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The Tarn
The Larl
Quotes
All Right Reserved by MercurialDesignz (MDz). Design and Script by: Wolfgang / R. Rolfe with Reference material by: John Norman (C) 2011-2012
Music provided by: Oliver Shanti "Taichi"
Music provided by: Oliver Shanti "Taichi"
Quotes from Swordsmen of Gor
Those brought to Tarncamp were, I had gathered from Pertinax, mercenaries, bandits, brigands, thieves, murderers, wanderers, low men, cast-off men, men lost from Home Stones, and such. Many, I understood, had come from the occupational forces now expelled from Ar. The word of such men might be as the rustle of the wind amidst leech plants. Their loyalties would on the whole be to their own hides and purses. They would on the whole be as much for hire as the Assassins, save that the Assassin, once the dagger has been painted on his forehead, signaling he is hunting, is loyal to a fee.
Swordsmen of Gor - page 343
“He is Ronen,” said Tajima. “A fellow of the waves, as it is said; one with no home, one carried by the current, one with no master, no captain. There are many such.”
“A mercenary?” I suggested.
“Ah, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima, “how little you know of these things.”
“Doubtless.” I said.
“Loyalty,” said Tajima, “is required of the warrior. His lord must be dead, or imprisoned. Or it may be he was betrayed by his lord, or that his lord proved unworthy of his devotion. It is lonely for the Ronen. One remembers. One does not forget. Over the ice a cloud drifts. The bird clings to the cold branch. It cries its pain in the night.”
Swordsmen of Gor - page 288 & 289
"You brought a dangerous animal on board," he said.
"No more dangerous, surely," I said, "than ten larls."
"They are caged," he said.
"Not at Tarncamp," I said.
"The larl is large and noble," said Lord Nishida. "The sleen is sly and treacherous."
"It may one day save your life," I said.
"How is that?" he said.
"It is alert to menance, to deceit," I said.
"It is a beast," he said.
"An unusual beast," I said.
"It is a mystical thing," he smiled, "something magical, possessing a gift of divination?"
"Not at all," I said. "I think it has to do with scent, and with changes in a body, reticences, tensings, an incipient readiness to spring, restrained, such things."
Swordsmen of Gor - page 582
We were some twenty yards from the fellow, who was engaged, I supposed, in certain martial exercises, certainly of a rather stylized, formal nature. I had never seen anything exactly like this before. He was standing, and sometimes wheeled about, gracefully. He had two hands on an unusual
sword, with which he described certain evolutions, thrusts, strokes, a return to guard, and so on. It seemed ritualistic, but he was certainly intent on what he was doing. I had the sense of a severe concentration.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 224
I had, in wandering about, intended, for my interest, to cross the border of the wands, to scout the area, but I had been warned back by a prowling larl, which was, as nearly as I could determine, although it was not collared, a guard beast. I understood then why the camp, despite the richness of timber about, was not palisaded, at least not in the sense of being encircled by a close-set wall of sharpened palings. It did, of course, in a sense, have its palisade. Such beasts were its palisade.
Swordsmen of Gor page 255
At that moment I heard the roar of a larl.
"Do not be dismayed," said Tajima, "it is from the pavilion
of Lord Nishida."
"It sounds close," I said.
"It is," said Tajima. "There is the pavilion."
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 270
Lord Nishida was garbed in white robes. He sat crosslegged, within his pavilion, on a low, flat platform of lacquered wood, some twelve feet square. Beside him, one on each side, lay two swords, one short, one long, each with a large, slightly curved hilt, wrapped in silk, and a curved blade. The longer of the two swords was not unlike that carried by Tajima, thrust in his belt, edge uppermost. Lord Nishida's countenance was refined, even delicate, but refined and delicate in the way a light, carefully edged weapon is refined and delicate, as, for example, the shorter of the two blades beside him.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 271
At the edges of the lacquered platform, one on each side, crouched two larls. Behind Lord Nishida, at the back of the platform, stood six of the "strange men," each armed with a glaive, the blade of which, socketed in its stout pole, was some two-and-a-half feet in length, and curved. It was presumably an infantry weapon. It could be used for either thrusting or slashing. It would not be thrown. Whereas I would not have anticipated difficulty in getting behind one such weapon, it would be exceedingly dangerous if there were two such weapons, as an aggressor would be likely to be vulnerable to the blow of the second weapon. As the glaive is used most effectively forward or to the soldier's left, if the wielder is right-handed, one would try to keep to the wielder's right.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 273
I glanced to the two women of the "strange men" on the lacquered platform. They were looking upon Cecily, but I saw no sign of envy, hostility, or jealously. This was quite different from the way in which a Gorean free woman would look upon a slave girl. They see the slave girl as a vulnerable, but hated rival, with whom, for the interest of men, they could not begin to compete. These women, however, seemed to view Cecily more as one might have a lovely pet, doubtless of great interest to men but not really constituting a threat to themselves, and their position. I would later learn that these
were, indeed, "contract women," who, as girls, were often sold to pleasure houses, most often by their parents. Sometimes, too, they would sell themselves to such a house, to be trained in arts of pleasure, for example, music, dancing, singing, conversation, and such. As their contracts could be
bought and sold they were, in effect, slaves, but they were not thought of as such. For example, they occupied an understood, accepted, and generally respected niche in their society. They were not tunicked, not branded, not collared, and so on. They were not "collar-girls." Indeed, they regarded
themselves, without arrogance, and with much justification, as far superior to collar-girls. They were, in their view, in a different category altogether. The collar-girl was an animal who might be put to the straw in a stable, and would not even be permitted within the refined precincts of the pleasure
house. The collar-girl was ignorant of the simplest things, even the proper serving of tea, the careful, delicate, symbolic arrangements of flowers, and such. She would be of little interest to a gentleman, save for her performance of lengthy, servile labors, and her squirmings, gaspings, moanings,
thrashings, and beggings, perhaps back-braceleted, in his arms. Certainly the contract women knew the attractions of simple collar-girls for males, but they did not regard them as rivals. When, wearied of a world's concerns, he wished to spend a leisurely, elegant evening, gratifying his various cultivated senses, physical, intellectual, and aesthetic, his choice would not be the collar-girl, but the women trained to comfort and delight him in traditional and cultural manners. Interestingly, though I suppose there must be exceptions to this generalization, the women of the "strange men" seem
generally reconciled to the fact, and will even expect, that their males will seek gratifications beyond the walls of their own domiciles. Nothing culturally heinous seems to be associated with this matter. As many companionships are arranged between families, with considerations not of love, or even of attraction, paramount, but of wealth, prestige, status, and such, and the young people often being scarcely considered in the matter, this is, I suppose, understandable.The female companion's complacency in this matter, or her understanding, or her tolerance, is, one gathers, quite different from what would be expected in the case of, say, a Gorean free companion, who, commonly, would find these arrangements outrageous and insufferable. For example, she would not be likely, resignedly, without question, to pay a bill arriving at her domicile from a pleasure house, pertaining to a pleasant evening spent there by her companion. In the light of these considerations, to the extent they might apply, then, it should be clear why the "contract women" would not be likely to concern themselves overly much with collar-girls. First, they regard the collar-girls as far inferior to themselves, and thus scarcely in the category of rivals, and, secondly, they share the general view, as I understand it, of the women of the "strange men," namely that they have little or no hold over a male, and he may be expected to pick flowers, so to speak, where he pleases. If, however, a contract woman might find herself in love with a client, she, being quite human, and utterly helpless in her contractual status, might, understandably, resent his interest in, say, another contract woman, or, even, as absurd as it might seem, a collar-girl.
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 276-277
One of the long, curved swords, with the large hilt, was placed in the hands of Pertinax, at which he looked, apprehensively. A colored cord dangled from the hilt, which terminated in a tufted blue tassel. Tajima then backed away from him, and, smoothly, drew forth his own weapon, which
he gripped with two hands, and assumed what, for such a weapon, was apparently an on-guard position. The position seemed formal, and quite stylized, but there was no mistaking the readiness, or menace, of his attitude.
"You will fight," said Lord Nishida. "One of you is to die. Prepare to fight."
Pertinax cast me a look of bewilderment, and misery. But he did not turn about, and run. I was proud of him. Too, I did not think he would have
made it to the exit of the pavilion. Four fellows now stood there, two armed with glaives, two with swords. Tajima moved toward Pertinax, and, twice, feinted toward him. Pertinax lifted the blade, weakly, and then, putting down his head, in defeat, lowered it.
"You will now kill him," said Lord Nishida to Tajima.
I recalled Tajima was in training.
Tajima turned away from Pertinax, and faced Lord Nishida.
"Lord," said he, "set me rather the slaughter of a tethered verr."
Tajima had his back to Pertinax. But, from my training, I knew his every sense was alert, on a knife's edge of cold fire. I trusted that Pertinax would not act. Tajima seemed wholly at ease, even disgusted, certainly indolent. There was insult emblazoned in his very posture. I trusted that Pertinax would not act. In a moment it became clear to me that Pertinax would not seize his apparent opportunity. I smiled to myself, and, suddenly, almost inaudibly, I
moved my foot, quickly, in the dirt. Instantly Tajima had whirled about, his sword ready to fend a blow. His action was so quick that I, familiar with the reflexes of warriors, which often spell the difference between life and death, must admire it, and Pertinax, startled, gasped, his blade still haplessly lowered.
"He may be permitted to live," said Lord Nishida, "for the time."
One of the guards relieved Pertinax of the weapon.
"Well done!" I said to Pertinax.
"I did nothing," he said.
"That is why you are still alive," I said.
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 280-281
She uttered a tiny noise of fear, and her legs gave out beneath her, but she was steadied by the two guards who held her in place, by the upper arms, beneath the sheet. Her fear, understandably enough, was a reaction to the sight of the two larls, one on each side of the platform. She had perhaps never seen a larl before, and even if she were familiar with these large carnivores, finding oneself in their vicinity, without viewing them through thick bars or ascertaining that they were, say, tethered on stout chains, would be enough to unnerve a heart more experienced and stouter than hers. In any event, I had certainly shared a similar apprehension upon my entrance into the pavilion. The fact that the beasts seemed somnolent and that they seemed to provoke little concern amongst the others in the pavilion had, of course, considerably, if not entirely, assuaged my apprehensions. The larl, of course, is never fully tamed. Like the tarn, it has a wild blood. Too, if one makes a sudden movement in its vicinity, for example, a paw may, as by a reflex, lash out and a hand may be half torn from a wrist, or an arm may be shredded.
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 287
She now understood the two larls to be harmless. She was mistaken in this conjecture, but it was a rational conjecture considering that the two beasts were quiet, crouched in place, and that their presence seemed to be accepted without question by the others present. She might have been less confident had she known more about larls. Pretty obviously the two beasts were domestic larls, probably raised from cubhood, and trained to respond to certain commands. On the other hand, as noted earlier, no larl is ever fully tamed. A thousand generations of stalking and killing lay concealed, lay in wait, in every corpuscle of those pelted, passive giants.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 288
The saru is found variously on Gor, but usually in tropical areas. For example, it is common in the jungles of the Ua. Also, I had learned from Tajima, it is found, here and there, in the home, so to speak, of the "strange men." The saru is a small, usually arboreal animal. It is usually regarded with amusement, or contempt. It figures in children's stories as a cute, curious, mischievous little beast, but also one that is stupid, vain, and ignorant. Although the saru, as far as I can tell, is not a monkey zoologically, it surely occupies a similar ecological niche, and resembles the monkey in its diet, habits, groupings, and such. It is tailless. I think it would not be amiss to think of the saru as a Gorean monkey. In any event Tajima, when he put the slave before him on her knees, in the stable, to be named, told her, in English, that there be no mistaking the matter, and she clearly understand what was being done to her, what 'Saru' meant, its connotations, and such. She was, in effect, he told her, going to be named "Monkey." "Yes Master," she whispered. The slave, of course, is named by masters. She has nothing to say as to what she will be named, no more than a sleen or kaiila. Names may be changed, from time to time. Some names, like 'Saru', are belittling names, or contempt names. Other names may be fit for low slaves, others for prized slaves, and so on. Names may be used to punish or commend, to humiliate or delight, and so on. Earth-girl names, which may be put on any slave, regardless of her world of origin, are commonly used for low slaves. 'Cecily', the name of my slave, had once been one of her free-woman names. Now, of course, it was not the same name, for I had given it to her as a slave name. The slave understands, of course, that she has no name, not in a legal sense, and that the name she is given is a name bestowed on her by a master, and removable by a master. Even the name which appears on formal slave papers is a slave name.
Swordsmen of Gor 324
"'I am the property of Nishida of Nara'," she said.
This was doubtless Lord Nishida.
"What is Nara?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said.
On the common Gorean collar it might be a city, a district, even a cylinder. On her collar, for all I knew, it might be a place, a port, a caste, a family, a clan, or something else. I did not know what. I would later learn it was a citadel, a lofty fortress castle.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 330
About the edges of this area, which was better than a hundred yards in width, there were several structures. Most of these were rudely timbered, and most were windowless. Some, on the other hand, had an open wall, facing the area. Two seemed to be shops, with an open wall, one for metal
workers, the other for leather workers. Some of these structures, it seemed, served as storehouses, for supplies and tack, such as saddles and harnessing, and others as shelters, for trainers and craftsmen, and doubtless, too, for those whom one might think of, in a way, as recruits. There was a
larger building, too, which had a plank floor and an open wall. This, I would learn, was a dojo, or training hall. To one side there was a tank for water and there were several racks from which hung meat, probably tabuk, forest tarsk, and forest bosk. The greater forest tarsk, unlike the common tarsk, can be quite large. When I first came to Gor I saw a tapestry depicting the tarn hunting of such beasts, and, from the sizes involved, I had thought the tapestry to be based on some fantasy or myth. Only later did I discover that there were beasts of such a size. The common tarsk, on the other hand,
is much smaller. When a slave, or even a free woman, is disparaged as a "she-tarsk," the smaller animal, the common tarsk, is invariably in mind. Otherwise the metaphor would be unintelligible. Indeed, many Goreans have never seen the forest tarsk, and many do not know of its existence. The
forest bosk tends to be territorial, and, as I have already suggested, it can be quite dangerous. Most interestingly to me were the cots in the area, of which there were several. These cots were mostly improvised, walled with rope nets strung between trees, and, too, large, heavy poles, doubtless
from local trees, trimmed of bark and branches. Rope netting is used rather than wire to protect the birds. Tarn wire, for example, sometimes used to "roof a city," to defend it from tarn attack, is almost invisible, and can easily cut the wing from a descending bird. A lighter form of wire is called "slave
wire," and it, too, is dangerous. A slave attempting to escape through such wire is likely to be found suspended within it, piteously begging for help, half cut to pieces. Two of the cots were large and conical. Their framing, formed of light metal tubing, fitted together, was not untypical of a form of cot found in open camps. I supposed it derived from Thentis, and might have been brought to the coast by wagon, and then north by ship, as doubtless was the case with many forms of supplies.
Swordsmen of Gor 353
I was then prepared to leave the plaza, but, in turningabout, I saw a sight which, to me, if not to Tajima, and his people, seemed exceedingly odd.
"What is going on there?" I asked.
"One is preparing to recover his honor," said Tajima.
On a small platform, in a white kimono, one of Tajima's people, which I will now refer to as the Pani, as that is their word for themselves, knelt. His head was bowed, and before him, on the platform, was a curved wooden sheath, which contained, doubtless, a knife. Near the fellow, also clad in a
rather formal kimono, white, stood a fellow with an unsheathed sword, of the longer sort.
"Do not intrude," said Tajima.
"What is the fellow with the sword doing?" I asked.
"It is sometimes difficult to perform the act," said Tajima.
"If it cannot be well completed the swordsman will assist. There is no loss of honor in that."
"Stop!" I called.
"Do not interfere!" cried Tajima, whose suave placidity was for once not at his disposal.
I thrust Tajima back and strode to the figure on the platform, who had now loosened his robe and drawn forth a small dagger from the sheath.
The man with the sword stood to one side, two hands on the hilt of the weapon. He regarded me. He did not seem resentful, outraged, or such. Rather, he seemed puzzled. He had not expected this intrusion, nor had the fellow on the platform. The fellow on the platform gripped the knife. I thought blood had drained from his hand. He looked up, not fully comprehending this disruption. He had already, I understood, given himself to the knife, and all that remained now was to finish the deed.
"Allow him dignity!" begged Tajima.
"I will not allow this," I said.
"Who are you to stop it?" asked Tajima
Once again in command of his emotions. The Pani are an extremely emotional, passionate race, as I would learn, and the calmness of their exterior demeanor, their frequently seeming impassibility, even seeming apathy, was less of a disposition than an achievement. Civility is not an adornment, but a necessity. Is the beast not always at one's elbow? Behind the facade of a painted screen a larl may lurk. Every chain can snap, every rope break. Savagery lies close to the precincts of civilization. The borderland between them is narrow and easily traversed. Courtesy, or politeness, you see, must not always be understood as a lack, a debility, or insufficiency. One must not recklessly part curtains. Behind them might be found things you would just as soon not see. He who writes poetry and sips tea, and waits expectantly for a flower to blossom, may, in a frenzy, on the field of battle, take head after head. In any event, it is unwise to take mountains for granted. They may conceal volcanoes.
"I am commander, I am captain," I told Tajima.
"This man is a coward," said Tajima.
"No," I said, "he is not."
It seemed to me that the act he contemplated was
sufficient evidence of that.
"He fled from a tarn," said Tajima.
"He will not do so again," I said.
"Do not interfere," said Tajima. "You can make no
difference. He will simply complete the act later, when you
are not present."
"No, he will not," I said.
"Why not?" asked Tajima, genuinely interested.
"Because I forbid it," I said. "I will have no more of this
amongst men who will dare the tarn."
"It is our way," said Tajima.
"Who is captain?" I asked.
"You, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman," said Tajima.
"It is not my way," I said.
"You are captain," said Tajima, quietly.
"I will not lose men in this fashion," I said.
"It is better to lose such men," said Tajima.
"If you want to die," I said to the kneeling figure on the
platform, "do so under the talons of the tarn."
"It is wrong for you to interfere in this, Tarl Cabot,
tarnsman," said Tajima. "One must recover honor."
"One recovers honor in life," I said, "not in death. If he
lives, he may begin again, and gain honor."
"That is not our way," said Tajima.
"But it is a way," I said.
"Doubtless," said Tajima.
"And it is my way," I said.
"Yes," said Tajima. "It is your way."
"And I am captain," I said.
"Yes," said Tajima. "You are captain."
"Return to your training," I told the fellow kneeling on the
platform. "You are late."
Swordsmen of Gor pg 362-364
Eight of the Pani then rose from their places and four of them, unarmed, faced the other four, similarly unarmed. They then bowed to one another, warily squared off and, shortly, engaged. Another of the Pani, an umpire or referee, or, better, I suppose, an adjudicator, began to observe and
supervise the practice. He occasionally commented, even scolded. In this engagement no mortal blows were to be dealt, of course, and when a stroke which would have spelled death or disablement was held up short, the adjudicator pronounced his verdict, and one of the fellows would politely
withdraw from the contest, in effect having been ruled dead or, one supposes, disabled. One-on-one combat can be stylized amongst the Pani, and may proceed rather formally, for all its sudden swiftness and violence, alternating with an almost unnatural stillness, reminiscent of a larl or panther,
intent, immobile, subtly quivering, before its attack.
Interestingly, although four were engaged on a side, when one was removed from the contest, his opponent did not then join with his fellows to overwhelm the survivors, but stood back. In effect, then, one had what seemed to amount to four one-on-one contests. In actual warfare, I trusted this civility would not be respected. Courtesy is one thing, but courtesy at the expense of victory seemed to me a dubious tactical election. Finally one fellow held the floor from one team, so to speak, and he was faced by three of the other group. He defeated two and was defeated by the third. The eight fellows
then stood, exchanged bows, and resumed their places.
"May we speak?" I asked Tajima.
"Not now," said Tajima, softly.
A large number of contests, of various sorts, took place in the dojo, most with weapons of wood. These were surrogates for several weapons, in particular the short sword, or companion sword, and the long sword. Some glaives without blades were used. An interesting variation on these surrogate weapons was supple poles, long, light, peeled, whiplike branches which might flash about, scarcely visible. These, I gathered, were less surrogate weapons than training devices, to quicken reflexes, and enhance skills. Occasionally steel was used, but, again, of course, the strokes were held up short. Sometimes one surrogate weapon was put against a different surrogate weapon. Sometimes an unarmed individual was to engage an individual armed, say, with a sheathed dagger. Understandably, a reasonable amount of care was taken in the dojo to reduce injury and, certainly, to prevent death, the holding of strokes, and such, but, nonetheless, bloodshed was not infrequent, and broken limbs, wrists, and arms, were not
unknown. These injuries seemed to be accepted with equanimity, save where it was suspected that intent was involved. The Pani seemed to feel in such a case that something was out of balance, however slightly, and an adjustment was in order. A disharmony was in need of correction. In such case one slash reddening a wooden blade might be used to pay for another.
"Now?" I asked Tajima.
"No," said Tajima.
The exercises and contests within the dojo were obviously intended to provide serious and detailed martial training, and I am sure they had great value in this regard. Why should they not? Indeed, had I not, long ago, in Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning, engaged in similar exercises, though commonly with actual weapons? But one can do only so much in such training, of course, whether with wood or steel. It is one thing to face a fellow with a wooden sword, say, who will hold his stroke, or try to do so, and quite another to face a fellow armed with finely edged steel who has every intention
of killing you. In the latter case every corpuscle comes alive, and the whole business is commonly done within a flash or two of steel. There is no training, as it is said, which can compare with the dojo of blood.
Two days ago I had spoken to Lord Nishida, again in his pavilion, and he had been receptive to my recommendations, and I had, accordingly, sought out certain craftsmen in the camp, leather workers and metal workers, and certain suppliers, who might, over the next months, secure certain
goods, formed to my specifications.
With respect to weaponry the Gorean warrior is commonly trained in the blade, shield, and spear. The blade is commonly the gladius, which is quick, light, and double-edged, suitable for both the thrust and the slash. It is an excellent infantry weapon. On tarnback, naturally, there is little call for it.
Similarly, the saber, which might be used with some efficacy from, say, horseback is of little use from either kaiilaback or tarnback. The kaiila, a lofty, silken beast, stands too high at the shoulder to warrant a saber. The Tuchuks, for example, use the temwood lance, which is long, light, tough, and
supple. It has no difficulty in engaging an opponent on foot. The Tuchuks also use the quiva, or saddle knife, which is balanced for throwing. I thought we might substitute for the quiva the Anangan dart, a weighted, metal dart, some eighteen inches in length, which is flung overhand and, because of its fins, requires less skill than the quiva. It would be, I supposed, primarily an auxiliary weapon, to which recourse might be had in special circumstances, those, for example, in which, on the ground, one might employ the quiva. Such circumstances, those in which the quiva might be
used, would commonly be in the swirl of close combat, where even the bow might be impractical. The typical Gorean shield is heavy, large and round, of layered leather bound with metal stripping. It may shield a soldier but it cannot, even given its size, protect a tarn. More practical on the whole, I
thought, everything considered, would be the metal buckler, smaller and easily managed, with one hand, rather than an entire arm. It could turn a spear thrust, whereas a thrust or thrown spear would be likely to anchor itself in the common shield. Indeed, a common infantry tactic is to disable the
opponent's shield by penetrating it with one's spear. This, in effect, renders the shield not only ineffective but a liability, as the attack then proceeds with the gladius. The buckler I had in mind was not only easily manageable but would have two additional features of interest. First, it might be easily slung at the saddle, freeing the tarnsman's hands, for a purpose which will soon be obvious, the use of the bow, and, second, as in some arena bucklers, it would have a bladelike edge, thus allowing it to be used to cut at an opponent's body, ideally the throat. I did not expect there would be much call for this latter feature unless the tarnsman was on foot, but sometimes tarnsmen do lock in combat, even on tarnback, as the birds, spinning about, buffeting one another, screaming and twisting about, do grapple in the sky. The buckler, too, though with less efficacy than the larger shield, would provide some defense against flighted quarrels, at least for the most vulnerable areas of the body, those most frequently targeted. Lastly, its lightness, compared to the usual infantry shield, would to some extent, if only one rather negligible, increase the speed and maneuverability of the tarn. Given the size of the tarn, the beating of its
Swordsmen of Gor pg 393 - 397
"Perhaps she has a pretty body," I said, "which would look
well in a collar."
"She is a contract woman," said Tajima.
"Surely, wherever you come from, which I suspect is
faraway, you have collar-girls."
"Yes," he said.
"And I suppose they are not all light-skinned or darkskinned."
"No," said Tajima, "but they are not of the Pani."
"How is that?" I asked.
"Because as soon as they are collared, they are no longer
of the Pani, but only slave beasts."
"I see," I said.
"There are many such slave beasts," he said. "War is
frequent amongst the Pani."
Swordsmen of Gor pg 402
"With whom do you train in the forest?" I asked.
"Nodachi," he said.
"He is not a two-name person?" I asked.
"That is not his name," said Tajima. "His name is secret. He conceals it. He is called 'Nodachi'. That is merely a name for a battle sword, one to be used in the field."
"I understand little of this," I said.
"He is ronen," said Tajima. "A fellow of the waves, as it is
said, one with no home, one carried by the current, one with
no master, no captain. There are many such."
Swordsmen of Gor pg 403
An attack of this sort might be prolonged indefinitely, but I had ordered only three sweeps. I thought this would be adequate for the archers to accustom themselves to the attack, its speed and slope, and make any adjustments Swordsmen of Gor necessary. I would expect the third sweep of each rank to be more successful than the first or second, certainly more so than the first. This was the first time I had had the cavalry strike publicly, while under official observation, at ground targets in formation. Each rider, as indicated, had two broad quivers at his disposal, in each of which was a hundred
arrows. The common quiver of the great bow, familiar to the peasants, would contain between twenty and thirty arrows. A crossbowman would commonly carry even fewer bolts or quarrels. Let us suppose that a crossbowman on tarnback had twenty bolts, and, drawing and cocking the cable, and extracting the bolt, and placing it in the guide, and aiming, could fire one every twenty Ihn. He could thus fire twenty bolts in 400 Ihn, or ten Ehn. On the other hand, with the short bow one could fire an arrow every five Ihn. Thus, in 400 Ihn, or ten Ehn, he could fire 80 arrows. Thus, the fellow with
the short bow could fire four times as many arrows in a given period of time as the crossbowman. Further, given the quantity of arrows housed in the two broad quivers, whereas the ammunition of the crossbowman would be exhausted in ten Ehn, the ammunition of the other fellow, he with the short
bow, even at the increased rate of fire, would last twenty-five Ehn. Thus the bowman could fire four times to the crossbowman's once, and continue to fire for two and a half times as long. These figures are approximations, assuming averages, and typical marksmen. On the other hand, the differentials in fire power, with respect to rate of fire, and duration of fire, clearly and considerably favor the fellow with the short bow, at least until an enemy would adopt similar measures. In calculating these ratios I have supposed the crossbowman to be equipped with the stirrup bow, which may
be reloaded and fired much more rapidly than the crank-andratchet bow. The range and striking power of the stirrup bow somewhat exceeds that of the short bow, and the range of the crank-and-ratchet variety exceeds that of the stirrup bow. On the other hand, given the usual proximity to targets in
both cases, the rate and duration of fire of the short bow supplies it, in this sort of warfare, as it would in Tuchuk warfare, with a clear advantage. This is not to disparage certain advantages of the crossbow. For example, as with a rifle, it requires less skill to use it effectively than does the long, or short, bow. This is important if one is working with large groups of recruits from various backgrounds who may have been lured into service with inducement fees, or, not that infrequently, impressed into service. Similarly, the crossbow can remain ready to fire, for Ahn at a time. It is thus useful in door-to-door fighting, in stalking, in ambush, and so on. It is the weapon par excellence of the caste of Assassins.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 438-440
"Bucklers and blades," I said to the mercenaries.
I secured my own buckler from the saddle.
"You, too, buckler and blade," I said to Tajima and
Pertinax. It is true the blade may be used for both offense
and defense, but I would not trust it against a flighted
quarrel.
"Nodachi," said Tajima, "could deflect a quarrel with the
blade of even a companion sword."
"And do you possess his skills?" I asked.
"No," said Tajima.
"Fetch your buckler," I said to him.
"Yes, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman," he said.
The edged buckler, of course, as in the arena, is an
offensive weapon, as well as a defensive one.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 462
I saw some Pani about. Some had heads fastened at their belt. I saw no prisoners.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 264
These heads were clearly trophies of a sort. For example, a warrior might win favor from his daimyo or shogun by garnering heads, this understood as a proof of prowess in war. In such a way one might earn promotion, land, gifts, preferments, and such. I would also later learn that these heads, particularly if one of a celebrated foe, might be treasured, and kept indefinitely, the hair being carefully combed and dressed, the head being perfumed, the teeth painted black, and so on. The blackness of teeth was apparently regarded as cosmetically appealing. Indeed, certain beauties of the Pani, I would learn, blackened their teeth to enhance their charms. To be sure, neither of the contract women of Lord Nishida, one of whom was Sumomo,
who was apparently of interest to Tajima, and the other of whom was Hana, as I later discovered, I was pleased to note, had adopted this practice.
He in the helmet mask turned toward me, and I saw that the mask, in design and color, was garish. Too, it was horned. The entire effect was that of a hideous face, as of some frightful creature, or monster of sorts, surely not even a human face.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 469-470
In the midst of the Pani before the hut was a figure who wore a large, masklike helmet, whose features could not be discerned. Most of the Pani helmets, on the other hand, were open, though winged, that is, were rimmed to the sides and back, with something like a descending metal brim. They, like Gorean warriors, wore no visible body armor, as this defensive device was contrary to the rulings of Priest-Kings.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 466
"Let Lord Nishida be notified," I urged, "that he may
intervene."
"That is Lord Nishida," said Tajima, indicating the figure in
the fearsome mask with the bloodied sword.
"It cannot be," I said.
"It is," said Tajima.
"But his sword is bloodied," I protested.
"Lord Nishida is a great warrior," said Tajima.
"He fights, he, sword to sword?" I asked.
"Certainly," said Tajima. "It is our way. Who would follow
another?"
"Take prisoners!" I said.
"We do not require prisoners," said Tajima.
In common Gorean warfare it is not unknown for prisoners to be taken. They may be interrogated, worked, sold, and such. Too, occasionally, if important, and of station, they may be ransomed. The Pani, it seemed, might take prisoners but seldom did so. Sometimes prisoners were tortured, and
crucified, presumably primarily as examples to terrify enemies, reduce the temptation to sedition, and such. A common form of Gorean execution is impalement. The Pani regarded this as barbarous, but looked lightly on crucifixion. Such things apparently vary culturally. Perhaps one reason
the Pani are not prone to making prisoners is that it is thought that the prisoner might be expected, if honorable, to end his own life, to erase his shame at having fallen into the hands of the enemy, and thus, if this is so, he might as well be spared this indignity by being granted an earlier surcease.
Also, if heads are prized, and important with respect to advancement, and such, this militates against taking prisoners. An interesting exception to this sort of thing is that a prisoner, or one on the verge of capture, may be accorded the right to accept a new daimyo or shogun. Once he does
this he is then honor bound to serve the new leader, as he did the old, and, it seems, he may be depended on to do so. He is not a mercenary, but he is a loyal follower, whomsoever he follows. The prime reason for not taking prisoners, or not making it that much of a common practice, if this should be
truly so, is probably that the male prisoner is dangerous. He is feared, and perhaps wisely. Thus it seems supposed that he might be well done away with. Similarly, as in several periods in the Middle Ages on Earth, prisoners were done away with, there being no satisfactory provisions for their incarceration, particularly in the field, no prisoner cages, or such. Screams emanated from the burning hut.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 479-480
had not seen before. Had a larl by some incantation taken the form of a man, I thought it might be such a man. He was not large, but I felt a largeness somehow within him. Although of the Pani his visage was bearded, thinly, roughly, uncut, save perhaps by the sword, and his hair was long, and unkempt. His clothing was soiled, and uncared for. He was barefoot. In his belt, blades uppermost, were the two swords, the
companion sword and the longer blade. There was blood on his loose, short-armed robe. Some of it was spattered, and, in other places, he had apparently drawn his blades against the cloth, to clean the blade. I was startled to look upon him, for he seemed so different from the other Pani. He might, I supposed, be a hermit, or a recluse, one who lived by himself, with his thoughts. Perhaps he was a madman. That seemed to me possible, but then it seemed to me, rather, that there was a solidity about him, and a finely tempered, perhaps dangerous, rationality about him. I thought surely he was an unusual man, and one of perhaps a ferocious singleness of interest and purpose. I would learn later, however, that he carved wood, and composed small poems on bark. I had the sense he was without companion or slave, and by choice. Perhaps such might have distracted him from some more remote purpose, or goal, or ideal. He seemed to me a man driven, like a thing of nature, but from what or to what I did not know.
Swordsmen of Gor page 494
I sat near Lord Nishida, and he had offered me a sip of a different fermented beverage, one I had once tasted on Earth, though not of so fine a quality. It was warm, in its small bowl. "It is sake," I was informed. I nodded. There are rice fields on Gor, in the vicinity of Bazi, famed for its teas, but rice is not as familiar on Gor as the grain, sa-tarna. And Pani, as far as I knew, were not found in Bazi, or its environs. To be sure I supposed the rice might be Bazi rice, but I was not sure of that, not at all sure of it.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 569
I recalled that those of the dark caste, the caste of Assassins, were often sober fellows, often denying themselves much of what most prized as giving meaning to life. Theirs was a narrow, dark life. Few held slaves. Some, before the hunt, would use a woman, briefly, ruthlessly, unfeelingly,
leaving her shuddering, crumpled, and broken, sobbing, at their feet, before honing the selected blade, one of six, before painting the dagger on their forehead, that crowds might part uneasily before them, that taverns might fall silent, that children might flee, that men might bolt their doors. For
whom is the dagger painted? Seldom did those of the dark caste drink ka-la-na or paga. The eye must be sharp, the senses acute, the hand steady. The hunt must be cold, passionless, rational, deliberate, relentless. Seldom did they recreate themselves with the bodies of slaves. Muchly they stayed to themselves. Each seemed to dwell in the cave of his own intent, as though in a cell, a cell in a large, dark, walled household, from whose gates he might emerge, a grayness at dawn, an enigma at noon, a darkness in the darkness of the night. I thought them less than human, more than human, perhaps, best, other than human. I wondered if they had feelings. Even the venomous ost had feelings. Were they beasts? But beasts had feelings. It was said they were immune, like knives, to compassion. Surely there was no place for such things in the gloom and solemnity of their pursuits. Might one not more profitably implore a stone for mercy? In their dark, narrow world what light was there? Did they live with hate, or even without hate, as in a winter
without even cold? Did they know pleasure? I did not know. They lived for the kill. Perhaps they took pleasure in that. I did not know. They were of the dark caste, of the Assassins. I recalled one I had met, long ago, on the height of the Central Cylinder in Ar, Pa-Kur, master of the Assassins. He had leapt
from the height of the Cylinder and the body, it seemed, had been lost amongst the crowds below. It had, in any event, never been recovered. Doubtless it had been torn to pieces by the crowd. He was gone. Gor was safer without him. Men had feared even his shadow. A second one of the fellows had now stood up. They did not wear the Assassin's black. I did not think the dagger was borne on their foreheads. They were unhelmeted. Had the dagger been in evidence men, even drunk, would have drawn away from them, regarded them, clutched at their weapons, however clumsily.
Swordsmen of Gor page 577-578
I thought of the assassins of the medieval Middle East. The caste of assassins was quite different. They were not dupes, fools, madmen, too stupid to understand how they had been manipulated by others, young men drunk with the wine of death, who think they will somehow thrive in the cities of
dust. Against such mindless puppets, such naive fools, such lunatics, manipulated by those who send them forth, sitting safe in their mountain fastness, safe in their lair of prevarication and deceit, it is difficult to defend oneself. But the Gorean Assassin, he of the Black Caste, is not a naive,
twisted, deluded, managed beast serving the purposes of others, but a professional killer. He wishes to kill and vanish, to live, to kill again. Otherwise he is no more than a clumsy oaf, a failure, having accomplished no more than might have a desperate, simple, misguided fool. If he himself dies, he has
botched his work, he has failed, he has shamed his caste.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 600
A cage wagon rolled past, in which, turning and twisting about one another, agitated, were several larls. These were the beasts, primarily, who had patrolled outside the wands. They were trained from cubhood, to respond to secret commands. Accordingly, one who knew these commands might command them, venture beyond the wands, and so on. Ashigaru prowled the edges of the road, lest any of Lord Nishida's minions, primarily mercenaries, be tempted to avail themselves of an unobstructed highway to another prince, one with perhaps a deeper purse.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 635
Hundreds of Pani stirred, looked to the platform, uneasy. Glaives, the long-shafted, curved-bladed naginata, were grasped. From behind the platform, Pani archers rushed forth, standing between the platform and the mercenaries. Arrows were set to the strings of the Pani longbow, arrows which are
released at the bow's lower third, muchly different from the release point of either the peasant or saddle bow.
swordsmen of gor pg 701
Those brought to Tarncamp were, I had gathered from Pertinax, mercenaries, bandits, brigands, thieves, murderers, wanderers, low men, cast-off men, men lost from Home Stones, and such. Many, I understood, had come from the occupational forces now expelled from Ar. The word of such men might be as the rustle of the wind amidst leech plants. Their loyalties would on the whole be to their own hides and purses. They would on the whole be as much for hire as the Assassins, save that the Assassin, once the dagger has been painted on his forehead, signaling he is hunting, is loyal to a fee.
Swordsmen of Gor - page 343
“He is Ronen,” said Tajima. “A fellow of the waves, as it is said; one with no home, one carried by the current, one with no master, no captain. There are many such.”
“A mercenary?” I suggested.
“Ah, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman,” said Tajima, “how little you know of these things.”
“Doubtless.” I said.
“Loyalty,” said Tajima, “is required of the warrior. His lord must be dead, or imprisoned. Or it may be he was betrayed by his lord, or that his lord proved unworthy of his devotion. It is lonely for the Ronen. One remembers. One does not forget. Over the ice a cloud drifts. The bird clings to the cold branch. It cries its pain in the night.”
Swordsmen of Gor - page 288 & 289
"You brought a dangerous animal on board," he said.
"No more dangerous, surely," I said, "than ten larls."
"They are caged," he said.
"Not at Tarncamp," I said.
"The larl is large and noble," said Lord Nishida. "The sleen is sly and treacherous."
"It may one day save your life," I said.
"How is that?" he said.
"It is alert to menance, to deceit," I said.
"It is a beast," he said.
"An unusual beast," I said.
"It is a mystical thing," he smiled, "something magical, possessing a gift of divination?"
"Not at all," I said. "I think it has to do with scent, and with changes in a body, reticences, tensings, an incipient readiness to spring, restrained, such things."
Swordsmen of Gor - page 582
We were some twenty yards from the fellow, who was engaged, I supposed, in certain martial exercises, certainly of a rather stylized, formal nature. I had never seen anything exactly like this before. He was standing, and sometimes wheeled about, gracefully. He had two hands on an unusual
sword, with which he described certain evolutions, thrusts, strokes, a return to guard, and so on. It seemed ritualistic, but he was certainly intent on what he was doing. I had the sense of a severe concentration.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 224
I had, in wandering about, intended, for my interest, to cross the border of the wands, to scout the area, but I had been warned back by a prowling larl, which was, as nearly as I could determine, although it was not collared, a guard beast. I understood then why the camp, despite the richness of timber about, was not palisaded, at least not in the sense of being encircled by a close-set wall of sharpened palings. It did, of course, in a sense, have its palisade. Such beasts were its palisade.
Swordsmen of Gor page 255
At that moment I heard the roar of a larl.
"Do not be dismayed," said Tajima, "it is from the pavilion
of Lord Nishida."
"It sounds close," I said.
"It is," said Tajima. "There is the pavilion."
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 270
Lord Nishida was garbed in white robes. He sat crosslegged, within his pavilion, on a low, flat platform of lacquered wood, some twelve feet square. Beside him, one on each side, lay two swords, one short, one long, each with a large, slightly curved hilt, wrapped in silk, and a curved blade. The longer of the two swords was not unlike that carried by Tajima, thrust in his belt, edge uppermost. Lord Nishida's countenance was refined, even delicate, but refined and delicate in the way a light, carefully edged weapon is refined and delicate, as, for example, the shorter of the two blades beside him.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 271
At the edges of the lacquered platform, one on each side, crouched two larls. Behind Lord Nishida, at the back of the platform, stood six of the "strange men," each armed with a glaive, the blade of which, socketed in its stout pole, was some two-and-a-half feet in length, and curved. It was presumably an infantry weapon. It could be used for either thrusting or slashing. It would not be thrown. Whereas I would not have anticipated difficulty in getting behind one such weapon, it would be exceedingly dangerous if there were two such weapons, as an aggressor would be likely to be vulnerable to the blow of the second weapon. As the glaive is used most effectively forward or to the soldier's left, if the wielder is right-handed, one would try to keep to the wielder's right.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 273
I glanced to the two women of the "strange men" on the lacquered platform. They were looking upon Cecily, but I saw no sign of envy, hostility, or jealously. This was quite different from the way in which a Gorean free woman would look upon a slave girl. They see the slave girl as a vulnerable, but hated rival, with whom, for the interest of men, they could not begin to compete. These women, however, seemed to view Cecily more as one might have a lovely pet, doubtless of great interest to men but not really constituting a threat to themselves, and their position. I would later learn that these
were, indeed, "contract women," who, as girls, were often sold to pleasure houses, most often by their parents. Sometimes, too, they would sell themselves to such a house, to be trained in arts of pleasure, for example, music, dancing, singing, conversation, and such. As their contracts could be
bought and sold they were, in effect, slaves, but they were not thought of as such. For example, they occupied an understood, accepted, and generally respected niche in their society. They were not tunicked, not branded, not collared, and so on. They were not "collar-girls." Indeed, they regarded
themselves, without arrogance, and with much justification, as far superior to collar-girls. They were, in their view, in a different category altogether. The collar-girl was an animal who might be put to the straw in a stable, and would not even be permitted within the refined precincts of the pleasure
house. The collar-girl was ignorant of the simplest things, even the proper serving of tea, the careful, delicate, symbolic arrangements of flowers, and such. She would be of little interest to a gentleman, save for her performance of lengthy, servile labors, and her squirmings, gaspings, moanings,
thrashings, and beggings, perhaps back-braceleted, in his arms. Certainly the contract women knew the attractions of simple collar-girls for males, but they did not regard them as rivals. When, wearied of a world's concerns, he wished to spend a leisurely, elegant evening, gratifying his various cultivated senses, physical, intellectual, and aesthetic, his choice would not be the collar-girl, but the women trained to comfort and delight him in traditional and cultural manners. Interestingly, though I suppose there must be exceptions to this generalization, the women of the "strange men" seem
generally reconciled to the fact, and will even expect, that their males will seek gratifications beyond the walls of their own domiciles. Nothing culturally heinous seems to be associated with this matter. As many companionships are arranged between families, with considerations not of love, or even of attraction, paramount, but of wealth, prestige, status, and such, and the young people often being scarcely considered in the matter, this is, I suppose, understandable.The female companion's complacency in this matter, or her understanding, or her tolerance, is, one gathers, quite different from what would be expected in the case of, say, a Gorean free companion, who, commonly, would find these arrangements outrageous and insufferable. For example, she would not be likely, resignedly, without question, to pay a bill arriving at her domicile from a pleasure house, pertaining to a pleasant evening spent there by her companion. In the light of these considerations, to the extent they might apply, then, it should be clear why the "contract women" would not be likely to concern themselves overly much with collar-girls. First, they regard the collar-girls as far inferior to themselves, and thus scarcely in the category of rivals, and, secondly, they share the general view, as I understand it, of the women of the "strange men," namely that they have little or no hold over a male, and he may be expected to pick flowers, so to speak, where he pleases. If, however, a contract woman might find herself in love with a client, she, being quite human, and utterly helpless in her contractual status, might, understandably, resent his interest in, say, another contract woman, or, even, as absurd as it might seem, a collar-girl.
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 276-277
One of the long, curved swords, with the large hilt, was placed in the hands of Pertinax, at which he looked, apprehensively. A colored cord dangled from the hilt, which terminated in a tufted blue tassel. Tajima then backed away from him, and, smoothly, drew forth his own weapon, which
he gripped with two hands, and assumed what, for such a weapon, was apparently an on-guard position. The position seemed formal, and quite stylized, but there was no mistaking the readiness, or menace, of his attitude.
"You will fight," said Lord Nishida. "One of you is to die. Prepare to fight."
Pertinax cast me a look of bewilderment, and misery. But he did not turn about, and run. I was proud of him. Too, I did not think he would have
made it to the exit of the pavilion. Four fellows now stood there, two armed with glaives, two with swords. Tajima moved toward Pertinax, and, twice, feinted toward him. Pertinax lifted the blade, weakly, and then, putting down his head, in defeat, lowered it.
"You will now kill him," said Lord Nishida to Tajima.
I recalled Tajima was in training.
Tajima turned away from Pertinax, and faced Lord Nishida.
"Lord," said he, "set me rather the slaughter of a tethered verr."
Tajima had his back to Pertinax. But, from my training, I knew his every sense was alert, on a knife's edge of cold fire. I trusted that Pertinax would not act. Tajima seemed wholly at ease, even disgusted, certainly indolent. There was insult emblazoned in his very posture. I trusted that Pertinax would not act. In a moment it became clear to me that Pertinax would not seize his apparent opportunity. I smiled to myself, and, suddenly, almost inaudibly, I
moved my foot, quickly, in the dirt. Instantly Tajima had whirled about, his sword ready to fend a blow. His action was so quick that I, familiar with the reflexes of warriors, which often spell the difference between life and death, must admire it, and Pertinax, startled, gasped, his blade still haplessly lowered.
"He may be permitted to live," said Lord Nishida, "for the time."
One of the guards relieved Pertinax of the weapon.
"Well done!" I said to Pertinax.
"I did nothing," he said.
"That is why you are still alive," I said.
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 280-281
She uttered a tiny noise of fear, and her legs gave out beneath her, but she was steadied by the two guards who held her in place, by the upper arms, beneath the sheet. Her fear, understandably enough, was a reaction to the sight of the two larls, one on each side of the platform. She had perhaps never seen a larl before, and even if she were familiar with these large carnivores, finding oneself in their vicinity, without viewing them through thick bars or ascertaining that they were, say, tethered on stout chains, would be enough to unnerve a heart more experienced and stouter than hers. In any event, I had certainly shared a similar apprehension upon my entrance into the pavilion. The fact that the beasts seemed somnolent and that they seemed to provoke little concern amongst the others in the pavilion had, of course, considerably, if not entirely, assuaged my apprehensions. The larl, of course, is never fully tamed. Like the tarn, it has a wild blood. Too, if one makes a sudden movement in its vicinity, for example, a paw may, as by a reflex, lash out and a hand may be half torn from a wrist, or an arm may be shredded.
Swordsmen of Gor Pg 287
She now understood the two larls to be harmless. She was mistaken in this conjecture, but it was a rational conjecture considering that the two beasts were quiet, crouched in place, and that their presence seemed to be accepted without question by the others present. She might have been less confident had she known more about larls. Pretty obviously the two beasts were domestic larls, probably raised from cubhood, and trained to respond to certain commands. On the other hand, as noted earlier, no larl is ever fully tamed. A thousand generations of stalking and killing lay concealed, lay in wait, in every corpuscle of those pelted, passive giants.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 288
The saru is found variously on Gor, but usually in tropical areas. For example, it is common in the jungles of the Ua. Also, I had learned from Tajima, it is found, here and there, in the home, so to speak, of the "strange men." The saru is a small, usually arboreal animal. It is usually regarded with amusement, or contempt. It figures in children's stories as a cute, curious, mischievous little beast, but also one that is stupid, vain, and ignorant. Although the saru, as far as I can tell, is not a monkey zoologically, it surely occupies a similar ecological niche, and resembles the monkey in its diet, habits, groupings, and such. It is tailless. I think it would not be amiss to think of the saru as a Gorean monkey. In any event Tajima, when he put the slave before him on her knees, in the stable, to be named, told her, in English, that there be no mistaking the matter, and she clearly understand what was being done to her, what 'Saru' meant, its connotations, and such. She was, in effect, he told her, going to be named "Monkey." "Yes Master," she whispered. The slave, of course, is named by masters. She has nothing to say as to what she will be named, no more than a sleen or kaiila. Names may be changed, from time to time. Some names, like 'Saru', are belittling names, or contempt names. Other names may be fit for low slaves, others for prized slaves, and so on. Names may be used to punish or commend, to humiliate or delight, and so on. Earth-girl names, which may be put on any slave, regardless of her world of origin, are commonly used for low slaves. 'Cecily', the name of my slave, had once been one of her free-woman names. Now, of course, it was not the same name, for I had given it to her as a slave name. The slave understands, of course, that she has no name, not in a legal sense, and that the name she is given is a name bestowed on her by a master, and removable by a master. Even the name which appears on formal slave papers is a slave name.
Swordsmen of Gor 324
"'I am the property of Nishida of Nara'," she said.
This was doubtless Lord Nishida.
"What is Nara?" I asked.
"I do not know," she said.
On the common Gorean collar it might be a city, a district, even a cylinder. On her collar, for all I knew, it might be a place, a port, a caste, a family, a clan, or something else. I did not know what. I would later learn it was a citadel, a lofty fortress castle.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 330
About the edges of this area, which was better than a hundred yards in width, there were several structures. Most of these were rudely timbered, and most were windowless. Some, on the other hand, had an open wall, facing the area. Two seemed to be shops, with an open wall, one for metal
workers, the other for leather workers. Some of these structures, it seemed, served as storehouses, for supplies and tack, such as saddles and harnessing, and others as shelters, for trainers and craftsmen, and doubtless, too, for those whom one might think of, in a way, as recruits. There was a
larger building, too, which had a plank floor and an open wall. This, I would learn, was a dojo, or training hall. To one side there was a tank for water and there were several racks from which hung meat, probably tabuk, forest tarsk, and forest bosk. The greater forest tarsk, unlike the common tarsk, can be quite large. When I first came to Gor I saw a tapestry depicting the tarn hunting of such beasts, and, from the sizes involved, I had thought the tapestry to be based on some fantasy or myth. Only later did I discover that there were beasts of such a size. The common tarsk, on the other hand,
is much smaller. When a slave, or even a free woman, is disparaged as a "she-tarsk," the smaller animal, the common tarsk, is invariably in mind. Otherwise the metaphor would be unintelligible. Indeed, many Goreans have never seen the forest tarsk, and many do not know of its existence. The
forest bosk tends to be territorial, and, as I have already suggested, it can be quite dangerous. Most interestingly to me were the cots in the area, of which there were several. These cots were mostly improvised, walled with rope nets strung between trees, and, too, large, heavy poles, doubtless
from local trees, trimmed of bark and branches. Rope netting is used rather than wire to protect the birds. Tarn wire, for example, sometimes used to "roof a city," to defend it from tarn attack, is almost invisible, and can easily cut the wing from a descending bird. A lighter form of wire is called "slave
wire," and it, too, is dangerous. A slave attempting to escape through such wire is likely to be found suspended within it, piteously begging for help, half cut to pieces. Two of the cots were large and conical. Their framing, formed of light metal tubing, fitted together, was not untypical of a form of cot found in open camps. I supposed it derived from Thentis, and might have been brought to the coast by wagon, and then north by ship, as doubtless was the case with many forms of supplies.
Swordsmen of Gor 353
I was then prepared to leave the plaza, but, in turningabout, I saw a sight which, to me, if not to Tajima, and his people, seemed exceedingly odd.
"What is going on there?" I asked.
"One is preparing to recover his honor," said Tajima.
On a small platform, in a white kimono, one of Tajima's people, which I will now refer to as the Pani, as that is their word for themselves, knelt. His head was bowed, and before him, on the platform, was a curved wooden sheath, which contained, doubtless, a knife. Near the fellow, also clad in a
rather formal kimono, white, stood a fellow with an unsheathed sword, of the longer sort.
"Do not intrude," said Tajima.
"What is the fellow with the sword doing?" I asked.
"It is sometimes difficult to perform the act," said Tajima.
"If it cannot be well completed the swordsman will assist. There is no loss of honor in that."
"Stop!" I called.
"Do not interfere!" cried Tajima, whose suave placidity was for once not at his disposal.
I thrust Tajima back and strode to the figure on the platform, who had now loosened his robe and drawn forth a small dagger from the sheath.
The man with the sword stood to one side, two hands on the hilt of the weapon. He regarded me. He did not seem resentful, outraged, or such. Rather, he seemed puzzled. He had not expected this intrusion, nor had the fellow on the platform. The fellow on the platform gripped the knife. I thought blood had drained from his hand. He looked up, not fully comprehending this disruption. He had already, I understood, given himself to the knife, and all that remained now was to finish the deed.
"Allow him dignity!" begged Tajima.
"I will not allow this," I said.
"Who are you to stop it?" asked Tajima
Once again in command of his emotions. The Pani are an extremely emotional, passionate race, as I would learn, and the calmness of their exterior demeanor, their frequently seeming impassibility, even seeming apathy, was less of a disposition than an achievement. Civility is not an adornment, but a necessity. Is the beast not always at one's elbow? Behind the facade of a painted screen a larl may lurk. Every chain can snap, every rope break. Savagery lies close to the precincts of civilization. The borderland between them is narrow and easily traversed. Courtesy, or politeness, you see, must not always be understood as a lack, a debility, or insufficiency. One must not recklessly part curtains. Behind them might be found things you would just as soon not see. He who writes poetry and sips tea, and waits expectantly for a flower to blossom, may, in a frenzy, on the field of battle, take head after head. In any event, it is unwise to take mountains for granted. They may conceal volcanoes.
"I am commander, I am captain," I told Tajima.
"This man is a coward," said Tajima.
"No," I said, "he is not."
It seemed to me that the act he contemplated was
sufficient evidence of that.
"He fled from a tarn," said Tajima.
"He will not do so again," I said.
"Do not interfere," said Tajima. "You can make no
difference. He will simply complete the act later, when you
are not present."
"No, he will not," I said.
"Why not?" asked Tajima, genuinely interested.
"Because I forbid it," I said. "I will have no more of this
amongst men who will dare the tarn."
"It is our way," said Tajima.
"Who is captain?" I asked.
"You, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman," said Tajima.
"It is not my way," I said.
"You are captain," said Tajima, quietly.
"I will not lose men in this fashion," I said.
"It is better to lose such men," said Tajima.
"If you want to die," I said to the kneeling figure on the
platform, "do so under the talons of the tarn."
"It is wrong for you to interfere in this, Tarl Cabot,
tarnsman," said Tajima. "One must recover honor."
"One recovers honor in life," I said, "not in death. If he
lives, he may begin again, and gain honor."
"That is not our way," said Tajima.
"But it is a way," I said.
"Doubtless," said Tajima.
"And it is my way," I said.
"Yes," said Tajima. "It is your way."
"And I am captain," I said.
"Yes," said Tajima. "You are captain."
"Return to your training," I told the fellow kneeling on the
platform. "You are late."
Swordsmen of Gor pg 362-364
Eight of the Pani then rose from their places and four of them, unarmed, faced the other four, similarly unarmed. They then bowed to one another, warily squared off and, shortly, engaged. Another of the Pani, an umpire or referee, or, better, I suppose, an adjudicator, began to observe and
supervise the practice. He occasionally commented, even scolded. In this engagement no mortal blows were to be dealt, of course, and when a stroke which would have spelled death or disablement was held up short, the adjudicator pronounced his verdict, and one of the fellows would politely
withdraw from the contest, in effect having been ruled dead or, one supposes, disabled. One-on-one combat can be stylized amongst the Pani, and may proceed rather formally, for all its sudden swiftness and violence, alternating with an almost unnatural stillness, reminiscent of a larl or panther,
intent, immobile, subtly quivering, before its attack.
Interestingly, although four were engaged on a side, when one was removed from the contest, his opponent did not then join with his fellows to overwhelm the survivors, but stood back. In effect, then, one had what seemed to amount to four one-on-one contests. In actual warfare, I trusted this civility would not be respected. Courtesy is one thing, but courtesy at the expense of victory seemed to me a dubious tactical election. Finally one fellow held the floor from one team, so to speak, and he was faced by three of the other group. He defeated two and was defeated by the third. The eight fellows
then stood, exchanged bows, and resumed their places.
"May we speak?" I asked Tajima.
"Not now," said Tajima, softly.
A large number of contests, of various sorts, took place in the dojo, most with weapons of wood. These were surrogates for several weapons, in particular the short sword, or companion sword, and the long sword. Some glaives without blades were used. An interesting variation on these surrogate weapons was supple poles, long, light, peeled, whiplike branches which might flash about, scarcely visible. These, I gathered, were less surrogate weapons than training devices, to quicken reflexes, and enhance skills. Occasionally steel was used, but, again, of course, the strokes were held up short. Sometimes one surrogate weapon was put against a different surrogate weapon. Sometimes an unarmed individual was to engage an individual armed, say, with a sheathed dagger. Understandably, a reasonable amount of care was taken in the dojo to reduce injury and, certainly, to prevent death, the holding of strokes, and such, but, nonetheless, bloodshed was not infrequent, and broken limbs, wrists, and arms, were not
unknown. These injuries seemed to be accepted with equanimity, save where it was suspected that intent was involved. The Pani seemed to feel in such a case that something was out of balance, however slightly, and an adjustment was in order. A disharmony was in need of correction. In such case one slash reddening a wooden blade might be used to pay for another.
"Now?" I asked Tajima.
"No," said Tajima.
The exercises and contests within the dojo were obviously intended to provide serious and detailed martial training, and I am sure they had great value in this regard. Why should they not? Indeed, had I not, long ago, in Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning, engaged in similar exercises, though commonly with actual weapons? But one can do only so much in such training, of course, whether with wood or steel. It is one thing to face a fellow with a wooden sword, say, who will hold his stroke, or try to do so, and quite another to face a fellow armed with finely edged steel who has every intention
of killing you. In the latter case every corpuscle comes alive, and the whole business is commonly done within a flash or two of steel. There is no training, as it is said, which can compare with the dojo of blood.
Two days ago I had spoken to Lord Nishida, again in his pavilion, and he had been receptive to my recommendations, and I had, accordingly, sought out certain craftsmen in the camp, leather workers and metal workers, and certain suppliers, who might, over the next months, secure certain
goods, formed to my specifications.
With respect to weaponry the Gorean warrior is commonly trained in the blade, shield, and spear. The blade is commonly the gladius, which is quick, light, and double-edged, suitable for both the thrust and the slash. It is an excellent infantry weapon. On tarnback, naturally, there is little call for it.
Similarly, the saber, which might be used with some efficacy from, say, horseback is of little use from either kaiilaback or tarnback. The kaiila, a lofty, silken beast, stands too high at the shoulder to warrant a saber. The Tuchuks, for example, use the temwood lance, which is long, light, tough, and
supple. It has no difficulty in engaging an opponent on foot. The Tuchuks also use the quiva, or saddle knife, which is balanced for throwing. I thought we might substitute for the quiva the Anangan dart, a weighted, metal dart, some eighteen inches in length, which is flung overhand and, because of its fins, requires less skill than the quiva. It would be, I supposed, primarily an auxiliary weapon, to which recourse might be had in special circumstances, those, for example, in which, on the ground, one might employ the quiva. Such circumstances, those in which the quiva might be
used, would commonly be in the swirl of close combat, where even the bow might be impractical. The typical Gorean shield is heavy, large and round, of layered leather bound with metal stripping. It may shield a soldier but it cannot, even given its size, protect a tarn. More practical on the whole, I
thought, everything considered, would be the metal buckler, smaller and easily managed, with one hand, rather than an entire arm. It could turn a spear thrust, whereas a thrust or thrown spear would be likely to anchor itself in the common shield. Indeed, a common infantry tactic is to disable the
opponent's shield by penetrating it with one's spear. This, in effect, renders the shield not only ineffective but a liability, as the attack then proceeds with the gladius. The buckler I had in mind was not only easily manageable but would have two additional features of interest. First, it might be easily slung at the saddle, freeing the tarnsman's hands, for a purpose which will soon be obvious, the use of the bow, and, second, as in some arena bucklers, it would have a bladelike edge, thus allowing it to be used to cut at an opponent's body, ideally the throat. I did not expect there would be much call for this latter feature unless the tarnsman was on foot, but sometimes tarnsmen do lock in combat, even on tarnback, as the birds, spinning about, buffeting one another, screaming and twisting about, do grapple in the sky. The buckler, too, though with less efficacy than the larger shield, would provide some defense against flighted quarrels, at least for the most vulnerable areas of the body, those most frequently targeted. Lastly, its lightness, compared to the usual infantry shield, would to some extent, if only one rather negligible, increase the speed and maneuverability of the tarn. Given the size of the tarn, the beating of its
Swordsmen of Gor pg 393 - 397
"Perhaps she has a pretty body," I said, "which would look
well in a collar."
"She is a contract woman," said Tajima.
"Surely, wherever you come from, which I suspect is
faraway, you have collar-girls."
"Yes," he said.
"And I suppose they are not all light-skinned or darkskinned."
"No," said Tajima, "but they are not of the Pani."
"How is that?" I asked.
"Because as soon as they are collared, they are no longer
of the Pani, but only slave beasts."
"I see," I said.
"There are many such slave beasts," he said. "War is
frequent amongst the Pani."
Swordsmen of Gor pg 402
"With whom do you train in the forest?" I asked.
"Nodachi," he said.
"He is not a two-name person?" I asked.
"That is not his name," said Tajima. "His name is secret. He conceals it. He is called 'Nodachi'. That is merely a name for a battle sword, one to be used in the field."
"I understand little of this," I said.
"He is ronen," said Tajima. "A fellow of the waves, as it is
said, one with no home, one carried by the current, one with
no master, no captain. There are many such."
Swordsmen of Gor pg 403
An attack of this sort might be prolonged indefinitely, but I had ordered only three sweeps. I thought this would be adequate for the archers to accustom themselves to the attack, its speed and slope, and make any adjustments Swordsmen of Gor necessary. I would expect the third sweep of each rank to be more successful than the first or second, certainly more so than the first. This was the first time I had had the cavalry strike publicly, while under official observation, at ground targets in formation. Each rider, as indicated, had two broad quivers at his disposal, in each of which was a hundred
arrows. The common quiver of the great bow, familiar to the peasants, would contain between twenty and thirty arrows. A crossbowman would commonly carry even fewer bolts or quarrels. Let us suppose that a crossbowman on tarnback had twenty bolts, and, drawing and cocking the cable, and extracting the bolt, and placing it in the guide, and aiming, could fire one every twenty Ihn. He could thus fire twenty bolts in 400 Ihn, or ten Ehn. On the other hand, with the short bow one could fire an arrow every five Ihn. Thus, in 400 Ihn, or ten Ehn, he could fire 80 arrows. Thus, the fellow with
the short bow could fire four times as many arrows in a given period of time as the crossbowman. Further, given the quantity of arrows housed in the two broad quivers, whereas the ammunition of the crossbowman would be exhausted in ten Ehn, the ammunition of the other fellow, he with the short
bow, even at the increased rate of fire, would last twenty-five Ehn. Thus the bowman could fire four times to the crossbowman's once, and continue to fire for two and a half times as long. These figures are approximations, assuming averages, and typical marksmen. On the other hand, the differentials in fire power, with respect to rate of fire, and duration of fire, clearly and considerably favor the fellow with the short bow, at least until an enemy would adopt similar measures. In calculating these ratios I have supposed the crossbowman to be equipped with the stirrup bow, which may
be reloaded and fired much more rapidly than the crank-andratchet bow. The range and striking power of the stirrup bow somewhat exceeds that of the short bow, and the range of the crank-and-ratchet variety exceeds that of the stirrup bow. On the other hand, given the usual proximity to targets in
both cases, the rate and duration of fire of the short bow supplies it, in this sort of warfare, as it would in Tuchuk warfare, with a clear advantage. This is not to disparage certain advantages of the crossbow. For example, as with a rifle, it requires less skill to use it effectively than does the long, or short, bow. This is important if one is working with large groups of recruits from various backgrounds who may have been lured into service with inducement fees, or, not that infrequently, impressed into service. Similarly, the crossbow can remain ready to fire, for Ahn at a time. It is thus useful in door-to-door fighting, in stalking, in ambush, and so on. It is the weapon par excellence of the caste of Assassins.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 438-440
"Bucklers and blades," I said to the mercenaries.
I secured my own buckler from the saddle.
"You, too, buckler and blade," I said to Tajima and
Pertinax. It is true the blade may be used for both offense
and defense, but I would not trust it against a flighted
quarrel.
"Nodachi," said Tajima, "could deflect a quarrel with the
blade of even a companion sword."
"And do you possess his skills?" I asked.
"No," said Tajima.
"Fetch your buckler," I said to him.
"Yes, Tarl Cabot, tarnsman," he said.
The edged buckler, of course, as in the arena, is an
offensive weapon, as well as a defensive one.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 462
I saw some Pani about. Some had heads fastened at their belt. I saw no prisoners.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 264
These heads were clearly trophies of a sort. For example, a warrior might win favor from his daimyo or shogun by garnering heads, this understood as a proof of prowess in war. In such a way one might earn promotion, land, gifts, preferments, and such. I would also later learn that these heads, particularly if one of a celebrated foe, might be treasured, and kept indefinitely, the hair being carefully combed and dressed, the head being perfumed, the teeth painted black, and so on. The blackness of teeth was apparently regarded as cosmetically appealing. Indeed, certain beauties of the Pani, I would learn, blackened their teeth to enhance their charms. To be sure, neither of the contract women of Lord Nishida, one of whom was Sumomo,
who was apparently of interest to Tajima, and the other of whom was Hana, as I later discovered, I was pleased to note, had adopted this practice.
He in the helmet mask turned toward me, and I saw that the mask, in design and color, was garish. Too, it was horned. The entire effect was that of a hideous face, as of some frightful creature, or monster of sorts, surely not even a human face.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 469-470
In the midst of the Pani before the hut was a figure who wore a large, masklike helmet, whose features could not be discerned. Most of the Pani helmets, on the other hand, were open, though winged, that is, were rimmed to the sides and back, with something like a descending metal brim. They, like Gorean warriors, wore no visible body armor, as this defensive device was contrary to the rulings of Priest-Kings.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 466
"Let Lord Nishida be notified," I urged, "that he may
intervene."
"That is Lord Nishida," said Tajima, indicating the figure in
the fearsome mask with the bloodied sword.
"It cannot be," I said.
"It is," said Tajima.
"But his sword is bloodied," I protested.
"Lord Nishida is a great warrior," said Tajima.
"He fights, he, sword to sword?" I asked.
"Certainly," said Tajima. "It is our way. Who would follow
another?"
"Take prisoners!" I said.
"We do not require prisoners," said Tajima.
In common Gorean warfare it is not unknown for prisoners to be taken. They may be interrogated, worked, sold, and such. Too, occasionally, if important, and of station, they may be ransomed. The Pani, it seemed, might take prisoners but seldom did so. Sometimes prisoners were tortured, and
crucified, presumably primarily as examples to terrify enemies, reduce the temptation to sedition, and such. A common form of Gorean execution is impalement. The Pani regarded this as barbarous, but looked lightly on crucifixion. Such things apparently vary culturally. Perhaps one reason
the Pani are not prone to making prisoners is that it is thought that the prisoner might be expected, if honorable, to end his own life, to erase his shame at having fallen into the hands of the enemy, and thus, if this is so, he might as well be spared this indignity by being granted an earlier surcease.
Also, if heads are prized, and important with respect to advancement, and such, this militates against taking prisoners. An interesting exception to this sort of thing is that a prisoner, or one on the verge of capture, may be accorded the right to accept a new daimyo or shogun. Once he does
this he is then honor bound to serve the new leader, as he did the old, and, it seems, he may be depended on to do so. He is not a mercenary, but he is a loyal follower, whomsoever he follows. The prime reason for not taking prisoners, or not making it that much of a common practice, if this should be
truly so, is probably that the male prisoner is dangerous. He is feared, and perhaps wisely. Thus it seems supposed that he might be well done away with. Similarly, as in several periods in the Middle Ages on Earth, prisoners were done away with, there being no satisfactory provisions for their incarceration, particularly in the field, no prisoner cages, or such. Screams emanated from the burning hut.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 479-480
had not seen before. Had a larl by some incantation taken the form of a man, I thought it might be such a man. He was not large, but I felt a largeness somehow within him. Although of the Pani his visage was bearded, thinly, roughly, uncut, save perhaps by the sword, and his hair was long, and unkempt. His clothing was soiled, and uncared for. He was barefoot. In his belt, blades uppermost, were the two swords, the
companion sword and the longer blade. There was blood on his loose, short-armed robe. Some of it was spattered, and, in other places, he had apparently drawn his blades against the cloth, to clean the blade. I was startled to look upon him, for he seemed so different from the other Pani. He might, I supposed, be a hermit, or a recluse, one who lived by himself, with his thoughts. Perhaps he was a madman. That seemed to me possible, but then it seemed to me, rather, that there was a solidity about him, and a finely tempered, perhaps dangerous, rationality about him. I thought surely he was an unusual man, and one of perhaps a ferocious singleness of interest and purpose. I would learn later, however, that he carved wood, and composed small poems on bark. I had the sense he was without companion or slave, and by choice. Perhaps such might have distracted him from some more remote purpose, or goal, or ideal. He seemed to me a man driven, like a thing of nature, but from what or to what I did not know.
Swordsmen of Gor page 494
I sat near Lord Nishida, and he had offered me a sip of a different fermented beverage, one I had once tasted on Earth, though not of so fine a quality. It was warm, in its small bowl. "It is sake," I was informed. I nodded. There are rice fields on Gor, in the vicinity of Bazi, famed for its teas, but rice is not as familiar on Gor as the grain, sa-tarna. And Pani, as far as I knew, were not found in Bazi, or its environs. To be sure I supposed the rice might be Bazi rice, but I was not sure of that, not at all sure of it.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 569
I recalled that those of the dark caste, the caste of Assassins, were often sober fellows, often denying themselves much of what most prized as giving meaning to life. Theirs was a narrow, dark life. Few held slaves. Some, before the hunt, would use a woman, briefly, ruthlessly, unfeelingly,
leaving her shuddering, crumpled, and broken, sobbing, at their feet, before honing the selected blade, one of six, before painting the dagger on their forehead, that crowds might part uneasily before them, that taverns might fall silent, that children might flee, that men might bolt their doors. For
whom is the dagger painted? Seldom did those of the dark caste drink ka-la-na or paga. The eye must be sharp, the senses acute, the hand steady. The hunt must be cold, passionless, rational, deliberate, relentless. Seldom did they recreate themselves with the bodies of slaves. Muchly they stayed to themselves. Each seemed to dwell in the cave of his own intent, as though in a cell, a cell in a large, dark, walled household, from whose gates he might emerge, a grayness at dawn, an enigma at noon, a darkness in the darkness of the night. I thought them less than human, more than human, perhaps, best, other than human. I wondered if they had feelings. Even the venomous ost had feelings. Were they beasts? But beasts had feelings. It was said they were immune, like knives, to compassion. Surely there was no place for such things in the gloom and solemnity of their pursuits. Might one not more profitably implore a stone for mercy? In their dark, narrow world what light was there? Did they live with hate, or even without hate, as in a winter
without even cold? Did they know pleasure? I did not know. They lived for the kill. Perhaps they took pleasure in that. I did not know. They were of the dark caste, of the Assassins. I recalled one I had met, long ago, on the height of the Central Cylinder in Ar, Pa-Kur, master of the Assassins. He had leapt
from the height of the Cylinder and the body, it seemed, had been lost amongst the crowds below. It had, in any event, never been recovered. Doubtless it had been torn to pieces by the crowd. He was gone. Gor was safer without him. Men had feared even his shadow. A second one of the fellows had now stood up. They did not wear the Assassin's black. I did not think the dagger was borne on their foreheads. They were unhelmeted. Had the dagger been in evidence men, even drunk, would have drawn away from them, regarded them, clutched at their weapons, however clumsily.
Swordsmen of Gor page 577-578
I thought of the assassins of the medieval Middle East. The caste of assassins was quite different. They were not dupes, fools, madmen, too stupid to understand how they had been manipulated by others, young men drunk with the wine of death, who think they will somehow thrive in the cities of
dust. Against such mindless puppets, such naive fools, such lunatics, manipulated by those who send them forth, sitting safe in their mountain fastness, safe in their lair of prevarication and deceit, it is difficult to defend oneself. But the Gorean Assassin, he of the Black Caste, is not a naive,
twisted, deluded, managed beast serving the purposes of others, but a professional killer. He wishes to kill and vanish, to live, to kill again. Otherwise he is no more than a clumsy oaf, a failure, having accomplished no more than might have a desperate, simple, misguided fool. If he himself dies, he has
botched his work, he has failed, he has shamed his caste.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 600
A cage wagon rolled past, in which, turning and twisting about one another, agitated, were several larls. These were the beasts, primarily, who had patrolled outside the wands. They were trained from cubhood, to respond to secret commands. Accordingly, one who knew these commands might command them, venture beyond the wands, and so on. Ashigaru prowled the edges of the road, lest any of Lord Nishida's minions, primarily mercenaries, be tempted to avail themselves of an unobstructed highway to another prince, one with perhaps a deeper purse.
Swordsmen of Gor pg 635
Hundreds of Pani stirred, looked to the platform, uneasy. Glaives, the long-shafted, curved-bladed naginata, were grasped. From behind the platform, Pani archers rushed forth, standing between the platform and the mercenaries. Arrows were set to the strings of the Pani longbow, arrows which are
released at the bow's lower third, muchly different from the release point of either the peasant or saddle bow.
swordsmen of gor pg 701