Aemilianus smiled. "Good," he said. "So far west on the river," said Calliodorus, "we had not realized your straits were so desperate."
That interested me. The major land forces of Ar, I had gathered, were somewhere in the west, south of the river. I wagered that the men there, those in the ranks there, at least, were no better informed than, apparently, had been those of Port Cos. There had been no dearth of intelligence as to the desperate situation of Ar's Station, however, in this vicinity, east on the river, and south towards Ar.
"How many ships have you?" asked Aemilianus, a commander's question. "We have brought ten from Port Cos," said Calliodorus, smiling, "but as we came upriver it seemed some unidentified ships joined us, from here and there." "Unidentified?" smiled Aemilianus. "From here and there?"
"Yes," said Calliodorus, smiling, and speaking very clearly. "They are unidentified, absolutely. We do not know where they came from, nor what might be their home ports."
"How many of these came with you?" asked Aemilianus.
"Fifteen," said Calliodorus.
"These ships would not be under the command of one called Jason, of Victoria?" smiled Aemilianus.
"I certainly could not be expected to know anything of that sort," said Calliodorus.
"Praise the Vosk League!" said a man.
"Glory to the Vosk League!" whispered another man.
"It must be clearly understood by all," said Calliodorus, standing up, smiling, putting his half of the topaz into his pouch, "that the Vosk League, a neutral force on the river, one devoted merely to the task of maintaining law and order on the river, is certainly in no way involved in this operation."
"Glory to the Vosk League," said more than one man.
I moved away from the crowd about Aemilianus and walked along the outer edge of the piers. I did count twenty-five ships at the piers, and out in the harbor. Ten of these flew the blue flag I had taken for that of Cos, or that serving for Cos on the river. From the stem lines of fifteen of the ships, as far as I could tell, for some were out in the harbor, and blocked by others, there flew no colors at all. Indeed, interestingly, as I walked along the piers I saw that canvases had been thrown over places on certain of the ships, at the stern, and on the side of the bows, where one might be accustomed to look for a name.
On the way back, along the pier, I stopped by one of the unidentified ships, one wharfed adjacent to the Tais, the flagship. Indeed, it had been the second ship into the harbor, and the one that had rammed the Cosian ship amidships. "You wonder where these ships are from?" asked a fellow near me, a fellow from Ar's Station, on the pier.
"Yes," I said. "I am curious."
"This ship here," he said, "is the Tina, out of Victoria. I have seen it often enough on patrols."
"That is interesting," I said. Victoria, of course, was the headquarters of the Vosk League.
"You must understand, of course," said the fellow, "that I do not know that." "I understand," I said.
A tall, dark-haired fellow was on the ship, near the bow. He carried himself as one of natural authority, but he wore no uniform, no insignia. His men I gathered, knew well enough who he was, and others need not know. He had noted us standing on the pier, near the bow. It was there that one of the cloaks of canvas had been placed, perhaps to conceal a name. One was similarly placed on the other side of the bow.
"Tal," said he to us.
"Tal," said I to him. "If I were to remove this canvas would I see the name Tina?"
The fellow on board looked sharply at the man with me. Apparently he knew him from somewhere. Certainly the fellow with me had seemed to have no difficulty in identifying the moored vessel. "Vitruvius?" he asked.
"He can be trusted," said the man with me. This trust, I gathered, I had earned on the wall, at the gate, on the walkway. Too, I think there was little truly secret about this ship, or the others."
"Do as you wish," said the fellow on board.
I lifted up the canvas a bit, and then let it drop back, in place. I had read there, in archaic script, the name "Tina'.
"Your ship, then," I said to the fellow on board, "is indeed the Tina." "There are doubtless many ships with that name," said the fellow, smiling. "And what is the port of registry of your ship?" I asked.
"It is registered west of here," he grinned.
"Victoria?" I asked.
"Or Fina, or somewhere," he said.
"Surely these ships with you, those surprisingly flying no colors, are not of the Vosk League."
"We are an innocent trading fleet," he said.
"One Cosian ship has been destroyed in the harbor," I said, "and another has been disabled."
"Yes," he said. "It seems two regrettable accidents occurred in the harbor." "You are embarking women and children," I said.
"Passengers," he said.
"Some may think these are ships of the Vosk League," I said.
"What do you think, Vitruvius?" asked the fellow, leaning on the rail. "It seems to me unlikely that these could be ships of the Vosk League," said the fellow beside me, "for the Vosk League, as is well known, is neutral. Does it not seem unlikely to you, as well?"
"Yes," said the man on the ship, "It seems quite unlikely to me, as well." "What is your name? I asked the fellow on the ship.
"What is yours?" he asked.
"Tarl," I said.
"That is a common name," he said.
"Yes," I said, "especially in the north."
"My name, too, is a common one," he said, "especially west, on the river." "What is it?" I asked.
"Jason," said he.
"Of what town?" I asked.
"The same which serves as the home port of my ship," he said.
"West of here?" I said.
"Yes," he said.
"Victoria?" I asked.
"Or Fina, or somewhere," he said.
"I wish you well," I said.
"I wish you well," he said. Women and children, and now men, were being taken aboard this vessel as well. Turning about, looking back to my left, toward the flagship, I saw Aemilianus being carried aboard. Some tarnsmen flew overhead, but none fired downward.
I watched the piers being emptied, women and children, and men, of Ar's Station, embarking.
I then saw, a rope on her neck, her hands thonged behind her back, still veiled, still clad in the provocative rages which had been those of the former Lady Publia, Lady Claudia. She had been caught among the crowds of women and children on the pier, perhaps noted by the wounded Marsias, or one of the others who had been with us in the cell, or perhaps by others still, alerted by one or the other of them, as to her probable disguise. The Cosians had not come to the piers. She had not received her opportunity to surrender herself to them, begging from them the desperate boon and privilege of reduction to absolute slavery. Among others boarding the flagship, too, in her improvised hood, naked, her hands, too, thonged behind her back, as I had fastened them earlier, being pulled on her leash by one free woman, being herded from behind, poked and jabbed, and struck, with a stick by another, stumbling, ascending the narrow plank to the flagship, was a slave, one who had once been Lady Publia of Ar's Station.
I saw her lose her footing once on the plank and fall, belly downward on it, her legs on either side of it. She must have been utterly terrified, in the darkness of the hood, helpless, unable even to cry out. The first woman tugged at the leash. The other beat her with the stick. She struggled to her feet, and then, obedient to the leash, and trying to hurry before the cruel incitements of the stick, she ascended the plank. Female slaves are seldom left in any doubt on Gor that they are slaves, and particularly when they are in the keeping of free women. I saw two of the oarsmen lift her from the height of the plank, down, between the thwarts, and then place her kneeling, behind them, amidships, on the deck. Other slaves already knelt there. Too, in that place, kneeling, too, a neck rope dangling before her, but in no one's keeping, knelt Lady Claudia. The two free women who had had the former lady Publia in their care were courteously directed forward, where, before and about the stern castle and even on the small bow deck, were gathered several woman and children. These, already, were being fed ships' rations. Four or five ships, crowded with passengers, had come and gone more than once at the piers. These were ferrying passengers to the ships lying at anchor in the harbor. Then they themselves retained their last loads of passengers and, too, drawn away from the piers, out in the harbor, rode at anchor. Many other passengers had boarded the ship which had remained wharfed, such as the Tina and Tais. The various ships were now crowded with the men, women and children of Ar's Station. I doubted that any one of them now held less than a hundred passengers.