"Yes," I said.

Phoebe rose to her feet beside her master, clinging to him, pressing herself to him, soft, her head down. He nestled her in his arms. How must she was his! "Tomorrow," said Marcus. "I would conjecture that Myron will have a triumph."

"More likely the Ubar of Cos, by proxy," I said.

"Doubtless its jubilation and pomp will dwarf the celebrations of this morning."

"Ar will do her best, I am sure, to officially welcome, and express her gratitude to, her liberator, the great Lurius of Jad," I said.

"Represented by his captain, and cousin, Myron, polemarkos of Temos," he said. This was Myron's exact title, incidentally. Temos is one of the major cities on the island of Cos. The crowd, of course, or many in it, regarded him simply as the polemarkos, or, say, understandably enough, and, I suppose, correctly enough, as the polemarkos of Cos.

"Of course," I said.

"Seremides will doubtless participate in the triumph," he said.

"He should," I said. "It is his, as well. He has doubtless worked hard and long to realize such a day."

"And Talena," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"You sound bitter," he said.

"Perhaps," I said.

"Myron did not accept the sword of Seremides," he said.

"That is understandable," I said.

"I suppose so," he said.

"Certainly," I said.

The acceptance of the sword would have constituted a public token of the surrender of Ar's forces, foot and cavalry, both tarn and tharlarion. That Myron had refused to accept it publicly on the platform was fully in keeping with the pretense of liberation.

"It is my speculation," I said, "that the sword was surrendered yesterday, in the tent of Myron, or, more likely, before his troops, outside the city, and then, later, privately returned."

"Yes!" said Marcus. "I wager you are right!"

"The troops of the polemarkos would expect such a thing," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"So, too, would Lurius of Jad," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"In any event," I said, "with or without such tokens, the surrender of Ar is complete. It has been clearly and indisputable effected. Resistance to Cos has been ordered to cease. The forces of Ar, such as remain of them, have laid down their arms. They will presumably be soon reduced in numbers, perhaps to handfuls of guardsmen subject to Cosian officers, if not completely disbanded and scattered. Weapons will presumable, in time, be outlawed in the city. Her gates have been burned. I would expect, eventually, that her walls, stone by stone, will be taken down. She will then be utterly vulnerable, dependent completely on the mercies of Cos or her puppets."

"It will be the end of a civilization," said Marcus.

"A civilization of sorts will remain," I said, "and arts of a sort, a literature of a sort, and such things."

"Perhaps Gor will be the better for it," said Marcus, bitterly.

I was silent.

"How will the men retain their manhood?" he asked.

"Perhaps they will manage," I said. I had great respect for the men of Ar. "And what will become of the women?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said. "If the men do not retain their manhood, it will be difficult, or impossible, for the women, at least those who are in relationships to such men, to be women."

"Yes," he said.

"Cos," I said, "is master on Gor." I recalled that Dietrich of Tarnburg had feared such an eventuality, the coming of sovereignty of a major power. Such might mean the end of the free companies.

"Only in a sense," said Marcus.

I regarded him.

"In many cities and lands, indeed, in most parts of the world," he said, "things will be surely much as they were before."

I considered such things as the difficulties of communication, the difficulties of maintaining supply lines, the lengths of marches, the paucity of roads, the isolation of cities, the diversities of cultures and such.

"I think you are right," I said.

It would be merely that Cos would now be the dominant force on the continent. Also, geopolitically, it did not seem likely that Cos could indefinitely maintain her power. Her seat of power was overseas and her forces were largely composed of mercenaries who were difficult to control and expensive to maintain. The recent campaigns of Lurius of Jad must have severely drained the treasury of Cos, and perhaps of Tyros, too, her ally. To be sure, her outlays might now be recouped here and there, for example, from conquered Ar. Cos had succeeded in defeating Ar. It was not so clear, I now realized, that she had managed to guarantee and secure her own hegemony indefinitely. Indeed, with Ar vulnerable and helpless, nullified militarily, if the power of Cos should collapse, a new barbarism might ensue, at least within the traditional boundaries of Ar, a lawless barbarism broken here and there by the existence of minor tyrannies, places where armed men imposed their will.

"I do not hear the bars any longer," said Marcus. "Nor the crowds."

"Nor do I," I said.

It now seemed quiet at the park of the Central Cylinder, save for the sounds of the workmen, striking apart the boards of the platform. Few people, too, were about. Some papers blew across the park, some of them tiny banners of colored paper, banners of both Cos and Ar.

Again I considered the platform. On it Talena had stood, barefoot.

"Look," I said to Marcus, indicating some of the boards removed from the platform and piled to one side.

"What?" he asked.

"The boards," I said, "on their upper surfaces, they are smoothed."

"And from the reflection of light, sealed," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Doubtless prepared for the feet of the noble Talena," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Unusual solicitation for a penitent or suppliant," said Marcus.

"Yes," I granted him.

"But we would not wish to risk her little feet, would we?" Marcus asked Phoebe. "No, Master," said Phoebe.

Although Marcus had spoken in irony, Phoebe's response was quite serious, and appropriately so. She did not even begin to put herself in the category of a free woman. An unbridgeable and, to the slave, terrifying chasm separates any free woman on Gor from a slave, such as Phoebe.

"It is regrettable, is it not," Marcus asked Phoebe, "that she was forced to appear degradingly unshod?"

"Yes, Master," said Phoebe, "for she is a free woman."

Indeed, I suppose that it had cost Talena much to be seen in public, barefoot. Phoebe, of course, was barefoot. That is common with slaves.

I watched another board being thrown on the pile.

For the most part the platform was held together by wooden pegs, pounded through prepared holes. In this way I supposed it might be easily reassembled. Perhaps there was some intention that it might be used again, perhaps, say, for the coronation of a ubara.

Then the portion of the platform nearest us was down.

I wondered how Talena might look on another sort of platform, say, on an auction platform, stripped and in chains, being bid upon by men. such a surface, would be likely to be quite smooth to her feet, too, presumably having been worn smooth by the bared feet of numerous women before her.

"Let us seek lodging," said Marcus.

"Very well," I said.