Barbarian of Gor Chapter Thirty One

 

And there she stood – the great walled city of Torcadino - the jewel of central Gor - if you believed the citizens of Torcadino. To the east were the Flats of Sarpeto, and if you ventured even further east you would then reach the mighty Voltai mountain range. Beyond those mountains lay the lands known as the Barrens, of which the less said the better, and we would not be going anywhere near there. 

 

“We made it,” said Felix as he slowed his pace. ‘Hai Corcyrus!” He raised his sword arm in a triumphant fist. Kayra, who was standing beside me, cheered. 

 

“Let’s walk through the great gates before we celebrate,” suggested Adam as he watched the thin line of travellers ahead of us passing in and out of the city. 

 

“You’re expecting trouble in the last three hundred yards?” I said.

 

“It’s my job to expect trouble all the time,” he replied. “This is the moment that will be the most dangerous for us. Our enemies might not know how and where we travelled, but they certainly know what our destination is. If you wanted to be absolutely certain of finding us, where would you position the best of your men?”

 

“At the entrance of Torcadino,” I said. 

 

“Precisely. There will be agents of Argentum waiting by the gates, and they will be able to summon other men when we’re spotted.”

 

“If we’re spotted,” I said, with a trace of optimism that didn’t go down as well as I hoped it might.

 

“When we’re spotted,” said Adam again. 

 

We had made good time now that the roads were modern and easy to navigate this close to the city. My coffle now consisted of just two girls; Kayra and Nia. Nia had been quiet throughout the morning. Her experiences last night in Darian Athuk’s tent had seemed to crush the last of her spirit. Now when I gave her commands she obeyed them dutifully without complaint and without her usual passive aggressive resistance. I think she now understood her fate was sealed. She was now legally a slave. The coming brand would just be an afterthought. 

 

Kayra had been delighted to discover that Nia was now a slave. The very first thing the young girl had done was command Nia to kneel and kiss her feet and call her Mistress. Nia did so, her eyes seeming to suggest she had given up and had no will left to fight. 

 

“Nia is a slave,” Kyra laughed. “When will you brand her?” she asked me.

 

“Once we’re safe inside Torcadino.”

 

“I want to see her with a brand,” said Kayra. “I wish I had been there when she declared herself a slave.”

 

The towering brick walls of Torcadino were approximately six metres in height, with a relative thickness of three and a half metres in most places. The central gates – which were the only gates foreigners could pass through – consisted of two arched entrances with travertine facing, framed by two semi-circular towers. Other smaller gates would be built around a simple arch while the most modest ones were inserted between the square towers of a stretch of wall.

 

Some large buildings were also incorporated into the enclosure, such as the military camp of Torcadino’s elite Hetairoi spearmen, the Sciritae administrative buildings, and the enclosing outer wall of the Anatolian gardens, open to the public between dawn to dusk. Some stretches of the walls lay in the shadow of the famous aqueducts that had been used by Dietrich of Tarnburg to gain entrance to the inner city and storm it decades ago. Obviously enough, security around the aqueducts had been tightened since then.  

 

The wall system surrounding Torcadino had been restored and reinforced several times over the decades following the bloody Ar/Cos war in which Torcadino became a significant pawn of the opening stages of the conflict during the last decade following the inauguration of the current Ubar. Its height was doubled and the previous patrol path along the top of the wall was replaced by covered corridors, while above a new open walkway with battlements was created where heavy war machines could be mounted. Torcadino would now be a formidable nut for anyone to crack, and its Ubar understood that only too well. Consequently Torcadino’s sphere of influence had increased over the years, taking advantage of the weakness of Corcyrus, its close neighbour. Corcyrus had been squeezed not only by tribute and vassal status to Argentum, but by erosion of its influence in the lands bordering Torcadino. Our Tatrix had faced the unpleasant truth that she would need to come to terms with Corcyrus’s age old rival, Torcadino, and do so on unequal terms. I hadn’t been told just what Torcadino was going to get out of the coming alliance, but I guessed it would be a considerable price. 

 

“So, time to put on your Sherlock Holmes deerstalker, Roland. Time to impress me. Tell me what we can expect by way of a welcome,” said Adam.

 

“You actually want to know, or is this simply a test?” I asked.

 

“It’s a test. I know what to expect. Do you?”

 

“Armed men within the city walls, close to the entry points. City guards bribed to look the other way when the fighting starts. There would be no point telling the city guards at the gate who we are, would there?”

 

“None at all,’ said Adam. “They would take us somewhere ‘safe’ and then kill us. Go on.”

 

“So, small bands of men, generally dressed inconspicuously, waiting for a signal.”

 

“And how will they know who we are?”

 

I smiled. “Miss Sally Reeve knows what we look like. Argentum will have flown her directly to Torcadino by tarn basket. She got here ahead of us.”

 

“Good. Go on.”

 

“So, she will be inside the walls, somewhere with a good observation point overlooking the central gate, but possibly somewhere she won’t be in any direct danger when a fight kicks off. Foreigners are only allowed to pass through the central gate. We could try the other gates but by trying to persuade the guards there to let us through we will clearly identify ourselves for who we are to the handful of watchers stationed at each position, so there is no point trying. At least the main gate leads into a number of wide open squares and gives us a better chance of not being trapped. Free Women can easily watch travellers entering the city because the hoods of their garments and their veils make it difficult for anyone to know who or what they are looking at. And we won’t know which woman is Sally Reeve. Robed Free Women all look the same.”

 

Adam nodded and smiled. He seemed to be impressed, so I continued.

 

“There will be a signal arrangement. When Sally spots us the men will move in. We’ll be followed. Even if they’ve bribed the guardsmen at the gates it would be better not to involve them in the fighting. The Argentum assassins won’t all be together. A couple of men first, followed by another couple of men and so on. Only the first group has to keep an eyes on us. The other groups only have to follow each other.”

 

“They have a further advantage don’t they?” said Adam.

 

“We don’t know the layout of the city. We have no maps of the streets because Goreans frown on such things, and very few streets will have signs. They, on the other hand, will be familiar with the layout. We can’t simply head straight for a place of safety, because we don’t know which way to go, so we’ll be running wild. We won’t have time to scout around because the armed men will move in to kill us. We’ll be reacting, rather than being proactive. We may take a wrong turn fleeing our assailants and find ourselves trapped in a side alley with no means of escape.”

 

Adam nodded again. “The women will be a liability. Nia – Lesha!”

 

Nia clasped her wrists behind her back and lifted her head, turning it to the side. Her expression seemed sullen, but she didn’t resist as Adam locked her wrists in slave bracelets behind her back. He then clipped a leash to her slave ring and set about removing the Harl ring arrangement from the left ankles of both Nia and Kayra. 

 

Kayra seemed anxious. She was so close now to safety, so close to having the collar removed from her throat and being given back the robes and veils of a Free Woman, but she had heard our conversation, and she understood that very soon, unless the Priest Kings were blinding our enemies, we would be fighting for our lives. Kayra flexed her left foot, feeling the freedom that comes from not having the shackle weight there. With luck she would never be shackled ever again. “What can I do to help?” she asked.

 

“When we enter Torcadino cross your wrists behind your back, the way Nia is shackled. It would be suspicious if one of you wasn’t braceleted, but your wrists will actually be free in case we need to run. You stay very close to me,” said Adam, “unless I tell you to run, in which case you heel Roland and do not leave his sight. I will give you Nia’s chain leash to hold when the fighting starts.”

 

“And a switch!” said Kayra.

 

“And a switch,” Adam agreed. “Use it on her the moment she tries anything.”

 

Felix looked grim now. I saw his right hand touch the hilt of his scabbarded blade for reassurance. 

 

“We can’t stand and fight,” said Adam. “Time is on their side. If we stand still more men will come. We hit and we run, but in an orderly fashion, I hope. Felix – in a fight I will take point and you will skirmish from the side. Adam, you support Felix, unless I tell Kayla to run, and then you run with her and keep her safe.”

 

“Where do we meet up if we’re separated?” I asked. 

 

“The Aurelian Gardens,” said Adam. “They should be easy enough to find. There is a statue of the Ubar Aurelius II in the centre. Mark the base of the statue to the left with a chalk mark of the Gorean letter tau when you arrive and then wait in the bushes nearby with a view of the statue. Wait until you see me. If you have to leave for any reason erase the letter tau.”

 

“We’re so close,” I said.

 

“Not close enough,’ said Adam. “When this is over and Kayra is safe we will drink paga together.” He regarded me with a proud expression. “You can be a bloody fool, Roland, but I was wrong not to have wanted you with me.” He extended his right hand and I took it, feeling him grip and hold me for a moment as he looked into my eyes. “For Corcyrus,” he said.

 

“For Corcyrus,” I said. “And for the Tatrix.”

 

Adam smiled and nodded. “We must never forget our lovely Tatrix.” The way he said it made me wonder for a moment if Adam had ever couched with her. There was so much I didn’t know about him, or how he rose to his position in Corcyrus.

 

And then we walked towards the great gates like condemned men who were about to meet the hangman.

 

I felt nervous. I felt my right hand trembling, so I gripped it into a fist and pressed it against my thigh because I didn’t want the other men to notice. For Corcyrus, I thought to myself. For the Tatrix. It’s one thing to have to suddenly fight for your life without warning, and quite another to walk calmly to a place where you know it’s going to happen. I felt Felix place his hand on my shoulder and I think Felix sensed my nerves. “For Corcyrus,” he said, calmly. “They will have to get past me to get to you,” he said.

 

“And they will have to get past me to get to you, Felix.”

 

“We are brothers and we shall drink so much paga when the day is out,” said Felix as he clapped me hard on the back and walked to stand beside Adam.  I thought of Kelly Milford to take my mind off the impending violence. I remembered how she looked and show she felt for that precious half an ahn in the paga tent of Rubin Clegane. Kelly would be my reward. Come hell or high water I would have her in my collar if I survived this. If I was able to cut my way through Argentum’s assassins, I’d certainly find a way to own Kelly Milford as my kajira. 

 

We had to join a small queue of travellers waiting to be allowed into the city. I stood there as the queue inched forward, as scribes at the gate studiously documented the names of the travellers, noted their Home Stones, their castes, collected entrance fees and issued temporary residency permits that typically lasted a week. 

 

“Swallow this,” said Adam as he handed me a white tablet.

 

“What?”

 

“Amphetamine Dexedrine. Combat strength. The stuff issued to helicopter pilots in Vietnam, to be taken if they crashed behind Viet Cong lines and had to march eighteen hours through enemy lines to get to safety. It’ll give you an edge and you won’t feel much in the way of pain if anyone stabs you. By the time you know you’re dead, you’ll probably have killed the man who did it.”

 

“Charming.” I swallowed the tablet. “I suppose you have your gun ready?”

 

Adam smiled. “You don’t have to worry about the first four men who come at us.” 

 

“The Priest Kings are going to be annoyed about all the paperwork if you fire that thing again.”

 

“That’s the spirit, Roland,” said Adam with a smile.  

 

I counted six guardsmen on duty at the central gates. They were armed in the typical fashion, carrying spears, shields, and wearing helmets, but none of them seemed particularly vigilant. When you spend every day gazing at lines of people waiting to enter your city, and when nothing ever really happens that requires you to step in and smack heads together, boredom rapidly sets in and you don’t pay strict attention the way you might if an alarm had actually sounded.

 

“Names, please,” said the scribe as we finally reached the front of the queue. 

 

“Adamus, Felix,  and Roland,” said Adamus, indicating us each in turn. He wasn’t bothering with aliases. Our enemies would know who we were by sight. “We have two slaves – Nia and Kayra.”

 

The scribe made notes. “Home Stones?” he asked.

 

“Corcyrus. We are…”

 

“More desperate refugees,” said the scribe, looking up. “As if we don’t have enough already. You will be refused entry unless you demonstrate you have funds of at least…”

 

I opened my pouch and poured ten silver tarsks onto the table.

 

“Well, that will do,” said the scribe. “You’re obviously not going to be a burden on the city. A residency permit for a week will cost 5 copper tarsks each and 1 copper tarsk per slave.”

 

I scooped up my money and returned it to my pouch as Adam proceeded to cover our costs from his own funds. His eyes watched the wide open arch of the double gates and the wide boulevard just beyond it where market stalls and taverns lined either side, hoping to be first to tempt visitors to spend some of their money. 

 

And then as we passed through the great arch and finally entered the city proper, I saw her. Perhaps it was luck, or intuition, or some sixth sense, but my eyes settled on a Free Woman who was buying a soft drink from a market stall. She stiffened as she looked our way, as if surprised as we passed through the main gates. Oh, Sally, did you leave your nice secure vantage point because you were thirsty? Have you been watching out for us day after day and so your security protocols gradually slipped? It was her, I felt sure of it, despite the cumbersome robes of concealment and the heavy veil. I was certain it was her. She glanced over to the right, and I followed her gaze, seeing four violent looking  men seated at a table outside a paga tavern. Luck was with us and they weren’t watching her. Again, they had probably been here day after day, and no one can maintain a degree of alertness throughout. We had precious seconds to react. Sally had seen us, but her men weren’t watching out for her signal. For a few precious seconds Sally couldn’t alert them. Perhaps the Priest Kings were on our side after all. I didn’t have time to explain things to Adam. I had a chance to reach Sally before the armed men could leave their table, and I just had to hope that Adam could adapt his strategy accordingly. Sally would be in a position of authority within this city. Cut off the head, and the rest of the snake is headless.  

 

I broke into a sudden run, launching myself directly towards the stall where the Free Woman was buying some diluted juice. 

 

“Ekkart!” I heard her cry as I was twenty five feet from the stall and closing. “EKKART!”

 

That did it. In my peripheral vision I saw the four men jump from their table and reach for their weapons as they tried to discern what was happening. For a moment they seemed confused, uncertain where the woman’s voice was coming from since every woman in this square was dressed anonymously and looked the same. But then they drew their weapons regardless. 

 

I was still fifteen feet away when the woman I assumed was Sally Reeve tried to escape. I have mentioned before that the constrictive gowns of a Free Woman are not conducive for running in. The garments are effectively long tubes that descend to the ankles and they don’t permit wide strides. Women dressed in that fashion have to take short steps because their skirts don’t allow anything else. This makes it easy enough to catch a running Free Woman when, say, a city is being sacked and plunder is being taken, but here in this square Sally had the advantage of numerous market stalls serving as cover. The woman darted back behind the stall serving soft drinks, and I saw her hurry on into the thicket of traders, pushing past other men and women in her haste to escape me.

 

“Mind where you’re going, Lady,” declared a man who was pushed to the side. Another man grunted in surprise as the woman collided with him momentarily, then she slipped to his left before he could seize her, and continued running. By now I reckoned the four armed men at the paga tavern table would probably be working out what was happening here. Whether they might get past Adam and Felix though was another matter. It occurred to me that I had heard nothing to suggest Adam and Felix had made themselves known, in which case they were probably waiting for the armed men to pass by before attacking them by surprise. All good. In the meantime I wanted to catch Miss Sally Reeve of Brighton. She and I had a long overdue reckoning. 

 

I’ll say this for her, she ran fairly well in her cumbersome skirts. Unfortunately for her, I was faster. I pushed a couple of men out of my way and heard them object as they struck nearby stalls. I leapt over some crates and caught sight of Sally rounding a corner in her desperation to not be caught. She was running blind, heading down side streets, zig-zagging between obstacles, and all the while she was putting more and more distance between herself and her armed men. When I did catch up with her, she would be alone. 

 

“Ekkart!” she screamed, but Ekkart was a long way away, and Adam and Felix would be waiting to kill them before they could run to Sally’s aid. Men and women began to scatter out of my way as they could see I wasn’t stopping. I’m strong under this gravity, and so the few men who tried to object were simply thrown back as they attempted to block my path. Sally rounded another street corner, and now the bustling market place was gone. We had left it behind us as I continued to pursue, and as each ihn ticked by I drew closer and closer to my fully-skirted prey. 

 

Oh, but this would be good. I could imagine how scared Sally must be by now, knowing I was practically on top of her. I vaulted over another couple of crates – assisted again by the difference in gravity on Gor that gave me all the agility of an action hero – and landed perfectly in a high speed run. Ten feet and closing. Sally turned left suddenly and ran into a narrow side alley. I followed, knowing I was almost on top of her. But then as I rounded that corner, Sally struck out at me. She had stopped to stand with her back against the corner wall, and, as I ran blindly after her, she had pushed back the hood of her robes, drawn a nine inch long hair pin from her elaborately upswept hair, that now fell and cascaded down around her shoulders, and stabbed me in the arm. I turned, feeling nothing more than a prick due to the Amphetamine Dexedrine in my blood stream, and I slapped Sally hard, knocking her to the ground. The nine inch long hair pin is a common weapon used by Free Women as a last resort. 

 

I looked down at Sally as she lay there at my feet, stunned. I think I had hit her a little too hard because of the drugs. I pulled her up to her feet effortlessly, twisting her right hand so that she was forced to drop the hair pin that fell with a soft clink to the cobbled paving stones at our feet. I felt so strong now as I tore the delicate veils from her face.

 

“Miss Sally Reeve of Brighton,” I said, grinding my teeth a little as the Dexedrine really kicked in. “How lovely to see you again.” I kissed her hard on the lips as she struggled in my grasp.

 

“Don’t!” she cried as I let her come up for air. My cock was stiff like a flagpole. Whatever else was in that cocktail of drugs also seemed to act like extra strength Viagra when I had a woman in my hands.  

 

“Your men are being killed,” I said. “You’re all alone.” The Dexedrine was pounding hard in my temples. I was going to have a sore head when all this was through, but I was beginning to feel like Superman right about now. I felt so sharp and alive. I kissed her again as she continued to struggle.

 

“Don’t!” she cried again, as I tore the front of her gown. Delicate buttons and clasps came violently apart as I thrust her back against the stone wall. I heard her gasp from the impact. Her eyes were wide and in shock as I ran my right hand under her torn garments, cupping one breast. I could do anything. I had never felt so strong. 

 

And then, without any warning, I was violently sick. I turned my head, bent my body and threw up on the cobblestones. A stream of vomit came out. Sally pressed herself against the wall as she began to inch away from me. Again, I threw up with what little remined in my stomach. I suddenly felt nauseous and off balance. The alleyway seemed to be spinning as if I was on a carousel going round and round before it suddenly stopped. I tried to rise, wobbling on my feet, reaching out to steady myself with one hand against the stone wall, until Sally pushed that hand away and I dropped back to my knees. My body began to tremble in spasms. I saw the face of Sally Reeve looking down at me, her gowns torn, the bosom of her breasts clearly visible.

 

“The hair pin was poisoned, Roland,” she said as she moved out of my reach. “Men should learn to fear the sharp sting of a Free Woman.”

 

I felt a tightness in my throat as breathing became suddenly painful. Each breath felt like I was swallowing razor blades.

 

“Oh, Roland, I did warn you I would kill you if we ever met again.”