Nomads of Gor (62 page)

         
Tuchuks. This pleased her, as I guessed anything would which

         
was contrary to the interests of the Turian merchant, for

         
whom she entertained the greatest hatred.

         
"Is this truly all you travel" she asked, pointing at the pile

         
of stones.

          
"Yes," I said.

         
"Poor warrior," said she, her eyes smiling over the veil,

         
"you do not even have enough to pay for the use of a skilled

         
slave girl."

           
"That is true," I admitted.

         
Slit laughed anti with an easy motion dropped the veil

         
from her face and shook her head, freeing her hair. She held

         
out her hands. "I am only a poor free woman," said she, "but

         
might I not do?"

         
I took her hands and drew her to me, and into my arms.

         
"You are very beautiful, Dina of Turia," I said to her.

         
For four days I remained with the girl, and each day, once

         
at noon and once in the evening, we would stroll by one or

  
more of the gates of Turia, to see if the guards might now be

  
less vigilant than they had been the time before. To my

  
disappointment, they continued to check every outgoing per-

  
son and wagon with great care, demanding proof of identity

  
and business. When there was the least doubt, the individual

  
was detained for interrogation by an officer of the guard. On

  
the other hand I noted, irritably, that incoming individuals

  
and wagons were waved ahead with hardly a glance. Dina

  
and myself attracted little attention from guardsmen or men-

  
at-arms. My hair was now black; I wore the tunic of the

  
Bakers; and I was accompanied by a woman.

  
Several times criers had passed through the streets shouting

  
that I was still at large and calling out my description.

  
Once two guardsmen came to the shop, searching it as I

  
expect most other structures in the city were searched. Dur-

  
ing this time I climbed out a back window facing another

  
building, and hoisted myself to the flat roof of the shop,

  
returning by the same route when they had gone.

  
I had, almost from the first in Kamchak's wagon, been

  
truly fond of Dina, and I think she of me. She was truly a

  
fine, spirited girl, quick-witted, warm-hearted, intelligent and

  
brave. I admired her and feared for her. I knew, though I

  
did not speak of it with her, that she was willingly risking her

  
life to shelter me in her native city. Indeed, it is possible I

  
might have died the first night in Turia had it not been that

  
Dina had seen me, followed me and in my time of need

  
boldly stood forth as my ally. In thinking of her I realized

  
how foolish are certain of the Gorean prejudices with respect

  
to the matter of caste. The Caste of Bakers is not regarded

  
as a high caste, to which one looks for nobility and such; and

  
yet her father and her brothers, outnumbered, had fought

  
and died for their tiny shop; and this courageous girl, with a

  
valor I might not have expected of many warriors, weapon-

  
less, alone and friendless, had immediately, asking nothing in

  
return, leaped to my aid, giving me the protection of her

  
home, and her silence, placing at my disposal her knowledge

  
of the city and whatever resources might be hers to com-

  
mand.

  
When Dina was about her own business, shopping for her

  
clients, usually in the early morning and the late afternoon, I

  
would remain in the rooms above the shop. There I thought

  
long on the matter of the egg of Priest-Kings and the House

  
of Saphrar. In time I would leave the city when I thought it

  
safe and return to the wagons, obtain the tarn and then

        
make a strike for the egg. I did not give myself, however,

        
much hope of success in so desperate a venture. I lived in

        
constant fear that the gray man he with eyes like glass

        
would come to Turia on tarnback and acquire, before I could

        
act, the golden sphere for which so much had been risked,

        
for which apparently more than one man had died.

        
Sometimes Dina and I, in our walking about the city,

        
would ascend the high walls and look out over the plains.

        
There was no objection to this on the part of anyone,

        
provided entry into the guard stations was not attempted.

        
Indeed, the broad walk, some thirty feet wide, within the

        
high walls of Turia, with the view over the plains, is a

        
favorite promenade of Turian couples. During times of dan-

        
ger or siege, of course, none but military personnel or civilian

        
defenders are permitted on the walls.

        
"You seem troubled, Tarl Cabot," said Dina, by my side,

        
looking with me out over the prairie.

          
"It is true, my Dina," said I.

        
"You fear the object you seek will leave the city before

        
you can obtain it?" she asked.

          
"Yes," I said, "I fear that."

          
"You wish to leave the city tonight?" she asked.

          
"I think perhaps I shall," I said.

        
She knew as well as I that the guards were still questioning

        
those who would depart from Turia, but she knew too, as I,

        
that each day, each hour, I remained in Turia counted

        
against me.

          
"It is my hope that you will be successful," she said.

        
I put my arm about her and together we looked out over

        
the parapet.

        
"Look," I said, "there comes a single merchant wagon it

        
must be safe now on the plains."

        
"The Tuchuks are gone," she said. And she added, "I shall

        
miss you, Tart Cabot."

          
"I shall miss you, too, my Dina of Turia," I told her.

        
In no hurry to depart from the wall, we stood together

        
there. It was shortly before the tenth Gorean hour, or noon

        
of the Gorean day.

        
We stood on the wall near the main gate of Turia, through

        
which I had entered the city some four days ago, the morning

        
after the departure of the Tuchuk wagons for the pastures

        
this side of the Ta-Thassa Mountains, beyond which lay the

        
vast, gleaming Thassa itself.

          
I watched the merchant wagon, large and heavy, wide,

 
with planked sides painted alternately white and gold, cov-

 
ered with a white and gold rain canvas. It was drawn not by

 
the draft tharlarion like most merchant wagons but, like

 
some, by four brown bask.

  
"How will you leave the city?" asked Dina.

  
"By rope," I said. "And on foot."

 
She leaned over the parapet, looking skeptically down at

 
the stones some hundred feet below.

 
"It will take time," she said, "and the walls are patrolled

 
closely after sundown, and lit by torches." She looked at me.

 
"And you will he on foot," she said. "You know we have

 
hunting sleen in Turia?"

  
"Yes," 1 said, "I know."

 
"It is unfortunate," she said, "that you do not have a swift

 
kaiila and then you might, in- broad daylight, hurtle past the

 
guards and make your way into the prairie."

 
"Even could I steal a kaiila or tharlarion," I said, "there

 
are tarnsmen"

  
"Yes," she said, "that is true."

 
; Tarnsmen would have little difficulty in finding a rider and

 
mount on the open prairie near Turia. It was almost certain

 
they would be flying within minutes after an alarm was

 
sounded, even though they need be summoned from the

 
baths, the Paga taverns, the gaming rooms of Turia, in which

 
of late, the siege over, they had been freely spending their

 
mercenary gold, much to the delight of Turians. In a few

 
days, their recreations complete, I expected Ha-Keel would

 
weigh up his gold, marshal his men and withdraw through

 
the clouds from the city. I, of course, did not wish to wait a

 
few days or more or however long it might take Ha-Keel

 
to rest his men, square his accounts with Saphrar and depart.

 
The heavy merchant wagon was near the main gate now

 
and it was being waved forward.

 
I looked out over the prairie, in the direction that had

 
been taken by the Tuchuk wagons. Some five days now they

 
had been gone. It had seemed strange to me that Kamchak,

 
the resolute, implacable Kamchak of the Tuchuks, had so

 
soon surrendered his assault on the city not that I expected

 
it would have been, if prolonged, successful. Indeed, 1 re-

 
spected his wisdom withdrawing in the face of a situation in

 
which there was nothing to be gained and, considering the

 
vulnerability of the wagons and bask to tarnsmen, much to

 
be lost. He had done the wise thing. But how it must have

 
hurt him, he, Kamchak, to turn the wagons and withdraw

         
from Turia, leaving Kutaituchik unrevenged and Saphrar of

         
Turia triumphant. It had been, in its way, a courageous thing