Swordsmen of Gor (45 page)

“War!” I cried, and gestured downward, toward the plaza of training. The sky was ours, the ground was not.

With a laugh Torgus then, with a declination of his lance, followed by that of his bannerman, followed by the twenty, in its four prides, in its ranks, that twenty which was his personal guard, swooped downward to join the fray below.

Oddly, some of the invaders about the camp seemed unaware of the catastrophies that had overcome so many of their fellows.

This sort of thing, however, is not unknown in combat. Often one thinks a battle is won because one is successful in one’s own narrow corridor, on one’s own plot of ground, while a few hectares away it has been overwhelmingly lost. It is often difficult to know what is happening anywhere but where one is at the moment. A skirmish can be won and a battle lost, and a battle can be won while a war is lost. The weathers of war are not only difficult to predict, but are often, and sometimes for days, difficult to ascertain. The tale of the past is often told only in the future.

Looking downward I saw a swooping, riderless tarn seize a fellow in its talons and beat its way upward. Commonly the tarn strike breaks the back of the verr or tabuk, and then it begins to feed, while the animal is still alive. Sometimes it seizes the animal, carries it to a height, and then releases it, and then descends to feed. To one side I heard a long, wailing cry and saw a fellow dropped from some two or three hundred feet to the ground below, the riderless tarn, reverted without its rider, then descending to feed. Elsewhere another riderless tarn was pinning a fellow to the earth with one taloned foot, and striking at him with its beak. Then it had an arm loose and the ground about, to thrashing and screaming, was muddied with blood. Some of our tarns, most perhaps, had been captured in the wild. Lord Nishida, in his attempts to conceal his project, or to at least reduce a cognition of its extent, had wished to avoid any unusually large purchase of domestic tarns. There were many free now, however, on the plaza of training. Some of my men, dismounted, apparently oblivious of the fact that elsewhere fighting might still be raging, were gathering them in.

Chapter Eighteen

FIGHTING CONTINUES;

WE REPORT TO LORD NISHIDA;

THE STABLE

I brought the tarn down, to the field of training, followed by Tajima and Pertinax, and Ichiro, my first, or lead, signalman.

Shortly afterward Torgus, with his bannerman and guard, alit, and Lysander, too, with his bannerman and first twenty.

My major officers were then with me.

We had perhaps a century of men either on the ground or in the air, in the vicinity. Several were doubtless still in pursuit of fugitives.

“We are victorious!” cried Torgus, pleased, dismounted, holding the reins of his tarn.

“Swords still cross,” I informed him, looking about.

Smoke rolled upward from the housing area, from beyond the narrow track which led to the Plaza of Training.

“Let them come to us!” laughed Torgus, sweeping an arm back, indicating the crowded plaza.

Tarns screamed. Dust swirled, raised by war and the beating wings of tarns, the gigantic, monstrous saddle birds of Gor. Here and there my fellows were still at their work. Enemies spun about, encircled, fenced by lances, thence to be pierced by arrows. I saw an Anangan dart lodge itself in a fellow’s throat, who tried to pull it free, and, blood bursting from the neck, he sprawled into the dust, the vessel of the artery exposed, as it had caught behind the point of the dart, which point is broad, and barbed. In two or three places men fought, interestingly, with blades. I saw one fellow’s spine severed as he tried to mount the saddle ladder of an unguarded tarn. There was shouting. Some tarns were being led away by my men, to be secured in our cots.

“They will,” said Tajima.

As the tarns of the dismounted enemy were on the plaza of training, and we now held that ground, they had no access to the tarns without challenging us. Some were now coming down the track which led from the housing area to the training area, burdened with loot, some leading bound, leashed, female slaves. Muchly were they then dismayed to realize the training area was occupied. Several understood their peril and abandoned their loot, and slaves, and, drawing their weapons, hurried toward the waiting birds. Here, however, my men, now well outnumbering their foe, withdrew before them, if on foot, only to circle them, suddenly, like pack sleen, and fire arrows into backs or sides, whatever area might be clear of the shield. Some had recourse to the lances, to fend them back, while others used their bows or Anangan darts. It was much like the tactics of the air, but employed upon the ground. Engage, if possible, only when it is to your advantage, I had cautioned them. When charged they melted away only to reform again in a circle of death, where the turning warrior, confused and frightened, could defend himself on only one side. Few of our fellows could have stood up singly to such an enemy but, like harrying pack sleen, could easily deal severally with him. Too, some of our fellows, still on tarnback, their tarns on the ground, used their arrows to advantage. If approached, they merely pulled on the one-strap and hovered in the air, to fire further. Some other strikes were made from the air with the temwood lances.

“Cowards! Cowards!” cried one of the warriors, turning about, wildly. But then he fell, pierced by a dozen arrows.

He who would throw himself into the jaws of a larl may not be a coward, but he is surely a fool.

Some of the enemy then turned about, to flee back to the shelter of the trees and, momentarily, the housing area. Few reached the track, even backing away. Others fled into the forest, beyond the wands. I heard the roar of larls, and screams, from north of the track.

I would keep men on the field, for I was not sure of the number of enemies that might be left in the area.

There were many bodies about, the debris of war, distributed in accord with a fray’s whims. Few were in our gray.

The foe, it seemed, had not fared well, neither in the sky nor, as far as I could determine, on the ground.

“There are no prisoners?” I asked a fellow, one of the Pani.

“No,” he said.

I thought no more of this at the time.

I called to my side Tajima and Pertinax, and some dozen or so mercenaries, who well knew the sword.

“I suspect there is work to be done,” I said.

“I think so,” said Tajima.

“You are learning the blade,” I said to Pertinax. “Are you ready to use it?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Truly?” I asked, regarding him closely.

“I think so,” he said.

“Bucklers and blades,” I said to the mercenaries.

I secured my own buckler from the saddle.

“You, too, buckler and blade,” I said to Tajima and Pertinax. It is true the blade may be used for both offense and defense, but I would not trust it against a flighted quarrel.

“Nodachi,” said Tajima, “could deflect a quarrel with the blade of even a companion sword.”

“And do you possess his skills?” I asked.

“No,” said Tajima.

“Fetch your buckler,” I said to him.

“Yes, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” he said.

The edged buckler, of course, as in the arena, is an offensive weapon, as well as a defensive one.

I put Torgus in command.

“We will report to Lord Nishida,” I said to Tajima.

“It is well,” he said.

At that moment, running toward us, then stopping short, was one of the enemy.

“Please, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima, politely, “may I have him?”

“Yes,” I said. And then I said to Pertinax, “observe.”

It was done very quickly.

“Do not do swords with Tajima,” I said to Pertinax.

“He despises me,” said Pertinax.

“No,” I said, “for as of this afternoon you have ridden together.”

“We are rivals,” said Pertinax.

“Are you interested in Sumomo?” I asked.

“Who is Sumomo?” he asked.

“You are not rivals,” I assured him.

“My skills increase,” said Pertinax.

“Good,” I said. “See that they are employed properly.”

I then, with some dozen or so men, mercenaries, together with Tajima and Pertinax, addressed myself to the path which led to the housing area. We had not been on the track for more than a handful of Ihn, however, moving rapidly but circumspectly, lest crossbowmen be about, when we heard shouts before us, and we saw some dozen or so of the Pani
Ashigaru
, with their glaives, approaching.

“It seems we will not need our blades,” said Tajima.

“Resistance is at an end,” said one of my fellows.

“The camp is clear,” said another.

“Do not be certain of that,” I said. I conjectured that enclaves of war might linger. More dangerous would be foes who were unseen, who, frenzied, and terrified, might be here and there, in hiding.

Then we had come to the housing area.

“I would see if Sumomo is alive,” said Tajima.

“You are dismissed,” I informed my pantherine associate, and he bowed, briefly, and hurried away, toward the area of Lord Nishida’s still-burning pavilion.

I anticipated no resistance in the open areas.

I saw some Pani about. Some had heads fastened at their belt.

I saw no prisoners.

I heard a scream from within one of the huts about the periphery.

“Should we not concern ourselves with Cecily and Jane?” asked Pertinax.

“You mean Saru, do you not?” I asked.

“With slaves,” said Pertinax.

“War is first,” I told him.

“Duty?” he said.

“Certainly,” I said. “But do not fear for them. Female slaves are not slain, no more than verr or kaiila.”

“They are animals?” said Pertinax.

“Yes,” I said, “and the sooner you learn that then you will relate to them the more appropriately.”

“As animals?”

“Of course,” I said, “as the lovely animals they are.”

“Speaking, feeling animals?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “the best sort.”

“What if they were free?” he asked.

“Then they would be priceless,” I said.

“Then one might concern oneself?” he asked.

“Eventually,” I said.

“But war, duty, is first,” he said.

“Certainly,” I said. “But remember that even the free woman is only a woman.”

“I see,” he said.

“Do not fear,” I said. “Only the insane would kill a woman. There are better things to do with a woman than kill her.”

“What?” he asked.

“Capture, collar, and master her,” I said.

“I see,” he said.

“In the collar,” I said, “they learn they are women.”

“And what is a woman?” he asked.

“A slave,” I said, “though not all are in collars.”

“All women are slaves?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “though not all are in collars.”

I thought of a high woman, one who was, or had been, the daughter of a Ubar. I recalled her from the Plaza of Tarns, in conquered Ar, where she, a traitress, had been installed as a puppet Ubara. I had watched her consign woman after woman as booty to the victors, though under the guise of an allegedly reparational bondage, an act of justice, to compensate for the faults and crimes of her city, in this carefully selecting out, amongst others, her critics or enemies, such as the beautiful Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, the daughter of a former administrator of Ar. How imperiously she had reveled in that modicum of power accorded to her by the occupational forces of Tyros and Cos!

To one side a group of Pani were considering a hut. The door had been shut, and, I supposed, blocked from the inside.

In the midst of the Pani before the hut was a figure who wore a large, masklike helmet, whose features could not be discerned. Most of the Pani helmets, on the other hand, were open, though winged, that is, were rimmed to the sides and back, with something like a descending metal brim. They, like Gorean warriors, wore no visible body armor, as this defensive device was contrary to the rulings of Priest-Kings. I have never understood, perfectly, why this was so, but there are two major theories, which I might mention. The first theory would seem to presuppose a historical origin, though perhaps one rather idiosyncratic. In ancient times, on Earth, surely in the Homeric era, at least, it seems the defensive accouterments of the warrior often consisted of a helmet and shield, and the offensive accouterments of a sword and spear. Body armor was rare, and doubtless expensive, and, it seems, many warriors, even by preference, went into battle nude, save for helmet and shield. One gathers this from ancient sculpture, if from no other source. The most likely explanation for this, if it is true, as it seems to be, would presumably be to lighten and free the body to the greatest extent possible for great exertion and quick movement. Even much later Gauls encountered by Caesar’s legions, at least occasionally, seem to have gone into battle with little but a golden neck band, these being prized as loot by victorious legionnaires. One supposes that some warriors might have supposed, as well, that their foes might have been intimidated by their scorn for body armor, or perhaps they regarded, interestingly, body armor as effeminate or unworthy a courageous warrior, who should not fear wounding or death. Perhaps even vanity or preening entered into such matters. It is hard to know. In any event, body armor, in time, became rather general in warfare on Earth. Its use declined with the widely spread utilization of gunpowder, particularly as its quality improved, and advances were made in connection with its packaging and delivery, cartridges, rifled barrels, and such. For example, in two major wars on Earth in the Twentieth Century, body armor was generally unknown, with the exception of the helmet. Later, with new developments in metallurgy, moving toward lightness and strength, it became, once more, rather general, at least where it might be affordable. There are often “arms races,” so to speak, in such matters, in which an improvement in offense spurs an improvement in defense, and so on. In any event, the historical explanation, for what it is worth, is that Priest-Kings arranged their laws in such matters based on indulgently codifying what they took to be current human practices in such matters. Few Gorean warriors, incidentally, go into battle nude, but male nudity is not as uncommon on Gor as it is on Earth. For example, it is not unknown for Gorean laborers, if engaged in heavy work on hot days, and so on, to work nude. Most people do not think much about this, one way or another. The human body, on Gor, is not regarded as shameful. Even Gorean women of high caste, who are commonly robed and veiled in public, do not regard bodies as shameful. That would be absurd for a Gorean. They do, however, usually, regard their bodies as special and provocative, and exquisitely private, and certainly not for public viewing. The Gorean free woman then does not think of her body as something to be hidden for reasons of shame but as something to be hidden for reasons of propriety. As is well known the usual Gorean free woman is more concerned with the concealment of her facial features than her body. Her face is much more revealing of herself than her body. It might be noted, in passing, that the face of the female slave must be bared publicly. This is a difference between her and the free woman. Anyone may look upon the face of a female slave with impunity, as much as upon a verr or kaiila. She is, of course, enslaved, an animal. Also, she is usually garbed briefly and provocatively. This is, I suppose, not only to distinguish her, and dramatically, from the free woman, with whom she must not be confused, but because she is usually owned by men, and men enjoy seeing the beauty of women. Also, it is difficult to conceal weapons in a slave tunic. Indeed, the slave herself is scarcely concealed.