John Norman - Mariners of Gor

“Yes,” I said. “That of Jad, on Cos.”

“I thought he was Cosian,” snarled Seremides. “Cosians cannot be trusted. They are treacherous, and deceitful. Let us kill him.”

“Several from Cos are numbered amongst our mercenaries,” said Lord Nishida.

Certainly I had heard accents of Cos on the galley which had picked me up.

“What was your ship, and its purpose?” asked Lord Nishida.

“The Metioche ,” I said. “Long ship, light galley, out of Telnus, ten oars, single-masted, guard ship, patrol ship. You destroyed her.”

“She pursued us, she crossed our path,” said Lord Nishida.

“Too,” said Seremides, “we were attacked, flaming javelins launched against us.”

Fire at sea, as noted, is a great danger.

“Even an ost,” I said, “trodden upon, will strike.”

“You pursued us,” said Lord Nishida.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“An ost,” said Lord Nishida, “is not well advised to pursue the great hith, against which its poison is useless.”

This is not as surprising as it might seem, as the poison of the ost, as that of many poisonous snakes, is prey-selective, deadly against warm-blooded animals, such as tiny urts, its customary prey, or even larger animals, such as verr and tabuk, but harmless to other snakes, to certain forms of tharlarion, and such.

“It is true,” I said.

“He is an enemy,” said Seremides, “self-confessed, who pursued and attacked us, a scion of vengeful, hostile Cos. He is dangerous. He may incite mutiny. Kill him, and be done with him.”

“Shall we kill you?” asked Lord Nishida.

“That decision is yours,” I said.

Lord Okimoto nodded his head. Seremides clenched his fists.

“Why was I picked up?” I asked.

“Is it not obvious?” asked Lord Nishida.

“The fellowship of the sea?” I said.

“If you had been rescued by another,” said Lord Nishida, “say, a galley of Tyros, it is our speculation that a dozen ships, within days, in the vicinity of the farther islands, would have sought us, to our inconvenience and distraction.”

“Were others of the Metioche brought aboard?” I asked.

“No,” said Lord Nishida.

“I was the only survivor?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Lord Nishida.

I found this hard to believe. I would learn later, however, that there was a simple explanation for this seeming anomaly.

“You are hence to the farther islands?” I asked.

“Beyond them,” said Lord Nishida.

“There is nothing beyond them,” I said, “only the end of the world.”

“If the world had an edge,” said Lord Nishida, “would not Thassa have drained away, falling into the void?”

“Perhaps there is a wall,” I said.

“Perhaps,” he smiled.

“None return from beyond the farther islands,” I said.

“You are familiar with the slave, Alcinoe?” asked Lord Nishida.

“Yes,” I said. To be sure, I had seen her but once, when she had brought me broth. My food and drink, thereafter, had been attended to by guards.

“She claimed you raped her,” said Lord Nishida.

“Was her body examined?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Lord Nishida. “Have no fear. She was well lashed.”

“Excellent,” I said.

“She hates you,” said Lord Nishida.

“Excellent,” I said. “It is then all the more pleasant to have them crawling to you, the whip borne in their teeth.”

“She has been given lower duties,” said Lord Nishida. “The scrubbing of decks, naked, and in chains, such things.”

“Excellent,” I said.

Such things are useful in the training of a slave.

“Our physicians have determined,” said Lord Nishida, “that after her sojourn in your cell, she is almost ready to be put on the block.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“She was recently a free woman,” said Lord Nishida.

“Oh?” I said.

“Now, it seems,” he said, “she has begun to fear radical changes in her very being, changes she is not capable of resisting, changes such that a free woman may be replaced by a slave.”

“She is a slave,” I said.

“To her consternation and terror,” said Lord Nishida, “it seems that she has begun to sense what it might be to have slave fires in her belly.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“They have been lit,” said Lord Nishida.

“I scarcely touched her,” I said.

“The flames are tiny now,” said Lord Nishida, “but they will doubtless grow.”

“That is common,” I said.

“She will, of course,” said Lord Nishida, “fear them, and fight them, with all weapons of her pride and will.”

“Of course,” I said.

That battle, of course, once the fires have begun, cannot be won. Sooner of later the free woman is transformed into a needful slave, a submitted, begging, belonging of men.

And, interestingly, it is a battle the woman does not want, truly, to win. Indeed her victory as a female lies in her utter and unconditional defeat as a contestant in that unnatural, strange war. She cannot be whole and fulfilled until she is true to the core of her being, that of lying at the feet of her master.

“I have seen this Alcinoe,” said Seremides. “She looks well in her collar. Perhaps she might be given to me.”

“Perhaps,” said Lord Nishida.

That, I thought, would be the end of a slave.

“If,” said I, “you feared survivors, who might warn those of Tyros or Cos of your presence, why did you not simply slay me, and cast me over the side of the galley?”

“Do you think we are pirates?” asked Lord Nishida.

“Yes,” I said.

To be sure, the vessel itself would seem an impractical corsair, but I knew she sheltered at least one nested galley, which might plausibly exercise the dark vocation of the low, green ships.

“Kill him,” said Seremides.

“Are you prepared to deny your Home Stone?” asked Lord Nishida.

“No,” I said.

“Kill him,” said Seremides.

“Have you anything of interest or importance to impart to us,” asked Lord Nishida.

“I fear not,” I said.

“No information as to ships and schedules, patrols, or such?”

“Ours,” I said, “was the last patrol of the season. Thassa grows cold, and angry. I advise you to turn about and lay to port, if you have a port. This is no time to tempt the indulgence of Priest-Kings, no time to tempt the season, or the patience of Thassa. A galley of Tyros was to rendezvous with us, but that was days ago, and, if you are sailing to the farther islands, much to the east. The absence of the Metioche , of course, will be noted, and doubtless galleys will leave Telnus, searching for her, or her wreckage.”

“But that, too, will be far to the east,” said Lord Nishida.

“Yes,” I said.

“He is useless to us,” said Seremides. He had slipped his short blade from its sheath. It had been a lovely draw, silent, and smooth. I had not noticed the draw until it was completed, the blade free of its housing. A distraction is involved. One looks to the side and the gaze of others is likely to follow this line, whilst the hand, meanwhile, unnoted, draws the blade. I wondered if Seremides had once trained with the Assassins.

“Return your serpent to its lair,” said the tarnsman, not requesting permission to speak. I was reassured that there was no good feeling, obviously, between Seremides and the tarnsman.

Seremides looked to Lord Okimoto, who nodded. The blade snapped back into the sheath, angrily.

“Do you know weapons?” inquired Lord Nishida.

“I was first spear,” I said, “of a squad of nine.”

“It is my understanding,” said Lord Nishida, “that Cos is imperialistic.”