Vagabonds of Gor by John Norman Page A

and dispatch case.
     
    Too, Ephialtes had acted as my agent in certain respects. He was a good fellow. Even now, I supposed, he was keeping four women for me, a slave, Liadne, serving as first girl, and three free women, Amina, of Venna, and Rimice and Phoebe, both of Cos. Amina and small, curvaceous Rimice were debtor sluts. I had picked them up at the Crooked Tarn. I had also picked up slim, white-skinned, dark-haired Phoebe there, who had muchly stripped herself before me, acceding to her pleas that I accept her, if only as a servant. She needed the collar desperately. As yet I had denied it to her.
     
    In the morning I would break camp. I would trek south, toward Holmesk.
     
    Suddenly I leaned forward. It was a very tiny thing, in the distance. I was not sure I saw it. I then waited, intent. Then, after a few Ehn, I was sure of it. On that road, that dirt road, that narrow road, almost a path, long and dusty, the dried grass on each side, a figure was approaching.
     
    I waited.
     
    I waited for several Ehn, for almost a quarter of an Ahn. Gradually I became more sure.
     
    I laughed softly to myself.
     
    Then, after a time, I took a small rock and, when the figure had passed, hurled it over and behind the figure, so that it alit across from it, to the east of the road. As there was no cover on the east the figure did as I expected. It spun about, immediately, moving laterally, crouching, every sense alert, its pack discarded. It faced the opposite direction from whence had come the sound. The danger in a situation such as this, given the sound of the rock, surely an anomaly coming from the figure's left, most clearly threatened from the hill and brush, not from the grass. The late afternoon sun flashed from the steel of the bared blade. He was already yards from his pack. In moments he would move to the cover of the brush.
     
    I stood up, and lifted my right hand, free of weapons, in greeting.
     
    His blade reentered its sheath.
     
    "I see they still train warriors well in Ar!" I called to him. "At Ar's Station!" he called to me, laughing. He recovered his pack and scrambled up the hill.
     
    In a moment we clasped hands.
     
    "I feared you had been taken," he cried, in relief.
     
    "I have been waiting for you, here," I said. "What kept you?"
     
    He reddened, suddenly. "I was delayed at the Vosk," he said. "I could come no sooner."
     
    "Business?" I asked.
     
    "Of course," he said, evasively.
     
    I laughed.
     
    "You were waiting to hear news of me, if I had been taken," I said.
     
    "No!" he said, rather too quickly.
     
    "You should have come south immediately," I said, "to the vicinity of Teslit, and from thence, after a suitable interval, expeditiously, toward Holmesk."
     
    "Perhaps," he said.
     
    "But you did not do so," I observed.
     
    He blushed.
     
    "That was our plan, was it not?" I asked him, with an innocence that might have done credit to a Boots Tarsk Bit. It was not for nothing that I had traveled with a group of strolling players. To be sure, I had been used mostly to help assemble the stage and free the wheels of mired wagons.
     
    "It doesn't matter, now," he said, somewhat peevishly.
     
    "But surely one must stick to a plan," I said. "For example, one must be willing to sacrifice the comrade, the friend."
     
    "Of course," he said, irritably. "Of course!"
     
    "It is well that there are fellows like you, to instruct sluggards and less responsible fellows, like me, in their duty."
     
    "Thank you," he said.
     
    "But yet it seems in this instance you did not do so." He shrugged.
     
    "Thank you, my friend," I said.
     
    Again we clasped hands.
     
    "Hist!" said he, suddenly. "Below!"
     
    "Hola there, fellows!" called a man from the road, cheerfully. There were two others with him, tall, half-shaven, ragged, angular-looking fellows. All seemed dangerous, all were armed.
     
    The hand of Marcus went to the hilt of his weapon.
     
    "Hold," I whispered to him. I lifted my hand to the men on