We looked at one another.
Arn was furious.
“Reconnoiter,” I told two men, “and swiftly, and well.”
The men and Arn, looked at one another, apprehensively. They had only then realized, with full awareness, that we ourselves were now penned within the stockade, which might now serve as the same trap for us as it might have served before for panther girls.
The two men swiftly went out to scan the surrounding forest.
I did not think that panther girls laid in wait outside, for we had made a careful examination of the area before we had entered the stockade. Still, I did not wish to take the chance that we might have missed them, or, even, that they might have withdrawn before our examination of the area, intending to return when we might be within the stockade. The most likely hypothesis was that they, unaware of our presence in the vicinity, had, on business of their own, left the stockade before dawn. They might have attacks, or hunts, of their own to attend to. Perhaps they had learned of the advance of the girls of Hura toward their territory and had gone out to make reconnaissance, or oppose them. Perhaps they were lying in ambush, pasangs away, for a party of Hura or Marlenus, or for other reasons, had decided to abandon their camp?
I looked about. No, there was too much left. And there was no indication of hurried flight.
I saw spears about, and bundles of arrows.
Panther girls would not have left them. They would return.
One of the two men I had sent out to reconnoiter reentered the hut. “There is no sign of panther girls,” he said.
Arn and his men breathed with relief.
“They will return,” I said.
“What shall we do now?” asked Arn.
“Do not yet roll the sleen nets,” I smiled.
He looked at us.
“Let us sit down and take council,” I suggested.
Two men posted as sentries in the forest, we sat down in one of the huts. “They will probably return before dark,” said Arn.
“Perhaps sooner,” said one of his men.
“We do not know what direction they will come,” said another.
“We do not know,” said Arn, “that they will return to this place.”
The men grunted in agreement.
One of the men, glancing about the hut, said, “Ka-la-ma!” He pointed to a side of the hut.
He went to them and looked at them, lifting them. They were in dark bottles. He turned them about. “From the vineyards of Ar,” he whistled. It was choice Ka-la- na.
“The panther girls were fortunate in their spoils,” said one of my men, to me. “Put them down,” I said. Reluctantly the man did so.
“Shall we return at dawn tomorrow?” asked one of my men, to me.
“Perhaps,” I said. I did not care, however, to lose the time. I did not know how long it would take for Hura, and he band, to reach our area of the forests. Besides, what if Verna and her band returned tonight, and then, again, departed before dawn tomorrow? “I have a better suggestion,” said Arn.
“You wish to remain in the camp,” I said, “concealed, and surprise them upon their return.” “Yes,” said Arn.
Several of the men looked at one another with pleasure. That would be delicious sport.
We would await them, with nets, in their own camp. Then, when they had tied shut the gate behind them, we would leap forth and take them, within their own stockade.
“That is a splendid plan!” said one of Arn’s me.
The other nodded their agreement.
They looked at me. I did not wish to lose the time for another, perhaps futile, dawn attack. Further, we did not know from whence the panther girls might return. This would make it difficult to ambush them deeper in the forest. And one might, in such an attempt, outside the stockade, lose several of the girls. They would not expect to be ambushed in their own camp. They would not be on their guard. They would be, by their own walls, unable to escape, entrapped. I nodded. “We shall wait in the camp,” I said.
“Good!” said Arn.
The man, one of Arn’s, who had seen the Ka-la-na by the wall, crawled over to it. He pulled the bottles into his lap, and began to work at the cork of one of them.
I looked at Arn.
“Do not become drunk,” said Arn to the man.
“I shall not,” he said. With his sleen knife he had pried the cork up a bit from the bottle. He then, slowly, with his fingers and teeth, managed to withdraw the cork.
“Later,” I said.
He looked at Arn, and Arn nodded. The man, irritably, thrust back the cork in the bottle.
“What if they do not return today?” asked a man.
I shrugged. “Then they do not return today,” I said.
“They will return by nightfall,” said Arn.
It was now late in the afternoon. We had eaten some foods we had brought with us, in our pouches, and, too, taken some food, bread and dried meat, which we had found in the huts.
I glanced out of the hut, at the sun.
The day was long. The day was hot.
I returned to the hut, and sat down.
Arn was chewing on a piece of dry Sa-Tarna bread. He washed it down with a swallow from his flask, filled earlier at the nearby stream. We had changed he guard twice in the forest.
“Panther girls,” said one of Arn’s men, “commonly return to their camp near dusk.” “That will be more than two Ahn,” grumbled another man.
“It is time to change the guard again,” said one of my men. He, and one of his fellows, rose to their feet.
“I”, said Arn, grimacing, “have not, for more than a year, tasted Ka-la-na from Ar.” “Nor I,” said one of his men.
It was indeed choice Ka-la-na. My mind, more than once, had wandered to it. “Captain,” said one of my men.
“Very well,” I said. The panther girls, in all probability, would not return for another Ahn or two.
The fellow who had removed the cork from the bottle was first to it, and again, withdrew the cork.
He threw it to his lips and threw back his head.
I took the bottle from him.
“That is enough,” I said.
“It is good!” he said.
“We shall open only this bottle,” I said. “The others we may enjoy later.” They would not become drunk. One bottle of Ka-la-na among ten men is nothing. Ka-la-na is not paga or the strong beer of the north.
I did not, on the other hand, want the entire stock of Ka-la-na emptied. Our project must not be jeopardized.
The two men, men of mine, who were going forth to relieve the guard, had their swallows from the bottle. They had left. Arn, then took the bottle and drank from it, his head back, swiftly.
“Enough,” I said.
The men, his and mine, passed the bottle about. In a short time the two men who had been relieved of guard duty in the forest re-entered the hut. They, too, had their Ka-la-na. There was little left.
“Captain,” said one of my men, handing me the bottle.
I put back my head and finished it. It was bitter, the dregs. Bit it had in it the warmth and flash of the fine Ka-la-na. The vineyards of Ar, as those of Cos, were among the finest on all Gor.
I went again to the entrance to the hut, and once more looked out.
The sun was lower, but it was still bright and warm. Heat, soft and still, hung among the branches and leaves.
It was more than an Ahn until dusk.
I turned to re-enter the hut. At the threshold I stumbled. My hand clutched the jamb.
“We are fools!” I cried.
Arn looked up at me, blinking. The man who had opened the bottle of Ka-la-na, he who had first drunk, and most deeply, lay at one side of the hut, his knees drawn up to his stomach. “Get him!” I said, “and run! Run!” The men stumbled to their feet, unsteadily. Two of them tried to lift the man who was lying at the side of the hut. “I can’t see!” screamed one of the men. Arn climbed to his feet, and then fell to his hands and knees, his head down. “Run!” I screamed to them. “Run!” We fled, stumbling, falling, from the hut. To one side, behind me and to the left, I saw a net, swift and white, heavily corded, weighted, drop over a man. I heard the shouts of panther girls.
Holding Arn, stumbling, by the arm, I ran toward the gate.
Trying to clear my vision, I felt, suddenly, the sharp job of one spear, and then another. I reeled unsteadily. I shook my head. There was blood at my chest and stomach. “Back!” I heard. “Back!” at the gate there were four panther girls, thrusting with spears, held in their two hands, prodding us back. Arn fell to his knees. I lifted him, and turned back toward the hut. I fell once, and then struggled again to my feet. Half-carrying Arn I regained the darkness of the hut. I groped for my bow. I shook my head. I must not lose consciousness. Arn fell to his hands and knees, dazed. I found a black temwood arrow, a sheaf arrow, and fitted it unsteadily to the string of the
