Magicians of Gor

23 A Message is to be Delivered

"The dung of tharlarion be smeared upon the Home Stone of Ar's Station!" cried the portly fellow. "Let it be spattered with the spew of urts!" He seized up the Home Stone from the plank on which it sat, the plank resting on two inverted wastes vats, of the sort used in insulae, in the park of the Center Cylinder, within which likes the Central Cylinder. "Not even jards of stone would pick the bones of this loathesome rock!" cried the fellow. There was laughter at this by the guards about, and several other folks, too, outside the roped-off enclosure, within which was the Home Stone on its mock pedestal. Indeed, several fellows, expecting some sort of show, had hurried to stand outside the rope, to watch. The guards, too, it seemed, remembered this fellow, and egged him on with their cries. There was a line, as well, behind the fellow, awaiting its turn to enter the roped-off circle, and, one by one, express their contempt for the "Traitress of the North" as Ar's Station was now referred to on the boards. "Surely I should kill him!" hissed Marcus to me.

"You are under no obligation to do so," I assured him, irritatedly.

"Honor deems it necessary," said Marcus, grimly, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

"Nonsense!" I said.

"Yes!" he hissed.

"Not at all!" I insisted.

I was now alarmed. When Goreans get the idea that honor is involved they suddenly become quite difficult to deal with. Moreover, Marcus, an agile fellow, could make it over the rope and get to the vicinity of the Home Stone in something like one or two jumps.

"Certainly!" he said.

"Shhh!" a fellow, turning about. "I wish to hear this!"

I hooked my right hand in the back of Marcus' knife belt. This made it difficult for him to move forward, let along get the elevation necessary for leaping over the rope.

"That was a nice blow," said a fellow nearby, turning to me, "the concept of a stone jard and likening the Home Stone to unfit mineral carrion."

"Yes," I agreed. "Deft." The jard is a small scavenging bird. It commonly moves in flocks.

"Even brilliant," said the fellow.

"I agree," I said. Boots Tarsk-Bit was also, quite unwitting of the fact, playing with his life.

"That is you holding the back of my knife belt, I trust," said Marcus, not looking about.

"Yes," I said, "it is I."

He did not remove his eyes from Boots and the Home Stone. His gaze was intense, fixed and fierce.

"Would you mind unhanding it?" he asked.

"Not at all," I said, "but not just now."

"Not even the slime slugs of Anango would take shelter beneath this rock!" cried Boots Tarsk-Bit, waving the stone about in his two hands.

"Well done!" cried a fellow, congratulating Boots on this sally.

I felt Marcus tugging at the belt.

"I told you not to come," I said to Marcus. "Then I told you to stay back." "But then I would not have been cognizant of these insults!" said Marcus.

"That is true," I admitted.

"Seremides," cried Boots, "tried to throw this miserable rock into a wastes vat. Do you know what happened? The wastes vat threw it back!"

There was laughter.

Marcus made a strange noise. Hitherto I had heard such sounds emanating only from larls and sleen.

I tightened my grip on his knife belt.

"Note these waste vats," cried Boots, indicating the two inverted vats on which the plank rested, on which the Home Stone was kept. "They are taking no chances!"

There was more laughter, even applause, at this.

"That is enough," said Marcus, grimly.

I restrained him from lunging forward.

Boots turned his head to one side and sneezed.

"At least he missed the Home Stone," said Marcus.

"Do not be too sure," I said.

"There is a line," said the officer of the guard, his eyes filled with tears, so amused had he been. "I do think another should now have his turn."

There were some cries of protest, even of dismay, about the outside of the roped-off circle.

"No, no!" cried Boots to the crowd, cheerfully, pacifying it. "It is true. The general is quite right! Let others have their chance, as well. Let me not monopolize time better distributed amongst the needs of my fellow citizens of free and glorious Ar! Let not this loathsome particle of disgusting gravel, fitting Home Stone for knaves and traitors, receive the impression that it might be I alone to whom the perfidy of its city is evident!"

He then moved about, bowing graciously, to one side or another, acknowledging applause and comments, smiling, waving, touching people here and there, and then took his way from the roped-off circle.

I removed my hand from Marcus' knife belt.

Marcus stood there. Now he seemed not angry, but shattered.

"Come away," I said.

"He failed," said Marcus to me.

"Come away," I said. I literally drew Marcus away from the rope. We then walked away, across the park and thence across the Avenue of the Central Cylinder. Another fellow was not within the circle. He was spitting, and crying out insults.

"We must go back, and try with blades," said Marcus, suddenly.

"No," I said. "We have been through that. That is not practical."

"Then he must try again, tomorrow!" said Marcus. "He must make a new attempt!" "No," I said.

"No?" asked Marcus.

"No," I said.

"We must have the stone!" said Marcus. "I shall not leave Ar without it!" "Concern yourself with the matter no longer," I said.

"I should have let him use magic," moaned Marcus.

"What?" I asked.

"In recommending that this be done by mere trickery," said Marcus, "we have lost the stone!"

"Oh?" I said.

"He could have done it by magic," said Marcus, angrily. "And it was I who discouraged him from doing so!"

"Do not be too hard on yourself," I said.

"Surely you remember his recounting of his powers? Surely you remember him asking if I wished the Central Cylinder moved, if I wished the walls of Ar rebuilt overnight, if I wished a thousand tarns tamed in one afternoon!" "Yes," I said. "I think I recall that."

"Yes," he said, miserably.

"Perhaps you should have asked for the Central Cylinder to be moved, instead," I said.

"Purloining the Home Stone would be child's play," he said, "compared to moving the Central Cylinder."

"Probably," I admitted.

"I would think it very likely," he said.

"You are probably right," I said. "But I am not an expert on such matters." "It is all my fault," he said.

"Recall clearly now," I said. "he only asked you if you wished the Central Cylinder moved, and such things. Certainly it would have been easy enough for you to have wished for that, and such things."

"What? asked Marcus.

"It is obviously one thing for him to find out if you wished to have the Central Cylinder moved, and quite another for him to move it."

"I do not understand," he said.

"It is not important," I said.

"It is all my fault that we do not have the stone," he said.

"How do you know we do not have it?" I asked.

"Do not jest," he said, angrily.

"I am serious," I said.

"I saw," he said. "I watched. I did not take my eyes from him. I watched with care. I watched with attention. I watched closely. I watched like a tarn. Nothing escaped me. Nothing, not even the tiniest of movements!"

"You did watch carefully," I said. I certainly had to give him that. He would have been watching more carefully than anyone there, unless perhaps myself. The others about, of course, would not have been watching as we were. They would not have known anything might be afoot. They would not have been suspecting anything, or looking for anything.

"Yes," he said.

"But perhaps you did not watch as carefully as you thought," I said.

"No," said Marcus. "I watched very carefully."

"But perhaps you were carefully watching in the wrong place at the wrong time," I said.

"I do not understand," he said.

"It is not important," I said.

"I must have the stone," said Marcus. "I shall not leave Ar without it!" "I do not think you will have to," I said.

"I do not understand," he said.

"Perhaps we have the stone," I said.

"No," said Marcus. "Even from here I can see it, on its plank."

"You see some stone," I said.

"It is the Home Stone of Ar's Station," he said.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"It has to be," he said. "I did not take my eyes off it the whole time." "Perhaps you only think you did not take your eyes off it the whole time," I said.

"This is not a time for joking," he said.

"Sorry," I said.

"I am prepared to rush forth and seize the stone," he said. "Are you with me?" "No," I said.

"Then I shall go alone," he said.

"I would not do so, if I were you," I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I really do not think it is necessary," I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I think we have it already," I said.

"What?" said Marcus.

"Just that," I said.

"Tal, gentlemen!" beamed Boots Tarsk-Bit, waddling up to us.

"I wanted to kill you," said Marcus to him.

"Any particular reason?" inquired Boots.

"For insulting the Home Stone of Ar's Station," said Marcus, grimly.

"I trust that your homicidal urges have now subsided," said Boots.

"Considerably," said Marcus. "Now I am depressed."

"You seem in good spirits," I said to Boots.

"What did you think of my performance? he asked.

"I thought it marvelous, brilliant, unparalleled, incomparable!" I said. "Only that?" he asked, hurt.

"Better than that, if possible," I assured him.

"Incomparably incomparable?" asked Boots.

"At least," I said.

"Yet I expect to exceed it," he said.

"You will try again, then?" asked Marcus, eagerly.

"Hold," I said. "How can you exceed the incomparably incomparable?"

"Easily," said Boots. "All that is required is that in each of one's performances one exceeds all one's previous performances, as well as those of everyone else. Thus I set new standards as I go along."

"And thus," I said, "in that fashion, is it possible for the incomparably incomparable to be outdone by the even more incomparably incomparable."

"That is it," said Boots.

"You will then try again?" asked Marcus, eagerly.

"Try what again?" asked Boots.

"To obtain the Home Stone of Ar's Station," said Marcus.

"What for?" asked Boots.

"What for?" asked Marcus.

"He already has it," I said.

Boots opened his cloak, briefly.

"It is the Home Stone?" whispered Marcus, reverently.

"I certainly hope so," said Boots.

"Do you not remember what he said in his insulae," I asked Marcus, "that it would be no more than a sneeze?"

"Yes," said Marcus. That is a Gorean expression, incidentally, that something would be no more than a sneeze.

"A sneeze," I said. "A sneeze! Do you not grasp it, the audacity of it, the humor of it?"

"No," said Marcus.

"That is when the wily rogue did it," I chuckled, "when he sneezed. We were watching him, not his hands, and that is when the substitution was made!" "Quite wrong," said Boots.

"Oh? I said.

"Yes," he said. "The substitution was made quite early in the performance, when I looked up at the clouds, speculating that they would be unlikely to bother raining on such an unworthy stone. You remember in the jokes about why they had to take it indoors and make it a Home Stone, there being nothing else to do with it, because it was causing a drought in the countryside?"

"That is not true, of course," said Marcus.

"No, of course not," said Boots. "It is really a quite nice stone."

"And it could be rained upon like any other stone," said Marcus.

"Of course," agreed Boots.

"It comes from a well-watered area, in the Vosk Basin," said Marcus.

"I am sure of it," said Boots.

"I remember," I said. "The substitution was made so early? I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"Not when you sneezed?" I said.

"No," he said. "It is often my practice to make the substitution early, before the audience is really ready to watch for it. They are not yet that alert. Then one acts as though the substitution, if it is a magic show, is to take place later. One may even hint at times and ways of doing it, and have the audience crying out, thinking they have caught you, but then they are mystified when you show them that things are not as they thought. Also, if the substitution is made late, people may perhaps even recall, remembering things they did not pay attention to at the time, or deduce what must have occurred. Thus, you wish to give them a great deal to think about after the actual substitution. One does not just do the substitution and rush off. That might suggest the time at which, for example, and perhaps even the manner in which, the substitution had taken place. To be sure, this was not really a performance of that sort because no one, except you two, I suppose, was expecting anything of the sort. Indeed, it was, all things considered, little more than a brief, startling revelation of comedic brilliance, with a casual substitution thrown in. You will never know the temptation I felt to show both Home Stones afterwards, so that the audience might come to a fuller appreciation of the entire matter."

"It is good that you resisted that temptation," said Marcus.

"I think so," said Boots.

"You might have been roasted alive within the Ahn," said Marcus.

"In my thinking on the matter I did not neglect to take such considerations into my calculations," said Boots. "I permitted them to exert their influence, to add their weight, so to speak, to the scales."

"Know that we, for what it is worth, and all those of Ar's Station," said Marcus, "appreciate your brilliance!"

"Thank you," said Boots..

"We salute you!" he said.

"Thank you," said Boots.

"You did not do it when you sneezed? I asked.

"No," he said.

"Why then did you sneeze?" I asked.

"My nose itched," he said.

"Then," said Marcus, pleased, "if the substitution was made early you were not, most of the time, reviling the actual Home Stone of Ar's Station."

"True," said Boots.

"And I almost killed you for nothing," marveled Marcus.

Boots shuddered.

"You nose itched?" I asked.

"Yes," said Boots.

"I think," I said, "that you should prepare to leave the city as soon as possible."

"No," said Boots.

"Tonight," said Marcus.

"No," said Boots.

"Marcus is going to assist me tomorrow," I said. "But he will catch up with you, with a slave, Phoebe." I looked at Boots. "No?" I asked.

"No," said Boots. "Tomorrow night is better. If the substitution is discovered today, on the same day I was within the circle, and I left the city today, this might seem too improbably to be a mere coincidence. It seems likely that it might be conjectured I was in flight."

"He is right, of course," I said.

"Yes," said Marcus, in anguish.

Both Marcus and I, of course, now that the Home Stone was in our keeping, were anxious for it to be on its way north.

"Perhaps it is just as well," I said. "Then, if all goes well, Marcus and Phoebe can leave with you tomorrow."

"If all goes well?" asked Boots.

"You need not assist me, of course," I said to Marcus.

"I will assist you," he said.

"My thanks," I said.

"What of you?" asked Boots.

"Do not concern yourself with me," I said.

"You are remaining in Ar?" asked Boots.

"For the time," I said.

"If the fraudulent Home Stone is a plausible duplicate," said Marcus, "it should not matter too much. The substitution might never be discovered."

"Ah," said Boots, beaming. "But the substitution will be discovered, and probably quite soon, doubtless within a few days at the most."

"What?" Marcus.

"You do not wish the duplicate to be a plausible duplicate," said Boots. "If it were, Seremides, and the Ubara, and their minions, could pretend it is still the Home Stone of Ar's Station. Indeed, they might challenge the authenticity of the stone which reaches Port Cos, should we make it that far."

Marcus regarded him, astonished.

"It must be clear to everyone," said Boots, "that the true Home Stone of Ar's Station has been snatched from under their very noses."

"Such things would surely weaken the grip of Cos in the city," I said. "Such things would surely give heart to Ar. Indeed, such things have toppled regimes." "I have made certain that there are many small discrepancies between the original and the copy," said Boots, "but mostly they are such as would be noticed only by one quite familiar with the Home Stone of Ar's Station." "And few of Ar's Station are in Ar," said Marcus, "and of those of Ar's Station who might be in Ar, presumably few would approach their Home Stone under these circumstances, when expected to revile it."

"And if they did notice these differences," said Boots, "one might plausibly suppose they would not hasten to bring them to the attention of the guardsmen."

"I would think not," smiled Marcus.

"But then," I said, "if these differences are subtle, might not authenticity be claimed for the fraudulent stone?"

"I can guarantee that it will not be," said Boots.

"How can you guarantee that?" I asked.

"If you have noticed," said Boots, "and I certainly have, for I made it a point to note such things, and over a period of several days, almost no one touches the Home Stone. I was very unusual in picking it up and handling it. It is flat, and it lies on its board."

"Yes?" I said.

"So I took the liberty," he said, "I the fraudulent stone, of cutting a message into its under surface, and, indeed, of even coloring the lettering."

"What is the message?" I asked.

"It is simple," said Boots. "It says "I am not the Home Stone of Ar's Station.""

"That seems clear enough," I said.

"And I took the further liberty," said Boots, "of adding an additional remark."

"What was that?" I asked.

" "Down with Cos, " he said.

"Flee now," said Marcus, in dismay.

"But think," said Boots. "If you were in the guard, and you discovered that the stone was fraudulent, surely you would fear either that the stone had been stolen in your watch, or would be thought to have been stolen in your watch."

"Yes!" I said.

"Accordingly," said Boots. "It seems to me more likely that the guards would manage to overlook the matter, and turn over the stone to the next watch, as though nothing were amiss, thus letting the next watch, or the next, and so on, worry about the matter. Certainly it would be embarrassing, if not absolutely dangerous, to have the substitution discovered during, or at the end, of one's tour of duty."

"You are a clever fellow, Boots," I said.

"Also, the guards are mostly fellows of Ar," said Boots. "Thus I do not think they would take the same offense or manifest the same zeal in these matters as might be expected of Cosians."

"They might even relish the matter," I said.

"Possibly," said Boots. "On the other hand, I do not think they, either, would be eager for the substitution to be discovered on their watch."

"No," I said. "I would not think so."

"Accordingly," said Boots, "I think we need not fear that the substitution will be too promptly discovered."

"Or, at any rate," I said, "too promptly reported."

"Precisely," smiled Boots.

"You will arrange your rendezvous tomorrow evening with Marcus?" I asked. "Of course," said Boots.

I pressed a heavy purse into the hands of Boots Tarsk-Bit.

"The weight of this suggests a great many copper tarsks," said Boots, surprised. "Count it later," I said. "Conceal it now."

"My robe does contain a few interior pockets," he said. The purse disappeared inside the robe.

"I shall not enter the details of this," I said, "but in the north, last summer, in virtue of an unusual combination of circumstances, Marcus came into the possession of a large fortune, one hundred pieces of gold."

"One hundred?" asked Boots, startled.

"Yes," I said, rather pleased that I had, for once, managed to startle the greet Boots Tarsk-Bit, or Renato, the Great, as he now called himself.

"But he gave me the hundred pieces of gold," I said, "for a slave."

Boots regarded Marcus, aghast.

"She is worth ten thousand, and more," said Marcus, defensively.

"It is not that he is really insane," I said. "There are special circumstances involved."

"Too," said Marcus, angrily, "I did not know at the time that she was a Cosian!"

"That does make a great deal of difference," said Boots.

"Else a copper tarsk or two might have been too much," said Marcus.

"Doubtless," said Boots.

"You see," I said, "there are special considerations here. You note the discrepancy between, say, ten thousand pieces of gold, or more, and one or two copper tarsks."

"She is not for sale, anyway, for any price," said Marcus.

"Though I am not of the scribes," said Boots, "I did note the discrepancy."

"And that is how I obtained one hundred pieces of gold in the north," I said. "And you wish to convey this paragon of beauty to the north?" asked Boots.

"You do not object, do you?" I asked.

"Certainly not," said Boots. "After all, that will give us something to do in leisure moments, fighting off armies from all directions, fending away clouds of mercenaries, battling hands of brigands, attempting to turn back innumerable waves of eager, lustful ruffians, and such."

"I do not understand," I said.

"I do," said Marcus, pleased.

"I agreed to transport a Home Stone to Port Cos," said Boots, "not to risk traveling with one of the most fabulously desirable and beautiful women on Gor in my train."

"She is certainly that," agreed Marcus. "You could always keep her in a box, or sack.

"I am certainly eager to see this slave," said Boots.

"Despite the convictions and the enthusiasm of Marcus in this matter," I said, "well warranted though they doubtless are, I should make clear to you that they might not be shared, at least to his extent, by all casual observers."

"I suppose that is possible," said Marcus, reflectively, in a mood of uncommon charity.

"This is not to deny that the girl is an exquisite slave," I said, "and Marcus is training her very well."

"What would she sell for?" asked Boots, bluntly.

"In a common market," I asked, "with nothing specials knows about her?"

"Yes," he said.

"I would guess for something like two or two and a half silver tarsks," I said. "She is quite lovely then," he said.

"Yes, but there are thousands upon thousands like her on Gor," I said, "and it is not like armies of tarnsmen would be launched to acquire her."

"I see," said Boots, relieved.

"What do you think Telitsia would sell for?" I asked.

"Probably about the same," he said.

"But you would not sell her?"

"No," smiled Boots, "She is not for sale."

"Then it is the same," I said.

"Not really," said Boots. "Telitsia makes an excellent Brigella, and she is excellent about one's feet and thighs. She is devoted, and loving, and it is hardly ever necessary to whip her now."

"It is seldom necessary to whip Phoebe now," said Marcus.

"Yes, yes," I said. "I am sure they are both excellent slaves."

"I trust," said Boots, "that the purse I have received, which was unusually heavy, contains the equivalent of at least a gold piece.

"Surely you trust me," I said.

"I trust you," said Boots. "It is only that I am wary of your mathematics."

"Have no fear," is said. To be sure, there was more to what Boots was saying then might be evident at first sight. It was not that I had difficulty in adding and subtracting, of course, but rather that I was not always as knowledgeable as I might be about the relative values of various coins, of numerous cities, which, of course, depended on such things as compositions and weights, and exchange rates, which might fluctuate considerably. For example, if a city debases its coinage, openly or secretly, perhaps as an economy measure, to increase the amount of money in circulation, or there is a rumor to that effect, this will be reflected in the exchange rates. Many Gorean bankers, not only the fellows sitting on a rug in their booth on a street, their sleen about, but also those in the palaces and fortresses on the "Streets of Coins," work with scales. Too, sometimes coins are literally chopped into pieces. This is regularly done with copper tarsks to produce, usually, the eight tarsk bits equivalent in most cities to the copper tarsk. Every year at the Sardar Fair there is a motion before the bankers, literally, the coin merchants, to introduce a standardization of coinage among the major cities. To date, however, this has not been accomplished. I did not feel it was really fair of Boots to call attention to my possible lack of expertise in these matters. I was not, after all, of the merchants, nor, among them, of the coin merchants.

"The purse contains no copper tarsks," I said.

"What?" said Boots.

"Of the hundred gold pieces we acquired in the north, we had only some ninety left," I said. "I am sorry. You must understand, however, we have had expenses, a long journey, that prices in Ar are high, particularly for decent food and rented lodging, that we have needed money for bribes, for example, to obtain information, and such, that we have given some away, and so on. I have put half of those, forty-five pieces of gold in the purse. They are yours."

"I do not understand," said Boots.

"I have kept the other forty-five," I said, "because I may need them, tomorrow. I do not know."

"That is too much money," said Boots.

"Do not be concerned for us," I said. "We have other moneys, as well, from donations received, so to speak, from a fellow, or so here and there, usually met in remote areas in dark places, and from fees taken in service."

"We agreed on two pieces of gold," said Boots, "at most."

"So we now break our agreement," I said.

"You would do that?" he asked.

"We might," I said.

"Scoundrels," he said.

"Simply suppose that we are mad," said Marcus. "Just take them, and with them, our undying gratitude, and that of Ar's Station."

"I cannot take so much," said Boots.

"You are Boots Tarsk-Bit?" I asked.

"I think so," he said. "At least that is what I have suspected for years."

"Then take the money," I said.

"Give me a moment," he said. "Let me collect myself. Let me recall myself to myself. I did not expect this. Give me time. My greed has been taken unawares. It staggers. It reels. Such generosity would give pause to even the most robust avarice."

"We obtained the money with little effort," I said. "It is not as though a village of peasants had hoed suls for it, for a century, or anything."

"I am relieved to hear it," said Boots. "I had been much concerned with that."

"Indeed," I said, "it is, in a sense, purloined treachery money, from traitors in Ar."

"It is my duty to accept it?" asked Boots.

"Certainly your right," I said.

"Perhaps I might be persuaded to accept it," he said, "for the arts."

"Be persuaded then," I said, "for the arts."

"Done!" said he.

"Excellent," I said.

"The arts and I thank you," he said.

"You are welcome," I said, "all of you."

We clasped hands.

"I can double this overnight at the gaming tables," he said.

"But do not do so until after delivering the Home Stone to Port Cos," I said. He looked at me, stricken.

"Yes," I said, sternly.

"Very well," he said.

We then again clasped hands. In a moment Boots had hurried off.

"The Home Stone must reach Port Cos," said Marcus.

"You can help to assure it," I said. "You will travel with them, as I once did, as a roustabout, leaving tomorrow evening."

"I am pleased," said Marcus, "that we managed to persuade him to accept the money."

"It was difficult," I said. "But we won out."

"Largely," said Marcus, "it was due to your persuasive powers."

"Come now," I said. "You were quite persuasive yourself."

"Do you think so?" he asked.

"Certainly," I said.

"I was afraid for a time he would refuse to accept the fortune we urged upon him."

"Yes," I agreed. "It was nip and tuck for a time."

"But that business about the arts," said Marcus. "That is what did it."

"Yes," I said. "That is his weak spot."

"What now?" he asked.

"I must arrange for a message to be delivered to Appanius," I said, "tomorrow morning."