John Norman - Rogue of Gor

In spite of her beauty and his frequent use of the tavern of Tasdron he had never ordered her, whip in hand, to strip and hurry to an alcove for his pleasure. In the misery of his dereliction and afflicted by the devitalizing consequences attendant upon it he had preferred the indulgences of self-pity and the delusory solaces of paga to the exultant and proud imposition of his will, as a dominant male, on the hearts and bodies of writhing female slaves. Then when he had recalled himself to the codes of his caste he had resolved to forgo the victories and the rights, and the joys and triumphs, of the mastership until certain serious, projected works had been accomplished. It was in connection with such works that we had met this night in the tavern of Tasdron.

“You understand,” said Tasdron, “that it is dangerous for me even to be a party to these matters.”

Callimachus looked away from the girl, kneeling, head down, by the far wall. She was only a slave.

“If men such as Kliomenes or Policrates should understand that we are met on such subjects, my tavern, at the least, would be speedily reduced to ashes.”

“That is understood, Tasdron,” said Callimachus. “We are sensitive to the danger that there is in this for you.”

“But there is surely,” said Tasdron, “much greater danger for you.”

“We will accept the risks,” said Callimachus.

“I, too, then,” said Tasdron, “will do no less.”

“Good,” said Callimachus.

We spoke softly. We sat about a small table in a back room in Tasdron’s tavern. Callimachus had kept the repudiation of his dereliction a secret from those in Victoria. When he went about in public it seemed his shoulders were bent, his eyes bleared, his step uncertain, his hand unsure. It was only at times like now, when with trusted men, that he sat, and carried himself, and spoke as a warrior. Victoria knew him still as only a fallen man, one defeated, one lax in his caste codes, one inert and whining in traps of his own weaving. They knew him still, as we had decided fit for our plans, as only a sot and a drunkard. They needed not know that he who had fallen had now risen; that once more the codes were kept with pride; that the cords with which he had once, with such pain and skill, bound himself, he had now sundered and torn from him, like an enraged larl emerging fiercely from a net now too frail to hold him longer. He had recalled that he was Callimachus, of the Warriors, one entrusted with steel, one entitled to wear the scarlet of the proud caste. I did not think it likely that he would forget these things again.

“I have spoken to Glyco, Merchant of Port Cos,” said Callimachus. “He will fetch Callisthenes, who is captain of the forces of Port Cos in Victoria, he in search of the topaz. He will come to this place at the twentieth Ahn.”

“He must come in disguise,” said Tasdron. “Spies are everywhere.”

“That will be made clear to him by Glyco,” said Callimachus.

I observed Peggy, the long-haired, long-legged, blond Earth-girl slave, kneeling, head down, by the far wall. Her shoulders shook with a sob. She was so near to him whom she so vulnerably and desperately loved and yet, as a slave, must remain helplessly silent.

“Have you made inquiries among those of Victoria?” asked Callimachus of Tasdron. “Is there support for our work in the town?”

“I have with circumspection made these inquiries,” said Tasdron, dourly, “but I fear there is little support in this place for such dangerous labors.”

“We can expect no aid, then, from Victoria?” said Callimachus.

“None,” said Tasdron.

I continued to watch the girl, her head down, at the far wall. She, a female and a slave, had been banished to that place, that she might not be privy to the discourse of men and masters. Yet she was close enough to be promptly summoned, to serve instantly if aught might be required of her.

Her shoulders shook with sobs. I looked away from her. She was only a slave, and slaves are nothing.

“We must arrange that Aemilianus, Captain of the forces of Ar’s Station in Victoria, also attend this meeting tonight,” said Callimachus.

“Surely it has not escaped your attention,” smiled Tasdron, “that Cos and Ar are currently at war.”

“No,” said Callimachus. “Yet I think the common interest on the river of Ar’s Station and Port Cos, and, indeed, of Cos and Ar themselves, should persuade them to regard our plan with care.”

“Those of Port Cos and Ar’s Station would sooner beat one another’s throats than share wine in Victoria,” said Tasdron.

“The problems of Port Cos are not identical to those of Cos,” said Callimachus, “nor are those of Ar’s Station identical with those of Ar.”

“Ar’s Station is, in effect, an outpost of Ar,” said Tasdron. “It is unlike Port Cos, which is a colony, and whose ties with Cos are largely historical and cultural.”

“Yet guardsmen of these two places have been for weeks in Victoria and have made no effort to seek one another out.”

“Indeed,” said Tasdron, thoughtfully, “they have studiously avoided one another.”

“The location of their diverse headquarters are surely known, one to the other,” said Callimachus.

“That is true,” said Tasdron.

“And yet neither has stormed the headquarters of the other.”

“True,” said Tasdron.

“Does it not then seem that they have other things on their mind more important than the indisputable differences which separate them?”

“Perhaps,” said Tasdron.

“I suggest,” said Callimachus, “that the security of the river is of greater concern to them both than the distant wars of their allies.”

“This may be true,” said Tasdron, “but surely it is nothing they could admit openly.”

“What could admit it more openly than their common presence in Victoria, without strife?” asked Callimachus.

“Aemilianus will never confer with us should he learn that Callisthenes is to be party to our proceedings, nor will Callisthenes permit himself to attend a meeting at which he knows that one of Ar’s Station is to be present.”

“Each need not know in advance of the projected attendance of the other,” said Callimachus.

“And what will you do when they learn of this matter?” asked Tasdron.

“Attempt to prevent bloodshed,” said Callimachus.

“I trust that you will be successful,” said Tasdron, glumly. “If either Aemilianus or Callisthenes should be felled in my tavern, I think the incident would be unlikely to escape the attention of their allied guardsmen.”

“To be sure,” smiled Callimachus, “their vengeance would doubtless be merciless and prompt.”

Tasdron shuddered. Gorean men, in certain matters, tend not to be patient.

“Glyco, to whom I have spoken, being a merchant of Port Cos, can meet openly with Callisthenes without arousing suspicion. There will be no difficulty, thus, in bringing Callisthenes to our meeting. The matter, however, will be otherwise with Aemilianus. It is unlikely that he can be subtly contacted. Here there is danger. He, like Callisthenes, is doubtless under surveillance by spies of pirates.”

“I am hungry,” I said.

“Peggy,” said Tasdron, raising his voice.

Swiftly the girl leaped to her feet and, with a sound of slave bells, hurried to the table, beside which she knelt. “Yes, Master,” she said.

“Bring me bread and meat,” I said to her.

“Me, too,” said Callimachus, seeming to look through her, without really seeing her. She was only a girl who was owned, and must obey.

“Yes, Master,” she said. Her lip trembled.

“Me, too,” said Tasdron, “and, too, bring forth some cheese and dates.”

“Yes, Master,” she said. “Do Masters desire drink?”