Smugglers of Gor

Chapter Twenty-Six



“You need a sleen,” said the fellow.

He carried a pack, as did I.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Axel,” he said.

“Of Argentum?” I asked.

“You know of me?” he said.

“I have a slave,” I said, “who knows of you.”

“That would be pretty Asperiche,” he said.

“I trust she has not been a nuisance,” I said.

“One puts up with slaves,” he said, “particularly if they are lightly clad, well collared, and beautiful.”

“If she annoys you,” I said, “cuff her, and well.”

“I have your permission?” he asked.

“Certainly,” I said.

“She fears she is not your preferred slave,” he said.

“I have no other,” I said.

“At present,” he said.

“At present,” I agreed.

“Asperiche has been much about,” he said.

“I feared so,” I said.

“She has made known to me your interest, however incomprehensible, in a missing slave.”

“I have no interest in her,” I said, “as she is a slave. I thought I might go hunting, however, simply for the sport.”

“I think the larls are out,” he said.

“I know they are,” I said.

“It seems a less than auspicious time to go hunting,” he said.

“It may enrich the sport,” I said.

“By now,” he said, “one of those fellows may have brought part of her back to the cages.”

“It is possible,” I said.

“More than likely,” he said.

“You keep sleen?” I asked.

“I have one,” he said.

“Is it a good tracker?” I asked.

“What sleen is not?” he asked.

“Let me rent it,” I said.

“It might take off your leg,” he said. “It would be best for me to accompany you.”

As I did not know a great deal about sleen, and animals sometimes differ considerably in their habits and temperament, and one usually hires both a sleen and a sleen master, I was not adverse to what I took to be his offer.

“How much do you want?” I asked.

“No more than the interest and pleasure of the hunt,” he said.

“Asperiche?” I asked.

“Only the hunt,” he said.

“I do not understand,” I said.

“Hunters do not always have the same quarry in mind,” he said. “Do you know a Lord Okimoto?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Do you know an officer, Tyrtaios?” he asked.

“I have seen him,” I said, “about the dock, and camp.”

“I suspect you know him better than that,” he said.

“Do you know him?” I asked.

“Perhaps better than you,” he said.

I thought it not well to pursue this matter, as it might lead to unwelcome inquiries. I did not know how much this Axel, allegedly of Argentum, might know of matters into which it might be dangerous to inquire.

“You have sought me out because of Asperiche?” I said.

“Perhaps,” said he, “because of Lord Okimoto, and Tyrtaios.”

“You are a spy then,” I said, “to accompany me beyond the wands?”

“Surely you do not expect them to believe that you would cross them for a slave?”

“No,” I said, “but for the pleasure of the hunt.”

“I, too,” he said, “have a hunt in mind.”

“Me?” I asked.

“Not at all,” he said. “You need not be hunted. Your location is not in doubt. Obviously you are here. If it was wished, you could be cut down where you stand.”

“By you?” I asked.

“Or another,” he said.

“We need not cross the wands,” I said. “Draw.”

“I do not choose to do so,” he said.

“At present,” I said.

“At least at present,” he said.

“You are perhaps an Assassin,” I said.

“No,” he said. “Are you?”

“No,” I said.

“Several in the camp,” he said, “think you are of the dark caste.”

“I am of the Merchants,” I said.

“I have heard, the Slavers,” he said.

“Very well,” I said.

“A dangerous occupation,” he said, “but one with its pleasures.”

“You said,” I said, “you had a hunt in mind.”

“The quarry I have in mind,” he said, “is one of interest to both Lord Okimoto and Tyrtaios.”

“Surely not a fled slave,” I said.

“She might be useful in their plans,” he said.

“Let us fetch your sleen, and seek the scent.”

“There is no hurry,” he said. “If the larls have not eaten your runaway by now, she is probably safe for a time.”

“Why do we delay?” I asked.

“Surely you know the larls are out,” he said. “It is dangerous. They have not yet been recalled.”

“I shall bargain for another sleen,” I said, angrily.

“Our sleen is waiting,” he said, “near a rack of drying Tur-Pah, beyond the western end of the dock. I have tied him there. He is restless. He scratches at the earth. Your slave is a stupid little fool, even a barbarian. She put her blanket to the laundry, how clever, unaware that her scent saturates her chaining place in her kennel, that it lies in pools in each footstep she takes, that it lingers in grass, mud, and brush, even for a time in the very air through which she passes.”

“She may be a stupid little fool,” I said, “even a barbarian, but her eyes are deep, her lips are soft, and her flanks are of interest.”

“I have also heard, from the Slave House,” he said, “that she juices nicely, helplessly, and uncontrollably.”

“Excellent,” I said.

“It is pleasant,” he said, “to have a slave so much at your mercy.”

“It is the same with them all, sooner or later,” I said. “They are not free women.”

“True,” he said.

“Obviously,” I said.

“You have some interest in the slave?” he asked.

“Not at all,” I said.

“Asperiche thought you might,” he said.

“She is mistaken,” I said.

“It is only the sport of the hunt you seek,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I see,” he said.

“Let us hunt,” I said.

“The larls,” he said.

“Let us chance the business,” I said.

“Not until the tenth Ahn,” he said, “when the larls will be recalled.”

“They have been hardly out,” I said.

The larls were occasionally released in the morning, though commonly in the evening. I did know they had been released this morning. Earlier I did not know if that was because of the fled slave or was no more than a matter of coincidence, but now, it seemed, another reason might be involved, one which might be of interest to Lord Okimoto and Tyrtaios. Axel, I recalled, had mentioned another quarry, and, I had gathered, the larls withdrawn, this enabling the hunt of Axel, such a quarry, one apparently of interest to Lord Okimoto and Tyrtaios, might prove, eventually, to have some relationship to the fled slave. I understood little of this, at the time.

“It has to do with the word of Lord Okimoto,” he said.

“And your hunt,” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“What is your quarry?” I asked.

“It is suspected the camp is being scouted,” he said.

“Then enemies, a spy, or spies?” I said.

“Much is obscure,” he said. “Lord Okimoto wishes to inquire into the matter.”

“Leave them for the larls,” I said.

“Perhaps later,” said Axel. “First, intelligence might be gathered.”

“Should you not be accompanied, by mercenaries, by several men, by Pani?” I asked.

“Allies, from the coastal ships, certain crews, are about,” he said.

“Not in Shipcamp,” I said.

“No,” he said, “their knowledge of Shipcamp is imperfect, speculative.”

He suddenly lifted his hand, and I heard then the first stroke of the bar, beginning to signal the tenth Ahn.

“The larls are being recalled,” he said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I have been informed,” he said.

“How are they recalled?” I asked.

“It is done with whistles,” he said. “Few humans can hear the notes.”

I looked at Axel, closely. “Perhaps Kurii could hear the notes,” I said.

“What are Kurii?” he asked.

My test, it seemed, had failed, or had been detected.

“Some sort of beasts,” I said. “I have heard of them.”

“Sleen can hear the notes, and panthers,” he said.

“What has my hunt to do with yours?” I asked.

“I do not know, clearly, what I am looking for,” he said. “Only that there is sign that the camp has been scouted, perhaps is being scouted. My hunt then is primarily one of reconnaissance. I have no scent trail on which to put our six-legged friend. Your hunt provides a convenient cover for mine. It will be thought we are on the same hunt, foolish though it may be, for a slave. Apprehension amongst the men, fear of an attack, is not welcomed.”

There had already been a large-scale attack on Tarncamp. I had been logging in the forest, and had not participated in the camp’s defense.

“I need the sleen for my hunt,” I said. “My sword will not accept our parting in the forest, should you decide to pursue another path, another hunt.”

“Have no fear,” he said. “We will do your business first.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Asperiche,” he said, “is quite pretty.”

“So she has indeed been much about,” I said.

“I have not objected,” he said.

“Nor have you put her to use,” I said.

“No,” he said. “I am not a thief.”

“I see you have your pack,” I said.

“And you yours,” he said.

“Let us be on our way,” I said.

“Certainly,” he said. “Even should we encounter a larl it will now ignore us. It is returning to its cage, and dinner.”

Shortly thereafter, not far from the western edge of the dock, we encountered the sleen. It was a large, mottled beast, some nine feet long, brown and black. It became excited at his appearance. It began to whine, and tear at the turf, and writhe and twist about, almost like a snake.

“I do not want it to kill the slave,” I said.

“It has not been given that command,” he said.

Its snout was to the forest, its nostrils flared, its eyes keen, its long, sinuous body trembling.

Its tether was taut.

“Hold, hold,” said Axel soothingly. He then freed the monster of its tether. The beast, though trembling, remained in place.

Axel then donned a heavy pair of gloves, and attached a chain leash to the beast’s heavy, thick, spiked collar.

“Why the chain, why the gloves?” I asked.

“He cannot chew through the chain,” he said. “And I do not wish to lose a hand.”

“I gather he becomes excited,” I said.

“That is not unusual in a hunting sleen,” he said. “Easy, easy, Tiomines,” he said, soothingly.

“It is unusual that it would be this agitated this early, is it not?” I asked.

“The scent is very fresh,” he said.

“It must have been laid down Ahn ago,” I said.

“You know little of sleen,” he said.

It is not unheard of for sleen to follow a given scent for days, even one which may have been laid down weeks ago.

Axel then looped together the freed tether, and attached it to his belt. He then adjusted his pack, as did I.

Near the restless beast, lying near it, within what had been clearly the compass of its tether, were two javelins. Axel retrieved one of these, and handed me the other.

“I gather you did not fear these would be stolen?” I said.

“No,” he said.

“The larls are in,” I reminded him.

“Now,” he said.

I hefted the javelin, it was light, supple, and smoothly, but wickedly, bladed. It was no more than five feet in length, at best. The head was fixed to the shaft, not detachable as is often the case with the military javelin, which is likely to be socketed in such a way that after a strike the missile cannot be drawn free whole, to be immediately reused, perhaps by an enemy. The head, of course, can be resocketed later. The hunting javelin, on the other hand, can be withdrawn easily from the target, whole, and used repeatedly. There is little danger that the typical target of a hunting javelin will return it to its owner. Javelins, whether intended for sport or war, are quite different from the typical Gorean war spear, which is commonly a weighty, formidable weapon, requiring considerable strength for its apt employment. It is usually thickly hafted, seven feet or more in length, and lengthily and broadly bladed, usually with bronze.

“Would this stop a larl?” I asked.

“A spear would be better,” he said, “if the larl were in flat country, in open country, and anticipated, but the size and weight of the spear impairs its utility as a hunting tool. The javelin is more quickly handled, and is thus more useful at short range. A larl in undergrowth may be difficult to detect, and can come at you unexpectedly, and very quickly. Similarly, given the javelin’s smaller size it is less cumbersome, and easier to take through brush and thickets. Similarly, it is lighter and, if necessary, can be carried at a run, for Ahn at a time. Try pursuing tabuk with a spear. The javelin is less tiring to bear than a spear, and more convenient, in several ways.”

“Still,” I said.

“Much depends on the location of the strike, and its penetration,” he said. “One might kill a larl with a hand knife.”

“Your animal is ready,” I said.

“He has been ready for some time,” he said.

“Let us be on our way,” I said.

Two Pani watched us cross the line of the wands. They made no attempt to stop us.

I had heard several men had been killed near the wands, as the time of launching the great ship grew closer. The Pani did not accept deserters.

We had moved past the wands no more than a few yards when Axel held up the growling, unwilling beast.

“Look,” he said, pointing.

“I see,” I said.

It was a basket, apparently discarded, lying on its side in the brush.