Dunes of Gor Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three: The Desert Serpent

“Secure the women! Secure the women!” screamed the kaiila rider as he swept past Laleh Sasani’s kurdah, his scimitar hand thrust high above his head. 

They called it the desert serpent – the long coiling line of march that travelled through the Hamada region of the desert. The combined Landsraad army was over 3,300 lances strong, each mounted on its own kaiila. Travelling with that military force was a baggage train of five times that number of pack kaiila, and a further 250 male work slaves who trudged on foot, and 300 kajirae, transported in kurdahs. It was in part a logistical nightmare, if only because the column consisted of the personal household warriors of virtually all the Landsraad, each with its own captains and command structures. Although nominally under the overall command of Hashim Sasani, the various House factions often disputed who should ride in which position in the snaking column. It travelled slowly, taking perhaps twice as long as a smaller troop of kaiila might take. And within the first two days of travel it came under attack by raiders. It became clear that the raiders were Kavars, pursuing hit and run tactics. 

The first engagement had been a ruse to lure some of the Landsraad riders out into the desert, away from the main body of the column. Eighty Kavar riders had struck at the tail of the column, riding in with whoops and screams, making contact with the column’s own skirmish screen, doing a little damage, before then fleeing when faced with the might of the column. Without stopping to discuss the response, a number of the Landsraad commanders pursued the small force with over four hundred warriors of Tor. They were lured away and rode into an ambush where a further nine hundred Kavars waited in concealment. Of the original four hundred Landsraad riders, only two hundred and fifty returned back to their column in time. First blood went to the Kavar.

“Secure the women!” yelled a second rider as he rode up to Laleh’s kurdah and, without asking permission of the Lady, ordered her to the ground. “Hurry now, Lady. You know the drill. Move yourself!”

After the first raid, the Landsraad now knew the rough strength of the Kavar force, and they sent scouts out into the Hamada to determine their position. From that point on, the Kavar force began to trail the Landsraad line of march and, perhaps twice a day, they chose to attack in force at whatever point seemed most vulnerable. The column was its own worst enemy when it came to reacting to a raid. Stretched out into such a long line, it was impossible for all of the line to respond quickly enough. Sometimes the raid was over before the front or rear sections of the column even knew what was happening. But with each raid, the orders were the same – secure the baggage and secure the women. The raids could not hope to overcome the far superior army, but in striking here and there at random, they could do damage, before sweeping back into the desert, carrying prizes away with them. By the time the Landsraad commanders could halt the column, form their men into combat units and then move against the Kavar, the raiders would be gone. Pursuing them into the desert was rash, and after the first encounter, Hashim Sasani had advised against it. Even so, some of the wilder warriors of Tor, enraged that these bandits could strike with impunity, did chase after small groups of Kavar riders. They rarely caught any, and even when they did, there was always the risk of ranging too far from the main column and being cut off. The sorties were therefore limited affairs, particularly when one or two ran into trouble and never returned. Soon, the column began to accept that they would be harassed throughout the journey, and they understood they would have to bear the attacks and fend them off each time, like men might strike at mosquitoes without ever taking the war to the mosquitoes themselves. 

Laleh Sasani was but one of many high born Landsraad ladies who had chosen to accompany the vast army to witness the glorious victory of the combined Houses of Tor. Their own personal baggage train was impressive, with dozens of pack kaiila devoted to carrying their billowing silken pavilions, extensive wardrobes, soft furnishings and slipper collections. It was to be a lark of sorts – a camping trip in sophisticated luxury, permitting the ladies to dine well and drink ka-la-na while their men stormed the stubborn fortifications of Al-Quada-a-Dhum. Laleh in particular wished to be there when her daughter was recovered, and when the upstart Shahzads were brought finally to their knees. She wanted to see her sister brought out, naked, in chains, so that she could gloat in victory. 

“You are too rough!” cried Laleh as two of the men hurried her to the Harl ring circle where fifty warriors had gathered to form a screen against raiders. The Harl ring circle was one of many up and down the line of march, and it was designed to prevent any woman, free or slave, from being carried away by a raider. Seated inside her own kurdah, a woman might easily be stolen. The raider had simply to seize the reins of the kaiila and lead it away from the column. And so the standing orders were to secure all women, free or slave, in closed circles of chains. The chains had a number of Harl rings at measured points in the chain sequence where they would be locked securely to the right ankles of the women. For added security, to prevent an entire chain of girls to be marched into the desert, each girl was seated in the sand and her right wrist was locked into a slave bracelet, with the other bracelet locked around her left ankle. This made walking impossible. No raider could steal so much as a single woman from this arrangement.

“Do not chain me to a slave!” screamed Laleh in frustration. “Do NOT Chain me to a slave! Are you listening to me?” She was thrust to her knees in the stony sand. “Oh!” And then she felt herself locked into a Harl ring and chained next to a slave. “Did you not hear me?!” She was furious. She felt the man take her right wrist and chain it to her left ankle. She shook the chain, incredulous that yet again the men had ignored her demands. Somewhere further down the Harl chain, Laleh saw the Lady Meriame. She too, it seemed, was chained to a slave. 

Everything else was a cacophony of noise and commotion. This far back from the main fighting, Laleh couldn’t be too sure what was happening, how many men were involved, and where the main thrust of attack was directed. It was obvious that riders were passing from one side of the column to the other, and then sometimes back again, but the command structure seemed fragmented and haphazard. She could tell that she was in no immediate danger since her free companion had given orders that all the chain coffles of women must be protected at all costs. But even so, it was frightening to find herself chained and helpless in the sand while warriors rode into each other, hacking and slashing with the razor sharp scimitars of the Tahari. 

“Are you all right, Lady Meriame?” cried Laleh as she regarded the woman. She shouted to her over the heads of several crouching kajirae who knelt in chains between her and the gentle Lady. 

“As well as can be expected, bearing in mind I am chained to slaves,” cried the Lady. “This is happening far too frequently! We rode for, what, a mere three ahn since the last raid? And every time we stop, we are chained, and then it takes two ahn to restore the line of march! At this rate we are barely moving! It will be many weeks before we reach the Shahzad fortress.”

Laleh suspected that was the point of these tactics. It took so long for the column to reassemble that just two raids a day could cut their movement to a third of their normal speed. They had been projected to reach Al-Quada-a-Dhum in ten days or so, but now it seemed like they might take thirty days. They would have to detour to resupply with more water if that was the case, adding to further delays. It really was intolerable.

“These cowardly raiders refuse to stand and fight in good order!” said Lady Meriame. “What cowards they are. They are scared of the might of the Landsraad! They know we would crush them like ants.”

“Of course,” said Laleh as she lifted her right wrist, but the chin links only permitted movement of a few inches. The slaves in the Harl ring arrangement were chained in exactly the same way as the free women. 

Laleh felt hot as she knelt under the direct rays of the sun, exposed on the desert floor, away from the cool shade of her kurdah. She found herself perspiring under her heavy robes and gowns, and the longer she knelt the more tired she felt. The heat haze was intense during midday and she was unaccustomed to this degree of exposure. The chaining was very unsettling. Being a high born Lady of the Landsraad, Laleh had never been chained before. It occurred to her that the Harl ring arrangement that held her, chained securely to a number of kajirae, was very much the sort of arrangement she might be subject to if she was captured. Then her captors would indeed have added her to a Harl ring arrangement, making her helpless by braceleting her this way. There should be some distinction in the chaining between slaves and free women, she thought, angrily. Why is it that we are all chained the same way?! She would of course make her complaints known to the senior commanders at her very first opportunity. But, come to think of it, she had made her complaints known only last night, and despite that she was chained with the slaves again. 

Laleh rested with her weight supported by her left hand on the sand. All around her were slaves, for slaves were the vast majority of women travelling with the column. Where there was a free woman, she stood out quite clearly in her fine garments.  

The fighting dragged on somewhere to the rear of the column for maybe another fifteen ehn. There was a lull in the screaming and thundering of hooves and then normalcy seemed to resume. Even so, Laleh had to remain crouching in the sand, chained, until outriders gave the all clear – and this took a further three quarters of an ahn. In frustration, Laleh pulled angrily at her wrist chain again. It was so obviously a slave bracelet! For slaves! Men mounted on kaiilas seemed to ignore her cries to be released. They, it seemed, had more urgent matters to contend with than to immediately free a coffle chain of helpless females. Presently they returned and, opening the Harl rings one at a time, systematically freed the women from the looped chain. Another man then moved along the line, unchaining wrists and ankles. “You may return to your kurdah now, Lady,” he said, recognising from her clothes that she was a free woman. Laleh Sasani was only too happy to do so, climbing up a set of steps into the shaded interior of the rep cloth canopy and sitting down in a flustered, heated state. There was then another interminable wait as the column began to reassemble. Occasionally Laleh peered out of the curtains at the front of her kurdah, willing the column to get moving, but with so many sub-commanders having to ride back and forth for instructions, it took forever for the front of the column to depart. Even then, the middle section and rear of the column had to stand still until it was finally their turn to join the moving section. When at last Laleh felt her kaiila begin to trudge forward, she breathed a sigh of relief. They were moving again. Moving at last through this wasteland of dust and stone and hot sun. She drank some of her bottle water and ate a couple of dates for a much needed sugar rush. There would still be weeks of this to come! She began to long for the soft comforts of Tor, and regretted coming out with the other ladies to witness the defeat of the Shahzads. But it was too late to request an escort back to Tor. The presence of Kavar raiders trailing the column made it far too dangerous for a troop of kaiilas to attempt to escort a Lady back to the city. For better or worse she was committed now with the other Ladies to travel on to the gates of Al-Quada-a-Dhum. 

Most of all she missed her bathing pool. Under her gowns she felt stale and dusty. She felt sure that her perspiration had dried on her skin, and only the perfume she carried masked the fact she hadn’t been able to wash properly since leaving Tor. At night a washing area was set up for the Ladies and they were permitted to disrobe behind a series of tall rep cloth screens. But water could not be wasted and so slaves simply patted their bodies with damp sponges. It wasn’t the same as a cool leisurely bath in a ceramic pool with fragrant bath salts and sophisticated body lotions and oils. 

The caravan travelled slowly for maybe three ahn before a cry broke out. 

“Secure the women! Raiders approach! Secure the women!”

Her kaiila, like the others in the long marching line, ground to a halt again. Within a few ehn, Laleh Sasani felt herself being led roughly from her kaiila, and pushed to her knees and secured to a Harl ring chain, despite her fervent objections.

“Just listen to me this time! You are NOT to chain me to a slave!” she cried. “Are you even listening to me? Free women to be chained separately, and…”

The man chained her to a slave and quickly moved on to add another girl to the Harl ring coffle, ignoring the free woman’s protests for what they were – inconsequential babble during a crisis. As Laleh fumed, she saw the Lady Meriame thrust to her knees and chained to a slave, twenty yards away. She too was livid!