The rence growers, I had learned, communicate by means of such signals, disguised as the cries of marsh gants.

The rence islands, on which the communites of rence growers dwell, are rather small, seldom more than two hundred and fifty feet. They are formed entirely from the interwoven stems of the rence plants and float in the marsh. They are generally about eight to nine feet thick and have an exposed surface above the water of about three feet; as the rence stems break and rot away beneath the island, more layers are woven and placed on the surface. Thus, over a period of months, a given layer of rence, after being the top layer, will gradually be submerged and forced dower and lower until it, at last, is the deepest layer and, with its adjacent layers, begins to deteriorate.

To prevent an unwanted movement of the island, there are generally several tethers, of marsh vine, to strong rence roots in the vicinity. It is dangerous ot neter the water to make a tether fast becasue of the predators that frequent the swamp, but several men do so at a time, once man making fast the tether and the others, with him beneath the surface, protecting him with marsh spears, or pounding on metal pieces or wooden rods to drive away, or at least to disconcert and confuse, too inquisitive, undesired visitors, such as the water tharlarion or the long-bodied, nine-gilled marsh shark.

When one wishes to move the island the tethers are simply chopped away, and the community divides itself into those who will handle the long poles and those who will move haead in rence craft, cutting and clearing the way. Most of those who handle the poles gather on the edges of the island, but within the island there are four deep rectangular wells through which the long poles may gain additional leverage. These deep center wells, actually holes cut in the island, permit its movement, though slowly when used alone, without exposing any of its inhabitants at its edges, where they might fall easier prey to the missile weapons of foes. In times of emergency the inhabitants of the island gather behind wickerlike breastworks, woven of rence, in the area of the center wells; in such an emergency the low-ceilinged rence huts on the island will have been knocked down to prevent an enemy from using them for cover, and all food and water supplies, usually brought from the eastern delta where the water is fresh, will be stored within; the circular wickerlike breastworks then form, in the center of the island, a more or less defensible stronghold, particularly against the marsh spears of other growers, and such. Ironically, it is not of much use against an organized attack of well armed warriors, such as those of Port Kar, and those against whom it might be fairly adequate, other rence growers, sledom attack communites like their own. I had heard there had not been general hostilities among rence growers for more than fifty years; their communities are normally isolated from one another, and they have enough to worry about contending with "tax collectors" from Port Kar, without bothering to give much attention to making life miserable form one another. Incidentally, when the island is to be moved under siege conditions, divers leave the island by means of the well and, in groups of two and three, attemp to cut a path in the direction of escape; such divers, of course, often fall prey to underwater predators and to the spears of enemies, who thrust down at them from the surface. Sometimes an entire island is abandoned, the community setting it afire and taking to the marsh in their marsh skiffs. At a given point, when it is felt safe, several of these skiffs will be tied together, forming a platform on which rence may be woven, and a new island will be begun.

"So," said Ho-Hak, regarding me, "you are on your way to Port Kar?" He sat upon a giant shell of the Vosk sorp, as on a sort of throne, which, for these people, I gather it was.

I knelt before him, naked and bound. Two ropes of marsh vine, besides my other bonds, had been knottend about my neck, each in the hands of a man on either side of me. My ankles had been unbound only long enough to push me stumbling from the rush craft, among the shouting women and men and children, to the throne of Ho-Hak. Then I had been forced to my knees, and my ankles had again been lashed together.

"Yes," I said. "It was my intention to go to Port Kar."

"We are not fond of men of Port Kar," Ho-Hak said.

There was a rusted, heavy iron collar riveted about the neck of Ho-Hak, with a bit of chain dangling from it. I gathered that the rence growers did not have the tools to remove it. Ho-Hak might have worn it for years. He was doubtless a slave, probably escaped from the galleys of Port Kar, who had fled to the marshes and been befriended by rence growers. Now, years later, he had come to a position of authority among them.

"I am not of Port Kar," I said.

"What is your city?" asked he.

I did not speak.

"Why do you go to Port Kar?" asked Ho-Hak.

Again I did not speak. My identity, that I was Tarl Cabot, and my mission, that I served the Priest-Kings of Gor, was not for others to know. Coming from the Sardar, I knew only that I was to travel to Port Kar and there make contact with Samos, first slaver of Port Kar, scourge of Thassa, said to be trusted of Priest-Kings.

"You are an outlaw," said Ho-Hak, as had the girl before him.

I shrugged.

It was true that my shield, and my clothes, now taken from me, bore no insignia. Ho-Hak loked at the garb of the warrior, the helmet and shield, the sword with its scabbard, and the leather-wrapped bow of supple Ka-la-na wood, with its roll of sheaf and flight of arrows. These things lay between us.

Ho-Hak's right ear twitched. His ears were ususual, very large, and with extremely long lower lobes, drawn lower still by small, heavy pendants set in them. He had been a slave, doubtless, and doubtless, judging by the collar, and the large hands and broad back, had served on the galleys, but he had been an unusual slave, a bred exotic, doubtless originally intended by the slave maters for a destiny higher than that of the galley bench.

There are various types of «exotics» bred by Gorean slavers, all of whom are to be distinguished from more normal varieties of bred slaves, such as a Passion Slaves and Draft Slaves. Exotics may be bred for almost any purpose, and some of these purposes, unfortunately, seem to be little more than to produce quaint or unusual specimens. Ho-Hak may well have been one so bred.

"You are an exotic," I said to him.

Ho-Hak's ears leaned forward toward me, but he did not seem angry. He had brown hair, and brown eyes; the hair, long, was tied behind his head with a string of rence cloth. He wore a sleeveless tunic of rence cloth, like most of the rence growers.

"Yes," said Ho-Hak. "I was bred for a collector."

"I see," I said.

"I broke his neck and escaped," said Ho-Hak. "Later I was recaptured and sent to the galleys."

"And you again escpaped," I said.

"In doing so," said Ho-Hak, looking at his large hands, heavy and powerful, "I killed six men."

"And then you came to the marshes," said I.

"Yes," he said, "I then came to the marshes."

He regarded me, the ears leaning slightly toward me, "And I brought to the marshes with me," said he, "the memory of a dozen years on the galleys, and a hatred for all things of Port Kar."

There were various rence growers gathered about, the men with their marsh spears. Almost at my side stood the blondish girl I had first seen, she who had been primarily effectual in my capture, herself acting as the bait, the lure to which I had been drawn. She stood proudly beside me, straight, her shoulders back, her chin high, as does a free woman beside a miserable slave, naked and kneeling. I was conscious of her thigh at my cheek. Over her shoulder were slung the four birds she had caught in the marches; their necks were now broken and they were tied together, two in front and two over her back. There were other women about as well, and here and there, peering between the adults, I could see children.