Renegades of Gor (34 page)

The warder laughed.

Did the fellow not know the Lady Claudia was a free woman? It seemed to me he

handled her rather roughly, given that she was free. She was not, after all, a

slave girl.

The rope, then, in coil after coil, was wrapped about the Lady Claudia. It was

in this fashion, I had gathered, from her own account of her capture, that she

had been bound on the wall, and brought before Aemilianus. This touch was

doubtless to remind her of the events of that evening.

“Make it tight!” said the warder.

Lady Claudia winced as the ropes were drawn about her.

“Now the leash and collar!” said the warder.

In a moment, then, the leash and collar were fastened on her. She then knelt

there, in the center of the cell, heavily bound, collared, the leash dangling

down before the ropes bound about her.

“Splendid!” said the warder.

Tears ran down Lady Claudia’s cheeks. She looked at me, and smiled. She pursed

her lips a little, kissing softly, almost imperceptibly, at me. I watched, lying

in the straw, my eyes half closed. I did not respond to her tiny, pathetic

gesture. It interested me, however, that she bore me no ill will. Had I not led

her to believe that I might be of assistance to her? Had I not tried to keep up

her courage? But I realized now she had never expected me, really, in the moment

of truth, so to speak, to act. It would be pointless.

“How touching!” said the warder.

(pg.231) I made as though to try to rise, to my knees, my head down. It seemed I

could not manage this.

“Remain where you are,” said one of the fellows with a crossbow.

“He is too weak to do anything,” said the warder. “He cannot even stand.” She

then went to stand before Lady Claudia. “The spear, my dear Claudia,” she said,

“is a single piece of solid, polished metal. It is very long, and less than a

hort thick. It is tapered to a point. It fits in a mount.”

Lady Claudia knelt there, with her eyes closed.

I made as though, again, to try to rise. One of the guards looked at me, and

then looked away.

“Glory to Ar!” snarled the warder.

“Glory to Ar,” wept Lady Claudia.

“Do you know what we are waiting for?” asked the warder of Lady Claudia.

“No,” whispered Lady Claudia.

There was then a sudden impact somewhere on the wall, perhaps not seventy-five

feet from where we were.

“That was close,” said one of the guards, uneasily.

As I had expected they would, they had more to worry about than what went on in

the cell.

Again I struggled to my knees. This time I remained there, head down, as though

unable to move.

“Stay where you are,” said one of the guards. I was about seven or eight feet

from him.

“We are waiting for the executioner to come for you,” said the warder,

delightedly. “He will come to fetch you, and take you to the wall, to the

spear.”

Lady Claudia put down her head.

“Glory to Ar!” cried the warder.

“Glory to Ar,” said Lady Claudia. She had her eyes closed. That, I thought, was

fortunate. The nearest guard looked at me, and then glanced back to the two

women. The guards had been in the cell some time, at least a few Ehn. This, I

had thought, would put them at their ease. The expectation of resistance, of

course, is at its height early. If it were to rise again, which I did not really

expect, or not significantly, under the current circumstances, presumably that

would be shortly before their departure from the cell. They were now awaiting

the arrival of the executioner, who (pg.232) was to fetch Lady Claudia to the

spear. Their expectation of resistance, now, I thought, might be at its low. To

be sure, that is an excellent time to be particularly prepared. Yet it is

impossible to maintain an attitude of full alertness for an extended period of

time. It is psychologically impossible. This meant that the initiative, in this

situation, was mine. If they had expected resistance, of course, they might have

thought, appropriately enough, that I might choose to act before the arrival of

the executioner, as that would mean an additional fellow to deal with.

I had not, of course, realized that the executioner would come to the cell. If I

had given the matter much thought, I would have supposed that he, or they, would

wait on the wall. Such customs, I supposed, would differ from city to city. I

was not pleased to hear about the pending arrival of the executioner, of course,

as that might set me an additional problem, one I had not anticipated and one I

certainly did not welcome.

It was not a mistake that I had lain in the straw where I had. I had, the day

before, found a ridge in the stones there which would give me leverage,

something to push away from. Too, I was barefoot. I would not slip. I lifted my

head, dully, as though groggily, to look at the guards. They were half starved.

Their reflexes, I was sure, would be slow. They would not have their full

strength. The nearest guard looked at me, again, and I returned his gaze, dully.

He then glanced back at the women once more.

“He is very skilled at his work,” said the warder to Lady Claudia. :He will put

you on the spear so gently that you will last a long time.”

Lady Claudia kept her eyes closed, and she shuddered.

“But if her wants to hurry a little,” said the warder, “he will tie weights on

your legs.”

Lady Claudia sobbed.

“How pretty you look, kneeling there, my dear, all tied up, and in your collar,”

she said. “Do not fret. He will be here soon! You will then be taken to the

spear! You do not have long to wait! You will look amusing, wriggling on it!

Glory to Ar! Glory to Ar!”

“Glory to Ar!” wept Lady Claudia.

At that instant I lunged forward and the nearest guard had (pg.233) barely time

to turn his head before I caught him, and his fellow, taking them together,

striking them with great force, I sprinting, thrusting, they off balance, and

blasted them back, one loosened, sprung quarrel skittering about the room like a

frightened animal, the other smote from the guide into the straw, against the

wall, and I snarled, the noise not in that moment seeming human, and it was the

terribleness of the warrior’s exhilaration that was that instant in my heart,

nostrils and mouth, and, one with each hand, struck back their heads against the

stone. Had they not been helmeted their brains would have been on the stone.

In the same moments I had freed the sword of one of them and I turned,

crouching, snarling, to face the man near Lady Claudia. His face was white.

Perhaps I seemed then to him more beast than man. I did not take my eyes from

him and the door. The warder, cut off, too, from the door, had fled behind him.

He weakly half drew his sword but before it could clear the sheath I was upon

him, within his guard. He released the hilt. The blade fell back, into the

sheath. I turned and kicked back and he grunted, collapsing. The warder bolted

for the door but I caught her at the portal by the back of the neck and lifted

her up and turned, and then flung her stumbling back toward the far wall. I then

returned to the fallen warrior, and bent over him. He was gasping. His eyes were

wild. Not taking my eyes from the warder, who now crouched down, against the

outside wall, her eyes wide with terror over the veil, I seized him by the back

of the neck, below the helmet, and lifted his head a few inches from the floor.

He could offer no resistance. I then struck his head, back, in the helmet, on

the stones.

“You have killed them, you have killed them all!” said the warder.

“No,” I said. The first two had been in the greatest danger, but their helmets

had saved them. It was not that I had lost control of myself in the rush of that

first moment. I had not. It was rather that, in the exigencies of the situation,

it had not been my intention to take any chances with them. But their helmets

had saved them.

“Lie down,” I said to the warder, “on your belly, in the (pg.234) straw, your

head to the wall. Spread your legs as widely as you can. Cover your head with

your hands and arms.”

She sobbed, but did so. In this fashion she could not see what might transpire

behind her, she could not easily rise, and she would have some protection from

debris, if the outside of the cell wall should be struck.

I then stripped the clothing and accouterments from the fellow I had just

struck, and donned them. I did, however, exchange swords, removing his from its

scabbard and placing therein the one I had taken from the other guard. It was a

looser fit, which pleased me.

There was an impacting on the side of the citadel, some hundred or so feet away.

I could feel the jar, however, through the floor. The warder, over by the wall,

moaned, her hands and arms over her head. I then put the three guards together,

in a corner of the cell, and heaped straw over them. They could not be seen from

the observation panel.

I then turned to the Lady Claudia who still knelt as she had been placed. Her

eyes were wide. There must have been fifty coils of rope wound tightly about her

fair person. On her neck was the collar; from it dangled the leash.

“Greetings,” I said.

“You must flee!” she whispered. “Save yourself! I am known! Do not concern

yourself for me!”

I removed the leash and collar from her.

“Do not stop for me!” she begged. “Flee!”

I began to remove the rope from her.

“The executioner may arrive at any moment,” she said, miserably.

“He is more likely to think I am binding you, then unbinding you,” I said.

She moaned.

Then she was free of the rope. I looked at her, closely, as a master at a slave,

and she shrank back. I saw that, indeed, she would bring a high price in a slave

market.

“You must leave me behind!” she said.

“You are too pretty to leave behind,” I said.

She looked at me, wildly, elatedly.

“Yes,” I said.

She laughed, and smiled at me, through tears. “I am pleased if master finds me

pleasing,” she whispered.

(pg.235) “Where did you ever hear talk like that?” I asked.

“I once heard a slave girl speak so to her master,” she said.

“And what did you do then?” I asked.

“I ran home to my bed,” she said, “to strike it with my fists, and to weep and

squirm in frustration.”

“Such words are appropriate for you, too, to say,” I said.

“I know!” she said. “I know!”

I looked in the fellow’s wallet, which I now wore at my belt. There was, as I

had hoped, a crust of bread in it. Such things, in Ar’s Station, in these days,

might be kept in such places. It might be his secret horde, or day’s ration. It

was probably worth more to him than gold. I gave it to Lady Claudia and she,

with two hands, gratefully, thrust it in her mouth, crumbs at the side of her

mouth. “Look in the pouches of those other fellows, too,” I said. “They might

have some food. If so, eat it. Then come join me.”

Quickly she did as she was told. It amused me to see with what alacrity she

sprang up to do my bidding. It was as though, suddenly, she was a new person.

I then went to stand near our warder, lying on her stomach in the straw, her

head to the wall, her legs spread, her head covered with her hands and arms.

Aware of my approach she widened her legs further. This pulled her artfully

contrived rage, with their points, higher on her legs. I noted that she had

excellent calves and ankles.

“There is food here,” called Lady Claudia, softly, elatedly, from where she

crouched, near the guards.

“Good,” I said. “Eat it.”

She thrust the bit of food into her mouth, feeding on it like a voracious little

animal. She fed with the eagerness of a half-starved slave girl.

I looked down at the warder. “Put your legs together,” I said, “and your arms at

your sides, palms up.”

She obeyed.

I then crouched down, beside her.

She moved, uneasily, but kept position.

“These rags,’ I said, ‘are doubtless contrived in such a way that they may

easily be removed.”

She squirmed in anger.

I did not touch them, however.

(pg.236) I pulled back the warder’s scarflike turban which, I had assumed, was

worn to cover and hide a closely cropped head.

“OH!” she said. To my surprise, however, her hair, loosened from under the

turban, would have, had she been standing, fallen well beneath her shoulders.

“Oh,” said Lady Claudia, interested, come now to my side, a piece of crust in

her hand.

“Yes,” I said. “Her hair has not been cropped.”

The warder squirmed a little, angrily.

“As I recall,” I said to Lady Claudia, “you had not had yours cut either.”

“No,” said Lady Claudia, smiling. “I did not want it cut. I was too vain. I was

too proud of it. I thought it too pretty to want to look like one of those girls

who carries water in a quarry, or works in a mill or laundry, in the heat. Let

other women sacrifice their hair, not me. But when I was caught on the wall it

was cut quickly enough.”

“Then as a punishment,” I said.

“Doubtless,” she said, “but, too, they had need of catapult cordage.”