Mariners of Gor

“Surely,” said Lord Nishida, “you will not put to, and risk a landing.”

“No,” said Lord Okimoto, “not without the signal.”

I did not understand much of this conversation.

I did gather that some uncertainty attached to certain political and military matters.

In a quarter of an Ahn, we began to see more detail abeam, a steep, sandy beach, with hills and trees beyond it.

I estimated we were something like a half pasang offshore. Our course continued north.

That we were closer to shore, whatever might be its advantages or disadvantages, did increase the tension on board, and various crew members, acting as spokesmen for one group or another, from one deck or another, urged minor officers to petition for a landing. More Pani now appeared on deck, armed, as they always were. Lords Nishida and Okimoto had never disarmed their own men. The Pani, of course, were far outnumbered by the armsmen and mariners. Too, I had little doubt but what a number of weapons were concealed about the ship. Certainly several had never been recovered, for placement in the weapon rooms.

I muchly feared disorder.

When night came, we anchored.

I gathered this was a precaution, taken to minimize the chances of missing a possible signal.

It was now the next day, the second day of the sixth month, the day following the first sight of land.

We were still offshore, something like a half pasang, moving north.

As earlier, slaves had been freed of their chains, and many enjoyed the liberty of the deck.

I had seen Iole, Thetis, Alcmene, Pyrrha, Procris, and many others about. I also saw Alcinoe. I did not order her back to her chain. I enjoyed looking at her, in her tunic, the minimal tunic allowed to the Kasra girls. How amusing, I thought, that the former Lady Flavia of Ar should be so clad. To be sure, she did not seem to object, and was, often enough, in my vicinity. These were all ship slaves. Several privately owned slaves, too, were on deck, such as Lord Nishida’s Saru. I also noted Cabot’s Cecily, and Pertinax’s Jane. ‘Jane’ is a barbarian name, like ‘Cecily’, but the woman herself, as I had learned, had had the benefits of civilization. Perhaps she had been given the name because it pleased her barbarian master, or, perhaps, as a punishment, that she would be thought of as, and treated no differently from, a barbarian slave.

I also speculated, as I had before, as to what might be the motivation of allowing so many slaves, mere ship slaves, such liberty.

Lords Nishida and Okimoto had been on the open deck, near the port rail, since the seventh Ahn. Each had at their disposal a glass of the Builders. Each had several guards at hand. I think they remained amidships not only to better monitor the fevers of the day, less accessible from the stem castle or stern castle, but to dispatch their guardsmen in case of need, perhaps to quell some disorder, or batten down hatches, keeping many below decks.

It was my impression, given the increasing restlessness of the men, which might approach the level of danger, given the excitements of the sight of land, that they thought it might be unwise, unless clearly called for, to order a clearing of the deck. We had been nearly a year at sea and the discipline of the armsmen, now that land was near, hung by little more than a thread.

Tyrtaios continued to urge a landing. I suspected he genuinely dreaded another mutiny.

“If a landing is made,” said Lord Okimoto, “all treasure must remain on board.”

“Of course,” said Tyrtaios.

It was my understanding that a dialect of Gorean was spoken at the World’s End, that the Priest-Kings had seen to this. By their mysterious power, and secret sky ships, it seems they had long ago placed Initiates amongst the Pani, perhaps centuries ago, who had taught them Gorean. These Initiates, as the legends went, had sought to exploit their prestige in an attempt to secure power, and had been done away with. The Priest-Kings, on the other hand, by various manifestations of their power, doubtless the Flame Death, and such, had made clear the wisdom of retaining Gorean. It was written however, amongst the Pani, in an unfamiliar script, or set of signs, as it is, as well, I understand, in the Tahari. Whereas a variety of languages are spoken on Gor, Gorean, as you know, is almost universal. The common wisdom on such matters is that the Priest-Kings favor a common language, as a means to more easily communicate their views to humans, for example, with respect to the technology and weapon laws. It is apparently simpler to do this in one language than in several. Linguistic drift, at least on the continent, is managed by the standardization promulgated in scribal conferences held during the great fairs, held four times annually in the vicinity of the Sardar. I recalled that Lord Nishida had asked me, early in the voyage, if I could understand his Gorean. I could, though it was somewhat different. To be sure, there are many dialects of Gorean. I am told I have a Cosian accent, but I am not aware of this, or not much aware of it. But it is doubtless so. Certainly I would not deny it. One is seldom aware of one’s own accent. As Alcinoe suggested, long ago in the cell, is it not the others who always have an accent?

Lord Okimoto clearly feared a mass desertion, particularly if the armsmen and mariners might depart with their packs filled with treasure.

The armsmen and mariners, however, as it later became clear, would not have been well advised to put such plans into effect, at least in the territories at hand.

Slaves, of course, another form of treasure, however desperate they might be to set foot on land, however pathetically they might plead, would remain on board, as well.

I then suspected the motivation for the unprecedented liberty that had of late been accorded to our shapely kajirae. Their display was to incite the interest of the men, and make their desertion less likely. Whereas I had no interest in desertion, had I any, I would not have wished to leave the ship without at least one of its slaves thonged and on my leash, perhaps Alcinoe, though I had no interest in her. To be sure, should I return her to Ar, I might collect a nice bounty on her, for she had once been the Lady Flavia, a traitress, once even the confidante of Talena, the muchly sought, false Ubara. I suspected that there were few slaves on board who had not caught the eye of one or more of the men. Aeacus, for example, I was sure, would not have minded having the lovely Iole squirming in his slave straps. There was something rather deceitful or meretricious in all this, of course, as the Pani had surely not brought these goods across the vast width of turbulent, green Thassa without plans for their disposition. Indeed, save for a brief time early in the voyage, these girls had been kept muchly away from the men, to the later annoyance of the men, and the misery and anguish of many of the slaves, pulling at their chains, tethered in place, their bodies denied the caress of masters, their hearts the ecstasy of the yielded slave.

It was in the late afternoon, shortly past the fifteenth Ahn, when a cry went up and I rushed, with others, to the port rail. Ashore, atop what appeared to be the left side of narrow defile, leading between hills into a wooded area, there was a narrow, ascending trail of reddish smoke. A moment later, near it, another narrow, ascending trail of smoke stood out against the sky, over the defile and woods. The second trail of smoke was yellow.

“Lord Temmu holds the shore,” said Lord Okimoto, his glass of the Builders trained on the streaming smoke.

“His fortress stands,” said Lord Nishida, his own glass trained, as well, on the smoke.

“Put to,” said Lord Okimoto.

This was signaled to Aetius.

We heard anchors rattling. Sails were slackened, and began to be furled.

“Look!” called a man.

“What is the meaning of that?” asked Tyrtaios.

A third spume of smoke rose now toward the sky. This column of smoke was clearly green.

Each of the streamers of smoke was now vanishing, drifting away.

On continental Gor, green is the caste color of the Physicians. I did not know its meaning here.

“Safety,” said Lord Okimoto to Tyrtaios.

A cry of pleasure went up from men gathered about, and the motivation of this cry was quickly broadcast about the ship.

“Let us put forth the galleys, the small boats,” said Tyrtaios.

Tarl Cabot, the tarnsman, commander of the tarn cavalry, had now joined Lords Okimoto and Nishida at the rail. Aetius, who handled the daily management of the ship, was on the stern-castle deck, looking forward.

“I have seen three columns of smoke,” said Tarl Cabot.

“We expected to see a single column,” said Lord Nishida, “that of yellow, which would signify that the castle