"You, too," I said to Telima, "apparently left the keep unbidden."
She backed warily away from me.
"Have you something to say to me, Rence Girl?" I asked.
"Umm-ummph," protested Telima, shaking her head. I took a step toward her. She shook her head. She had a don't-you-dare-you- beast-you look in her eyes. I took another step toward her.
Telima, dignity to the winds, turned and fled down the passageway, but, before she had managed to make ten yards, she had been stung twice, and roundly, by the flat of my blade.
Twenty yards beyond, running, she stopped, and turned to look upon me. She drew herself up in her full, angry dignity.
I took another step toward her and, wildly, she wheeled and, barefoot, fled stumbling down the passageway.
The dignity of the proud Telima, I gathered, could not endure another such blow. I laughed.
"One must know how to treat women," said the boy, Fish, gravely.
"Yes," I said, gravely.
"One must teach them who is master," said the boy.
"Quite," I agreed.
The men about us laughed and, as comrades in arms, we made our way through the passageway, and then the kit- chens, and the hads to the keep.
The next afternoon Samos and I stood together behind the parapet of the keep. Over our heads, high, between beams, was strung tam wire. Heavy wooden mantelets, mounted on posts, were nearby, under which we might protect ourselves from crossbow fire from tarnsmen.
My large yellow bow of Ka-a-na, tipped with bosk hom and strung with hemp, whipped with silk, was at hand, It had helped to keep besiegers at their distance. There were few arrows left.
Our men were below. We were weary. We had caught what steep we could. Now, only Samos and I stood watch.
Before my return to the holding, Samos, with his men and mine, had withstood eleven assaults on the keep, both by tamsmen and besieging infantry. Since I had returned yesterday evening, we had withstood another four. we now had left only thirty-five men, eighteen who had accompanied Samos to my holding, and seventeen of my own.
"Why have you come to defend my keep, and my holding?" I asked Samos. "Do you not know?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"It does not matter," he said, "now."
"Had it not been for you and your men," I said, "my holding would long ago have fallen."
Samos shrugged.
We looked out over the parapet. The keep is near the delta wall of the holding. We could, from the ramparts, look out over the marsh, stretching far beyond, that vast beautiful delta of the great Vosk, through which I had come, so long ago.
Our men, exhausted, lay below, within the keep. The Ehn of sleep they could obtain were precious to them They, like Samos and myself, were almost overcome with weariness. The waiting, and then the fighting, and the waiting again, had been so long, so long.
Also below were four girls, Vina and Telima, and Lums, the chief accountant of my house, who had not iled, and the dancer, Sandra, who had been afraid to leave the holding. Most others, whether men or women, slave or free, had fled. Even Thumock and Thura, and Clitus and Ula, whom I had expected to stay, had fled. I did not reproach them, even in my heart. They were wise. It was madness to stay behind. In the end, I told myself, it was I, and not they, who was truly the fool. And yet I would not have chosen, at this time, to be any place other than where I stood, on height of my keep, in the holding I had made mine own in Port Kar.
And so Samos, and I, kept watch.
I looked at him. I did not understand the slaver. Why had he come to defend my holding? Was he so irrational so mad, so contemptuous Of the value of his life? He did not belong here.
This holding was mine, mine!
"You are weary," said Samos. "Go below. I will watch." I nodded. There was no longer any point, nor time, to distrust Samos. His sword had been much stained in my behalf. I-Es own life, like mine, had stood stake on the parapet of my keep. If he served the Ubars, or Claudius, regent of Henrius Sevarius, or the Ubarates of Cos and Tyros, or the Others, or Priest-Kings, or himself, I no longer cared. I no longer cared about anything. I had wme back. I was very tired.
I descended through the trap and climbed down the ladder to the first level beneath the keep's roof. There was food and water there, enough for another week of fight- ing. But I did not think we would need that much. Before nightfall doubtless more assaults would take place, and in the first, or the second, or in another, we would surely fall.
I looked about the room. The men were sleeping. It was and littered. They were unshaven. Several of them, men of Samos, were unknown to me, but others, mine, I had cared for. Some were even slaves, who bad fought with poles and hammers. Others were men who had been slaves, whom I had freed and trained with weapons. Others were seamen, and two others were mercenaries, who had refused to leave my service. I saw the boy Fisk sleeping, Vina in his arms. He had done well, I thought.
"Master," I heard.
In one comer of the room I saw Sandra, the dancer. To my surprise, she had arrayed herself in pleasure silu and cosmetics. She was truly beautiful. I went to her side. She was kneeling before a bronze mirror, touching an eyebrow with a brush.
She looked up at me, frightened. "When they come," she asked, "they will not kill Sandra, will they?"
"I do not think so," I said. "I think they will Bad her beautiful, and permit her to live."
She shook with relief, and returned to her mirror, anxiously studying her countenance.
I lifted her gently to her feet and looked into her eyes.
"Please do not disturb my cosmetics," she begged.
I smiled. "No," I said, "I will not. They will find you very beautiful." I kissed her on the side of the neck, beneath the ear, and descended to another level.
She looked after me.
On this level, sitting against a wall, her knees drawn up, I found Luma. I went to her, and stood before her.
She stood up, and touched my check with her bancl There were tears in her eyes. "I would free you," I said, "but I think they might kill free women, if they found theml" I touched her collar.
"With this," I said, "I think you might be permitted to live."
She wept and put her head to my shoulders. I held her in my arms.
"My brave Luma," I said. "My fine, brave Luma."
I kissed her and, pressing her gently from me, descended another level. There Telima had been caring for two men who had been wounded.
I went to one wall and, on a cloak that was lying there, sat down, my head in my hands.
The girl came to be beside me, where, in the fashion of the Gorean woman, she knelt, back on her heels "I expect," she said, after a time, "the fleet will return in a few hours, and we shall be saved."
Surely she knew the fleet, as well as I, had been driven pasangs south, and would not be able to reach the harbor of Port Kar for another two or three days, at the least.
"Yes," I said, "in a few hours the fleet will return and we shall be saved." She put her hand on my head, and then her face was against mine.
"Do not weep," I told her.
I held her against me.
"I have hurt you so," she said.
"No," I said, "no."
"It is all so strange," she said.
"What is so strange?" I asked.
"That Samos should be here," said she.
"But why?" I asked.
She looked at me. "Because," said she, "years ago, he was my master." I was startled.
"I was taken slave at the age of seven in a raid," she said, "and Samos, at a market, bought me. For years he treated me with great concern and care. I was treated well, and taught things that slaves are seldom taught. I can read, you know."
I recalled once, long ago, being puzzled that she, though a mere rence girl, had been literate.
"And I was taught many other things, too," said she, "when I could read, even to the second knowledge."