Mariners of Gor by John Norman Read Free Book Online Page B

subjected, my stripping, and binding, and blindfolding, it seemed clear that I would not be offered the opportunity to sign articles with them, and make one with them, even were I willing, even eager, to do so. And would they not view me as their enemy, for did our ship not fire upon their mountain of wood when it trod, however unwittingly, upon our vessel? I had heard the harsh crackings, marking the launching of sets of javelins, doubtless ignited. We had tried to burn their ship, and how fearsome and dangerous is fire at sea! Too, how could I betray the Home Stone of Jad, or forswear my allegiance to my Ubar, mighty Lurius of Jad? And how could I serve with those of Ar or, say, Port Kar, sworn enemies? Of what value could I be to these men? What might they want of me? Perhaps there were free women on board, and one or another wished to amuse herself with a male silk slave. But I was not such a slave. I heard a metal gate open, and I was conducted within. There was straw underfoot. They sat me down and unbound my hands. Two blankets were pressed to me and I clutched them gratefully. The blindfold was then removed. I was in a small cell, but not the sort of stall, kennel, or cage in which a female slave is kept. In it I might stand upright, and move about. It was not, then, the sort of device, or housing, in which a female slave, designedly, is well apprised of her bondage. Outside the cell, there was a tiny tharlarion-oil lamp, which swung with the motion of the ship. The cell was in some sort of hold, or division of a hold. It was not the only cell in the hold, but it was the only one with an occupant. I wrapped myself in the two blankets and, shivering, burrowed down in the straw.
    I had not been killed, as yet, at least. What might they want of me, if anything?
    I do not know how long I slept.
    I heard no bars, marking the four watches, each of five Ahn, into which the day of a round ship is often divided. A bar signifies the beginning of a watch, struck once, twice for the second Ahn of the watch, and so on. The first watch begins with the commencement of the day’s first Ahn, the second with the sixth Ahn, the third with the eleventh Ahn, and the fourth with the sixteenth Ahn. The final division of the fourth watch commences with the twentieth Ahn. Interestingly, at least to those unaccustomed to the routine of the round ship, the bars which do not pertain to one are scarcely noticed, no more than the creaking of timbers, the wash of waves against the hull. One is not likely to much notice, and may easily sleep through, bars which do not pertain to one’s watch, but note, and even awaken to, a bar pertinent to one’s own watch. The bars are usually unobtrusive. The consistent, repetitive ringing of a bar is a signal of alarm, a sound much dreaded. To be sure, not all round ships regulate their day in this fashion. Some differences occur, port to port, Ubarate to Ubarate. Some round ships do not have recourse to bars, at all, but use clepsydras, sand glasses, and such, to mark watches, and use watch keepers to alert or rouse the pertinent watch. In this way the ship may move in silence. For example, watch bars are not used on a long ship, a ship of war. On such ships bars may, however, serve other purposes, signaling and such. On some ships they time the stroke of oars, but this is more commonly done by mallets on a copper-headed drum, or, if silence is in order, by calling the beat, from amidships. As mentioned, I heard no bars. This suggested to me, but did not prove, that this mysterious, monstrous vessel in which I found myself encelled, despite its size, was not a round ship, or, better, not a round ship as one usually thinks of such ships. At that time I understood neither its purpose nor nature. I did know it was capable of destroying a long ship, riding over it as though it did not even exist.
    “Master?” I heard.
    I opened my eyes, and rose to a sitting position, cross-legged, in the straw, the blankets