"The palace, then,” said a Kur, “was invested."
"The chains of Lord Arcesilaus were struck off, and he was carried to the habitats, that he might be treated,” said another.
"Rejoicing took place,” said another.
"Insurrectionists and loyalists embraced, crying out with joy,” said another.
"But then terror seized all,” said another, “for locks were blown and swarming into the world, to the rolling of drums and the blast of war horns, from a hundred ports, were warriors from the world which Agamemnon had menaced, and whose fleet, so beautifully generaled, had decimated ours."
"All seemed lost,” said a Kur.
"Surely, surprised, taken unawares, all would be slain by that fleet's general,” said another.
"The world had fallen!"
"No quarter would be given, no mercy shown!"
"But it was not to be,” said another Kur. “When it was clear that Agamemnon was no longer in power, that this reversal had come about, the enemy put up its arms, for their foe, you see, was not we, the folk, but he who had been the misleader and tyrant of the folk, Lord Agamemnon. Their war, it seems, was not with us, at all, but with our common foe, Lord Agamemnon."
"The great general, their formidable leader, one of the fiercest and most formidable in all the many steel worlds, ordered his banner furled, the drums and war horns silenced."
"Fraternization took place, and rejoicing,” said another Kur, “but the palace remained apart, invested."
"What is the name of this foreign general, so adept, so feared, so renowned and terrible?” asked Cabot.
"Zarendargar,” said a Kur.
"It is said he asked for you,” said a Kur.
"Do you know him?” asked a Kur.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"How can that be?” asked a Kur.
"Once,” said Cabot, “long ago, in another place, far away, we shared paga."
"When the palace was forced,” said another Kur, “it was found empty."
"Many secret passages were located, which led from the palace,” said another.
"Thus, Agamemnon, and many of his adherents, escaped."
"Twice,” said a Kur, “the world was again in jeopardy, for minions of Agamemnon were surprised in the planting of mighty charges, which, if detonated, would have opened the world to the outside."
"He would destroy the world, rather than have it no longer his,” said Cabot.
"But even his own Kurii, elsewhere in a dozen places, surrendered themselves, and the charges which had been committed to them, rather than perform so hideous and monstrous a deed."
"It would not be Kur,” said a Kur.
"I am pleased,” said Cabot.
"But Agamemnon himself,” said a Kur, “would prefer the forfeiture of a world to the loss of a throne."
"Perhaps even to the least diminution of his power,” said another.
"Such a deed, the destruction of a world, would be his last, grand act,” said a Kur, “a fitting conclusion to his reign."
"Even were such a charge detonated,” said a Kur, “it would not necessarily entail the end of the world."
"No,” said another. “Certainly meteoritic impacts have been anticipated, and prepared for."
"Agamemnon is gone?” said Cabot.
"Yes,” said a Kur.
"Where might he be?” asked Cabot.
"We do not know,” said a Kur.
"Where is Flavion?” asked Cabot.
"The scout?"
"The traitor?"
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"We do not know,” said another.
"In hiding,” said another.
"He cannot be found,” said another.
"I know one who can find him,” said Cabot.
"You have been called for, by Zarendargar, currently the military governor of the world,” said a Kur.
"You should proceed to him, at once,” said another.
"Surely you will do so,” said Peisistratus.
"Convey to him my regards,” said Cabot. “I have something to attend to first."
"But he is governor, he is Zarendargar!” exclaimed a Kur.
"He will understand,” said Cabot. “We have shared paga."
"What will you be about?” asked Archon.
"I think I will go hunting,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps Lord Grendel might like to join you in your hunt?” said Peisistratus.
"I would prefer not to risk him,” said Cabot.
"The hunt will be dangerous?” asked Peisistratus.
"I think so,” said Cabot.
"I am sure he would wish to accompany you,” said Peisistratus.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"Lord Grendel is in the palace,” said a Kur, “assisting in the reorganization and distribution of power."
"Do not inform him of my absence,” said Cabot.
"As you wish,” said Peisistratus, reluctantly.
"Put up a discipline post, somewhere aside, in the camp,” said Cabot, “to which a slave might be tied."
"Excellent,” said Peisistratus. “It will be good for our girls to see such a post."
"You have in mind a particular slave?” asked Archon.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"It might serve for any of them,” said Archon.
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"You will not leave until the morning,” said Peisistratus.
"No,” said Cabot.
"Tonight,” said Peisistratus, “we feast."
"In the Gorean manner, I trust,” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” smiled Peisistratus.
"I have not seen Corinna dance since the pleasure cylinder,” said Cabot.
"If she does not dance well,” said Peisistratus, “she will be thrown no food."
Chapter, the Seventieth:
FLAVION
It may be recalled, from some time ago, that Cabot, perhaps surprisingly, given that he stood high in the forest camp, and was of the scarlet caste, had tended to the grooming of the scout, Flavion, an office commonly attended to, amongst the lords, by clients and sycophants, and, most often, in most cases, including that of the lords, by menials, in particular, human females, pets, and slaves. Cabot had performed this office with diligence, cleaning the fur with his fingers, and then brushing and combing it. Indeed, he had even wiped the fur down with a soft cloth, for several Ehn, until it shone with a high, oily gloss. The cloth with which he had performed this task he had saved, wrapping it tightly in a leather wrapper which had been kept in his wallet, or pouch. It may also be recalled that his colleague, Ramar, so to speak, was a carefully bred domestic sleen, of unusual size and ferocity. Indeed, such animals are often used to hunt and kill wild sleen. Ramar, who had served as an arena animal, successful again and again, had also been trained, as would have been expected of most domestic sleen, in a number of other behaviors. He could, for example, hunt a quarry, keep it in place, drive it, and kill it.
The sudden snap of the metal was followed, almost instantly, by a long, weird scream of Kur pain.
"Well done, Ramar,” whispered Cabot.
The sleen had grasped Cabot's intention, as he had hoped. First, Ramar had been given the scent from the cloth, and, though the scent was old, it was not difficult for a sleen to follow once it had picked it up, which it had, in the forest. They had then, at a distance, trailed their unsuspecting quarry. A mere word from Cabot dissuaded the mighty animal, once it was within some hundreds of yards of its prey, from rushing forward and attacking it. At this point most domestic sleen would require a leash. Ramar was doubtless muchly puzzled by this arrest of the chase, but he offered no resistance to Cabot's will, though he doubtless suspected that some fault or inadvertence lay within it. That night, giving the sleen the “stay” command, Cabot had made his way to the quarry's camp, and, silently, attended to its reconnoitering. The quarry was alone. This did not please Cabot, but it did not dismay him either. It made sense to him that the quarry would be alone. Had he been in the quarry's place he would have behaved similarly.