Mercenaries of Gor

She looked up. "It is only a theory, is it not?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

She shook, clinging to the rail.

"To be sure," I said, "it may be a true theory." She did not respond. I then, seeing that she was distressed, returned to my seat. After a time, she returned to, too, to her place on the bench. She did not meet my eyes, then, nor those of Hurtha, nor, I think, of any of the other men in the cart.

19 The Checkpoint

"They are gone!" I whispered, tensely.

"What are gone?" asked Hurtha, sitting up in the furs, a few feet from me. The camp had been stirring now for better than an Ahn.

"The letters of safety," I said, "those of safe conduct for our party." "What is wrong?" asked Boabissia, her hair wet and loose, come from the nearby stream, where she had washed it.

"Our letters of safety," I said, "are gone. I had them here, in the sheath." "Perhaps they have fallen out," she said.

"No," I said. "They were firmly lodged within. They could be withdrawn only purposefully."

"There is supposedly a checkpoint down the road," said Boabissia. "I heard of it last night."

"So, too, doubtless," said I, "did the thief."

"We were all about," said Boabissia. "How could anyone have done it?" "Presumably it could have been done only by one practiced in stealth, who knew for what he was searching, and where it might be found. He might even have had a tool for the extraction of the papers."

"The blade was in the sheath, was it not," asked Boabissia, "and the sheath beside you?"

"Yes," I said, "and the sheath was on its strap, slung about my shoulder. The blade would have had to be removed, I assume, and then replaced, after the extraction of the papers."

"Why would it be replaced?" asked Hurtha. "That the absence of the papers not be immediately noticed," I said. "I would not have noticed the matter had I not, as a matter of habit, this morning, tested the draw of the blade."

This habit, u

"Such skill seems impossible," said Boabissia. "Who is there who could of done such a thing?"

"Some warriors could have done it," I said. "Many red savages could have done it."

"But who is about here?" asked Boabissia.

"Some thief," I said, "one who is highly skillful, one worthy even of the thief's scar of Port Kar, though I doubt he wears it." The thief's scar in Port Kar is a tiny, three pronged brand, burned into the face over the right cheekbone. It marks the members of the Caste of Thieves in Port Kar. That is the only city in which, as far as I know, there is a recognized caste for thieves. They tend to be quite proud of their calling, it being handed down often from father to son. There are various perquisites co

"Did you see anything?" asked Boabissia.

"No, Mistress," said Feiqa, putting her head down.

"Stupid slave," said Boabissia.

"Yes, Mistress," whispered Feiqa, not looking up.

"Are such papers needed at the checkpoint?" asked Hurtha.

"Quite possibly," I said. "We are near Ar. I do not know."

"In this camp," said Boabissia, "it seems unlikely that there could have been so skilled a thief."

"Not necessarily," I said.

"I think Feiqa took them," said Boabissia.

"No, Mistress!" cried Feiqa.

"Let her be tortured for truth," said Boabissia. It is legal in Gorean courts for the testimony of slaves to be taken under torture. Indeed, it is commonly done.

"Please, no, Mistress!" wept Feiqa.

"It would have been difficult for her to have done so," I told Boabissia, "for last night her hands were chained behind her, that she might awaken me intimately, not using her hands, at dawn."

"Disgusting," said Boabissia.

"I then put her to her back and caressed her, while recovering, until she begged to be put to further use, to which plea I acceded. I then, when pleased to do so, a time or so later released her."

"Disgusting," said Boabissia.

"But she is only a slave," I said.

"True," said Boabissia. Then she looked at Feiqa. "Slut," she said. "Yes, Mistress," said Feiqa, not meeting her eyes.

How Boabissia hated Feiqa! Did she really think it was wrong, or improper for Feiqa to give her master such incredible pleasure? I did not think so. Feiqa, after all, was a slave. It was one of her purposes. I think it was rather that she was intensely jealous of Feiqa, that she keenly resented that she, the proud Boabissia, being free, was not subject to the same imperious enforcements. "No thief so skilled, surely," said Boabissia, "would be with the refugees," She continued to regard the trembling Feiqa balefully. "It must have been the slave. Let her be tortured."

Feiqa moaned.

"It could not have been Feiqa," I said to Boabissia. "Last night her hands were secured," I reminded her, "chained behind her back."

"Then who?" asked Boabissia.

"Perhaps you," said Hurtha, coming up behind Boabissia and holding her by the upper arms, from behind. His grasp, I gathered, was not gentle.

"No," said Boabissia. "No!" She squirmed. She was as helpless as a slave in Hurtha's grip.

"Perhaps it is you who should be put under torture," growled Hurtha.

"No, no!" said Boabissia. "I am free."

"It would not be impossible for a skilled thief to be with the refugees," I said. "It would be necessary only that he, or she, had been turned out of Torcadino with other citizens."

"Do you know of such a person?" asked Hurtha.

"Yes," I said.

"Who?" asked Hurtha.

"Wait here," I said.

"Who?" asked Hurtha.

"One called Ephialtes, of Torcadino," I said. "I was warned about him." "Let me come with you," he said. "I shall break his neck."

"That will not recover the letters," I said. "Wait here."

"Some of the carts, and many of the refugees, have already left," said Boabissia, pulling her free of Hurtha's hands, he loosening his grip. She was shaking. She was not accustomed to having been so helplessly in the power of a man, as helplessly, it might seem, as might have been a slave.

"Please, Mistress," wept Feiqa. "I did not steal the letters. I could not have done so, even if I had dared to do so, which I would not in my life have dared to do. Do not ask to have Feiqa tortured. Please be kind to Feiqa." "You are a slave," snapped Boabissia, "and, as such, are subject to torture, or to whatever free persons desire to do to you."

"Yes, Mistress," wept Feiqa, shuddering.