Rebels of Gor by John Norman

long ago,” he said.
    “By whom?” I asked.
    “That is not clear to me,” he said.
    “Even before the formation and training of the cavalry?” I asked.
    “Yes,” he said.
    “But it is a slave?” I said.
    “Yes,” he said.
    “What slave?” I asked, puzzled.
    “That is not known to me,” he said.
    “Nor known to me,” I said.
    “Apparently,” he said.
    “Is there anything special about her?” I asked.
    “She is quite beautiful,” he said.
    “So are thousands upon thousands,” I said. “They would not be put on the block if they were not likely to sell, and well.”
    “True,” said Lord Nishida.
    “You are sure it is a slave?” I asked.
    “Yes,” he said.
    “Not a free woman?”
    “No,” he said.
    It is difficult to convey to one unfamiliar with the cultural pertinences the social status of the Gorean free woman.
    “It does not matter then,” I said. “A tarsk is a tarsk. A slave is a slave.”
    “I am pleased to hear you speak so,” said Lord Nishida.
    “I leave,” I announced.
    “Surely there is time for tea,” said Lord Nishida.
    “The tarn is saddled,” I said.
    “Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” he said.
    “Noble lord,” I said.
    “Matters are dark,” said Lord Nishida. “Lord Okimoto contemplates the ritual knife.”
    “I have gathered that,” I said.
    “Lord Okimoto,” said Lord Nishida, “has the ear of the shogun.”
    “So?” I said.
    “Should Lord Temmu suggest the ritual knife,” he said, “the garrison will unhesitantly comply.”
    “The mercenaries would not,” I said.
    “They might be independently slain,” said Lord Nishida. “Most are too weak to resist.”
    “Surely you have contact with the shogun,” I said.
    “Of course,” said Lord Nishida.
    “Convince him, at all costs,” I said, “to hold out until the passage hand.”
    “It will be difficult,” said Lord Nishida.
    “The holding will be supplied,” I said.
    “How so?” inquired Lord Nishida.
    “We have sought supplies in the wrong place,” I said.
    “I do not understand,” he said.
    “Perhaps your contract servant might withdraw,” I said.
    Sumomo was kneeling at the low, oval table, with its surface of inlaid woods, on which reposed the service for tea. She looked up, startled, then glanced to Lord Nishida, and then withdrew.
    “You have a plan?” asked Lord Nishida.
    I strode to a large framed screen, of painted silk, one bearing the images of mountains and needle trees, at the side of the room, and thrust it back.
    Sumomo then, her head down, demurely hurried away, with short steps.
    “You have a plan?” asked Lord Nishida.
    “Yes,” I said.
    “Let it be thought,” I said, “that I have withdrawn the cavalry, that we have deserted the banner of Temmu.”
    “I fear few will fail to believe that,” said Lord Nishida.
    “Good,” I said.
    “If you will provide to me the details of your plan,” he said, “I shall attempt to secure the approval of the shogun.”
    “Who will then seek the wisdom of advisors, such as Daichi, the caster of bones and shells,” I said.
    “Doubtless,” said Lord Nishida.
    “Convince him, merely,” I said, “to hold out until the passage hand.”
    “I will try to do so,” he said.
    “After the holding is supplied,” I said, “keep all but trusted guards off the outer parapets.”
    “You think you can supply the holding?” asked Lord Nishida.
    “Yes,” I said. “And it is then that my plan will become practical.”
    “Surely you may confide the details of your plan to me,” he said.
    “Forgive me, Lord,” I said.
    “I am not trusted?” he said.
    “It is hard,” I said, “to look into the hearts of men.”
    “That is true,” he said, “Tarl Cabot, tarnsman.”
     
     

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    Lord Yamada is Supplying the Holding;
    He is Unaware of This.
     
     
    We would wait until nightfall, as we had the last several nights.
    “I am not a porter,” growled Torgus.
    “There are four more panniers to fill,”