6
Schendi
'Do you smell it?' asked Ulafi.
'Yes,' I said. 'It is cinnamon and cloves, is it not?'
'Yes,' said Ulafi, 'and other spices, as well.'
The sun was bright, and there was a good wind astern. The sails were full and the waters of Thassa streamed against the strakes.
It was the fourth morning after the evening conversation which Ulafi and I had had, concerning my putative caste and the transaction in Schendi awaiting the arrival of the blond-haired barbarian.
'How far are we out of Schendi?' I asked.
'Fifty pasangs,' said Ulah.
We could not yet see land.
The two girls, on their hands and knees on the deck, linked together by a gleaming neck chain, some five feet in length, attached to two steel work collars, these fitted over their regular collars, looked up. They, too, could smell the spices, even this far from land. In their right hands, grasped, were deck stones, soft, white stones, rounded, which are used to smooth and sand the boards of the deck. Earlier they had scrubbed and rinsed and, with rags, on their hands and knees, dried the deck. Later, when finished with the deck stones, they would again rinse and, again on their hands and knees, with rags, dry the deck. Had sailors been doing these things they of course, would have dried the deck by simply mopping it down. This was not permitted to the girls, of course. They were slaves. The boards almost sparkled white. Ulafi kept a fine ship. Behind the girls stood Shoka with a whip. He would not hesitate to use it on them, if they shirked. They did not shirk.
'Those are Schendi gulls,' said Ulafi, pointing to birds which circled about the mainmast. 'They nest on land at night.'
'I am pleased,' I said. The trip had been long. I was eager to make landfall in Schendi.
I looked to the girls. Sasi looked up at me, and smiled. The blond-haired barbarian too, had her head lifted. She smelled the spices. She knew we were now in the vicinity of land. She looked up at the birds. She had not seen them before.
Ulafi looked to the blond-haired barbarian. She looked at him, frightened. He pointed upward, at the birds. 'We are approaching Schendi,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' she said. She put her head down, trembling. She, a slave, did not know what awaited her in Schendi.
Shoka, behind the girls, shook out the blades of the slave whip he carried. Quickly both girls, their heads down, returned to their work.
I remained at the rail, on the port side. Soon I could see a brownish stain in the water, mingling and diffusing with the green of Thassa.
I drew a deep breath, relishing the loveliness of the smell of the spices, now stronger than before.
'Half port helm!' called Ulafi to his helmsmen. Slowly the Palms of Schendi swung half to port, and the great yards above the deck, pulleys creaking, lines adjusted by quick sailors, swung almost parallel to the deck. The same wind which had pressed astern now sped us southeastward.
I now regarded again the brownish stains in the water. Still we could not see land. Yet I knew that land must be nigh. Already, though we were still perhaps thirty or forty pasangs at sea, one could see clearly in the water the traces of inland sediments. These would have been washed out to sea from the Kamba and Nyoka rivers. These stains extend for pasangs into Thassa. Closer to shore one could mark clearly the traces of the Kamba to the north and the Nyoka to the south, but, given our present position, we were in the fans of these washes. The Kamba, as I may have mentioned, empties directly into Thassa; the Nyoka, on the other hand, empties into Schendi harbor, which is the harbor of the port of Schendi, its waters only then moving thence to Thassa.
Kamba, incidentally, is an inland word, not Gorean. It means rope. Similarly the word Nyoka means serpent. Ushindi means Victory. Thus Lake Ushindi might be thought of as Lake Victory or Victory Lake. It was named for some victory over two hundred years ago won on its shores. The name of the tiny kingdom or ubarate which had won the victory is no longer remembered. Lake Ngao, which was discovered by Shaba, and named by him, was named for a shield, because of its long, oval shape. The shields in this area tend to have that shape. It is also an inland word, of course. The Ua River is, literally, the Flower River. I have chosen, however, to retain the inland words, as they are those which are commonly used. There are, of course, many languages spoken on Gor, but that language I have called Gorean, in its various dialects, is the lingua franca of the planet. It is spoken most everywhere, except in remote areas. One of these remote areas, of course, is the equatorial interior. The dialects of the Ushindi region I will usually refer to as the inland dialects. To some extent, of course, this is a misnomer, as there are many languages which are spoken in the equatorial interior which would not be intelligible to a native speaker of the Ushindi area. It is useful, however, to have some convenient way of referring to the linguistic modalities of the Ushindi area. Gorean, incidentally, is spoken generally in Schendi. The word Schendi, as nearly as I can determine, has no obvious, direct meaning in itself. It is generally speculated, however, that it is a phonetic corruption of the inland word Ushindi, which, long ago, was apparently used to refer to this general area. In that sense, I suppose, one might think of Schendi, though it has no real meaning of its own, as having.an etiological relationship to a word meaning 'Victory'. The Gorean word for victory is 'Nykus,' which expression seems clearly influenced by 'Nike,' or 'Victory,' in classical Greek. Shaba usually named his discoveries, incidentally, in one or another of the inland dialects. He speaks several fluently, though his native tongue is Gorean, which is spoken standardly in Anango, his island. The inland language, or, better, one of its dialects, is, of course, the language of the court of Bila Huruma, Shaba's patron and supporter.
'Sails ho!' called the lookout. 'Two points off the port bow!'
Men went to the port rail, and Ulafi climbed to the stern castle. I climbed some feet up the knotted rope, dangling by the mainmast, which led to the lookout's platform.
I could not yet see the sails. Ulafi did not put about or change his course.
I braced myself, holding my feet together on one of the knots on the rope. I steadied myself, puffing one arni about the mast.
His men did not rush to the benches, slide back the thole ports or slip the great oars outboard. Sea water was not brought to the deck from over the side. Sand, in buckets, was not brought topside from the ballast in the hold. The first officer, Gudi, did not preside over the issuance of blades and lances.
I felt distinctly uneasy that the masts could not be lowered. How vulnerable seemed the ship, the masts high, with their sloping yards and billowing canvas. There was a light catapult forward, but it had not yet been erected. If Ulafi had torch arrows they were not in evidence. Too, the fire pans had not been kindled for dipping the arrows, nor had a fire been kindled beneath the oil kettle, for filling the clay globes with flaming oil, to be cast in looping trajectories from the catapult forward. If onagri or springals lay unassembled in the hold they were not yet being brought to the deck.
I looked out, past the bow, almost dead ahead. I could now see the sails. I counted eleven of them. The ships were single-masted. They were ramships. Yet I now breathed more easily. Since I, from my lower elevation, a few feet above the deck, by the mainmast, could see their canvas, I knew that their lookouts, from their superior elevations, could see the Palms of Schendi. Yet the ships were not taking in canvas. They were not bringing down their yards and lowering their masts. It might have been, for all its stately progression, a convoy of merchantmen. Yet the ships were single-masted, tarnships, ramships. Too, Ulafi did not seem concerrned about them, or his men. They knew, apparently, what these would be. Perhaps the lookout, already, had made his routine identifications. I, too, now had little doubt what these would be, as it was the northern spring, and we in the waters of Schendi.
'Convey our greetings to the fleet!' called Ulafi from the stern castle, putting down his glass of the builders. Flags, in colorful series, were set at the port stem castle lines.
I lowered myself now to the deck, hand by hand.
I stood near the bow, now on the starboard side. On each side of us, five on one side, six on the other, the
