Plunder of Gor (55 page)

“The matter,” asked a fellow, in the white and gold, “should be mentioned to the Ubar?”

“Of course,” said Decius Albus. “We have no secrets from great Marlenus, our beloved Ubar. Naturally he will be kept informed of all proposed arrangements in a suitably prepared memorandum, long before we consider drafting a formal document, one to be submitted for his review, signature, and seal.”

“Yes, noble Albus,” said the man, bowing and withdrawing.

It took but a few moments for the throng to depart, and then Decius Albus, Kurik, and myself were alone.

“I see,” said Kurik, “you must concern yourself with spies.”

“Yes,
ela
,” said Decius Albus. “I may be watched. Careful attention, I fear, is devoted to whom I see, and, indeed, to whom I fail to see.”

“I see,” said Kurik.

“I think not,” said Decius Albus. “I have in mind economic matters. Many merchant houses keep spies, to appraise themselves of the investments, plans, and ventures of competitors. Many a fortune has been made by the utilization of information not yet publicly available. Even now I expect several of our friends are hastening to locate Mytilene, that they may investigate hitherto unnoted opportunities.”

“I expect they will encounter some difficulty in doing so,” said Kurik.

“They will be frustrated,” said Decius Albus, “but they will merely suspect that Mytilene is a code name on which we had agreed, to conceal the identity of an actual city. I represent business interests in this city, some even close to the throne, that prefer to be first to the feast.”

“As the larl?” said Kurik.

“Of course,” said Decius Albus.

“Deception, it seems,” said Kurik, “has its role in business as well as in war.”

“Business is war,” said Decius Albus.

“I meant, of course,” said Kurik, “other sorts of spies.”

“Oh, yes,” said Decius Albus. “Those we kill.”

“Clearly I am here in the interests of my principal,” said Kurik.

“Understood, of course,” said Decius Albus, affably. “Am I to address you as Tenrik of Siba, or Kurik, of Victoria?”

“‘Tenrik' will do,” said my master.

“You have a pretty slave,” said Decius Albus.

“There are thousands better,” said my master, which remark seemed to me unnecessary. Surely the remark of Decius Albus might have been responded to more simply, as with a polite acknowledgement.

“To the business at hand,” said Decius Albus.

“By all means,” said Kurik.

Decius Albus then turned about, and clapped his hands, twice, and a portal opened behind the dais, and three individuals entered the room, two men and a woman, a free woman, and approached the round table, that appointed with identical chairs.

“Drusus Andronicus,” announced Decius Albus, “agent and advisor, loyal and reliable servitor, swordsman, warrior. I think he may be known to your brand slut.”

“That is my understanding,” said Kurik. “Tal, noble Andronicus.”

Drusus looked to Decius Albus.

“Tenrik of Siba,” said Decius Albus.

“Tal,” said Drusus, bowing.

I kept my head down. I did not care to meet the eyes of the man who had made such a fool of me.

Decius Albus then turned to the second man who had entered. He was robed in white and gold.

“Meet Marcellus, of Ar, Dealer in Fabrics and Furs,” said Decius Albus, to Kurik.

“This Marcellus,” said Kurik, “is mistaken in his robing. He should be clad in a more somber hue.”

“That is not always wise,” said Decius Albus.

“At least,” said Kurik, “he does not have the dagger fixed upon his brow.”

“Not now,” said he who had been introduced as Marcellus of Ar, almost a hiss.

“Such as he,” said Kurik, “like the vart, is a creature of the night.”

“But admire the fine robes, surely, the shimmering white, the gloss of the gold,” said Decius Albus, smiling.

“True colors,” said Kurik, “are those that clothe the heart.”

“I gather you may have met,” said Decius Albus.

“Tyrtaios,” said Kurik, “one of my few acquaintances from the black caste.”

“I see,” said Decius Albus.

“I gather you may not have been fully informed,” said Kurik, “of all that occurred in Brundisium.”

“Perhaps not,” said Decius Albus.

“I fear that our friend Tyrtaios would have disappointed you,” said Kurik, “in being outwitted, in being discommoded, in being struck unconscious, in being bound, in failing to fulfill his charge, in botching his mission.”

“I was not aware of all this,” said Decius Albus.

“I suspected you might have been provided with a different account of the proceedings,” said Kurik.

“Somewhat,” said Decius Albus.

The hand of Tyrtaios slipped within his robes, where I glimpsed a sheath fastened athwart the left shoulder. His hand was on the hilt of the housed dagger. He removed his hand from the hilt, responding, however reluctantly, to a slight, dismissive, admonitory gesture from Decius Albus.

“I trust he refused to accept his fee,” said Kurik.

“But, happily,” said Decius Albus, “things seem to have turned out well, even splendidly.”

“Due to the independent action of others,” said Kurik.

“Perhaps we shall meet, anon,” said Tyrtaios, to Kurik.

“I am sure you look forward more eagerly than I to such a pleasure,” said Kurik.

“Come now,” said Decius Albus. “We are all friends here.” He then turned to the free woman who had accompanied Drusus and Tyrtaios into the room. She, too, as Tyrtaios, wore white and gold. She was blond, and unveiled. I knew her well, from a wharf in Victoria, from a street in Ar. I looked up at her, as a slave looks upon a free woman, with awe, trepidation, and fear, but also with a slave's speculation, and appraisal. Is she truly so great, and important? What would she bring, stripped, on the block? Would she be worth bidding on? The particular nature of these speculations may be most germane to slaves, whose chains and collars have well accustomed them to thinking of themselves as properties and merchandise, and other members of their sex, as well, but I suspect similar speculations are not unknown to men. What free man, looking upon a free woman of possible interest, does not, in his imagination, consider her as a slave, how she might look, barefoot in a tunic, a collar on her neck? Does he not idly ponder how she might look, bellied and bound before him? Does he not wonder, sometimes, what might be the feel of her small tongue, licking his feet? What free woman, one of possible interest, has not, in the imagination of a thousand men, been a thousand times undressed and put upon a block? After all, even in the glory of her freedom, she is a woman, and a member of the slave sex. “May I present my lovely colleague, the noble Lady Alexina, of the House of Portia, in Victoria?”

“I am delighted, but puzzled,” said Kurik, bowing.

“Puzzled?” asked Decius Albus.

“I do not believe I am known to the noble lady, or she to me, and yet she, though certainly to my gratification, chooses to appear before me, a stranger, unveiled,” said Kurik.

The Lady Alexina smiled.

She was rather lovely.

I hated her.

“Not a stranger,” said Decius Albus. “We are all friends here.”

Free women, of course, play games with their veils, with their adjustings and slackenings, and raisings, and lowerings, much as might be done with fans, or even a parasol. Too, to my interest, and amusement, I fear, the Lady Alexina carried, even here, indoors, within the House of a Hundred Corridors, that parasol I had seen her carry first on a street in Ar. Was the sun so bright in this room? Did she fear a sudden torrent of rain might fall from the ceiling, from which a parasol, even so improbable a defense, might serve to protect her?

“Tenrik, of Siba,” said Decius Albus.

“I am delighted,” said the Lady Alexina. I saw the switch was still fastened at her belt.

“The House of Portia is well known for its jewelries,” said Kurik.

“I am flattered that you are familiar with the house,” said the Lady Alexina, I thought somewhat apprehensively.

“Moderately so,” said Kurik. “I have sold more than one display slave to the Lady Portia,” said Kurik.

“And they were lovely indeed,” she said.

“Does the Lady Portia still ship from the wharf of Terence?” he asked.

“Less frequently now,” she said.

“It is a famous house,” said Kurik to Decius Albus. “It is one of the few houses this far north where one can hope to obtain jewelries fashioned in the shops of Schendi and Turia.”

“We import work from a hundred cities,” she said.

“This is all very interesting,” said Decius Albus, “but let us attend to business.”

“By all means,” said Kurik.

The free persons then took seats about the round table, and I knelt near my master, a bit behind him and to the left.

“I see Lord Grendel did not come himself,” said Decius Albus.

“Are you surprised?” asked Kurik.

About the table were six curule chairs, five of which would be occupied, those by Decius Albus; Drusus Andronicus; Tyrtaios; Kurik of Victoria, my master; and the Lady Alexina. The sixth chair, I gathered, was intended to be largely honorary, representing a place for the absent Lord Grendel. Surely it was too small for such a beast to crouch within it.

“No,” said Decius Albus.

“Nor in attendance,” said Kurik, “are certain allies of yours.”

“Are you surprised?” asked Decius Albus.

“No,” said Kurik.

“Our friends might attract attention in the streets,” said Decius Albus. “Too, our friends commonly have short tempers, and I think we might do better without them. Certainly, we need no ring challenges in the house.”

I did not understand this remark.

“No,” said Kurik.

“Are you authorized to negotiate?” asked Decius Albus.

“No,” said Kurik, “merely to convey proposed arrangements to Lord Grendel, and return to you his responses.”

“That is what I supposed,” said Decius Albus. “You are well aware, I trust, that the Lady Bina, whom we suppose to be of interest to Lord Grendel, is in our power.”

“I intend no impugning of your honor,” said Kurik, “but my principal, understandably, might wish to be assured on that point.”

Tyrtaios made an angry noise.

“And wisely,” said Decius Albus. “Lady Alexina,” he said.

The Lady Alexina drew forth, from within her robes, a veil, a house veil, I think, and handed it to Kurik, who put it in his pouch.

“Lord Grendel,” said Decius Albus, “will doubtless recognize the veil, and, I suspect, will by scent, as well, verify its authenticity.”

“I am sure of it,” said Kurik.

“The terms of my principal—,” said Decius Albus.

“Lord Agamemnon,” said Kurik.

“Quite,” said Decius Albus, “are simple—we will return the Lady Bina to the care of your principal, Lord Grendel, well and unharmed, in exchange for his oath, that he will be a loyal and active servitor to Lord Agamemnon, obedient and zealous in his service.”

“And if he refuses to give his oath?” asked Kurik.

“Then the Lady Bina will suffer the consequences,” said Decius Albus.

“Torture?” asked Kurik.

“More likely, she would be run for our friends,” said the Lady Alexina. “They enjoy such sport, taking prey in flight, and then feeding.”

“Lord Grendel fought against Lord Agamemnon,” said Kurik.

“An indiscretion that will be overlooked,” said Decius Albus.

“What if he should give his oath, and then betray it?” asked Kurik.

“He will not,” said Decius Albus, “he is Kur, or much like a Kur.”

“Honor is stupid,” said Tyrtaios, “but it is a useful device for controlling and manipulating fools.”

“Too,” said the Lady Alexina, “the Lady Bina remains vulnerable. Acquired once, she may be acquired again.”

“I shall convey your proposal to Lord Grendel,” said Kurik, beginning to rise.

“No, tarry, be here a bit, a moment,” said Decius Albus, placing his hand gently on Kurik's arm.

Kurik resumed his seat.

“I am distressed,” said Decius Albus, drawing back his hand, as though in disappointment. “You do not seem pleased.”

“Forgive me, noble Albus,” said Kurik, “but I find little here in which to rejoice.”

“You are a realist,” said Decius Albus. “I am a realist. One does what one can, in what conditions obtain. The world is as it is. You may like it or not. It does not care. You may be happy or not. It is up to you. It is more pleasant to be happy. Let us all be friends.”

“Dally, handsome Tenrik, noble citizen of Siba,” said the Lady Alexina, gracefully placing her dropped veil over her left shoulder, “an exquisite ka-la-na, from the terraces of Cos, waits to be served.”

Kurik inclined his head, politely.

“From the terraces of Naxos, on Cos,” she said.

“Ah!” said Kurik, lifting his head.

I gathered this beverage might be of some special interest.

They looked into one another's eyes. Free persons may do this with impunity.

She dared to place her small hand on his.

I hated her. I hated her!

How could I compete with her, half-naked, in a tunic, collared, on my knees?

“A single bottle,” said Decius Albus, “may cost as much as a golden tarsk.”

Drusus Andronicus, who had remained discreetly silent, then rose to his feet, and clapped his hands together, sharply, twice.

The portal behind the dais then opened again, and a slave entered, bearing a tray, on which were five, and only five, small glasses, and a small decanter of some ruby beverage, which, I gathered, must be that to which the Lady Alexina had alluded.