Free Rebels of Gor by John Norman Page A

token of his good will and affection.”
    As noted earlier Tyrtaios had not come alone. With him had come certain officers of General Yamada, presumably to monitor the proceedings and, later, to report upon them to the shogun, and several Ashigaru. These Ashigaru were unarmed, but each bore a large silk-covered hamper. At a gesture from Tyrtaios they brought the hampers forward, and placed them on the dais, across its front. They removed the silken covers and we noted the hampers were heaped with fruits, vegetables, cakes of rice, smoked fish, layers of dried, salted meat, and stoppered vessels which I supposed might contain sake, and perhaps, considering the continental mercenaries in the camp, none of whom had been permitted, save myself, to attend these proceedings, paga and ka-la-na.
    Again I expected more of a response amongst the Pani at these abundances of displayed largesse, but was disappointed. Tyrtaios, too, seemed, surprised at the lack of response amongst the Pani.
    Over the past weeks it had become more and more difficult to supply the holding. This was largely the result of two factors, the number of fields and farms now denied to us by the Ashigaru of Yamada, and the reduction of supplies, the thinning of flocks and the depletion of resources, at those villages still accessible to us. Too, though our supply lines could not be cut, given tarns, they were now considerably attenuated. In brief, supplies were scarce, and growing more scarce, day by day, and it took longer and longer, ever longer, from day to day, to obtain and deliver them to the holding. Too, understandably, peasants, uncertain of the war’s outcome, and in danger of starvation themselves, had begun to horde and conceal food. I neglected to convey this intelligence to Lord Temmu, as we were to discipline uncooperative retainers by means of the torch and sword. I personally saw little benefit to be derived from the pursuit of such a policy. Too, I was not a butcher. At the cavalry’s encampment matters, though austere, were less harrowing and strained, given the smaller numbers involved, and the availability of local game, tarsk, tabuk, and verr.
    “The generosity of Lord Yamada is noted,” said Lord Nishida.
    “Feast!” said Tyrtaios, gesturing to the heaped hampers of food and drink.
    But no one rushed upon the hampers, crying out, crowding, and thrusting, to seize food.
    “How soon,” asked Tyrtaios, “may we expect to receive your capitulation? How soon may we expect you to abandon the holding?”
    “The holding stands,” said Lord Nishida.
    “You are starving!” cried Tyrtaios, angrily.
    “You think matters severe, so truly severe, so severe as that?” inquired Lord Nishida.
    “Yes,” said Tyrtaios.
    “Even if it were true, how would it be known to you?” inquired Lord Nishida.
    Tyrtaios did not respond.
    I supposed Tyrtaios’ claim might have been based on rational conjecture, but I supposed, as well, and more plausibly, that communication, of some sort, existed between the holding and the pavilion of Lord Yamada, far below in the plain.
    “It is a matter of time, and not a great deal of time,” said Tyrtaios, “until resistance must end, until the holding must fall. In a few days, or less, your men will be too weak to man the walls and hold the gates.”
    “Meanwhile, the holding stands,” said Lord Nishida.
    “I warn you,” said Tyrtaios, “the patience of Lord Yamada is not inexhaustible.”
    I feared there was much in what Tyrtaios had said. It seemed likely to me that the garrison, both Pani and mercenary, must soon succumb, if not to the enemy, then to hunger. I myself, several days ago, would have preferred a sallying forth from the holding, to charge, however fruitlessly, upon the enemy, that one might at least, enweaponed, facing the enemy, die as befits the warrior. Even the urt will snarl and attack the sleen rather than die of hunger in its den. But now I feared it was too late, even for the flourish of