaces," I suggested.

"I was thinking of something simpler," she said.

"And less pretentious?"

"Yes," she said. "And something else, something which I might wear on my thigh."

"A beauty enhancer?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, "and a quite meaningful one."

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Plenius, I understand," I said, "has been giving you lessons in tongue work."

"Yes," she said, "he has been very kind."

"Has he had to whip you?" I asked.

"No," she said. "May I show you some of the things I have learned?"

"Yes," I said.

She moved toward me, delicately. "Perhaps you will improve upon his instruction," she said.

"I would be inclined to doubt it," I said, "but it is true that I might have certain preferences. These can vary from fellow to fellow."

"Yes," she said, eagerly, "the individual captor is everything."

"Or master," I said.

"Yes," she whispered, "or master."

I then permitted the Lady Ina to exhibit for me certain of the results of her training, and these, too, I modified here and there, according to my own lights and tastes.

"Is my tongue work satisfactory?" she asked.

"It is excellent, for a free woman," I said.

"But for a slave?" she asked.

"You would have to improve it, considerably," I said.

"I shall endeavor to do so," she said.

To be sure, there is something about the collar which transforms a woman, internally as well as externally, its incredible effects manifesting themselves both psychologically and behaviorally, and even in such things as the subtlety, delicacy and helplessness of her tongue work.

An Ahn or so later, she was beneath me, clutching me, looking up at me.

"Hist!" said Titus, from the branches of the Tur tree.

I thrust Ina away, into the sand, rising to a crouch beside her.

"Someone is coming!" said Titus.

"Where? Who?" I asked.

"There," said Titus, pointing to the northwest. "There is a fellow running, a Cosian, and some fellows in the garb of Ar, how many I am not sure, are pursuing him."

This seemed to be surely strange, in this area. If anything, I would have expected Cosians to be pursuing some poor fugitive from Ar, one trying to escape the delta. Perhaps they were actually Cosians, or mercenaries, dressed to lure in fellows of Ar, and the fellow, himself, might be of Ar, in the uniform of a Cosian. That would make some sense, at any rate.

"Plenius," I called. He was next in authority in our small group, after Labienus.

"I heard," he said, appearing from the brush, a spear in his hand.

"They are coming this way," called Titus.

"Let us investigate," I said. To be sure, they might be all Cosians, or mercenaries, enacting some charade to put us off our guard.

By hand signals Plenius deployed our fellows. He then, they fanned out behind him, followed me.

In a few moments I caught sight of the runner, and the fellows pursuing him. Oddly, none seem armed. They were then, I gathered, not likely, any of them, really, to be Cosians or mercenaries.

I considered the likely path of the fugitive, given the lay of the land, the simplest geodesics he might traverse, giving him the least resistance to flight.

I could hear him splashing through some shallow water now, several yards away.

I signaled to Plenius that his fellows might take up positions in the brush, on either side of the likely path of the runner. Plenius, close to me now, half bent over in the brush, grasped his spear in two hands, for the forward thrust. Given the swiftness of the runner and the strength of Plenius, who was a large, strong man, and who had come up through the ranks as a spearman, that thrust, compounding the forces involved, would presumably carry both the head and upper part of the haft through the runner's body.

I put my hand on the spear and pushed it down. "Let him pass," I said. He looked at me, puzzled, but did not demur. He signaled to the others not to strike. I did not think they would be likely to fall on the pursuers. They were, presumably, fellows of Ar, if not of their commands.

I saw the runner fall once and then, gasping, get up, and run again. I smiled. He was not moving as well as he might have. I wondered if I could mention that to him. Perhaps he had not eaten well lately. On the, other hand the fellows behind him were not doing as well as they might either. I did not think I would have entered any of them in the Sardar Games, held at the fairs.

The blue uniform stumbled by, not even seeing us, as far as I could detect.

Close behind it came a fellow in red, whom I took the liberty of tripping. He fell into the sand, forward, and before he could rise I had stepped on his out-flung right hand, pinning it down, and my sword was at the back of his neck. "Do not move," I told him. Then to the other fellows stumbling along behind him, I held up my hand, palm toward them. "Hold!" I advised them. They stopped, startled. I wore the shreds, of course of a uniform of Ar.

"Advance no further," I told them, "or this fellow is dead."

"We pursue one of Cos!" said a fellow.

I removed my foot from the prone fellow's hand and my sword from the back of his neck, to show him, and the others, I had no grim intentions toward him, such as the quick, light thrust which separates the vertebrae at the back of the neck. Besides they had stopped, graciously acceding to my request. The fellow who had been in the lead now crawled back, to stand with the others. There were seven of them.

"We were pursuing one of the Cos!" he said.

"He is not of Cos," I said, "but of Ar's Station."

The men looked at one another. Then our fellows, startling them, seemed to materialize about them, from the brush and grass. I doubted if the fellows in the Barrens could have done it more neatly. It seems there is no one there, and then, suddenly, perhaps too suddenly, it seems as though folks are all about. At least our fellows were not screaming wildly and loosing arrows from small bows into their bodies, attacking them with knives and hatchets, and such.

"I am Plenius, subaltern to Labienus, commander of the vanguard," said Plenius.

"I am Claudius, spearman of the 11th," said the fellow who had been first, he whom I had sprawled, somewhat deftly I thought, into the sand. The 11th had been one of the major commands on the left flank. It, attempting to withdraw from the delta, with the 7th, 9th and 14th, had been decimated. These were probably survivors of that disaster, who had fled back to the delta, and, in effect, to the mercies of rencers.

"You have lost us the Cosian," said one of the men.

"He is not a Cosian," I said.

"Who are you?" asked Claudius, "Tarl," I said, "of Port Kar."

"The other spy!" said a fellow with the newcomers.

"Seize him!" begged Claudius, addressing this entreaty to Plenius.

He himself, personally, disarmed, would not be likely to leap upon my sword.

"Be silent," said Plenius. "Cosians may be about."

Claudius looked at Plenius, puzzled.

"Tarl of Port Kar," said Plenius, "is a friend to Ar."

"Well," I said, "at least to you, if not to Ar."

"If you try to harm, him," said Plenius, "we will cut you to pieces."

This consideration, I noted, dampened the ardor of the newcomers.

"And the other fellow, too," said Plenius, "is undoubtedly a friend to Ar."

"At least," I said, "he would doubtless be well disposed toward you, personally." I frankly doubted that there would be many folks from Ar's Station who would retain much affection for, or allegiance to, Ar, given Ar's abandonment of Ar's Station to the Cosian force in the north. If there were any, however, I did not doubt but what among them might be counted the young fellow who had just rushed past.

"Where is he?" asked one of our fellows.

"At the rate he was going," I said, "I doubt that he is far."

"Are you hungry?" Plenius asked the newcomers.

"Yes," said more than one. I found this easy to believe. It seemed to be confirmed by certain rumblings which came now and then to my ears.

"What do you have to eat?" asked Claudius.

"Do not ask," said Plenius.

"Why was the fellow you were after in a uniform of Cos?" I asked.

I myself, when a captive of the men of Ar, and thought to be in the fee of Cos, had not been granted such an indulgence.

"It was given to him by rencers," said Claudius, "who took our word that he was Cosian, even though he himself denied it."

"You have had dealings with rencers?" inquired Plenius.

The newcomers looked at one another.

"Speak," said Plenius.

"We were with the 11th," said Claudius, "which, with its associated columns, was defeated several weeks ago, attempting to exit from the delta. Many were slain, many were captured. Many, including ourselves, fled back into the marshes. It is hard to know what became of most of these. I suppose many perished in the marshes, some to the arrows of rencers, some to beasts, some to the sand, and such. I do not know. Doubtless some escaped."

"But you have had dealings with rencers?" pressed Plenius.

"In the past few weeks," said Claudius, "the rencers have been combing the marshes for survivors."

"Go on," said Plenius.

"They have been hunting us, like animals," he said, bitterly.

"That they may slay you?" asked Plenius.

"If it pleases them," he said, "but, too, as it might please them, they trap us, surprise us, surround us, catch us, take us, almost with impunity, to strip us and chain us, and sell us as slaves to Cosians."

"That then," said Plenius, "was the nature of your dealings with rencers?" He would surely have noticed that their weapons were gone. On the other hand, they were clothed.

"We were exhausted in the rence, lost, starving," said Claudius. "I do not think we could have survived a direct attack. They must have been following us, watching us. We did not even know they were there. We thought we were alone, with the tharlarion, and our misery. Then one night, on the sand, we awakened, knives at our throats. In a few Ehn we were naked, manacled, hand and foot, chained by the neck in a coffle. Our uniforms were not destroyed. They were not cut from us. Rather we were forced to remove them before our chaining. The Cosians, it seems, wanted some uniforms, doubtless for purposes of subterfuge or infiltration. Too, the women of the rencers like the bright cloth, and we were told, too, that some of them were to be cut into slave strips, or fashioned into ta-teeras, slave rags, for slave girls, such being, in their opinion, a fit disposition for such material."

One of our fellows made an angry noise. To be sure, I had fashioned Ina's slave strips from such material, and he did not seem to object to them on her. Indeed, I am sure he regarded her as quite fetching in them. Surely he had kept his eye on her often enough in them, she working about the camp.

"We were then marched north, under whips, as though we might have been mere females, and taken to a holding area. There we were added to chains of more than two hundred and fifty poor fellows, taken in the marshes, their plight the same as ours."

"What of the one you call a Cosian?" I asked.

"He, though they found him bound in our camp, suffered a similar fate," said Claudius. "Our captors did not much discriminate amongst us. Too, they may have taken him, at first, as one of our own, though under detention. His accent, for example, did not suggest that of Cos."

"But you are here now," said Plenius.

"I cannot explain it," said Claudius.

"What happened?" asked Plenius.

"A few days ago," said Claudius, puzzled, "all of us in the holding area were released. Our uniforms, but not our weapons, were returned to us. For the first time our captors then took seriously that the Cosian with us was a Cosian. At our request, they found for him a uniform of Cos, probably one which they had been given as a diplomatic gift, or one of several for use in approaching Cosian patrols. He objected, but we insisted that he wear it. Surely we would not permit him a uniform of glorious Ar. We would remove it from him as soon as it would prove feasible. The rencers, noting our hostility to the Cosian, and accepting the possibility that he might actually be Cosian, permitted him to leave the holding area before us, presumably so he would have time to reach the Cosian lines before we could apprehend him. A few of us, who had had him in our keeping earlier, then determined, of course, to follow and recapture him. We have been pursuing him southeast for days, and only this morning caught sight of him. I think we would have taken him, too, had it not been for your intervention."

"He is not a Cosian," I said. Claudius shrugged.

"Do you know why you were released?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Do you know anything about it?" I asked.

"Only," said he, "that it was by the orders of a fellow named Tamrun."

Plenius and I exchanged pleased glances, as did the others of our fellows.

"Is this significant?" asked Claudius.

"I think so," I said. "We may explain our speculations to you later. But now, I think, the fellows of Ar in the delta, if there are any left, are safe from rencers, or, at least, in no more danger than they would be ordinarily, for example, if they were so rash as to pass warning signals, and such."

"But not safe from Cosians," said Plenius.

"Certainly not," I said.

"Nor from those who take fee from Cos," said a fellow.

"True," I said.

"Look," said a man. He pointed back. There, several yards away, looking toward us, was a fellow in a Cosian uniform. He had undoubtedly soon discovered that the pursuit of which he had been the object had been discontinued. He had then, rather than continue his flight, paused to reconnoiter. He must have been puzzled, indeed, by our little grouping.

I waved to him. "Ho, Marcus," I called. "Come, join us!"

"Any who would attempt to harm him, or offer him violence," said Plenius, "will be cut to pieces."

The newcomers looked at one another.

"Is that understood?" asked Plenius.

"Yes," said Claudius.

Slowly, haggard, stumbling, Marcus approached us. "Tarl," he said, "is it you?"

"Yes," I said. "And you were running very poorly. We are going to have to give you some rest, and some food. Then we have work to do."

"Work?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "We must prepare to leave the delta."