“Hold!” said a voice, at the edge of the camp, where the track begins, which leads to the plaza of training.
I stopped, and held my hands away from my body, and blinked a little against the light of the lifted, now-unshuttered dark lantern. There were three there. There might be others, in the shadows, with bows.
“How goes the night?” I asked.
“Commander,” said a voice.
“Well,” said another, “it goes well.”
I lowered my arms.
“I would proceed no further, Commander,” said one, “until light.”
“My thanks,” I said. “I shall free the blade.”
“Two might accompany you,” said one of them, “one with a lantern.”
I slipped the blade free from the sheath. The shoulder belt, if over one’s shoulder, may be instantly discarded. This may prove an important wisdom in a perilous situation. A scabbard, hooked to a buckled waist belt, or slung across the body, might be seized in combat, discommoding its wearer, perhaps pulling him off balance, or into the blade of a waiting knife. But the belt on the shoulder is easily shed. If one is in a territory thought safe, of course, the scabbard belt is not unoften slung across the body, looped from the right shoulder to the left hip, if the swordsman is right-handed, and, naturally enough, looped from the left shoulder to the right hip, if the swordsman is left-handed. Both modalities facilitate the swift, across-the-body draw. This arrangement provides a convenient, secure carry.
“Remain at your post,” I said.
“Enemies, Commander,” said one, “may linger.”
I thought this possible, but unlikely.
Few, I thought, would care to linger in our precincts, risking discovery by Ashigaru.
Would they not now, scattered, defeated, haggard, desperate, frightened, half-starved, have sought flight?
Too, they might well fear larls.
Certainly some of these large, dreaded, clawed, fanged, fearsome beasts occasionally roared within the forests. These were, doubtless, given the latitude, the larls of Lord Nishida, which might well still be in the vicinity, frequenting their former haunts, making their rounds as though the encirclements of wands was still in place.
“Take a lantern,” pressed one.
“Shuttered, it is a burden,” I said. “Unshuttered, it illuminates a target.”
“Take a buckler,” said another.
“Darkness,” I said, “serves well as shield.”
There is a saying among warriors that he who attacks a shadow plays with death.
“We have caught the scent of a sleen,” warned another, who was Pani.
Such beasts were in the forest.
“Then you have little to fear,” I said. “The sleen to fear is the one of whose presence you are unaware.”
The sleen, as most predators, whether panthers, larls, or such, will stalk in such a manner as to approach the prey from downwind, from the direction toward which the wind is blowing. In this manner the scent of the prey is borne to them, and their own scent is carried backward, away from the prey. To such animals scent not only detects prey, but can be informative as to its distance, movements, numbers, and sex. Some predators, interestingly, will favor male prey over female prey, particularly in times of estrus. The favoring of male prey, it is conjectured, tends statistically, over time, to increase the number of prey animals. To be sure, risks are involved, as the male animal is usually wary, alert, aggressive, large, and armed, so to speak, wickedly horned, sharply hoofed, and such.
I wondered if something similar might not be the case with humans. Is it not the female who is most commonly seized and coffled, who may, in time, breed sons for her master? To be sure, it is the female who is desirable, and the male who is dangerous, the female who longs for and is fulfilled in her bondage, and the male who longs for, and is fulfilled by, the female at his feet. And so for the female the collar, and for the male the whip.
“These two will accompany you,” said the command sentry.
“No,” I said.
“I insist,” he said.
“Why?” I asked.
“It is dangerous,” he said.
“I will take those two,” I said, indicating two others.
“As you wish,” he said.
“You will all remain at your post,” I said.
He seemed puzzled.
“All,” I said.
Perhaps I had spent too long with Lord Nishida. That two had been singled out, without consultation, to accompany me, suggested that I might be set upon in the darkness. The readiness of the command sentry to furnish two others without demur, however, reassured me that his offer had been solicitously motivated. It seemed unlikely that an entire guard group would have been recruited to set upon me in the darkness. If that were the case, why would they wait? Too, who would know I would make the rounds at the third watch?
The command sentry stepped back. “Yes, Commander,” he said.
I then turned about, and addressed myself to the track leading to the training area. I did not, of course, resheathe my blade.
It was not impossible that enemies, one or more, concealed, terrified, hungry, miserable, might be in the vicinity.
I would encounter the guard group at the far end of the track, and then, a bit later, after circling the training area, the field, cots, and sheds, retrace my steps.
I had my memories of such places, and of the sky above them, from which blood had rained.
From time to time I stopped, and crouched down, and listened.
I heard only the noises of the forest.
Once I did catch the scent of a sleen.
I was then again afoot.
In the morning, the camp, Tarncamp, I had been given to understand, would be moved. This transition would include, as well, I supposed, at least some of the structures of the training and storage area. Lord Nishida’s plans, I had been informed, had been advanced. The attack had made it clear his project, whatever it might be, despite his efforts at secrecy, displayed in diverse precautions and the studied remoteness of the camp, lay in jeopardy. Our victory would doubtless gain some time, but one did not know how much. Lord Nishida might, as other commanders, gamble, for such things are inevitable in war, but, as most other commanders, as well, I did not think he would do so without necessity.
In the morning things would be much changed.
I considered leaving the service of Lord Nishida.
With a spear I did not greatly fear larls. With a keen blade, and the great bow, I did not much fear men.
The warrior is trained to live off the land.
I remembered the wands.
One did not lightly leave the service of Lord Nishida.
On the other hand, I did not think I would much care to be any who might follow me.
Yet I was curious to see a far shore, if it might be reached. I did not suppose that the world ended a bit beyond the waters of Tyros and Cos, or beyond the Farther Islands, even far beyond them, that at some point, some brink, Thassa plunged a thousand pasangs downward, like a planetary waterfall, only to be lifted by fiery Tor-tu-Gor, Light Upon the Home Stone, the common star of Earth and Gor, as might be a drop of evaporating rain, thence to be bestowed in the east, in tens of thousands of storms, to flow then, again, in time, into the mighty Vosk, the sinuous Cartius, the tropical Ua, and a hundred other rivers, to continue its great cycle. This theory, espoused by many privy only to the First Knowledge, was dismissed by mariners, for it would require a constant current to the west which did not exist. Another theory held that the world did, indeed, end at some horizon, for in a finite world there could be no infinite number of horizons, but maintained that at the final horizon, or final shore, as in a lake, Thassa would find her final limit. But, interestingly, Thassa herself, in one such theory, constituted this limit, at that point being hardened, or frozen, a part of her, like a wall, holding back the rest. And beyond this limit there was nothing. A similar theory maintained that Thassa was restricted within her bounds by a great wall of stone, constructed eons ago by Priest-Kings. And beyond this wall, again, there was nothing. Most mariners, however, believed that the world was spherical, surmising this from a plenitude of considerations, that one first discerns the masts of approaching ships, that Gor’s shadow, round, is occasionally cast on a moon, that not all stars are visible at all latitudes, as would be the case if the world were a plane, and so on. To be sure, they often thought the lower surface of the sphere, below embedded Thassa, likely to be uninhabitable. Would not creatures fall from the world if they ventured too far thence? Too, if they could somehow cling to the surface, and move about in such precincts, fugitives or madmen, adventurers or explorers, perhaps by means of ropes or nailed sandals, would not such a life be uncomfortable and dangerous, precariously inverted as they must be? No, such depths must be uninhabited. On the other hand, Goreans with access to the Second Knowledge, recognized the sphericity of Gor, the viability of the antipodes, the action of gravity, and such.