Mariners of Gor

“I spoke to a fellow, who spoke to one, lower on the trail,” said Aeacus. “The enemy is moving toward us.”

“In what strength?” I asked.

“I do not think we know,” said Philoctetes.

“It is speculated,” said Aeacus, “that it is between five and seven thousand ashigaru.”

“I would guess,” said Philoctetes, “that the exploratory force encountered little more than its vanguard.”

“We would then, I conjecture,” I said, “be much outnumbered.”

“Yes,” said Aeacus.

I supposed Lord Temmu, who had furnished the hundred Pani who marched with the exploratory force, had some two thousand troops on which he might rely, most housed within the castle grounds. Lords Nishida and Okimoto, as I estimated their warriors, had some three hundred and fifty men. Of armsmen and mariners, I supposed we retained some eleven hundred men, after the apparent debacle of the exploratory force. All in all, as far as I could estimate these things, we must have something less than thirty-five hundred men at arms. Peasants might be impressed as ashigaru, but, I suspected, from what I had seen earlier, many of the local peasants might have left their villages and fields, and withdrawn to the mountains. We did have some one hundred and forty tarns back in the mountains, with their riders and auxiliary personnel. Whatever might be the initial psychological impact of the tarn on those unfamiliar with its form of life, it would be only a matter of time before it became clear to the enemy that the tarn, however formidable, was a natural creature, limited, and mortal, nothing dreadfully mysterious, no unnatural and inexplicable dragon bird, sprung from the clouds, gifted with the ability to blight fields, towns, and armies. Too, whereas a tarn cavalry can acquire intelligence, strike unexpectedly, cut supply lines, and such, it is of limited value against a distributed land force. In this way it differs from the crashing thunder of a tharlarion charge, or the swift attack of kaiila-mounted lancers.

“How close,” asked Tereus of Aeacus, “is the enemy?”

“One gathers,” said Aeacus, “its sighting may be imminent.”

“Not necessarily,” said Turgus.

“How so?” said Aeacus.

“I have learned,” said Turgus, “from Lord Nishida, that this holding can withstand a siege of thousands, and has done so more than once.”

“So?” said Aeacus.

“Thus I see no rush to be upon us,” said Turgus.

“But the enemy is advancing,” said Tereus.

“Yes,” said Turgus.

“We will be penned here,” said Tereus. “Waiting to be stormed, or to die, of thirst or starvation.”

“The castle is equipped, of course,” said Turgus, “with reservoirs, and supplies.”

“We are muchly outnumbered,” said Tereus. “Many will see little to be gained by huddling together in this place, without prospects.”

“We are not Pani,” said Aeacus.

“There is honor to be satisfied,” I said. “Many of these men have taken fee.”

“This is not our war, and not our country,” said Aeacus.

“Fee has been taken,” I said.

“I smell smoke,” said Philoctetes.

“The village,” said Tereus.

He looked across the courtyard, where Seremides, seeing him, quickly, awkwardly, hobbled away.

Tereus’ hand went to the dagger at his belt.

He doubtless remembered Thoas and Andros, and Aeson.

At this point, a Pani crier began to cry out. A set of feasts were to be prepared, served in dozens of rooms, and barracks, and in the courtyard, at long tables, celebrating the victory of the exploratory force. I heard then the roll of drums once more, and the soundings of conch trumpets.

“It seems,” said Turgus, “victory is ours.”

“What victory?” said Philoctetes.

“The return of the exploratory force, some of it,” laughed Tereus, and then he turned away from us.

I watched, to make certain he did not follow Seremides.

“Slaves will serve the feast, will they not?” asked Aeacus.

“One supposes so,” I said.

“They are likely to know nothing of what has occurred,” said Philoctetes.

“They will see it as a victory feast,” said Aeacus.

“I suppose so,” I said.

“I hope they will have tarsk,” said a man.

I hoped that, too, as I was growing weary of rice and parsit. The Pani do raise tarsk, verr, and, of course, vulos.

“Perhaps they will break out paga,” I said.

Some had been brought to the castle from the ship.

“Let us have a good time,” said Turgus.

“Let us commemorate the beginning of a siege,” laughed Aeacus, lifting his hand, as though it held a goblet.

“And,” said a man, “let us celebrate the inviolability of the holding of dear Lord Temmu, and rejoice in our safety and security.”

“Surely we dare not meet the enemy in the field,” said a fellow.

“No,” said Turgus.

“Excellent,” he said. “So we will feast aplenty, and drink apace, whilst the enemy, should he invest this place, may freeze, wither, and starve.”

“How long might a siege last?” asked Aeacus.

“One, I learned from Lord Nishida,” said Turgus, “lasted four years.”

“That would require a great deal of paga,” said a man.

“Learn to savor sake,” said a man.

I looked up to the parapet. I saw the warrior, Nodachi, looking over the parapet, toward the village. He had his two swords with him. After a time, he began to turn about, and perform martial exercises, with a patient, unhurried grace.

Some of the Pani, I supposed, must know who he was, his background, his motivation to join us.

I, however, did not know. And I did not think that even his students, such as Pertinax and Tajima, the Pani tarnsman, understood the mystery of this unusually skilled, but enigmatic warrior.

I looked about. I had not seen Tyrtaios, after he had left the parapet.

This made me uneasy.

“So there will be feasting,” said Aeacus.

“It seems so,” I said.

“To celebrate the triumph of the exploratory force,” he said.

“It seems so,” I said.

“Some,” said Aeacus, “will see things as they are said to be, not as they are.”

“That is common, is it not?”

“I fear so,” said Aeacus.

“So we will feast,” I said.

“Will you sit at the long tables, in the courtyard?” asked Aeacus. “That might be pleasant.”

“Let us fill our plates and lift our goblets privately,” I said. “Let us seek one of the closed places. There are several. I will arrange one. Let it be only the members of the high watch.”

“You have a reason for this?” asked Aeacus.

“More than one,” I said.

“Where shall we meet?” he asked.

“Here,” I said.