Pro by Dickson Gordon R

Author:Dickson, Gordon R. [Dickson, Gordon R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780441680238
Amazon: 0441680232
Goodreads: 2271856
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 1978-10-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Harb came back to himself gradually. He was lying on something soft that moved rhythmically and he felt queasy. Both his head and his neck ached. Slowly he came fully awake and realized he was lying in the mid-section of Rajn’s ship. It was early morning and they were travelling.

He tried to sit up, but at the first movement a sharp pain seemed to enter his right temple just above his eye and probed back down into his neck and shoulder. He gritted his teeth however and did sit up. Gingerly he put his hand up to his head and found it crusty and rough with dried blood that had turned his hair into an asphalt-like lump and poured down evidently as far as the base of his skull.

“Awake, Outlander?” said the voice of Rajn. “It’s time.”

Harb tried to speak; but all that came out of his mouth was a croak. He moved stiffly, his head stabbing him at each movement until he could get to the open ale barrel standing broached just beyond the cargo section. He drank from its unpleasant-tasting contents without caring that he had no lemon-flavored pill to disguise them. All that mattered was the chance to swallow water or the next available thing to it.

With the liquid in him, he felt a little better. Reviving, he was conscious of a black and burning hatred toward Rajn for making it necessary for him to get himself injured in this way. But he dared not show these feelings to the Homskarter king. He swallowed and spoke.

“What happened to me?”

“I don’t think it was an axe or a sword, Outlander,” said Rajn, coughing humorously. “Either one would have split your skull open, instead of just denting it a little. Maybe it was a mixing spoon, or a baby’s toy.”

“Where are we?”

“Headed home, of course,” said Rajn. His jocularity faded. “There are other islands and other ships, it seems. We’ll come back ready to take them all next year. Meanwhile, there were some good pickings in that one bay. We’ll even bring back your grain and prisoners — only we’ll pick them up closer to home on the way back.”

Harb looked at him, marveling.

“How long have I …”

“Slumbered? Two days now,” said Rajn.

“Two days!” Harb felt a stab of anxiety. He must have had a concussion. A concussion could be deadly out here beyond modern medical aid. On the other hand, he had already survived two days; so possibly he was all right.

So they started back to the forest villages, though not without some difficulties. There still remained those who wished to continue the sword-trail simply for the pleasure of killing and looting, even though they would not be able to carry home any more than they had now. This attitude, however, was met by strong objections by Rajn and the lesser chiefs, who clearly saw their individual advantage of taking home as many healthy warriors as possible. Finally, there was the religious question involved in carrying back such a large number of slaves as Harb wanted, slaves who would only be potential sacrifices.

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