John Norman - Guardsman of Gor

“It is quiet,” said Kliomenes, uneasily.

“I had hoped there would be resistance,” said Callisthenes.

“There has never been resistance in Victoria,” said Kliomenes.

“Nor is there now,” said Callisthenes. “The people cower in their houses.”

“But never has it been this quiet,” said Kliomenes.

“And never before,” said Callisthenes, “have the cowards of Victoria had this much reason to be so fearful. Policrates is not pleased with them. When the town is suitably sacked, emptied of anything of interest, he will have it burned to the ground.”

“It will be a valuable lesson to all the towns on the river,” said Kliomenes.

“Yes,” said Callisthenes.

“Let us join Policrates,” said Kliomenes.

“Precede me,” said Callisthenes.

I then heard them, and the rest, leave the side of the moored vessel, moving down the wharf toward the concourse. I sensed, then, that I was alone. In fury, in rage, unobserved, I tore at the ropes. Tears of frustration were in my eyes. Blood ran at my back. I was able to move some inches down the blade, but could not free myself. Again and again, wincing, I tried to pull free.

I could not have struggled in this fashion when under the observation of my captors, of course. I hoped I might be able to loosen the ropes. They were thick, and coarse. They were not binding fiber, designed for the perfect holding of prisoners and slaves, nor chains. Too, they had not been knotted by trained warriors or guardsmen. Too, I was strong. Too, the metal back of the blade, though not sharp, was narrow, and rectangular. I had not been bound to a large, rounded metal ring. I was sure that, given time, I could free myself. Then, angry, miserable, I again hung helplessly on the blade, scarcely moved some inches upon it. I could not free myself. It was hopeless. I was covered with sweat. I had lost blood from the blade at my back. I feared I might bleed to death.

I sobbed in frustration, bound upon the great, curved blade. I had underestimated the skills of my captors. Though the ropes were thick and coarse, they were tight, and well knotted. The pirates had not intended me to escape. Thus, they had tied me well. Such men, I realized, angrily, were experienced in the tying of men, as well as women. Yet they were neither warriors nor guardsmen; they had not used binding fiber; and I was strong. Again I struggled and then, again, ceased struggling, sick, gasping and held.

I had in my struggles, moved my body down some inches on the blade. By lifting my head I could see ahead, painfully, to the concourse. There the pirates, at the edge of the concourse, some hundred yards from the office of the wharf master, set back on the concourse, had gathered, preparatory to their attack on the town. I could see the broad, lateral width of the concourse behind them. It was empty. The docks seemed deserted. Victoria, I then suspected, had been abandoned, left to the wrath of the vengeful reavers of the river.

“Have you a taste, Lads,” called Policrates, “for precious wines and delicate viands?”

“That we have, Captain,” called a man.

“Have you a taste for well-tooled leather and fine cloths?”

“Yes, Captain!” called men.

“Have you a taste for more gold and silver, and jewels, than you know what to do with?” called Policrates.

“Yes, Captain!” called dozens of men.

“Have you a taste for luscious slaves, to train with whips to your pleasure?” demanded Policrates.

“Yes, yes, Captain!” called hundreds of men. I heard weapons unsheathed and clashed. “Yes, Captain! Yes, Captain!” shouted hundreds of men.

“Then, Lads,” cried Policrates, “take Victoria! She is yours!”

Then, at that very instant from atop the frame building housing the office of the wharf master the alarm bar began to ring. I saw a single man on the roof, striking it with a great hammer. It rang again, and again. The pirates turned, startled, puzzled, to regard the source of the sound.

Almost at that very moment, from the seemingly deserted buildings of Victoria, running and screaming, charging, brandishing an incredible assortment of chains, tools and weapons, there issued hundreds of the outraged citizens of Victoria. Archers sprang into view on the roof tops. Showers of arrows sped like dark, linear hail over the heads of the charging citizens, striking into the startled, suddenly reeling, disordered crowds of pirates at the foot of the concourse. But a moment later the charging citizens, like thundering, horned kailiauk, like uncontrolled, maddened, stampeding bosk, pikes and spears leveled, chains flailing, swords flashing, boat hooks, and axes and shovels upraised, struck the dumbfounded, disarrayed throngs of astonished buccaneers.

A cheer rose spontaneously from my throat.

“Fight!” I heard Policrates scream. “Fight!”

I saw a pirate being strangled with a chain. I saw a flailing chain, doubled, tear a pirate’s head half from his body. Shovels slashed down at pirates. Pikes stabbed and cut. Spears thrust. I saw a pirate fall over the body of another pirate, who had been struck with an arrow. An outraged citizen thrust down, driving the vertically mounted point of a boat hook into the fellow’s face. An instant later he had caught another pirate by the neck, with the horizontally mounted hook on the staff and pulled him backward. Another citizen thrust his sword into the fellow’s belly. The archers had now left the roof tops to hurry to the melee, that they might, at point-blank range, pick targets. I saw some five pirates thrust back off the edge of the concourse into the water. An ax split the side of the helmet open of another pirate. Still more citizens were running forth, from buildings, from further down the wharves, with spears and swords.

“On!” I cried. “On for Victoria!”

“Fight! Stand! Fight!” screamed Policrates.

I saw a dozen pirates break and run for their ships.

I struggled on the blade. In a frenzy I tried to free myself. But I could not do so. I was helpless. I had been tied by Gorean men.

A man ran past me, hurrying to the ship.

“Stand, fight!” I heard Policrates screaming. I saw him strike a pirate in the back of the neck with his sword, cutting his head half from his body, who had turned to run. “Stand, fight!” he screamed.

A dozen more pirates, here and there, in their ragged lines, turned about and broke for their ships. Then a dozen more!

“Withdraw!” shouted Policrates. “Back to the ships!”

“Back to the ships!” called Ragnar Voskjard.

“Back to the ships!” called Kliomenes.

“Back to the ships!” called Callisthenes.

Men were now hurrying past me. Some were bloody, and wounded. Swords slashed down at the mooring ropes. I felt the flagship of Policrates shift in the water. Men were fighting on the wharf now. Men behind me, I heard clamber aboard. I did not know whether or not they could board a crew. Policrates himself ran past me, and Kliomenes, and Callisthenes. I heard them leaping to the bulwarks of the ship and clambering aboard. “Poles!” shouted Policrates. “Oars outboard!” I could see the pirate ship to my left, across the wharf, moored on the opposite side, its mooring ropes cut, backing away from the wharf. Then the ship on which I was bound, poles thrusting against the wharf, slid to my right and backward. A pirate running for the ship missed the bow rail and fell into the water. He began to thrash and scream in the water, attacked by eels. I looked down, into the water. Below me the water was swarming with eels. The blood from my back, I realized, running down the blade and dripping into the water, had attracted them.

The wharves, now, were crowded with men. Pirates fell into the water. Others, in the rearward ranks, who could turn, did so, and fled toward the ships. Some ran past me and apparently leaped to oars, trying to hold them and use them to clamber aboard. I heard a man scream, struck, behind me. “Do not encumber the oars!” cried Policrates. I heard a body slide into the water behind me. An outjutting oar struck against the wharf. I heard another body strike the water. Then the ship was out from the wharf. I saw pirates throwing down their weapons, and kneeling on the wharf. There was cheering from the men of Victoria.