is gone, the wine is gone,” said a fellow.
“But he has won,” I said.
(pg. 65) “What occurred in the west?” demanded a man.
“Ar has lost,” he said.
Men looked at one another, stunned.
“The banners of Cos incline toward the gates of Ar,” said the man.
“No!” cried a man.
“Ar is defenseless,” moaned a fellow.
“Let the alarm bells sound,” wept a man. “Let her seal her gates!”
I had some concept of the forces of Cos. Too, I had some concept of the forces
of Ar in the city, now mostly guardsmen. She could never withstand a concerted
siege.
“I have won,” said the bearded man.
“How have you won?” asked a man, angrily.
“I have survived,” he said.
I looked at the rent skin and he reddened dust. Yes, I thought, he was the sort
of man who would survive.
Men now fled away from the circle. In Ihn, it seemed, the camp was in
consternation.
I stood there, for a time, holding my sandals.
Men moved past me, pulling their carts and wagons. Some had slave girls chained
to them. Some of these women, in their manacles, attached to the rear of the
vehicles, thrusting and pushing, helped to hurry them ahead. I heard the
bellowing of tharlarion being harnessed.
“How far is Cos?” I asked the man.
“Two, three days,” he said.
I gathered this would depend on Myron’s decision as to the rate and number of
marches. I did not think he would press his men. He was an excellent commander
and, from what I had gathered, there need be no haste in the matter. He might
even rest his men for a day or two. In any event, an excellent commander, he
would presumably bring them fresh to the gates of Ar.
I donned my sandals.
Many of the fires in the camp had now been extinguished. It might be difficult
finding my way back to the tent.
“Are you all right?” I asked the bearded fellow.
(pg. 66) “Yes,” he said.
I looked to the walls of Ar. Here and there, on the walls, like shadows
flickering against the tarn beacons, I could see the return of tarnsmen.
I looked to the west. Out there, somewhere, were the forces of Cos, their
appetites whetted by victory. Within a week, surely, they would be within sight
of Ar, eager for war, zestful for loot. I listened to the alarm bars in the
distance, from within the city. I wondered how well, tonight, would sleep her
free women. Would they squirm and toss in fear in their silken sheets? I
wondered if they better understood, this night, perhaps better than other
nights, their dependence on men. surely they knew in the bottoms of their lovely
bellies that they, too, as much as the slaves in their kennels, were spoils.
“Pray to the Priest-Kings! “Pray to the Priest-Kings!” wept a man.
I thrust him aside, moving through the press, the throng, the carts and wagons,
the tharlarion. In a few Ehn I had come to our tent.
4 Within Ar
“Revile the Home Stone of Ar’s Station while you may,” said the guard to a
tradesman. “We do not know what the future may hold.”
“No,” said the tradesman, looking about. He knew not who might be in the crowd,
nor what their sympathies might be. He did not enter between the velvet ropes,
forming their corridor to the roped enclosure within which rested the stone.
“I do not fear to do so, even now,” said a brawny fellow of the caste of metal
workers.
“Steady,” I said to Marcus, beside me.
“Nor do I fear,” said the brawny fellow, “the legions of Cos, nor her adherents
or spies! I am of Ar!” He then strode between the ropes of the stone, which
rested upon a plank, itself resting on tow huge terra-cotta vats, of the sort
into which slop pots in insulae are dumped. Such vats are usually removed once
or twice a week, emptied in one carnarium or another, outside the walls, rinsed
out and returned to the insulae. Companies have been organized for this purpose.
“Curses upon Ar’s Station,” he cried, “city faithless and without honor,
subornedally,
“But he has won,” I said.
(pg. 65) “What occurred in the west?” demanded a man.
“Ar has lost,” he said.
Men looked at one another, stunned.
“The banners of Cos incline toward the gates of Ar,” said the man.
“No!” cried a man.
“Ar is defenseless,” moaned a fellow.
“Let the alarm bells sound,” wept a man. “Let her seal her gates!”
I had some concept of the forces of Cos. Too, I had some concept of the forces
of Ar in the city, now mostly guardsmen. She could never withstand a concerted
siege.
“I have won,” said the bearded man.
“How have you won?” asked a man, angrily.
“I have survived,” he said.
I looked at the rent skin and he reddened dust. Yes, I thought, he was the sort
of man who would survive.
Men now fled away from the circle. In Ihn, it seemed, the camp was in
consternation.
I stood there, for a time, holding my sandals.
Men moved past me, pulling their carts and wagons. Some had slave girls chained
to them. Some of these women, in their manacles, attached to the rear of the
vehicles, thrusting and pushing, helped to hurry them ahead. I heard the
bellowing of tharlarion being harnessed.
“How far is Cos?” I asked the man.
“Two, three days,” he said.
I gathered this would depend on Myron’s decision as to the rate and number of
marches. I did not think he would press his men. He was an excellent commander
and, from what I had gathered, there need be no haste in the matter. He might
even rest his men for a day or two. In any event, an excellent commander, he
would presumably bring them fresh to the gates of Ar.
I donned my sandals.
Many of the fires in the camp had now been extinguished. It might be difficult
finding my way back to the tent.
“Are you all right?” I asked the bearded fellow.
(pg. 66) “Yes,” he said.
I looked to the walls of Ar. Here and there, on the walls, like shadows
flickering against the tarn beacons, I could see the return of tarnsmen.
I looked to the west. Out there, somewhere, were the forces of Cos, their
appetites whetted by victory. Within a week, surely, they would be within sight
of Ar, eager for war, zestful for loot. I listened to the alarm bars in the
distance, from within the city. I wondered how well, tonight, would sleep her
free women. Would they squirm and toss in fear in their silken sheets? I
wondered if they better understood, this night, perhaps better than other
nights, their dependence on men. surely they knew in the bottoms of their lovely
bellies that they, too, as much as the slaves in their kennels, were spoils.
“Pray to the Priest-Kings! “Pray to the Priest-Kings!” wept a man.
I thrust him aside, moving through the press, the throng, the carts and wagons,
the tharlarion. In a few Ehn I had come to our tent.
4 Within Ar
“Revile the Home Stone of Ar’s Station while you may,” said the guard to a
tradesman. “We do not know what the future may hold.”
“No,” said the tradesman, looking about. He knew not who might be in the crowd,
nor what their sympathies might be. He did not enter between the velvet ropes,
forming their corridor to the roped enclosure within which rested the stone.
“I do not fear to do so, even now,” said a brawny fellow of the caste of metal
workers.
“Steady,” I said to Marcus, beside me.
“Nor do I fear,” said the brawny fellow, “the legions of Cos, nor her adherents
or spies! I am of Ar!” He then strode between the ropes of the stone, which
rested upon a plank, itself resting on tow huge terra-cotta vats, of the sort
into which slop pots in insulae are dumped. Such vats are usually removed once
or twice a week, emptied in one carnarium or another, outside the walls, rinsed
out and returned to the insulae. Companies have been organized for this purpose.
“Curses upon Ar’s Station,” he cried, “city faithless and without honor,
subornedally,
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