She who had worn the medallion of power in Ar now passed me, far from the city, far from her flatterers and servitors, far from the throne, merely another slave, wrist-shackled, tunicked, and barefoot.
The climb to the castle would be lengthy, and arduous.
Looking up toward the rail from the wharf, I saw Seremides, watching the Pani below.
I supposed that he would remain on the ship.
On the wharf, I saw Tereus. A mariner, assigned the wharf watch, in charge of order here, posted to discourage loitering and prevent pilfering, spoke to Tereus, and he began to ascend the trail.
I thought it wise for Seremides to remain on the ship.
Many were those who wished him dead.
Some of the lesser Pani were already returning to the wharf. Some bore sedan chairs, by means of which contract women might be carried to the castle.
I waited about.
A light rain began to fall.
Such rains, I would learn, are common in the area, and, not unoften, rains far more severe.
I supposed that Philoctetes had preceded me.
Licinius Lysias passed, and we exchanged greetings. I was uneasy in his presence. Early in the voyage, when a galley was launched, he had often been chained to his bench. As we had no bench slaves on board, such fellows usually found on round ships, I supposed him a recreant of sorts, spared for his strength at an oar. Later he had sat his bench not otherwise than the rest of us. More than once we had drawn oar together.
I was not eager to ascend the long climb alone.
Men passed me, and I thought of joining them, but one prefers fellows one knows.
Leros, and Aeacus, whom I knew from the high watches, had been in the first contingent and were doubtless already within the castle, or its walls.
I had turned about, finally, to join others, to make my way upward, when I heard my name called, “Callias!”
I turned about, and, to my surprise, one not pleasant, I saw Seremides hobbling toward me, the crutch striking on the wharf planks.
“Noble Rutilius,” I said.
“You know me from Ar,” he snarled.
“So who are you?” I asked.
“Rutilius, Rutilius, of Ar,” he said.
“Of course,” I said.
“There are no bounties here,” he said.
“Clearly,” I said.
“You saved my life,” he said.
“I had not thought the matter through,” I said.
“It is a life worthless enough, as it is,” he said.
“It is worth what it is to you,” I said.
“You protected me on the ship,” he said, “from the sleen, Tereus, from the bullying urts, Aeson, Thoas, and Andros. I have never forgotten that.”
“Thoas and Andros were slain on the ship, during the boarding, near the Warning Ship,” I said. “Aeson was found in the water, near the ship, dead, the morning after the ambush, after the evacuation of the beach.”
“Oh?” he said.
“Their deaths were not well understood,” I said.
“I see,” he said.
“You smile,” I noted.
“Have you seen the oarsman, Tereus, about?” he asked.
“Surely you saw him from the rail,” I said. “He was ordered from the wharf.”
“He is gone?”
“Toward the castle,” I said.
“He was waiting for me,” said Seremides.
“I conjectured as much,” I said.
“He intends to kill me,” said Seremides.
“Do not be alone with him,” I said. “Do not accept a challenge.”
“In Ar,” he said, “I could have cut off his ears and nose, and hamstrung him, before ramming my blade into his heart.”
“You should have remained on the ship,” I said.
“I was roped, raging, and lowered to the wharf, helpless, while they laughed, like a bag of sa-tarna.”
“You are not of the Pani,” I said. “Neither are you an officer, nor a mariner.”
“They put me off to die,” he said.
“Perhaps,” I said. I thought that possible.
“Protect me,” he said.
“Are you afraid?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, angrily.
“Seremides, afraid?” I said.
“As Seremides is,” he said, “Seremides is entitled to fear.”
“Certainly you have sent many before you to the Cities of Dust,” I said.
“Never without cause,” he said.
“Causes are easily come by,” I said.
“Help me,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“People pay me little attention,” he said. “They ignore me. They do not know I am about. I do not matter. They speak freely before me. I hear things. I know matters which might be of interest to you, and others.”
“I must be on my way,” I said.
“How can I climb that hill?” he asked, angrily, gesturing with the tip of the narrow crutch.
“It will be difficult,” I said.
“In Ar, we were brothers in arms,” he said.
“In Ar,” I said, “I was a fellow of the occupation, you were a traitor.”
“We are of the ship,” he said.
“You are a killer,” I said. “And I think you are a murderer.”
“You see me as one betrayed by fortune,” he said. “Behold, I who once was formidable, mighty and feared, high in Ar, second only to Myron, polemarkos of Temos, am now reduced, am now no more than a mockery of a man, a helpless cripple, at the mercy of the meanest villain or rogue.”
“I depart,” I said. “Do not expect me to wish you well.”
“Help me,” he said.
“If I am with you,” I said, “the same blade which seeks you may strike me.”
“Are you afraid?” he asked.
“Certainly,” I said.
“Who but you,” he asked, “would protect me?”
“Cabot would,” I said. “Tarl Cabot.” I thought of him as perhaps as great a fool as I.
“Is he here?”
“I do not know where he is,” I said.
“Protect me,” he said.
“Seek another,” I said.
“We are of the same ship,” he said.
I cried out in rage.
“The same ship,” he smiled.
“Give me your arm,” I said.
As he lurched toward me, he brushed against me.
“You are armed,” I said.
“Of course,” he said.
We then addressed ourselves to the trail, in the light rain.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I had inquired the name of several slaves, now and then, casually, over the past few days, but was particularly interested in one name, that of one slave. Obviously I did not wish to signal her out, suggesting that she might be of special interest. Slaves, of course, as other animals, are named as masters may please. The name given to the slave was Adraste.
“It was you, in Ar, who threw me the rag of a slave!” hissed Adraste.
I had taken Alcinoe by the hair, bent her over, and thrust her into the same small kennel with Adraste, and had then swung shut the gate, it locking with its closure. In this way, the two former highest, richest women in Ar, both traitresses, both muchly involved in the Great Treason, both wanted in Ar, both now slaves, were forced to confront one another, in their current humiliation, shame, and degradation.
The thrice-walled grounds of the castle of Lord Temmu, all in all, must have occupied more than a full square pasang, extending broadly over a wide plateau, which, on one side, fell straight to the sea, and was accessible otherwise, as from the cove, by steep trails, one of which was walled, that from the wharf. The trails were narrow, fortified, and might be economically defended. An ascent otherwise, given the steepness of the plateau, almost vertical, accentuated by the work of Lord Temmu’s military engineers, would have been not only difficult but extremely hazardous. A small group of skilled climbers, approaching at night, might have reached the foot of the walls, but it seemed that an ascent of the plateau by any large group, certainly undetected, would have been unlikely. Three additional precautions tended to militate against a practical ascent of the plateau, one of which was quite new to me. Comprehensible enough was the precaution of symmetrically placed, projecting guard stations built into the side of the plateau, each manned by two ashigaru. From each station arrow fire might rake the side of the plateau. No point on the plateau was not accessible to fire from two directions. Each station, too, was equipped with a drum, by means of which signals could be conveyed. A second precaution, sensibly enough, was the nightly illumination of the plateau, though dimly, by lanterns. A lantern which ceased burning would be noted and investigated. The most interesting precaution, at least to me, was the provision of nesting sites on the almost vertical slopes for the Uru, which is a small, winged, vartlike mammal. This mammal, which usually preys on insects and small urts, like several species of birds, is communally territorial. When disturbed, it shrieks its warning and it is soon joined by a clamoring swarm of its fellows. In this way, a natural alarm system is obtained. Moreover, if a nesting site is closely approached, the Uru is likely to attack the intruder. It is a small mammal, but, shrieking and flying at the face of a climber, one precariously clinging to an almost vertical surface, it is, I am told, at least in such a situation, something most unpleasant to encounter. In any event, the holding of Lord Temmu, if not impregnable, was redoubtable. It remained, at least until now, despite the woes of the war, secure and inviolable, one stubborn, mighty, obdurate impediment to the designs of Lord Yamada, shogun, as it was said, at least by his minions, of the Twelve Islands.