Authors: John; Norman
“Permission to come aboard,” called Demetrion.
“No,” said the fellow on the ship.
“No?” said Demetrion.
“No,” said the fellow.
Demetrion had placed one foot on the gangplank, in anticipation of boarding the ship. Two of the Pani, at the height of the gangplank, had instantly removed the longer of their two swords from their sash, and, two hands fixed on the long, tasseled handle, drew back the weapons.
Demetrion stepped back, on the pier.
“The great port of Brundisium is a neutral port, open to all shipping,” said Demetrion. “I trust you come in peace.”
“We seek one Cineas,” said the fellow on the ship, who seemed to be its captain, or, in any event, in a position of some authority.
“I know no Cineas,” said Demetrion.
“I know him,” said the stranger to me. “He is a mariner, who went ashore with me, and others, at Daphna. We arrived in Brundisium, together, oarsmen, some days ago. I soon spent my coin. But he seemed well supplied with silver.”
“Enough,” I asked, “to hire Assassins?”
The stranger looked at me, startled. “Yes,” he said.
Four Pani rapidly descended the gangplank, passed Demetrion and his party, and threaded their way through the crowd.
The stranger pressed back, unwilling, I gathered, to be noted. He did, however, scrutinize the four Pani who, intent on some mission, looking neither to the left nor right, moved quickly past.
“Do you know them?” I asked, when they had passed.
“I know one,” he said, “Tatsu, who was on the voyage west to the World’s End, to the Twelve Islands.”
“Then the ship sails still for Lord Temmu?” I said.
“I think so,” said the stranger.
“What is your business here?” called Demetrion to the fellow by the bulwarks, who seemed in authority.
That individual, however, made no answer.
“I know not your people, your land, your city, your ship, your family, your caste, your clan,” said Demetrion, “but whoever you be, if anyone, there is wharfage due in Brundisium.”
Many were about, and I fear that Demetrion sensed he had been affronted, and that his office, and station, had been too little recognized, let alone respected.
The man above Demetrion, on the deck of the strange ship, near the height of the gangway, the presumed captain or officer, drew forth from his sash a small sack and tossed it to the pier. It stuck the planks of the pier, at Demetrion’s feet, with an unmistakable sound.
This drew a response from the crowd.
“Pick it up,” said Demetrion to one of his aides, unwilling to do so himself. He was a personage of dignity, harbor master in Brundisium, perhaps the most important single person in Brundisium, or, at least, the best-known and most prominent. Brundisium has no Administrator and no Ubar. It is ruled by a Merchant Council, with its day to day affairs managed by an executive committee, chief of which is the harbor master.
Demetrion’s aides were as reluctant as he to stoop to retrieve the small, but weighty sack. The two Scribes, as well, looked away. Little love is lost between the Scribes and Merchants. The Scribes is a high caste and the Merchants is the richest caste. Each therefore regards itself as superior to the other, and each, then, would be reluctant to seem to lower itself before the other. I would have been quite willing to retrieve the sack and deliver it to Demetrion, but Phillip, my superior, was in his party, and there is, of course, the dignity, and the prestige, of the caste to maintain.
To my surprise, the stranger left my side, and slipped, unprevented, between the guardsmen, retrieved the sack, assured himself, it seemed, of its weight, which was apparently impressive, and climbed up the gangplank.
Neither of the Pani warriors at the top of the gangplank lifted their swords.
The crowd began to murmur, in astonishment.
The stranger, at the head of the gangplank, held out the sack of coin to the angular fellow, who had cast it to the feet of Demetrion.
“If this coin is what I think it is, from its weight,” he said to the spare, angular fellow, presumably the captain, or a high officer, “it is too much.”
“Give me the coin!” called Demetrion, from the pier.
Perhaps he then regretted that he had not stooped to pick up the sack himself.
“This sack, I take it,” said the stranger, “contains ten tarn disks, of double weight.”
“Fifteen,” said the angular fellow, “certified with the stamp of Ar.”
The stranger then removed one such disk from the sack, and held it up. “This,” he said, “is far too much.”
“What are such things but pieces of metal,” said the Pani.
The stranger then handed the sack, less the single tarn disk, to the angular warrior, who replaced it in his sash. The stranger then tossed the single coin which had been extracted from the sack to the planks at the feet of Demetrion, who swiftly reached down, and snatched it up.
He and his party then forced their way back through the crowd, some of whom had been close enough to see what the coin had been. “Festival!” called more than one man. “Set the public tables!” called another. “For a week!” cried another. “Free ka-la-na!” called a man. “Free paga!” cried another. “No, no!” cried Demetrion. “Only silver, only a tarsk!” But that single, weighty coin had been yellow, like
Tor-tu-Gor
.
“I am Nakamura,” said the angular fellow, presumably an officer, certainly a warrior, to the stranger.
The stranger bowed, which gesture of greeting was returned by the officer, Nakamura.
“I do not know you,” said the stranger.
“I am captain of the
River Dragon
, ship of the navy of Lord Temmu.”
“You have come to Brundisium,” said the stranger.
“I am pleased to see that you are alive,” said the officer.
“You thought I might not be?”
“One did not know.”
“You know me, then,” said the stranger.
“I think so,” said the officer. “I think you are Callias, of Jad, a Cosian, he who prevented the destruction of the great ship, he who plotted its escape, he who set designs in motion, he who engineered its flight.”
“Scarcely by myself,” said the stranger.
“Then you are he,” said the officer.
“I fear so,” said the stranger.
“Lord Okimoto was not pleased,” said the officer.
“I regret his displeasure,” said the stranger.
“For far less,” said the officer, “men have perished most unpleasantly.”
“I am sure of it,” said the stranger.
“I am charged with seeking you out,” said the officer.
“You have been successful,” said the stranger.
“Do you know why I have come?” he asked.
“I would suppose,” he said, “to kill me.”
“Not at all,” said the officer. “Rather, I bring you greetings from Lord Nishida and from Tarl Cabot, tarnsman, commander of the tarn cavalry of Lord Temmu.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Warehouse;
The Encounter with Cineas, the Agent of Tyrtaios;
The Gift of Lord Nishida and Tarl Cabot, Tarnsman
It was now four days following the docking of the Pani ship, the
River Dragon
, and the stranger and I, invited by Captain Nakamura and the harbor master, Demetrion, who now seemed on splendid terms with the captain, perhaps because commerce fosters affability, were in one of the great warehouses adjacent to the high piers. Its light was dim, but it was natural light, flowing in through a large number of high, narrow, barred windows. Slaves in transit are often kept in places with such windows, that they cannot see outside. Such windows, too, of course, are more difficult of access, both from the inside and outside. In the warehouse, on several long tables, set in rows, stretching back, toward the rear of the room, were spread varieties of goods, and such goods, indeed, overflowing, found their way to mats and cloths spread on the floor, amongst the tables. The Pani had brought much with them, for selling and trading, taken from the many officially sealed, watertight compartments of the
River Dragon
, and local Merchants, who swarmed about, within, moving from table to table, and to the floor displays, were interested, as well, in buying and selling. I had gathered that the movements of the forces of Lord Temmu were much restricted in the islands, with the result that an overseas trade, as it might slip through the blockades of Lord Yamada, might provide an access to goods otherwise less available, in particular, weaponry, missiles, cloth, leather, hemp, siege stores, tarn tackle, and such. For example, exquisite Pani ceramics, intricate carvings, and dyed silks, produced in the castle shops of Lord Temmu might bring silver in Brundisium, and be sold for gold in Ar and Turia, and the silver from Brundisium, in Brundisium, of course, might be exchanged for sinew, arrow points, fletching, larmas, tospits, sa-tarna, and such. The voyage of the
River Dragon
then, I took it, was a pioneer voyage, which might inaugurate routes of trade and perhaps open conduits of diplomacy. When land roads are closed, Thassa’s roads beckon. What cannot be secured locally may be fetched from abroad. It was a small thing, of course, a single voyage, but it is not unusual that the explorer is followed by the Merchant, just as it is not impossible that the Merchant might be followed by the soldier. Such a voyage may take several months for a single ship, but if a hundred ships are making such voyages day by day, one may well arrive daily in one port or another. One supposed that Lord Yamada, in his less-straitened circumstances, would be less motivated to seek foreign goods, but, too, one supposed, if he were once apprised of tarns, as presumably he soon would be, and might now be, he would be eager to supply himself with so valuable a military arm. One could conceive then, eventually, of the navies of warring
shoguns
extending their concerns beyond their embattled local waters, and beginning to compete for trade routes and access to distant ports.
Another commodity the Pani were interested in buying, I learned, was women. Apparently fair-skinned female slaves were rare in the islands, and often figured, amongst other gifts, in the attempts to woo political alliances. Too, one supposed they would not do badly off the block, as well. For example, a girl who might go for less than a silver tarsk in Brundisium might, presumably as something rather in the nature of an exotic slave, certainly a rare one, bring the equivalent in local currency of two or three such tarsks in the islands.
“The most beautiful of all female slaves on all Gor are sold in Brundisium,” Demetrion assured Nakamura, the captain of the
River Dragon
. Certainly this was false, as the captain doubtless surmised, but that is not to deny that some very fine slaves, the equals of any anywhere, are occasionally purchased from Brundisium blocks.
“Ahh,” said Captain Nakamura, politely.
This boast of Demetrion, on behalf of shapely, quality merchandise available in Brundisium, brought to my mind, naturally enough, a particular slave, one whom I would have liked to purchase, but could not afford. To be sure, she had not been bought in Brundisium, but in Market of Semris. On the other hand, the sales barns of Market of Semris are not far from Brundisium, and some fellows from Brundisium like to frequent them, looking for bargains, in particular, paga girls, dancers, and such.
The stranger and I, it may be recalled, had been invited to the warehouse by Demetrion, the harbor master, and Captain Nakamura, captain of the
River Dragon
, now wharfed nearby. I have little doubt that this invitation, though issued in the name of both the harbor master and the Pani captain, came about as a result of the captain’s request. Demetrion knew little more of the stranger, the Cosian, Callias of Jad, than the fact that he may have cost the harbor, or, better, its administration, a number of golden tarn disks, of double weight. But, even so, a single such disk had been welcome. Demetrion knew me by sight, but by little more, from the registry. The captain, for some reason, had wished for the stranger to stay on board the
River Dragon
, but, as I would not be allowed to do so, as well, the stranger declined the offer.
“He offered me money, when I had no money,” he told the captain, “he offered me lodging, when I had no lodging.”
“He is not Pani,” said the captain.
“Neither am I,” said the stranger.
“But,” said the captain, “you were of the ship.”
“He has been seen with me,” said the stranger. “If I am in danger, so, too, is he.”
“That is possible,” said the captain.
“Give me a sword,” said the stranger.
A blade was brought, with its shoulder strap and sheath. It was not a Pani sword, but a
gladius
, a weapon with which, I took it, the stranger would be familiar.
“Do not sell it,” said the captain.
The stranger smiled, and turned to me, who stood at the foot of the gangway. “Would you have a guest?” he asked.
“Welcome,” I said.
My name was given to the captain. “The harbor office will know his residence,” said the stranger.