Swordsmen of Gor

and also on the left. A free woman, of course, either walks next to a free male, or, in some cities, precedes him, as a mark of her status. This practice also, of course, tends to distinguish her from the slave, a distinction which is of enormous importance in Gorean society. The free woman is a person; the slave is an animal.

Pertinax, however, would have his Jane precede him. I think she well understood that. Masters sometimes like walking behind their briefly tunicked slaves, for the pleasure this affords them. Sometimes the slave’s hands are bound before her body, and fastened closely to her belly by a loop of binding fiber. When the slave precedes the master, of course, she is well aware of the effect that she may be having on him, and she, from her point of view, cannot read his expressions, be certain of his closeness, or of what he will do. This can make her uneasy.

“Do not look back,” said Pertinax.

“Yes, Master,” said Jane.

If she disobeyed, I did not doubt but what Pertinax would use the switch or whip on her.

If the slave disobeys, of course, she has only herself to blame for the consequences of any such disobedience. As a result, the slave seldom disobeys, and is seldom switched or whipped.

All five fellows were now on their feet.

They had not been drinking.

“Wait,” I said to Pertinax.

I then caught the eye of Cecily, and summoned her. She gave her bota of paga to another slave, and hurried to me, where she knelt before me, put her head down, kissed my feet, and then knelt up, looking at me, waiting to see what would be required of her.

The five fellows were now filing from the feasting area. One of them paused at the edge of the torches, and looked back. Our eyes met. He then, with the others, disappeared into the darkness.

“Master?” asked Cecily.

“Pertinax,” I said, “returns to the hut. Accompany him.”

“Surely Master returns, as well?” she said, puzzled.

“No,” I said.

“What is wrong?” said Pertinax.

“I am frightened,” said Cecily, suddenly.

I loosened the sword in my sheath.

The Pani had largely placed their long swords in racks near the edge of the feasting area, but none who bore them had surrendered the companion sword. That blade is to remain at hand. A similar practice I would learn often obtains in houses and barracks amongst the Pani, a practice in which the long sword is often set to one side, stored or racked, in a hall or vestibule, but the companion sword is kept at one’s side, even near the sleeping mats and blocks. To be sure, if danger is felt to be imminent, both weapons are likely to be kept in the vicinity of the warrior.

I saw Saru was to one side.

She was muchly aware of how Pertinax had placed Jane before him. I suspected that she wished it was she who had been so positioned before him, in that position of slave display.

Tears ran down her cheeks.

“Ka-la-na!” called a fellow, and she turned about, and hurried to him, to kneel before him, and replenish his cup.

“Let me come with you,” said Pertinax.

“No,” I said, “get the slaves to the hut. I intend to join you.”

“Something is wrong,” he said.

“It is early for the third watch, is it not?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Come with us, Master!” said Cecily.

“Go,” I said to Pertinax. I then indicated Cecily, angrily. I feared there might be little time. “Take this slave with you,” I said, “and chain her to one of the hut rings, closely, hand and foot.”

“Master!” protested Cecily.

“Do you wish to be ordered to beg on your belly to be switched when I return to the hut?” I asked.

“No, Master!” she said, quickly.

“Go!” I urged Pertinax.

“Move!” said Pertinax to Jane and she hurried amongst the tables, to leave the feasting area. Pertinax followed her, and Cecily, looking back once, frightened, hurried after them. Their exit attracted little attention.

I then moved swiftly from the feasting area.

The five fellows who had left the feasting area had taken their way into the darkness. They had moved purposefully. I had met the eyes of one. He had realized himself seen. There had been no mistaking that. Were they waiting for me in the darkness, it was most likely they would be interposing themselves between me and the center of the camp. Their waiting would cost them time, and gain me time. I would take a roundabout way, and rapidly, to what I supposed to be their destination, which then I might reach before them.

I thought of Licinius, and the attempt he had made on the life of Lord Nishida.

It seemed unlikely the enemy, whomsoever, or whatsoever, it might be, would have placed its entire wager on a single arrow fired from tarnback, would have placed the outcome of a large and bold enterprise on a single cast of the marked stones.

Chapter Twenty-Four

in the tent of lord nishida

Two Ashigaru crossed their glaives, barring my passage.

Another warrior, one of the Pani, unsheathed his long sword, which he gripped with two hands.

The temporary quarters of Lord Nishida was a double tent, pitched not far from the ashes of his pavilion.

Four more Ashigaru appeared, as though from nowhere.

“I must speak with Lord Nishida!” I said. “Is he well? Is he within? There is danger. I bring a warning.”

“Disarm yourself,” said the fellow with the long sword, and I slipped the shoulder scabbard, letting it fall to the ground.

I did not know if Lord Nishida, given his cunning and warcraft, would be within the daimyo‘s tent or not, but it was surely the obvious place to bring my suspicions.

“I would speak with Lord Nishida!” I said.

“He is at ease,” said the fellow with the long sword, whom I took to be the captain of the guard.

“The canvas of a tent may be rent,” I said. “Call him! Disturb him! Is he alive, even now?”

The two Ashigaru who barred my way tightened their grip on the glaives.

“Inform him he is in danger!”

“He is in no danger, now,” said the officer, “for you have been deterred.”

“I?” I said.

“You have come here, uninvited, in the midst of darkness, hastily, armed,” he said.

“An attempt on his life is imminent, I fear,” I said.

“No longer,” said the officer. “Bind him.”

I felt ropes looped about me, pinning my arms to my side.

“I have come to warn you!” I said. “I come on no dark errand!”

Then I was bound.

“Release me!” I said. “I tell you Lord Nishida is in danger!”

“No longer,” said the officer.

“Is that you, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman?” came a voice from inside the double tent, calling out, pleasantly.

“It is he!” I cried, gratefully. “Lord Nishida! He is safe!”

“Now,” said the officer, with satisfaction.

“Yes, now!” I said. “But perhaps not in a moment! Be vigilant!”