'Perhaps,' said Marcus.
I drove my fist into the palm of my hand.
'What is wrong?' he asked.
'Ar must be roused!' I said.
'It cannot be done,' he said.
'Ar lacks leadership, will, a resistance!' I said.
'Lead Ar,' suggested Marcus.
'I cannot do that,' I said. 'I am not even of Ar.'
Marcus shrugged.
'There must be another!' I said.
'Marlenus is dead,' he said.
'There must be another!' I wept.
'There is no other,' said Marcus.
'There must be a way,' I said.
'There is no way,' said Marcus.
'There must be!' I said.
'Do not concern yourself,' said Marcus. 'Ar is dead. She died in the delta.'
'In the delta?' I said.
'In the delta,' said Marcus. 'Indeed, we were there.'
'That is possibly it,' I whispered. 'The delta!'
Marcus looked at me, a little wildly. Perhaps he suspected that I had gone mad. Indeed, perhaps I had.
'That may be the key,' I said. 'The delta!'
'I do not understand,' he said.
'Are you with me?' I asked.
'Has this anything to do with the recovery of the Home Stone of Ar's Station?' he asked.
'Oh, yes,' I said. 'Yes, indeed!'
'Then I am surely with you,' he said.
'Is your sword still thirsty?' I asked.
'Parched,' he said, smiling.
'Good,' I said.
11 The Delka
'Stop babbling, man!' ordered the guardsman, an officer in the scarlet of Ar, though his accent proclaimed him Cosian.
'It was so quick!' wept the merchant. 'My shop, my wares, ruined!'
'Aii,' said another of the guardsmen with the officer. There were four such men with him. They were, I think, of Ar. They were looking about the shop, one of ceramics. There were many shards about. Shelves had been pulled down. Among the shards and wreckage, by count, there were seven bodies, all Cosian merchants. 'Who are you?' asked the officer, looking up.
'Auxiliaries, Captain,' said I, 'in the vicinity.'
'See what carnage has been wrought here,' said the officer, angrily.
'Looters?' I asked.
'Explain now,' said the captain to the merchant, 'what occurred. Control yourself. Be calm.'
'I am sick!' wept the merchant.
'I am not of the physicians,' said the officer. 'I must have an account of this. There must be a report made.'
'It was at the ninth Ahn,' said the merchant, sitting on a stool.
'Yes?' said the officer.
'These fellows entered the shop,' he said. 'They claimed to be tax collectors.'
'These fellows presented their credentials?' asked the captain.
'They are not tax collectors' said one of the guardsmen. 'They are fellows come in from the camp, on passes. They are well known on the avenue. They pose as tax collectors, and then, in that guise, take what they wish.'
'What did they want?' asked the captain of the merchant.
'Money,' he said.
'You gave it to them?' asked the officer.
'I gave them what I had,' he said, 'but it was little enough. The collectors had come only five days earlier. They leave us destitute!'
'You murdered these men?' inquired the captain, skeptically.
'I did nothing,' said the merchant. 'They grew angry at not receiving more money. To be sure, had I any, I would have given it to them readily. Glory to Cos!'
'Glory to Cos,' growled the officer. 'Continue.'
'Angry at the pittance they obtained they began to wreck the shop.'
'Yes?' inquired the officer.
'My shop! My beautiful wares!' he moaned.
'Continue!' said the officer.
'It was then that two fellows entered the shop, in silence, like darkness and wind, behind them,' he said.
'And?' inquired the officer.
'And this was done!' said the merchant, gesturing to the floor.
'There were only two who entered behind them?' asked the officer.
'Yes,' said the merchant.
'I do not believe you,' said the officer. 'These fallen fellows are swordsmen, known in the camp.'
'I swear it!' said the merchant.
'There appears to be only one mark on the body of each of these fellows,' said one of the guardsmen, who had been examining the bodies.
'Warriors,' said another of the guardsmen.
'I do not even know if they realized what was among them,' said the merchant. 'It seems to have been professionally done,' said the captain.
'Yes, Captain,' said one of the men.
'Whose work could it be?' asked the captain.
'Surely there is little doubt about the matter,' said another of the guardsmen. The captain regarded the guardsmen.
'See, Captain?' asked the guardsmen. He rolled one of the bodies to its back. On the chest was a bloody triangle, the 'delka.' That is the fourth letter in the Gorean alphabet, and formed identically to the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet, the 'delta', to which letter it doubtless owes its origin. In Gorean, the delta of a river is referred to as its, 'delka.' The reasoning here is the same as in Greek, and, derivatively, in English, namely the resemblance of a delta region to a cartographical triangle.
'It was the same five days ago,' said one of the men, 'with the five brigands found slain in the Trevelyan district, and the two mercenaries cut down on Wagon Street, at the second Ahn, only the bloody delka left behind, scrawled on the wall.'
'In the blood of the brigands, and of the mercenaries,' said one of the men. 'Ar takes vengeance,' said one of the guardsmen.
'Sooner could a verr snarl!' snapped the officer.
'We are not all urts,' said one of the men.
'Your swords are pledged to Ar,' said the officer, 'Ar under the hegemony of Cos!'
