vicinity of the Alexandra. The waters are too cold. I had seen many bales of cloth brought aboard, and assorted boxes of various descriptions. I supposed there would be silver and gold, but I was not sure of the value, if any, of these commodities should our voyage succeed in reaching its projected terminus, wherever that might be. There were naval stores, too, lumber, tars, resins, and such, in abundance, and additional canvas. Sometimes sails are shredded in high winds, even carried away, with snapped masts. Much oil was brought aboard, not so much for the ship’s lamps, but for a substance with which to fill clay vessels, with wire handles, of which there were hundreds. These would constitute fire bombs which might be flung from tarnback or launched from catapults. These would be devastating at sea, as on the 25th of Se’Kara, and perhaps effective against tents and wooden buildings, but I feared they would not seriously discommode an infantry. The shield roof in an infantry is usually proof enough against even the arrows and missiles of tarn attack, but the tarn attack is commonly coordinated with an infantry advance. Clearly the shield cannot be used simultaneously to defend one both from the air and the ground. Catapult stones, too, were brought aboard, in hundreds, and “heavy arrows,” almost spears, which might be sped either singly, as from
The paga girl, or paga slave, is a well-known form of slave to Gorean free males. Indeed, many a slave, with an envied private master, had begun her bondage, fresh from the block, in the taverns, no more than another belled slave, summonable to the whips and chains of an alcove, her use accompanying, if one wished, the price of the drink she brings to the table. And, too, of course, many men first found their personal slave in so unlikely a place, little suspecting that the collared beauty, kneeling, head down at the table, serving their paga, one of others, might somehow come to seem special to them. Idly, perhaps as little more than a matter of course, she is ordered, as might be any other, to an alcove. But in the alcove, fastened in her chains, she seems to him interestingly, surprisingly, different from many others. He tests her body and discovers, to his interest, that her responses to his touch are extraordinary, and piteous. With what hope she looks at him and presses her lips to his whip. There seems something special in her responsiveness. He fears she might become of interest to him, and so, finished with her, he spurns her, thrusting her aside with his foot, leaving her behind him, in her chains, unable to follow, in tears. But he finds it difficult to forget her, her startled eyes, the leaping of her body. He recalls the slight sound of her silk, almost inaudible, as she knelt by the table, and how it fell about her, with its diaphanous mockery of concealment, as she preceded him obediently to the alcove. He recalls, in the alcove, how, writhing, she grasped the chain above her wrist rings, how she lifted her body and implored him not to desist in his touch, and, later, the wild jangle of the bells on her ankle as, ungovernedly in his power, she kicked wildly. He patronizes the tavern again, perhaps, and again, and finds she hurries to kneel before him, and take his order. When he dares, he sends her again to the alcove, and perhaps confirms what he had most feared, that she is not merely another slave to him, but that she is muchly different, and that they may have been selected for one another by nature, he as master, she as slave. So, eventually he buys her. She costs him more than he would care to admit to his fellows, but he will make it up, many times over, out of her lovely hide. And it is not such a fearful thing, he later learns, really, to have at his feet one for whom he would die, a love slave, and one who knew him, from his first touch, as her long longed-for love master. And so in the mysterious ways of nature the match is made. One must, of course, be particularly strict with a love slave, severe in her discipline, and such, not hesitating to put her to the whip for her least laxity or failure to fully please, but she would have it no other way, for he is her master.
I had stopped one girl at the foot of the ramp, my finger to her shoulder, who was carrying a number of garments. She stood very straight, and kept her head up, and looked straight ahead. “Slave tunics,” I said. “Yes, Master,” she said. “Proceed,” I said. “Yes, Master,” she said. “Thank you, Master.” I had seen other girls, similarly burdened. These were surely more tunics than were required for our girls. I had similarly examined the burdens, shallow boxes, of two or three fellows, as well, as they would ascend the ramp. These boxes, to my interest, contained an abundance of custodial hardware, coffle chains, siriks, slave bracelets, ankle rings, and such. It was light chaining, such as is used for the chaining of women. I saw more than one fellow ascend the ramp with, strung on a spear, over his shoulder, a large number of dangling slave collars, with their keys wired to them. The collars were sturdy, but light, and comfortable, such as are put on women. Another fellow carried a number of irons, of the sort which are used to brand animals. From these observations I supposed that Lords Nishida and Okimoto might have in mind a disposition for the women of the enemy or, at least, those who pleased their senses. The women of the enemy, of course, become the property of the victors. I noted, incidentally, no such arrangements, heavy chaining or such, prepared for male prisoners. The war, as I recalled from a remark of Lord Nishida in the pavilion of Lord Okimoto, was to the knife, without quarter.
Torgus, Ichiro, Lysander, and others, would be with the cavalry. The birds would be brought aboard later, in some four days, joining us near the mouth of the Alexandra.
On the other side of the ship, larger ports had been opened now, and, on ramps sloping up from the water, the six galleys were being drawn on board, and were being rolled to berths in a lower hold. Similar boarding ports were on the starboard side, which was now near the wharf, lying against its cushions of rolled leather, these to prevent damage to either ship or wharf. In this way, galleys might be nested from either side of the great ship.
Tajima, who was standing beside me, suddenly stepped back, and bowed. I, too, bowed. Lord Okimoto himself was boarding, being borne in a sedan chair by eight Pani, which chair was followed by an entourage of contract women and guards.
After this, Aetius, who seemed to be the fellow in charge of supervising matters, began to marshal and board, in long lines, both Pani and others.
“Four days,” said Tajima. He would be with the cavalry.
“That is our estimate,” I said.
“I understand,” said Tajima.
Much depended on the current, and whether or not the descent of the Alexandra would be without incident. The downriver journey had been sounded with care, but a river is not a bridge, a street, a reliable road of stone, layered in blocks, like a sunken wall, feet into the earth, like the Viktel Aria, leading to Ar, built for millennia. The river is less reliable. Its twists and turns might differ from week to week, even day to day. Floods can extend her shores, and rearrange her depths and course. Droughts can dry and parch her. It is hard to know, to predict, the whims, vagaries, and moods, the surfeits and famines, of a river.
The estimate of four days was from the time it had taken two small boats to reach Thassa.
“Be certain,” I said, “to board the tarns before we are beyond the sight of land.”
“I understand,” he said.
I did not think that Lord Nishida would care to delay his voyage at the mouth of the Alexandra, nor be forced to return.
The tarns had been familiarized, over the past few days, with departing from, and returning to, the quarters prepared for them. Three areas were involved, each on its own deck. The first area was on the first deck below the open deck, and the second and third areas were on the next lower decks. Three ramps were involved, one leading from the third lower deck to the second lower deck, one from the second lower deck to the first lower deck, and one from the first lower deck to the top deck, or open deck, once a great hatch had been rolled back.
Three men passed, lifting their hands in salute, which salute I returned. These were Telarion, Fabius, and Tyrtaios, whom I had met in the tent of Lord Nishida at Tarncamp, the night of the feast. At least one, I had gathered from Lord Nishida, was a spy, and one amongst them, the same or another, was of the Assassins. These three, I had noted, had been present at the pyre a few nights past, which pyre had supposedly been that of the shipwright, Tersites.
“I would you were with the cavalry,” said Tajima.
“Perhaps we will ply the wind road later, together, at sea,” I said.
“Lord Nishida does not trust you,” he said.
“I know,” I said.
Tajima was to command the cavalry in my absence.
As we were speaking, numerous Pani, and mercenaries, were ascending the ramp, boarding.
