Renegades of Gor by John Norman

Renegades of Gor by John Norman

Author:John Norman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction, General, Adventure, Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780759219564
Publisher: e-reads.com
Published: 2007-01-02T05:00:00+00:00


“She is pretty,” said the first.

“Yes,” said the other.

I released her. “You are in the presence of men,” I told her.

Swiftly she bent forward and put her head down to the ground.

“Take this slave,” I said to the fellow without the bow, “and put her with the

women and children. If you meet Cosians throw her to them. If they stop to take

her in tow you may escape. Similarly, in the vicinity of the women and children,

she might serve similar purposes, being used for a diversion or something.”

“We would rather stay with you, Captain,” said the fellow with the bow.

“The women and children will need you,” I said.

“What of you?” he asked.

“I would see what is going on by the gate,” I said.

The young man with the bow lifted it in salute.

(pg. 301) “Stand, slave,” said the other fellow to the girl. She stood and her

leash was taken in his grasp. She could not see, of course, confined in the

hood, but he had looped the end of the leash. It was long enough, thusly, to

serve as a disciplinary lash. In a moment the two young men, and the slave, had

disappeared through an interior portal at the far side of the courtyard. I

myself took one of the smaller portals at the far side, to follow an interior

corridor to the vicinity of the main gate. The great interior gate, leading into

the courtyard, like the covered way, some forty feet in length, had been backed

with debris. This was, indeed, the debris to which we had descended by means of

the rope. Provisions had been made, too, I supposed, for closing the corridors.

In the corridor I met retreating defenders.

“We are abandoning the gate, Marsias,” said one of them. “Come with us!”

I nodded. It was only later that I realized that he had called me “Marsias.” One

of the fellows on the wall, I remembered, had asserted that I was not Marsias.

Yet they had followed me. Marsias, then, surely, was the name of the fellow whom

I was impersonating.

I then emerged into the closed area between the outer and inner gate. There was

a huge hill of sand, rock and such, packed against the lower portions of the

outer gate. The ram could not be well turned within the covered way.

In this covered way, men passing him, from various parts of the citadel, taking

their way through the sheltered corridors, presumably to the harbor area, on a

piece of stone, broken from the inside of the way, his head in his hands, sat

Aemilianus, bleeding.

There was a great splintering of wood from above us and, over the hill of sand

and such, packed behind the door, suddenly, bursting wood apart, there

protruded, black, over five feet thick, and of solid iron, like some

mythological monster, a great form, with curled-back horns, cast in the likeness

of an adult verr ram.

I had never seen such a thing closely. I drew my sword and scrambled up the

debris behind the gate to examine it, but, as I approached it, it, in its

rhythm, swung back. I caught sight of figures on the hill outside, just

movements, parts of bodies.



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