Ubara of Gor Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: The Last Enchantment

Several years ago my son, Marik, asked me a question.

“Mama, what is a shield wall like?”

He was dressed in his cute red tunic – the scarlet of the warriors – and he had paused in his favourite game which consisted of him running around the garden with a toy wooden sword and shield and a helmet several sizes too big for him, cutting and chopping at imaginary foes while his sister pretended to be a prisoner resigned to being tied to a tree and needing saving. The sanguine and dignified expression on her face contrasted with the wild enthusiasm on Marik’s face as he pretended to cut down numerous warriors of Cos.

I can’t remember what I was doing that day – probably just sun bathing with a cool drink to hand, but I remember Brinn was there for I rolled onto my stomach and said, “you should ask your father that question.”

Brinn’s reply was what you might expect. “A shield wall is glorious; the greatest moment a man can aspire to is to stand with his brothers in a shield wall and stare down the enemy.” This seemed to please Marik who cut away at another imaginary foe before pausing to add, “what does mama think?”

I gazed at Brinn and he shrugged his shoulders and nodded for me to reply. “Well,” I said, “I was with a shield wall once, in Elysium, with your grandfather and your papa. But I didn’t see much. I'm a woman so I had to hide while the men fought.”

What I didn’t say to Marik is that the abiding memory I have of a shield wall is the smell. It’s a smell of leather, male sweat, sword oil and metal.

And urine.

It’s true. That’s what you notice before the shield walls clash and lock together in a rugby scrum punctuated by screams and stabbing.

I promise you it’s really not glorious at all.

I could see we had trapped ourselves before the ships even struck the beach. This stretch of coastline was mostly rocks and high cliffs and sheltered beaches of any kind were scarce. The one we aimed for as the Cosian fleet began to envelop us was a small cove with towering cliffs creating a formidable obstacle against the jungle interior. As we closed in on the shoreline I could sense with a sinking feeling in my gut that the cliff was far too steep to climb except maybe in ones or twos along a series of precarious perches. It would be impossible for us to get all our men to the top before the Cosians reached the beach and we would be sitting ducks trapped halfway up the cliffside, easy targets for their crossbows. This then was to be our final stand. I glanced at Brinn and saw no fear in his face as he continued to bark orders to his captains. The surf was pounding hard on the beach as the Larl shuddered to a halt, driving itself into the sand. By now half the ship was engulfed by fire and the aft cabins were a raging inferno destroying Kerim Shah’s workshop and Yishana’s personal quarters. Askaris began leaping down into the churning surf as soon as it seemed chest deep and together they began to wade to shore, lifting their shields and spears high above the lapping waves. Already the sails were aflame and I watched in terror as the ship I had called home for nearly a year became engulfed in the Cosian fire. I saw Yishana leap into the water, still dressed in her flowing gown. I saw her wade with difficulty as the water sodden fabrics slowed her pace until she emerged knee deep near the edge of the shingle.

Now our ship beached itself with a grinding of timbers and a lurch to starboard as the keel tilted in the sand. I felt Brinn grab me by my wrist and pull me to the side where he quickly lowered me gently at arms length into the surf. I found myself waist deep in the water and quickly followed the trail of Brinn’s warriors to the shoreline, joining a growing crowd of white and black skinned warriors as they formed up around their respective banners. Yishana had set her banner into the sand to the right of the cove – a flag bearing the snarling visage of a female Larl. A shaken looking Kerim Shah joined her, as did Tijani as the black Askaris began to form in a line either side of the banner. Brinn's men were doing the same, forming up under Brinn’s standard of a swooping Tarn. As for the slaves and the assorted non-combatants – we were ushered towards the rear, including the captive ladies, Saffia and Cassandra. I saw Simon hesitate, sword in hand, not sure whether he should join Brinn’s formation or Yishana’s. In the end he picked up a shield and stood beside Tijani who nodded in greeting. Brinn had simply blanked him when Simon had tried to catch his gaze.

But I didn't remain with the other slaves. Instead I pushed through the loose formation of Askaris to join Yishana for I could sense something was wrong. She didn’t seem herself at all. Ordinarily she would be barking orders, giving off a ferocious aura of determination, but now she seemed out of place, confused, bewildered even. She seemed to be going through the motions, and I began to realise why. Kerim Shah’s workshop was burning, and with it all his potions and compounds. Normally he would have given Yishana her combat drug, the drug that she thought enabled her to channel the spirit of her wild Goddess. It gave her a feeling of invincibility and, like Elizabeth Bentley, while drugged she would feel no fear. But this then was the first time she had stood before a shield wall in anticipation of battle without the combat drug in her veins. Now she felt what I felt – gut wrenching terror. But at least I didn't have to stand in the centre of a shield wall and lead it into battle. This new feeling was alien to her, and I could only speculate what it was doing to her usual sense of confidence. Without the drug she wasn’t the invincible avatar of the Goddess she professed to serve. Without the drug she was simply a woman. And a shield wall is no place for a woman.

Tijani was talking to Yishana by the time I reached her. He too sensed something was wrong.

“You need to take command, now, Ubara! Form the men up!” He glanced at her sodden wet gown, surprised she hadn’t yet shed it. Yishana stripping to the same red breach cloth as her men was always the first thing that stirred her Askaris into battle mode. The sight of her savage, naked body and her wild eyes as she screamed insults at the enemy from the very front of the Askari lines was essential for morale.

“They need to form in a funnel formation alongside Brinn’s force,” said Yishana, still able to grasp basic strategy at least, but I saw how her hands trembled as she spoke. Tijani nodded and waited, expecting her to give the command. When Yishana did, her raised voice sounded hesitant, quivering with nerves, and her men noticed the change from her usual tone. Tijani quickly repeated the order himself in his deep authoritative voice. Now the Askaris formed up in a solid line diagonally across one half of the beach, meeting at an apex point with Brinn’s forces to present the letter V with the widest space facing the water. The Askaris were perhaps eighty to ninety in number and with the space they had to guard they could only form into a line and a half. The half rank to the rear reinforced the centre of her formation.

I saw now that Tijani had noticed that Yishana’s hands were shaking.

“Is something wrong” His dark eyes sought out hers, but uncharacteristically she failed to meet his gaze. This was bad. The Askaris needed to believe in the mouthpiece of their Goddess if they were going to fight with conviction. As it was we would be heavily outnumbered. Our only hope lay in superior morale when the shields eventually clashed.

Brinn had left it to his captains to form up his own lines and so he now strode over to join Yishana and Tijani, a war spear in his right hand and a crested helmet tucked in the crook of his left arm.

“Tal,” he said, nodding to Yishana and Tijani in turn. “Our beached ships at the water line will hamper the arrival of the Cosian forces and make them pass between the hulls of the vessels before they can line up to face us. Nevertheless we are outnumbered maybe five to one so our priority will be to ensure they can only come at us with a fraction of their force at any one time.”

“They will bombard us first with their ship board catapults?” suggested Tijani as he gazed out to sea.

“Yes, but it will be at long range unless they wish to risk the rocks under the water line and our extended lines of battle are so thin that we will make for a very poor target. Our men will see the missiles coming and should be able to avoid most of them. I am also counting on the fact that the commander, Matias, will not wish to risk his Free Companion. I fully expect him to land and face us himself.” Brinn regarded the woman that was the source of this conflict: Lady Saffia Luna Josefina Alejandra of Telnus. Yishana had her on a chain leash held by one of the Askaris. Lady Saffia gazed at the approaching fleet with its Cosian banners and the sight of so many warships filled her with fresh courage.

“Surrender now and I will speak to my beloved to spare your lives,” she suggested. “A life as a Cosian galley slave will be preferable to death in this forsaken cove.”

“I do not surrender, Lady,” said Brinn simply.

“And why is that?” asked Lady Saffia.

“Because I wear scarlet,” said Brinn as if that should be obvious to her.

“And what of your men? Will you sell their lives so cheaply for your pride? You cannot win against the naval might of Cos. Let me negotiate terms for you.”

“My men wear scarlet too,” said Brinn, “You are a woman and you know nothing of our codes.”

“It is a fight we shall probably lose,” said Tijani. “She's correct about that at least.” Although he was a proficient fighter Tijani didn’t subscribe to the formal codes of the warrior caste of central Gor and so he was perhaps more of a pragmatist in such matters.

“You can surrender if you wish, “ said Brinn. “I understand you already have experience in pulling an oar on a Cosian vessel with chains around your ankles?”

I saw Tijani scowl and for a moment I thought he was going to attack Brinn, but no, he simply nodded, realising what Brinn was doing. “I will stand and guard your flank, Brinn of the Sardar. Do not fear. Our Larl banner will not retreat while your Tarn still flies.”

“Good.” And now Brinn clapped his hand on Tijani’s shoulder. “I call you sword brother then. Here on this sand we stand together as sword brothers. Our deaths will be glorious if that is to be our fate today. And if we survive, you may call on my aid at any time.”

Yishana had been uncharacteristically silent during this exchange of words, and I could see that this puzzled Brinn who had expected a far more savage woman.

“Do you plan to fight dressed in those wet gowns?” asked Brinn as he touched the hem of her sodden dress with the tip of his spear.

“The Goddess will command me when the time comes,” said Yishana as she took a nervous step back from the probing spear point without realising how that might look. Brinn raised his spear tip slowly as he regarded the Ubara again.

“I don’t know what it is you do prior to combat, but you should begin it now.” He glanced at the Askaris who still seemed in awe of her. “A captain inspires his men. Inspire yours, woman.”

Yishana’s hands moved slowly to the fastenings on her gown. In the past she had always boldly stripped the soft fabrics away to then pick up a spear and scream her war cry with drug inflamed eyes. At times like that she would look ferocious, mad even. She would laugh and scream and slash at anyone in her path. I had seen armed men actually back away from her. Now she simply looked bewildered. This was the first time she had not faced battle with drugs in her blood. Her hands hesitated on the edges of her gown and although she parted them slightly, she could not bring herself to strip and bare her breasts before Brinn. When she was high on her combat drugs it would mean nothing to her that Brinn might see her body, but now she felt the fear Gorean women had of being looked upon while naked by a man. There is a complex psychological element of a Gorean woman’s make up that teaches her from a young age not to show herself to the opposite sex. Drugs eliminated those thoughts from Yishana, but now there were no drugs.

“Well?” asked Brinn. “Just what am I supposed to be seeing? I have heard of your fierce reputation. Now is the time to prove it.”

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t strip before Brinn or indeed anyone. She felt vulnerable. She felt confused and she felt afraid. Where was the Goddess? Why didn’t she feel the spirit of the Goddess deep inside of her? This was frighteningly new to her.

“I need to speak to Kerim…” said Yishana and there was a tremor in her voice that was obvious to Brinn, Tijani and myself. And then she turned and walked quickly to where Kerim Shah was crouched on the beach sorting through what few substances he still had in a belt pouch. He looked up as he saw Yishana and myself approaching.

“Kerim…” said Yishana with fear and confusion in her voice, “I cannot feel the Goddess… help me… I do not know what this is… why do I not feel the spirit of the Goddess?”

Kerim of course knew why, and I suspect he had been urgently trying to find anything in his belt pouch that might put Yishana into her battle state, but from the expression on his face I knew that was now a forlorn hope. Our eyes met and he gave me the briefest of nods to confirm what he knew I suspected.

“The Goddess will come, Ubara,” he spoke calmly at first to try and reassure her, “but we are a long way from her homelands and so you must call upon her with faith in your heart by doing battle without her aid until she comes.”

“Without her?” Yishana flinched. She glanced back at the line of Cosian ships now blockading the cove. Long boats packed with soldiers were being lowered into the ocean. Catapults were being readied to bombard the shoreline and allow the long boats to beach safely. “Kerim… I need the grace of the Goddess! She has always been with me in battle! I have never fought without her!”

“Today you must, Ubara,” said Kerim, but I saw that he sensed how hopeless this was. Yishana needed her drugs. Without them she was no warrior. Perhaps a year ago things would have been different. Perhaps then she would have been able to marshall the confidence to at least fake what she needed to do to inspire her men, but I think her recent experiences as the supposed slave-girl, Mina, had shattered that confidence, for she had learned the hard way her limitations as a woman. It had been a rude awakening for her to find herself naked and collared and subject to Tijani’s desires in that slave alcove. She had been put to use repeatedly both by Tijani and her Askaris when they had not known who the slave girl Mina truly was. Perhaps it was now impossible for her to be Yishana without the drugs? Perhaps Yishana had been a lie and now she knew that in her heart of hearts she was nothing more than a secret slave who had been masquerading successfully as a haughty free woman. Maybe her fear now was partially born out of the knowledge that she was vulnerable in the presence of men and that if they turned on her she had no defences.

“What is going on?” demanded Tijani as he joined us. He waved his hand at the thin line of Askaris who waited for their Ubara to take her place in the centre of the formation. “This is no time to seek divine counsel. Command your men, Ubara!” He looked angry, and as Yishana flinched at his words he grew angrier still. “What is this? What is wrong with you?”

“I… I don’t know what to do…” Yishana’s voice was almost a whimper. She sounded pathetic as the fear took hold of her, turning her brain to jelly.

“The Goddess…” began Kerim, but Tijani was having none of it. He brushed Kerim Shah aside and faced down Yishana. “Do something. Your men need you.”

And there it was. A tear glistening in Yishana’s eye as she couldn’t meet Tijani’s gaze. “I... can’t…” she whispered.

Enraged, Tijani took hold of Yishana’s gown and tore it to her waist exposing the swell of her breasts. Yishana screamed, a sound that echoed across the beach, attracting attention that really wasn't healthy moments before the battle might begin. Yishana reacted to this tearing of her gown not as the Ubara of the Black Coast might, but as any Gorean free woman might. She clutched frantically at the fabric and held it together before her, covering her breasts from Tijanis' view.

“Get out of my sight,” snarled Tijani. “I will command your Askaris as best I can. Go to the rear and take refuge with the slave girls.”

“Tijani… I don’t know why the Goddess is not with…”

“Do it, or I swear I will strip you on the sand and carry you to the slaves on my shoulder!”

Even I flinched back as Tijani’s fury grew. I reached out and took hold of Yishana's left hand, pulling her back. “Come with me, Mistress,” I said. “Let us get out of the way until the Goddess returns to you once more.”

Yishana couldn’t meet the gaze of her Askaris as I led her away from the front line towards the back where the slave girls sat. Her head was downcast, her body was visibly shaking with fear and her hands were clutching the torn mid section of her gown together. I had no idea what her future as the Ubara of the Black Coast might be now, but it was I suppose irrelevant as we were all likely to die anyway. Already the first of the Cosian long boats were beaching as hundreds of warriors disembarked into the low surf, shields and spears raised. Brinn had chosen not to meet them at the water’s edge as he didn’t want to dissuade the Cosians from a land battle. I suppose he feared the prospect of simply being trapped at the foot of the cliffs as the ship’s heavy weapons pummelled the beach. If he allowed the Cosians to land some men they would not be able to use the catapults and ballistas. But he wasn’t going to allow all the Cosians to land. Once they had committed enough men to the shore line to make retreat impractical, Brinn signalled for his line of warriors to advance. Simultaneously Tijani raised his spear and ordered the Askaris to do likewise. Both sides of the v-shaped vice closed in at an oblique angle at the Cosian line. To meet the angled attack the Cosians had to swiftly alter their formation to face out on either side, and this momentary confusion gave Brinn and Tijani the edge. There was a loud cry that rippled across both lines as the men smashed into one another and the battle began. The rear ranks of the Cosians were still partly in the water, up to their knees, and so the impact forced them back further into the sea. This made their footing unsteady in the churning salt water and gave Brinn and Tijani an extra advantage. Also, Brinn had timed the charge to when many of the Cosians were split up by the presence of the two beached ships, one of which was still burning to the water line, that made it impossible for the Cosian formation to stretch from one side of the cove to the other uninterrupted. The first clash seemed to be ours, but I knew that the Cosians would learn from this and come back in greater numbers with greater caution. Here and there on both sides I heard and saw men screaming and falling. It was a confused melee but it seemed to me that our lines were holding for the time being whereas the Cosian lines lacked stability. And then the side facing Brinn’s line broke and it turned into a slaughter on the left hand side of the bay as Brinn’s warriors cut, thrust and stabbed at the broken Cosians. Men ran back towards the long boats, but Brinn only allowed his spearmen to pursue to where the water was beginning to be waist deep before he signalled for the retreat trumpet to be sounded. Tijani gave the same signal and both of our battle lines fell back in good order up the slope of the shingle beach to stand by the flapping banners once more.

I could see multiple bodies floating in the water, some of them being swept onto the beach by successive waves. Here and there the salt water seemed red in colour as blood spilled from horrendous stab wounds inflicted on the dead and dying.

Tijani was barking orders again in the absence of Yishana. I could see that the loss of the Ubara had an effect on the black warriors as now they were in an ordered retreat they were scanning round trying to locate her. I ran towards Yishana, my feet kicking up the shingle as I moved up the slope towards where the slaves were grouped. Yishana stood there in front of the slaves, clutching the torn front of her gown with her left hand as she chewed her lip in anguish. She knew she had to be there with her men, but a fear that she didn't understand gripped her now.

Have you ever been scared? I mean, gut wrenching scared? Don't judge Yishana harshly if you haven't faced that bowel churning fear head on or if you've taken the easy way out. I have seen strong men fail to stand firm in a shield wall before when the enemy has charged. It takes a special kind of man to look death in the eye and spit back. Either that or really strong combat drugs.

By the time I reached Yishana close to the cliffs I could see she was reciting an invocation to her Goddess repeatedly with her right hand raised to the sky. “Nakeisha, wind-rider, Mistress of the sheltering sky, come to me this day that I may lead my warriors to your great halls in glory and valour! Do not desert me in this final hour! I call on you blessed Lady of the wind – be with me in battle, I beseech thee!” She really did believe in all of this that she was some divine receptacle for her tribal Goddess.

I felt sorry for her. She had no idea. There were tears in her eyes as she called out over and over again to no reply. The Goddess had abandoned her and she did not understand why.

She looked small now, garbed in her pretty silk gown.

“Naomi, you have to get the girls to some sort of cover,” I said as I scrambled to where they were crouched next to some rocks. Chloe was already moving some of the girls further up the beach.

“There is no cover, Emma,” said Naomi as she comforted one of the girls who was by now crying hysterically. “Look around you. This is it.” I looked back quickly and saw that Brinn had reassembled his shield wall along the sand, meeting once again with Tijani's shield wall, but the Askaris did not look solid as they always did when Yishana was there to inspire them. Now a number of the Askaris were out of step with the shield wall line, almost as if they feared the next attack by the Cosians. They were brave men – I had seen their bravery many times before, but they were also superstitious men, and the apparent breakdown of the avatar of their Goddess had done serious damage to their morale. It was a bad omen if the Goddess refused to fight alongside them. I saw Tijani speak to a group of the Askaris as they looked like they were going to fall back to the cliffside and perhaps attempt to scale the treacherous pathway that led to the summit. This was bad. If some of the men broke and ran others would quickly follow and then Brinn's right flank would be exposed. The Cosians would envelop him, for he did not have enough men to secure the length of the cove himself, and we would all die. Well, the men would.

“The slaves know to submit when the Cosians break through?” I asked Naomi.

“Of course. But we will be of little value to them. The Cosians will only be interested in white skinned women.” She regarded me with the knowledge that the Cosians might feel the black girls weren't worth enough to bother with.

“They won't do that Naomi.”

“I have seen it, pleasure slave Emma. The Mistress is not the only one who hates the flag of Cos. Go. Leave us. Practice your submission. You they will keep for their slave markets in Telnus. Tell them you are a pleasure slave. Your chances are better if you are not amongst us.”

I looked at the girls who crouched in the shingle close to Naomi. I knew many of them well. Would the Cosians really kill them because there was not enough profit in carrying them back to Telnus? A cold shiver ran down my spine as I recalled how often I'd been told the black slaves from Schendi were cheap and plentiful.

“You're not going to die,” I said.

Naomi gave me a mocking laugh. “You know nothing, Emma of the North.”

I heard men shout. I turned and saw the Cosians had reinforced along the shoreline. Now they stamped in the low surf several ranks deep holding their beach head position as more and more Cosians landed to reinforce the line. I saw Tijani at spearpoint force the reluctant Askaris into a battle line. He looked grimmer than I had ever seen him, and I suspect he was singing his death song lament under his breath. He glanced back looking for Yishana and saw me instead. I stood there, the sea breeze whipping back my hair and I held his eyes as if to say, you are a man, you are standing to protect us, and I will not abandon you. And then he pointed his spear at me directly and then raised it to point to the treacherous trail that led up to the summit of the cliff. He nodded urgently, but I shook my head. I could possibly make it, as I was practically a mountain goat when it came to climbing, but I would not abandon the other girls, many of whom would slip, stumble and fall. I would not abandon Brinn. And anyway, where would I go? I would die alone in the jungle. I would rather take my chances here.

The Cosian lines began their second advance, and as soon as they did Brinn's men began to clash their spears against the iron shod rims of their shields. The cry was picked up by the Askaris who now began to chant their war cry as they hunkered down, pushing their shields together and projecting their short stabbing spears through the gaps in the line. Brinn and Tijani held the slightly higher ground but the gradient of the slope wasn't sufficient to make a great deal of difference. The shield walls met and the butchery began for the second time that day. A shield wall clash is the interminable grinding of a meat machine, with men slamming into one another and stabbing forward in a well rehearsed drill. It is when you look at a shield wall fighting that you understand why women on Gor are not warriors. A shield wall comprised of women would be broken and overrun in no time. You need muscle, bulk and aggression to hold, win and live.

The sheer weight of the Cosian formation was pushing our combined shield walls back, but neither Brinn's men nor the Askaris would give ground easily. But more boats were arriving, with more Cosian soldiers and I knew that our men would eventually tire and then gaps would appear in our line and soon...

Yishana was calling out to her Goddess again. I looked at her and realised how pointless it all was. Even had she been the Yishana of old, wild eyed and savage, spitting fury at the Cosians, ultimately the end would be the same. There were just too many soldiers on board the Cosian fleet. Too many swords and shields and spears. It seems the might of Cos had been arrayed to kill the bothersome mosquito with a flame thrower.

I saw the personal standard of Captain Matias Thiago Alejandra of Telnus, Third Sword to the city and Sea Admiral of the Second Fleet of Cos planted in the surf as the Admiral himself disembarked from a long boat to join his men. He was here to reclaim his woman, and with her, vengeance. The Lady Saffia was still on her chain leash, though she stood proud when she saw the Cosian battle lines and even prouder when she saw her beloved's battle standard. The chain leash was held by Imani, but now Saffia turned her gaze at the girl and snarled.

“I will not meet my beloved on a leash held by a slave. If you wish to keep your hands you will release that chain NOW! Or else I will have a soldier of Cos remove them both with his sword.” Imani looked scared and faced with this threat and the likelihood now of it being carried out, she handed the end of the chain leash to Saffia's outstretched hand and then dropped to her knees in the shingle.

“Please Mistress, forgive me,” she said, bowing her head. “La kajira.”

La kajira. I am a slave girl. All around me the other slaves were submitting to her. Even Naomi. Now Saffia stared at the slaves, knowing that the tide had turned. A bitter smile curled on her lips knowing the girls would hope she might keep them alive. She coiled the loose chain around her left arm, having no way to remove it from the collar around her neck. And then she called out down to the shoreline, crying out, “Brave men of Cos! I am here! Fight for me! Fight for me! Kill these outlaws who have tried to shame the might of Cos!”

She turned then and regarded me too. “Do you wish to live, Emma?”

“Yes, Mistress.” I fell to my knees in front of her and pressed my head to the shingle until she pushed my face away with her foot.

“Slut,” she said.

“Yes, Mistress. Please do not let the men kill us, Mistress.” I didn't think I would die, but I now believed Naomi was right and that without the intervention of the Lady Saffia, Naomi and many of the other girls might not survive the day.

Now she turned to Cassandra who stood in her torn and tattered robes of concealment, her face unveiled, much to her shame.

“Your brother has chosen to stand with the sea-bitch and so I will see you enslaved when his body is hacked to pieces on the beach. You will kneel before me and beg a collar and I will let you live as a slave-girl in a paga tavern, and each night I will give my men leave to visit and use you.”

Cassandra turned to face Saffia and the look she gave the Cosian woman was one of utter contempt. “Do you honestly believe your Free Companion will rescue you?” asked Cassandra coldly.

“Of course. Look at the might of Cos. Your thin line of warriors will soon be dead.”

“And then so will you” said Cassandra. She produced a small knife. I have no idea where she had obtained it, but I suppose in the ensuing chaos since our ships had been driven into the cove it hadn't been all that difficult to do. “Understand this, Lady Saffia Luna Josefina Alejandra of Telnus, my brother will fight until he is killed, and when he is killed, I will then kill you.” Cassandra didn't threaten Saffia with the knife, but the intention was clear. “Cosian victory or not, you will never get to lie in the arms of your beloved again, and I assure you the men of Cos will not enslave me when my brother has been cut down. I suggest you come to terms with all you have achieved in your life so far, for I assure you there is not much of it left to enjoy.”

Fuck. I backed away a step, seeing the cold hard fatality in Cassandra's eyes now. She had no intention of being taken alive by the men of Cos, and she had decided that Saffia would not live to celebrate the Cosian victory either.

“Cassandra...” I said.

“I suggest you leave, Emma, before I remind myself how much I hate you, you filthy little slut.” She turned those menacing eyes on me and I decided not to risk any further exchange of words.

I then saw Kerim Shah standing alone at the far end of the beach close to where the first of the hand holds on the cliff side offered the possibility of a way up to the summit. At first I wondered if he had considered scaling the cliff to escape the slaughter that was coming. If so he was the only man here who was seriously considering such a shameful thing while brave warriors stood their ground and died close to the churning surf. But no, Kerim Shah was watching the battle with those inscrutable eyes of his. He seemed to be biding his time, waiting for the right moment. His head turned as he sensed my eyes upon him, and he nodded as if to say he knew what I was thinking. I watched him proceed down the sloping shingle, his mind seemingly made up, and I ran towards him partly to put some distance between myself and Cassandra’s sharp knife. If she was in some fatalistic death mode, now was not a good time to be anywhere near her.

“Master, is there anything you can do?” I asked.

Kerim Shah nodded and regarded me. “I have one last enchantment. All things come to an end, but before they do, the Cosians will see true magic at work.”

I watched his back as he walked further down the slope towards the crumbling shield wall centred around Tijani. It was no longer a straight line, but rather a concave curve, shrinking in length as men fell and as the survivors closed up the gaps. It buckled in places and there were few men left alive in the rear as a reserve to shore up those parts of the shield wall. The same was true for Brinn’s line, though it was faring better as Brinn had the added weight of a second rank.

“One last enchantment then,” said Kerim Shah as he raised his left hand into the air. Suddenly there was a grinding sound as if timbers were coming apart and then some powerful invisible force took hold of the burning hull of the Larl of the Thassa where it lay beached in the surf and this unseen force lifted it high into the air. The Cosians on the beach were unaware of this with their backs to it, but the Askaris and warriors of the Sardar gazed in amazement as the burning hull span ninety degrees through the air from the swivel point of its prow as if weightless, moved diagonally for maybe fifteen yards before it came crashing down into the centre rear ranks of the Cosian formation as if it had been thrown. It struck the spear and shield armed warriors with all the force you’d expected a thrown sailing ship to have. Men were crushed beneath the burning hull and the impact split the fire damaged hull apart, causing side timbers to take out some more men on either side. The shock effect was catastrophic to the structure and integrity of the Cosian shield wall which was suddenly in complete turmoil. Brinn’s shield wall surged forward as the Cosian line collapsed; the Cosians to the left and right still trying to fathom what exactly had happened. The Askaris pushed forward too, and now the Cosian line fragmented completely and the men fell back in disarray towards the shore line where the admiral’s standard flew. Again Brinn permitted his men to pursue just long enough to cut down 20 or 30 of the fleeing Cosians but then wisely called a retreat before his weary men would hit the Cosian reserves that were still in the process of disembarking from the long boats.

I was the only one close enough to see an ornate ring of white gold on Kerim Shah’s left hand crackle, blacken and burn out as the ship fell and crushed the middle ranks of the Cosian force. Kerim Shah winced from the pain of the ring scorching his finger. He gazed down at it with a sigh and pulled it from the injured finger, casting it far away. “The last enchantment,” he said as he gazed back at me

“That’s it?” I said. “Nothing more?” My eyes turned to his right hand where another ring sat. This was the one I had previously seen him toy with that day long ago when we were becalmed on the Thassa with low stocks of fresh water, when I saw the Askaris fearing the worst, and when Yishana made a demonstration of her connection to the Goddess by summoning a great cloud of birds from the sky. The wind returned soon after.

“You know, don’t you, Emma?” said Kerim as he regarded me. “I've seen how you've watched me in the past.”

“I think so. You have two artefacts of alien technology. I presume they have limited charges. You’ve just exhausted the last charge from one of them.”

Kerim nodded. The finger of his left hand looked in a bad state from the burn out. “For so long I have marshalled my dwindling power. But all things come to an end. I have bought us time though. Time to think.”

There were maybe now 600 Cosians left at the water’s edge, contrasting with 65 Askaris and 90 of Brinn's men. But all of our men were tired and sore whereas the majority of the Cosians were fresh and had yet to fight. It was testament to the authority of Matias of Telnus that the Cosians stood their ground after witnessing such a devastating feat of magic. The Larl was now broken up into burning debris scattered across the centre of the beach. Brinn and Tijani used it as an obstacle to make up for the fact that they no longer led enough men to present a complete line across the mouth of the cove. Tijani lined his men to the right of the burning wreckage while Brinn lined up to the left.

“Kur or Priest King, Master?”

Kerim was silent.

“It must be one or the other. I know of no other race in this solar system.”

“You know of the great Game of Worlds?” asked Kerim.

“I have played it, Master. Several times.”

“If only we had time to talk. What secrets you could tell me.” Kerim held up the remaining ring on his right hand – the one that I suspect he had previously used to summon the clouds of birds to prove Yishana's link with her Goddess. “Priest King,” he said. “I was an agent of Priest Kings from the time before the Nest War. Do you know what that was?”

I nodded. I had heard of the Nest War which took place in 1967, in Earth years, back when civil war erupted in the Sardar between two rival factions of the Priest Kings – the secret Gods of Gor. By the time the civil war was over the Priest Kings were seriously weakened and unable to maintain full control over Gor and Earth. The Kurii, their ancient enemy, circled ever closer to Gor in their steel ships and sensing weakness accelerated their age old plans. I have no idea how weak the nest is now, if indeed it still is weak, but Brinn has mentioned from time to time that Priest Kings have more or less lost all influence over Earth and they show little sign of their former glory on Gor. Some wounds run deep and take many generations to heal.

“At the height of the Nest War it looked like the Sardar would be destroyed, if not the whole of Gor itself. Many of us fled. I took artefacts of the Priest Kings with me to aid my survival.”

“I assume they weren’t happy about that?”

“They don’t know. The Nest was in chaos. Many things were lost. I hid myself. I am probably presumed dead, if there are even any records of my service from those days. One ring was a gravity device. You saw it in action. It had many uses.”

I suspect it was that ring that accounted for Yishana’s recollection of Kerim Shah killing men by spreading their intestines in a cone of red mist across the Schendi jungle when they were first ship wrecked. If you can manipulate gravity as a force, you can do many things with it.

“It is dead now?”

“Yes. I knew the day would come. I regret now some of the more casual uses of that ring. I should have been more circumspect at times. Some of its uses were not strictly necessary, but you always assume there will be at least one more charge.”

“And the other ring? It controls birds? That seems a little pointless, Master.”

“I do not use it the way it was designed. It is useful to prove the authority Yishana has. But the ring itself was designed to summon a tarn – a great riding bird of Gor. With this ring the tarn will do the ring-bearer's bidding completely. If you are unskilled with tarns it makes utilising them simpler.”

“You’ve never used the ring for that?”

“No. The prospect of riding a giant bird of prey through the sky terrifies me.”

“But it can summon and control a tarn?”

“Yes. Why, slave girl, do you hope I will take you to safety on tarn back? No, I will not leave Yishana – she is like a daughter to me. A daughter I have failed.” He looked at her and saw now a young girl, afraid without her drugs, desperately still calling out to her Goddess with her right hand while her left hand clutched the torn shift of her gown to her body. “She has discovered a woman's modesty it seems.”

“So it seems, Master.”

“There was a time when she would run with an assegai in her hand, naked but for a breach cloth.”

“You drugged her. That was never really her.”

“I did. It was a necessary part of her deceit. And now the drugs are gone with the burning of the Larl. Just when Yishana needs them the most. It is easy to be brave when it is impossible to know fear.”

“You have no idea,” I said, thinking back of my encounters with Elizabeth Bentley. “Master, can that ring summon more than one tarn?”

“I suppose. If they are nearby. I have never tried.” Kerim's eyes widened. “Ah… I see.” He glanced up at the high summit of the cliff top. “But to stand any chance of widening the signal of the ring, we would have to be up there closer to the sky. I would never make it.”

“You would if I helped you climb. I’m practically a mountain verr.”

“Very well. To die by a cliff top fall is no worse than to die by a Cosian sword. Show me the way.”

To the casual eye the side of the steep cliff rose sheer from the beach cove forming a towering rampart of stone that glinted jade-blue and dull crimson in the afternoon sun; its high summit giving way to the dense emerald ocean of fronds and leaves that marked the start of the rain forest. It looked insurmountable, that formidable palisade with its sheer curtains of solid rock in which bits of quartz twinkled in the sunlight. But there were handholds and my eyes began to map out a possible route which might take us with some effort to the summit.

“It won't be easy, Master,” I said as I took the first few steps, skipping up the the stacks of rocks on my bare feet and hands. I don't know what it is about this body, but it sure does climb well.

“Nothing in life is easy, slave,” said Kerim Shah as he cut away the lower part of his robes to ease his climb. He began to follow me, struggling where I moved with agility and ease. One thing was sure, I could easily escape the clutches of a man by scaling a rock face. I let myself become part of the rock face, not to fear what it might do to me. I worked my way piece by piece, finding hand holds and crevices in which to lodge a foot, and each time I found a small ledge it was a success to be savoured, and a chance to turn and help Kerim struggle further up the side. Above me I could see gull nests, and the birds gazing down at us with resentment for we were now intruding into their realm. And I could see the beach from above, the lines of men now converging on one another for possibly the last time. Our lines of spears looked so fragile in the afternoon sun. The men were tired now, muscles aching, whereas many of the Cosians were fresh and rested. From here the clash of steel and the roar of men fighting and dying was muted by the wind. The lines once again clashed, shields smacking hard against other shields, crushing, pushing, stabbing. We had little time left if we were going to do this.

“Don't look down, Master,” I said as I looked down, but then I was also blessed with a complete lack of vertigo. I had to hand it to the Kurii science – it really had shaped a near perfect body. No doubt if they had given me a male body it would have been strong enough to arm wrestle Brinn to the ground.

“I'm not going to look down, slave. That would be stupid.” Kerim raised his hand, I took it and pulled him further up the cliff side, his feet scrabbling and sending down a shower of flint stones where he almost slipped.

And then something smacked hard against the cliff maybe eighteen inches from my head. Again there were impacts close by and looking down I saw Cosian crossbow men targeting us from the beach. Luckily the crossbow is a slow loading weapon, and so I redoubled my efforts to reach the summit while they began reloading. Kerim Shah too had felt the bolts chip away close to where he hung so perilously and he too realised we were sitting targets up here.

I scrambled up with the aid of a series of cracks in the cliffside and found another small ledge. I crouched down and almost lost my head from another volley of bolts. I seemed to be the prime target as they recognised that I was the best climber. I reached down again and pulled Kerim Shah up to join me. We were almost there.

The coastline of the equatorial lands was jagged from what I could see, like fingers of barnacled rock poking out with no discernible pattern. I tried to shut out from my mind the sound of crossbow bolts striking the granite to my left and right. Fear is your only true enemy, Brinn had always said. Conquer fear and you will conquer all your enemies. Step by step, foot by foot, we were making it to the summit. It is not a case of how far we have gone but how far we have yet to go. Focus on your objective – always know you will reach it. Down below men would be dying, crouching in the shingle as their guts tried to ooze out through their sword wounds. Focus, Emma. One more step, then another, then up, and... I was there. I knelt on the summit itself, feeling giddy as I turned and reached down again for Kerim Shah's hand. This time he seemed weak, his grasp loose but I took hold and when I heard him grunt in the affirmative, I hauled him up with me. We lay on the scrub grass getting our breath back and as we did I saw the trail of blood marking the short line in which I'd dragged him away from the edge. He had been shot with a crossbow, and unlike me he had been the more precise target.

“How bad is it, Master?” I touched him as he grunted and rolled onto his side. A thick shafted quarrel protruded from his un-armoured back.

“It is not... good... slave...” His spittle was pink in colour, getting redder as the seconds ticked by. “So near, and yet so far...”

“Can you summon the tarns?”

“I'm past the point of even standing.” Kerim Shah took hold of the ring on his right hand and slid it from his index finger. I think he meant to pass it to me but he was growing weaker and it dropped from his hand onto the scrub grass. “Time to discover the strength of your will, slave. Time for you to conjure in my place.”

“How does it work?”

“It answers your will. That is all I know. Priest King science is beyond human comprehension.”

I nodded. “Any sufficiently advanced science will be indistinguishable from magic,” I said. “It's an Earth saying.”

“I fear for Yishana when this is done.” Kerim gazed up at the sky. It was so blue and where they were clouds they seemed like soft white marshmallows. “Her life will be hard without me.”

“You love her, don't you?”

“Like a father loves a daughter. Everything I did, I did for her. But this quest for vengeance... I knew it would be her downfall. I made a mistake there. And the drugs... they are no longer working.”

“The combat drugs? They seemed fine last time I saw her fight.”

“No, not those. Those remain potent. Her body does not resist them. The other drugs. The other drugs I gave to her every day in her food.”

“I don't understand. What other drugs?” This was new to me.

“She has begun to develop a resistance to them. I suppose it is the natural way of the female. I can only suppress nature for so long.”

“What are you talking about, Master?”

“When Yishana reached puberty I realised she was cursed. I saw the way her body began to develop, and I saw the first of her confused desires begin to manifest themselves. Yishana has the sexual desires of a natural slave, though she does not know it. I have, since her puberty, given her powdered roots that suppress the worst of her sex drive so that she could function as a free woman should. But of late her body has fought back against the drugs and dosage has grown larger until I fear there is little more I can do. Her natural desires are beginning to surface. I think you know that.”

I nodded. Now I began to understand her downward spiral in that regard. Now I understood some of her recent recklessness.

“I sought to hide her true nature because... well, I saw her as a daughter when I pulled her from that burning house in Telnus so many years ago. I saw those frightened eyes and I knew I had a new path in life. I have never had children of my own. My work for the Priest Kings left no time for that, and in the years after the Nest War I kept moving from place to place, fearful that the Priest Kings would find me, but in truth I think they no longer even knew who I was. So many years wasted, fearing to stay in one place for too long. But Yishana as a small child gave me a purpose in life. I wanted to protect her, even from herself. Gor is a dangerous place for a woman who nurtures slave like desires deep in her belly.”

“Master, I can see our lines fragmenting on the beach. I have to do this now.”

“Do so. I shall watch while I cling briefly to life. And when this is done, take my belt pouch. All the answers you need to the questions in your mind can be found in there. It contains the records of Yishana's secret history. Use what you find to save my daughter's life.” Kerim lay back on his side on the scrubland grass and his eyes strained to remain open as I rose to my feet, slipped the ring onto my finger and gazed up at the sky. I raised my hand in a fist and thought long and hard of tarns – majestic swooping tarns, dangerous, lethal - the very ubars of the sky.

Come to me, I thought, come to me now.

All of you.

I waited. Minutes ticked by as down below the Askari shield wall finally broke. I saw Cosians swarm amongst the tattered remnants of the Askari line, the fighting now spilling over into a rout. And I saw Brinn's line crack as well, break into three groups to make their final stand.

And then high in the sky I saw a tarn with bright plumage, vibrant feathers as is the mark of the jungle tarn, and behind it were other tarns, for in the wild they fly in flocks, an awesome sight if ever you see one. I counted two, three, five, seven, nine. I held my breath as I saw the numbers build to double figures. On they came with a loud roaring of wings. A tarn is massive, the largest of the species easily capable of lifting seven to ten men on a knotted rope.

I felt the metal of the ring seem to pulse against my finger as the tarns came swooping down from the sky and obey my will. The Priest Kings are so beyond us all in science that they may as well be Gods for all we know. I directed a third of the tarns at the Cosian battle line, sending my avian army in a suicidal charge at the spear and shield wall. The Cosians did what soldiers will always do against an air-borne attack – they raised their spears and formed a hedgehog formation, knowing that the great birds of war will sweep away at the last moment rather than embed themselves on the steel points. But what they didn't know was that these tarns were subject to my will and my will now overrode their basic survival instincts. The tarns crashed through the Cosian lines not caring about the spears thrust into their sides in the process. Instantly the Cosian line was torn apart. Imagine a series of helicopters just driving headlong through a shield wall at full speed and you will have an idea of the effect they had. Three of the great tarns were down with horrible injuries, but they simply tore into the Cosians to the left and right, slashing men with their talons and driving their great beaks through shields without a care in the world.

Now there was no order to the Cosian line and it fell apart into a mass of screaming men. A few groups of Cosians managed to stand together with their spears still pointing up towards the sky but for the most part it was chaos. Then came the tarns I had kept in reserve. They swooped down and plucked men from the ground in their talons, carrying them up and dropping them onto the fragmented pockets of spears that still maintained discipline. There was no let up – along the whole line of the beach tarns were attacking en-masse, ripping the unarmoured Cosians to pieces, rending, tearing flesh, stabbing enormous holes through men's stomachs and tearing out the intestines like so many red ribbons.

And now I turned my attention to the Cosian troop ships close to the beach – those that had initiated an early artillery bombardment and were now poorly defended as virtually all their armed soldiers had been disembarked to fight Brinn. A wave of tarns flew the short distance towards the vessels and began to pluck men from the deck, throwing them into the sea. A few men attempted to fire ballista bolts at the tarns but it was an impossible series of fast moving targets and the ballistas were too slow to reload to get off more than a single shot before razor talons came down to slay the men manning the weapons.

In all of this Brinn had sensibly held his surviving men back, fearing that to attack the Cosians now would put his own men at risk of being torn apart by the wild tarns, and this was a wise decision of his for I was not strong enough to direct every individual action of the birds. All I could do was send them where I wanted them to be and let their fighting instincts take care of the rest.

The Cosians were in full rout, wading deep into the sea, still screaming as screeching tarns dove down and fed on the men like they were worms emerging from the soil. Some of the men began to swim towards the nearest troop ships despite the carnage that was evident there as well.

I stared down from the summit of the cliff surveying what I had done and it made me sick to the core. With a force of will that felt like pulling back on a leash I pulled the tarns back into the sky and simply held them there screeching down at the ships and the terrified soldiers. The surviving Cosians began to surrender, discarding their swords and shields, dropping to their knees below a dozen or so enormous birds of prey that threatened to attack again at the slightest hesitation. The beating of so many wings sounded like a continual roar as Brinn cautiously sent his surviving banner men to round the Cosians up. They did so, but gazed fearfully up at the sky, half expecting the tarns to attack them as well.

It was harder, much harder to hold the warlike tarns back than it had been to spur them into battle. I felt the strain and I knew if I failed there would be bloodshed again, and this time the tarns would attack everyone on the beach, regardless of their flags.

But I did it. I held them in check. I pulled them back further, still screeching their frustration at not being permitted to feed on the dead. And then, just because I could, I pulled them high in the sky above me so that I stood silhouetted on the summit of the cliff, my clenched ring fist raised to the sky, the wind blowing my hair, a dozen or so surviving tarns screaming their war cries as they gathered around me.

I was the Mother of Tarns. Hell, I was practically a fucking Targaryen!

I swept my arms high into the air to look as dramatic as I could as the screeching grew almost too loud to bear, and any Cosian who still had thoughts of fighting on swiftly threw down the last of the weapons. It was over. It was over and we had won,

Mother of fucking Tarns, I thought to myself. Mother of fucking Tarns.

And then the ring suddenly sparked, blackened and went dead on my finger.

I stood there watching a series of confused tarns begin to wheel through the sky in circles as gradually in twos and threes they flew away, unsure why they had been gathered together in such a large flock overlooking a beach.

The Mother of Tarns was just another slave girl again.