The great Cylinders of Ar rise around you, stone and gold catching the late light. Banners of the Builders - yellow and gold - hang from every tier. The crowd hushes as the procession enters...
Ortossi, Head Guard of Ar, you stand at the fore, helmet under arm, your guards in perfect line. Your voice carries over the marble:
"Talon guard! Present arms - for the Free!"
Beside you, Lina, free woman of Ar, adjusts her veils, her robes of concealment pristine white and gold. Lady Zoe stands tall beside her, chin high as befits a free woman of the city.
From the dais, the Ubar of Ar raises his hands for silence.
"People of Ar! We gather at the Cylinders of the Builders to honor Alexander - builder of works, keeper of measures, whose craft has strengthened our walls and our homes!"
A cheer rises. The Builders step forward in their yellow tunics, bearing a medallion of gold.
Ortossi - how do you command your guard to salute? Lina, Lady Zoe - do you step forward to present the garland of honor?
The deep drums of the Cylinders sound - once, twice. Dust motes dance in the shafts of light falling from the high roofs.
Ubar of Ar steps down from the dais, his scarlet robes sweeping the stone. He takes the golden medallion from the High Builder.
"Alexander! Step forward!"
A tall man in the yellow of the Builders kneels on the mosaic floor, head bowed
Ortossi - your guards strike their spears against their shields in unison. Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! The sound echoes off the cylinders. The crowd holds its breath.
Lina and Lady Zoe, as free women of honor, you are beckoned forward by the Ubar's hand. In your hands are the twin garlands - woven of yellow sa-tarna and red ka-la-na blossoms.
The Ubar speaks low, for your ears only:
"Place them upon him, Free Women. Let Ar see that courage in craft is cherished as courage in war."
Alexander looks up, eyes bright.
Lina steps forward first, her veils whispering. She lays the golden garland gently over Alexander's bowed head.
"Lift your eyes, Builder," she says, her voice clear. "Ar sees your work."
Lady Zoe follows, placing the second garland across his shoulders, her bracelets chiming.
"May your measures ever be true, and your walls never fall," Zoe intones formally.
Ortossi, you raise your sword high - the signal.
"GUARD! SALUTE!"
In one motion, twenty blades flash into the air, catching the sun through the oculus, then come down to rest before their bearers' faces. A perfect steel arch of honor.
The Ubar places the golden medallion around Alexander's neck and clasps his shoulder, raising him to his feet.
"Rise, Alexander of Ar - Honored of the Builders!"
The Cylinders erupt. Builders stamp their feet, free folk cheer, tarn cries sound distant from the parapets.
Alexander turns, tears in his eyes, and bows deeply first to the Ubar, then to Lina and Lady Zoe, then to you, Ortossi.
"I am but a servant of the City," he says hoarsely. "I will build worthy of her."
The Ubar turns to all four of you, smiling beneath his crown.
"Tonight, you shall all feast at the Central Cylinder as my guests. Let it be known - Ar honors her own!"
Ortossi barks the command, voice like iron on stone:
"Guard! Form escort! Spears high!"
Your men move as one, forming two gleaming lines from the dais to the great bronze doors of the Cylinders. The crowd parts.
The Ubar of Ar falls into step behind you, Alexander at his right hand still dazed with honor, the medallion bright on his chest.
Behind them, Lina and Lady Zoe walk side by side, heads high, the train of their robes borne by two young builders' apprentices - a rare honor granted by the caste.
As you pass through the doors, the light of the late afternoon sun floods the plaza of the Cylinders. Thousands have gathered. When they see the Ubar and the honored Builder, a roar goes up:
"AR! AR! HONOR TO THE BUILDERS!"
Children throw petals of yellow. Tarnsmen dip low in salute from the sky.
You lead the procession down the wide Avenue of the Central Cylinder, your guards' tread perfect, toward the great feast hall where tables already groan with roast bosk, black wine, and sa-tarna bread.
At the entrance, the Ubar lays a heavy hand on your shoulder, Ortossi.
"You guard the city well, Head Guard. Tonight, you do not stand at the door - tonight you sit at my table."
Lina smiles behind her veil, and Lady Zoe nods in respect to you.
The feast doors swing open, music spills out - do you take your seat of honor?
A stir at the edge of the procession - a woman in the green robes of the Physicians pushes gently through the crowd, her eyes only for the honored Builder.
Liz! Physician of Ar, partner of Alexander.
Alexander sees her and his composure breaks. He steps out of formation, medallion swinging, and takes her hands before all.
"Liz," he breathes.
She smiles, brushing a petal from his garland, heedless of protocol. Her green sleeves are rolled from her work in the infirmaries, a salve stain on her cuff - she came straight from healing to honor him.
"You did it," she whispers, loud enough for those near to hear.
The Ubar of Ar laughs heartily at the breach of ceremony.
"Ah! Shall the Builders' honor stand without the Physicians' blessing? Come, Liz of the Green Caste - join us!"
Ortossi, you signal your guards to open the line to admit her. Your stern face softens a fraction as you nod to her.
Lina steps forward and takes Liz's arm warmly, free woman to free woman.
"Stand with us, Sister," Lina says. "Your hands keep him strong to build."
Lady Zoe regards the pair with rare approval, and inclines her head.
"So the city is built - by the Builder's stone, and the Physician's care. A fitting union."
Liz blushes, but lifts her chin proudly as Alexander slips his arm around her waist, garlands rustling.
The Ubar raises his voice for all to hear:
"Make way for Liz, Physician of Ar, companion of our Honored! She feasts at the high table tonight!"
The crowd cheers anew as you lead them onward, Ortossi - now six abreast in honor.
Ortossi snaps to attention, sword flashing up:
"Forward! To the high table!"
Your guards stamp in time as you lead the way through the towering doors of the Central Cylinder feast hall.
Inside - a blaze of light. A hundred torches in bronze sconces. Long tables of polished tharlarion wood laden with plenty. The smell of roast bosk, fresh bread, and spiced wine fills the air. Musicians in the gallery strike up the March of Ar.
You halt at the dais, boots ringing, and turn on your heel.
"Ubar of Ar! Honored Alexander of the Builders and his companion Liz of the Physicians! The Free Women Lina and Lady Zoe!"
The hall rises as one, goblets lifted.
The Ubar takes his great carved chair at the center, beckoning Alexander to his right, Liz beside him in a place of honor usually reserved for high caste. He waves you forward, Ortossi.
"Sit, Head Guard. Here, at my left. Your watch is ended for tonight - let others guard the doors."
You hesitate - duty wars with honor - then at his insistent nod, you unbuckle your sword belt and take the seat, placing your helmet on the table before you as a guardsman does.
Lina and Lady Zoe are seated across, already being poured sweet black wine by serving slaves in yellow silk. Lina lifts her cup to Liz.
"To the Physician who mends the hands that build Ar!"
"To Ar!" Zoe joins, raising hers high.
Alexander stands, overwhelmed, Liz's hand in his. He lifts his cup toward all of you.
"To my Ubar - to brave Ortossi - to the noble free women - and to Liz, my heart - I will build a hundred cylinders worthy of this night!"
"TO ALEXANDER! TO LIZ!" the hall roars.
The feast begins - laughter, music, the clatter of plates. Outside, the Cylinders of the Builders glow gold against the dusk, a testament to the night's honor.
You have brought them safe to honor, Head Guard. The night is yours.
The wine flows dark and sweet. The musicians quicken their tempo - flutes and drums spinning a lively builder's reel.
The Ubar, well into his third goblet, rises swaying slightly, grinning broadly. He pounds the table, making Ortossi's helmet rattle.
"Enough of sitting like statues! This is a Builder's honor - let there be building even in dance!"
Laughter ripples down the high table.
Alexander, emboldened by honor and wine, pulls Liz to her feet. Her green robes swirl as he spins her clumsily between the tables, her laugh bright and free, the golden medallion bouncing on his chest. The hall claps in time.
Lina catches Lady Zoe's eye over their veils, a mischievous glint.
"Shall we show the Builders how free women of Ar dance, Sister?" Lina asks.
Zoe rises with dignity, then with a sudden, girlish grin, takes Lina's hands. They step into the open floor, moving in the ancient, proud circle-dance of Ar - not the dance of slaves, but the stately, defiant dance of free women, heads high, feet precise.
The crowd parts for them, clapping.
Ortossi - the Ubar slings an arm around your shoulders, nearly spilling his wine on your cuirass.
"Head Guard! Even your stone face must crack tonight! Join the dance, man!"
Your guards at the doors are grinning, trying to hold formation while tapping their spear-butts to the beat.
Ortossi rises.
A head guard does not dance. A head guard marches, drills, stands like a wall of iron.
But tonight, at the Ubar's command - and with the whole hall chanting "OR-TOS-SI! OR-TOS-SI!" - you step onto the floor.
Your boots, so sure on parade, feel suddenly heavy to the flute's quicksilver tune. Lina laughs behind her veil and takes your right hand. Lady Zoe, still proud even in revelry, takes your left.
"Left foot, Head Guard!" Zoe commands, as if drilling recruits. "Even in dance, keep time!"
Liz, breathless from spinning with Alexander, claps encouragement. "You have it, Ortossi!"
Alexander joins the circle, pulling the Ubar in after him. The circle grows - Builder, Physician, Free Women, Ubar, Guard - hand in hand, turning slowly at first, then faster as the drums pound.
Your helmet sits forgotten on the high table. Your stern face - the terror of thieves and the pride of the guard - splits into a broad, unwilling grin as Lina spins you.
The hall roars with delight to see their iron Head Guard dancing the circle of honor.
The Ubar throws his head back and shouts to the rafters:
"THIS IS AR! Builders build! Physicians heal! Guards protect! Free Women inspire! And the Ubar... the Ubar drinks!"
He drains his goblet as the circle spins on, torchlight blurring gold and green and scarlet and steel into one bright wheel.
The night of honor burns bright, and you are at its very heart.
The dance ends in a tangle of laughter - the circle breaks, and all collapse back toward the high table, breathless.
Servants rush forward with cool water and fresh wine. Liz, the Physician ever, is first to notice Ortossi's flushed face.
"Sit, Head Guard," she says firmly, pressing a cool cloth to the back of your neck with practiced hands. "Even iron must cool."
Alexander claps you on the back, his medallion glinting. "I have built walls straighter than your dance line, my friend - but never with more heart!"
A roar of laughter.
Lina lifts her veil just enough to sip her wine, eyes dancing. "You were magnificent, Ortossi. The recruits will never believe it."
Lady Zoe - ever dignified - offers you her own goblet in rare tribute. "To the Guard who guards our joy as well as our walls."
The Ubar, now sprawled in his great chair, raises his hands for silence one last time. The musicians soften.
"My people... look at this table. A Builder honored. His Physician at his side. Free Women of grace. A Guard of iron. This... this is the strength of Ar. Not stone alone."
He lifts his cup high.
"To Alexander! To Liz! To Lina! To Zoe! To Ortossi! TO AR!"
"TO AR!" the hall thunders, a hundred goblets rising.
Outside the high windows, the moons of Gor have risen over the Cylinders, silvering the gold. Inside, the feast glows on - warm, loud, and full of life.
Your watch may resume at dawn, Head Guard. But tonight, you feast.
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