John Norman - Rogue of Gor

“It seems they know anything that occurs on the river,” he admitted.

“If that be the case,” I said, “surely the forging of the chain, or at least its transport to Turmus, and later to Port Cos, and the time and effort spent in preparing its mountings, joining the lengths, and setting the chain in place, must have been known to the pirates.”

“Supposedly this was done in secrecy,” said Callisthenes, “but I think there is little doubt they must have understood what was being done. Indeed, I have heard that there are rumors of the work in various of the western towns, in Turmus and Ven, in Tetrapoli and Tafa.”

“Indeed,” smiled Glyco. “We have even received a protest from Ven in the council.”

“On the assumption that the pirates understood what was occurring,” I said to Callisthenes, “does it not seem strange to you that they made no effort to interfere with the placing of the chain?”

“It was guarded, of course,” said Callisthenes.

“But no effort, even a small one, or one in force or desperation, by steel or by guile, was made to prevent its placing?”

“None, at least to my knowledge,” said Callisthenes.

“You yourself are presumably well informed,” I said.

“I trust so,” said Callisthenes.

“Does this lack of opposition or interference on the part of pirates as powerful and well organized as those of Ragnar Voskjard not seem puzzling to you?”

“Yes,” said Callisthenes.

“What would you conclude from this lack of interest or action on their part?” I asked.

“I do not know,” said Callisthenes, angrily.

“The conclusion is clear,” said Glyco.

“And what do you conclude?” inquired Callisthenes.

“That they do not fear it,” said Glyco, “that they do not regard it as a threat to themselves.”

Callisthenes scowled at the portly merchant.

“If that is their belief, they are, in my opinion, surely mistaken,” said Callisthenes.

“Do you truly think a chain will stop the fleet of Ragnar Voskjard?” asked Callimachus.

“Surely,” said Callisthenes, “the chain and, too, of course, the vessels of Port Cos.”

“We know,” said Tasdron, “that the topaz was brought to Victoria. It was doubtless brought as a pledge of Ragnar Voskjard to Policrates. It signifies, in effect, the agreement of Ragnar Voskjard to join forces with Policrates. I do not doubt that the fleet of Ragnar Voskjard, in a short time, will follow the topaz.”

“Aiii!” whispered Glyco.

“Voskjard may be on the move now,” said Callimachus. “At this very moment his forces may be moving east on the river.”

“Policrates is expecting their arrival,” I said. “That I know. Indeed, it is that which gave plausibility to my plan.”

“The chain will stop them,” said Callisthenes. “The chain must stop them!”

“I must return immediately to Port Cos,” said Glyco. “Voskjard must be met at the chain.”

We rose, all, to our feet.

“But what of the stronghold of Policrates?” I asked. “Would you leave such an enemy at your back?”

“It would take ten thousand men to storm that stronghold,” said Callisthenes.

“Five hundred, entered, through the sea gate, could take it,” I said.

“Your plan is the plan of a fool,” said Callisthenes.

“I have been within the stronghold,” I said. “I know it. I tell you it could be so taken.”

“I will not risk a large number of men in this,” said Callisthenes, “but I will tell you what I might do. I will give you twenty men, if so many will volunteer, and if Aemilianus, of Ar’s Station, will similarly supply another twenty. Then, if, truly, you can enter the sea gate, and can hold it, set a beacon at the gate. We can then send supporting forces through the narrow waters to the wall. I have some two hundred men in Victoria and Aemilianus, as my intelligence sources indicate, a comparable number.”

“There will be presumably some four or five hundred men in the holding,” I said. “You would ask some forty men to stand against them, holding the sea gate for perhaps two Ahn?”

“Surely,” said Callisthenes.

“It is not just the sea gate,” I said, “and the wall near it, and the tower housing the windlass, but the walks about the walled cove within, and the entry to the main stronghold.”

“It would be difficult,” said Callisthenes.

“Our men would be spread too thinly, Jason,” said Callimachus. “You must forget the matter.”

“It is sometimes surprising,” said Callisthenes, regarding me, smiling, “what a few men, determined and skilled, can accomplish.”

“Ragnar Voskjard,” I said, “would come with a fleet, not one or two ships, and forty men.”

“Empty grain slips, towed, their identity concealed in the darkness, might suggest such a fleet,” mused Callisthenes.

“Accept his plan in its plausible form, my friend, Callisthenes, or let us put it entirely from our minds,” said Callimachus.

“Yes,” said Glyco.

“That is doubtless best,” agreed Callisthenes.

“I am willing to try it,” I said.

“I thought you would be,” said Callisthenes.

“What chances do you think we might have?” I asked Callimachus.

He smiled, wryly. “One or two,” he guessed, “perhaps one or two, in a thousand.”

“Surprise would be on our side,” I pointed out.

“Support would not be immediately at hand,” said Callimachus.

“The portals and walks to be defended are sufficiently narrow,” I said earnestly.

“And many in number,” said Callimachus. “Too, there may be circuitous passages, secret, of which you are unaware. In this event you might be easily outflanked.”

I thought of the slave, she who had once been Miss Beverly Henderson.

“Give me twenty men,” I said to Callisthenes.

“I think I can supply you with twenty volunteers,” he said.

I looked to Aemilianus.

“If Port Cos can give you twenty men for such a venture,” said Aemilianus, “Ar’s Station, surely, could supply no smaller a number.”

“It is now foolishness, and madness, Jason,” said Callimachus. “Do not embark upon so mad a venture.”

“You need not come, my friend,” I said.

“I shall accompany you, of course,” said Callimachus.

We were now beneath the high, dark walls of the stronghold of Policrates. I could see them rearing some hundred feet above us.

We nosed toward the sea gate, our oars scarcely entering the water.

I could see a lamp lit on a wall, more than three hundred feet within, inside the sea gate. The sea gate itself was fifty feet in height, large enough, when the barred latticework was lifted, to accommodate a masted cargo galley. It was reinforced on two sides with keep-like towers. The tower on the right, as I faced the gate, housed the windlass which lifted and lowered the gate. It was turned by prisoners and slaves, chained to its bars, but these men, without the assistance of the gigantic counterweights, also within the tower, could not have moved it.

“Who is there?” called a man from the wall.

“Step back,” I said to Callimachus. “You might be recognized.”

I then stood alone on the foredeck of the galley. I climbed to the foot of the prow and stood there, my left arm about the prow. I wore the mask I had worn when I had pretended to be the courier of Ragnar Voskjard.

“Who is there?” repeated the man.

“I am the courier of Ragnar Voskjard!” I called. “We are sent ahead, the scout ships of his fleet!” we had only four ships with us, and three were, substantially, empty. Tasdron had arranged them in Victoria, on the pretense of fetching a consignment of Sa-Tarna from Siba, to be brought to the Brewery of Lucian, near Fina, east of Victoria, with which brewery he occasionally did business.