"Get on your knees," I said.
"Yes, my captor!" she said, frightened, and struggled to her knees.
"I regarded her, on her knees before me. "Please do not beat me," she said, "Why should I do that?" I asked. "You are a free woman."
I then set off across the sand, to investigate the source of the cry. I looked back once to see her kneeling in the sand, Her hands were behind her back. Looping up to her buckled collar was the strap to her collar, that tethering her to the raft.
She was pretty on her knees.
To be sure, she was still only a free woman.
27 The Female Obtains Certain Insights
"Help!" cried the man in the sand. It was now high, about his waist. It is not hard to stumble into such sand. One might wade into it. Unwittingly. Then, instead of supporting one's weight, with a give of some inches, it seems, suddenly to grasp the ankles, and then gravity begins its slow work. Most quicksand, of course, is not particularly dangerous, as often one can turn about and scramble back, out of it, or reach in one's struggles a more solid footing, or its edge, or it is only two or three feet deep. It is extremely dangerous, of course, in certain expanses and depths. For example, if one is several feet into a pool of it before one realizes this, one might be trapped, too, of course, if the sand is deep, deeper than the height of the trapped organism. Sometimes such pools are extremely treacherous, as when they have a natural concealment, the sand at their top, supported by surface tension, seemingly continuous with adjacent sand, or when covered with algae or swamp growth. The pools differ, too, in their density. In some one sinks relatively rapidly, in others, where the sand is of greater density, the same relative loss of elevation may take several Ehn, in some cases as much as half of an Ahn. There are several techniques for avoiding the dangers of quicksand. One may follow a tested, scouted path, either following others or keeping to marked passages, if they exist; one should not go into such areas alone, one should not travel in close proximity to the others, one should have rope, and so on. If one-struggles, one sinks faster. Thus, in certain cases, it is rational to attempt to remain calm and call for help. Of course, if no one is about, and one will otherwise inevitably sink, it makes sense to attempt to free oneself, by wading, or, in effect, trying to swim free. If one's legs are locked in the sand, of courses, one is considerably handicapped in such efforts. I think, from his appearance, that he had muchly struggled in the sand, this suggesting he was alone. But now, it seemed, he had stopped struggling, and was simply crying out for help, in case, presumably despite all probabilities, any might be about. I gathered that he had ceased his struggles, convinced that they were futile. I suspected he was correct.
The fellow in the sand wore the uniform of Ar.
I saw no one else about. I gathered that he was alone, probably foraging.
"Help!" he suddenly cried, seeing me, reaching out toward me. "Help! Help!"
He was covered with the slime and sand of the marsh.
"Friend!" he cried. "Fellow soldier of Ar! Help!"
I stood forth, at the edge of the pool of sand. He was about ten feet from me.
"Help!" he cried. I regarded him.
"I am absolutely helpless!" he said. "I am trapped! I cannot move without sinking further!"
That seemed to me true.
"I am sinking!" he cried. "Render me assistance or I will die!"
I saw no point in disputing his assessment of the situation. As nearly as I could determine, it was perfectly correct.
"Fellow soldier of Ar," said he, "help me, I beg of you!"
"I am not a soldier of Ar," I said. He looked at me, wildly.
"Do you not recognize me?" I asked. He moaned with misery.
My heart was consumed with rage toward him. Had I had him within the compass of my blade I might have run him through, then hacked him into meat for tharlarion.
"Help me!" he said.
The sand was now to his chest. I regarded him.
"Help me, friend!" said he. He put out his hand to me.
"I am not your friend," I said.
"Help me," he said. "Please!"
"You are not an honorable man," I said. "Please!" he cried.
His eyes were wild. His hand was out, piteously, helplessly, to me.
I turned about and left the side of the pool of sand.
"Sleen! Sleen!" I heard him weep, after me.
I strode angrily back to the raft. Seeing my face, and the ferocity of my stride, Ina, on her knees by the raft, swiftly put her head down to the sand. She trembled. I seized her by the upper arms and flung her on her back in the sand and discharged lightning into her softness. Then she lay shattered, gasping, in the sand. She looked up at me, wildly. I seized up the pole from the raft in fury and strode back to the pool of sand. Then, angrily, I extended it toward the soldier of Ar, Plenius, who had been my keeper. The sand was then about his mouth. His hands reached piteously toward the pole. He could not reach it. Then he managed to grasp it with one hand, then two. Then I drew him, filthy, covered with sand and water, from the pool, to the dry land. He was trembling there.
I drew my sword. I expected him to attack me.
He drew his, but, on his knees, plunged it into the sand, before me. He did the same with his dagger.
"I am your prisoner," he said, weakly.
"No," 1 said, "you are a free man."
"You," he said, "a Cosian spy, would grant me my life, and freedom?"
"You are not a female," I said. On Gor it is not believed, or pretended to be believed, that the two sexes are the same. Accordingly they are treated differently.
"I have behaved dishonorably toward you," he said, "in the matter of the key on the island, when you had fittingly won it.
"Yes," I said.
"I am shamed," he said. I was silent.
"If you wish," he said, "I shall plunge my dagger into my own breast."
"No," I said. "Begone!"
He reached to take his sword.
I stood almost over him. I was ready to cut his head from his body.
"Have you saved my life only to take it from me now?" he asked.
"If you would do war with me," said I, "stand, sword in hand."
He sheathed his blade. "You have saved my life," he said. "I have no wish, no matter what you may be, to now do war with you."
I stepped back, lest he lunge at me with the dagger. But he sheathed it, as well. With difficulty, he stood up. I saw then that not only was he harrowed from the sand, but that he was weak, and ill, probably from weeks of terror and hunger.
"How have you managed to live in the delta?" he asked.
"It is not difficult," I said. He looked at me, startled.
"Hundreds manage," I said. "Consider the rencers."
"Have you seen such about?" he asked.
"Not recently," I said.
"There are no paths here, no trails," he said.
"None," said I, "which appear on your maps."
"It is a labyrinth," he said, wearily.
"There are the sun and stars, the winds, the flow of the current," I said.
"We are hunted by rencers," he said.
"Be too dangerous to hunt," I advised him.
"We starve," he said.
"Then you know not where to look for food," I said.
"There are the sharks, the tharlarion," he said.
"Such are sources of nourishment," I said.
"We are civilized men," he said. "We cannot survive in the delta. We are doomed here."
"Your greatest danger would be in trying to leave the delta," I said.
"The delta," he said, "has vanquished mighty Ar."
"The delta, like any woman," I said, "is conquerable. It is only that you did not know how to get her helplessly into your bonds. Had you been properly informed and prepared you could have conquered her, and then, like any other woman, have had her fittingly at your feet as a slave."
"There was treachery," he said.
"Of course," I said.
"I give you thanks," said he, "for my life, for my freedom."