seem likely that Cos could indefinitely maintain her power. Her seat of power was overseas and her forces were largely composed of mercenaries who were difficult to control and expensive to maintain. The recent campaigns of Lurius of Jad must have severely drained the treasury of Cos, and perhaps of Tyros, too, her ally. To be sure, her outlays might now be recouped here and there, for example, from conquered Ar. Cos had succeeded in defeating Ar. It was not so clear, I now realized, that she had managed to guarantee and secure her own hegemony indefinitely. Indeed, with Ar vulnerable and helpless, nullified militarily, if the power of Cos should collapse, a new barbarism might ensue, at least within the traditional boundaries of Ar, a lawless barbarism broken here and there by the existence of minor tyrannies, places where armed men imposed their will.
'I do not hear the bars any longer,' said Marcus. 'Nor the crowds.'
'Nor do I,' I said.
It now seemed quiet at the park of the Central Cylinder, save for the sounds of the workmen, striking apart the boards of the platform. Few people, too, were about. Some papers blew across the park, some of them tiny banners of colored paper, banners of both Cos and Ar.
Again I considered the platform. On it Talena had stood, barefoot.
'Look,' I said to Marcus, indicating some of the boards removed from the platform and piled to one side.
'What?' he asked.
'The boards,' I said, 'on their upper surfaces, they are smoothed.'
'And from the reflection of light, sealed,' he said.
'Yes,' I said.
'Doubtless prepared for the feet of the noble Talena,' he said.
'Yes,' I said.
'Unusual solicitation for a penitent or suppliant,' said Marcus.
'Yes,' I granted him.
'But we would not wish to risk her little feet, would we?' Marcus asked Phoebe. 'No, Master,' said Phoebe.
Although Marcus had spoken in irony, Phoebe's response was quite serious, and appropriately so. She did not even begin to put herself in the category of a free woman. An unbridgeable and, to the slave, terrifying chasm separates any free woman on Gor from a slave, such as Phoebe.
'It is regrettable, is it not,' Marcus asked Phoebe, 'that she was forced to appear degradingly unshod?'
'Yes, Master,' said Phoebe, 'for she is a free woman.'
Indeed, I suppose that it had cost Talena much to be seen in public, barefoot. Phoebe, of course, was barefoot. That is common with slaves.
I watched another board being thrown on the pile.
For the most part the platform was held together by wooden pegs, pounded through prepared holes. In this way I supposed it might be easily reassembled. Perhaps there was some intention that it might be used again, perhaps, say, for the coronation of a ubara.
Then the portion of the platform nearest us was down.
I wondered how Talena might look on another sort of platform, say, on an auction platform, stripped and in chains, being bid upon by men. such a surface, would be likely to be quite smooth to her feet, too, presumably having been worn smooth by the bared feet of numerous women before her.
'Let us seek lodging,' said Marcus.
'Very well,' I said.
8 The Wall
'I have had the good fortune to be chosen for wall duty,' said a youth to his fellow.
'I myself volunteered for it,' answered the other.
'Such things are the least we can do,' said the first.
'By means of them Ar will become great,' said the other.
'Not all values are material,' said the first.
'By means of such things we shall visibly demonstrate our love of peace,' said the second.
'Without such things,' said the first, 'our protests of love and brotherhood would be empty.'
'Of course,' said the other.
'I am weary,' said Marcus.
'It is the wagons,' I said.
In Gorean cities it is often the case that many streets, particularly side streets, little more than alleys, are too narrow for wagons. Local deliveries in such areas are usually made by porters or carts. Similarly, because of considerations such as congestion and noise, and perhaps aesthetics, which Goreans take seriously, wagons are not permitted on certain streets, and on many streets only during certain hours, usually at night or in the early morning. Indeed, most deliveries, as of produce from the country, not borne on the backs of animals of peasants, are made at night or in the early morning. This is also often the case with goods leaving the city, such as shipments of pottery and linens.
We were walking in the Metellan district, and then turned east toward the Avenue of Turia. Phoebe was heeling Marcus.
This morning, some Ahn before dawn, a convoy of wagons had rattled past our lodgings in the Metallan district, in the insula of Torbon on Demetrios Street. Our room, like many in an insula, had no window there, overlooking the street. Below, guided here and there by lads, with lanterns, were the wagons. There had been a great many of them. Demetrios Street, like most Gorean streets, like no sidewalks or curbs but sloped gently from both sides to a central gutter. The lads with the lanterns, their light casting dim yellow pools here and there on the walls and paving stones, performed an important function. Without some such illumination it is only too easy to miss a turn or gouge a wall with an axle. Marcus had joined me after a time. The wagons were covered with canvas, roped down. It was not the first such convoy which we had seen in the past weeks. 'Well,' Marcus had asked, 'what is being borne?'
'Who knows?' I had asked.
He laughed.
To be sure, we knew, generically, what was being borne. It was not difficult to tell. Normal goods, exports of bar iron, and such, do not move in the city in such numbers. It is true, of course, that sometimes wagons would congregate at meeting places near gates, the wagons, say, of various manufacturers and merchants, and then travel on the roads in convoys, as a protection against brigandage, but in such a case the wagons, having different points of origin, would not form their convoy until in the vicinity of the gates, and, indeed, sometimes outside them, in order to avoid blocking streets. But the formation of such convoys, too, are usually advertised on the public boards, this information being of interest to various folks, say, merchants who might wish to ship goods, teamsters, guards, and such, who might wish employment, and folks wishing to book passage. Sometimes, incidentally, rich merchants can manage a convoy by themselves, but even so they will usually accommodate the wagons of others in their convoys. There is commonly safety in numbers and the greater the numbers usually the greater the safety. A fee is usually charged for entering wagons in a convoy, this primarily being applied to defray the costs of guards. Too, in some cases, it may be applied to tolls, drinking water, provender for animals, and such. Some entrepreneurs make their living by the organization, management and supply of convoys. But these convoys, those of the sort now passing, were not such convoys. For example, they were not advertised. Indeed, many in Ar might not even be aware of them. Another clue as to the sort of convoys they were was that the wagons were not uniform but constituted rather a diverse lot. Some were even street wagons, and not road wagons, the latter generally of heavier construction, built for use outside the city where roads may be little more than irregular paths, uneven, steep, rugged and treacherous. Some Goreans cities, for example, perhaps as a military measure, in effect isolate themselves by the refusal to allocate funds for good roads. Indeed, they often go further by neglecting the upkeep of even those tracks that exist. It can be next to impossible to reach such cities in the spring, because of the rains. Besnit is an example. Beyond this, although many of the wagons were unmarked,
