Read Online Marauders of Gor by John Norman - Free Book Online Page B

him.
                With a roar of laughter, hurling the shroud from him,   to the horror of the High Initiate, and other initiates, and the congregation, Ivar Forksbeard, almost seven feet in height, leaped to his feet, in his right hand clutching a great, curved, single-bladed ax of hardened iron.
                "Praise be to Odin!" he cried.
                Then he with his ax, with a single swing, splattering blood on the sheets of gold, cut the head from the body of the High Initiate of Kassau, and leaped, booted, to the height of the very altar of the temple itself.
                He threw back his head laugh, with a wild roaring the bloody ax in his hand.
                I heard the beams of the two doors of the temples being thrown in place, locking the people within. I saw ther cloaks of the men of Torvaldsland hurled from them and saw, gripped in their two hands, great axes. I suddenly saw the large man of Torvaldsland, he of incredible stature, seem to come alive, veins prominent on his forehead, mouth slobbering, striking   about himself almost blindly with a great ax.
                Ivar Forksbeard stood on the high altar. "The men of Torvaldsland, " he cried, are upon you!"
                 
                Chapter 3                                                                                                I make the acquaitance of Ivar Forkbeard and book passage on his ship
                Screaming pierced my ears
                I was almost thrown from my feet by the buffeting, shrieking bodies.
                I strained my eyes to see through the clouds of incense hanging in the temple.
                I smelled blood.
                A girl cried out.
                People, merchants, the rich, the poor, fishermen, porters, fled towards the great doors, there to be cut down with axes. They fled back to the centre of the temple, huddled together. Axes cut through their midst. I heard shouts. I heard the harsh war cries of Torvaldsland. I heard golden sheets of metal being pried from the square pillars of the temple. The interior of the sanctuary was strewn with dead   initiates, many hacked to pieces. The four boys who had sung in the services held to one another, crying, like girls. From the high altar, standing upon it, Ivar Forkbeard directed his men. "Hurry!" he cried. "Gather what you can!"
                "Kneel beneath the ax!" cried out one of the burghers of Kassau, who wore black satin, a silver chain about his neck. I gathered he might be administrator in this town.
                The people, obediently, began to kneel on the dirt floor of the temple, their heads down.
                I saw two men of T loading their cloaks with golden plate and vessels from the sanctuary, hurling them like tin and iron into the furs.
                A fisherman cringed near me. One of the men of   Torvaldsland   raised his ax to strike him. I caught the ax as it descended and held it. The warrior of   Torvaldsland looked at me,   startled. His eyes widened. At his throat was then point of the sword of Port Kar.
                Weapon s are not to be carried in the temple of Priest-Kings but I had been taught, long ago, by Kamchak of the Tuchuks, at a banquet in Turia, that where weapons may not be carried, it is well to carry weapons.
                "Kneel before the ax," I told the fisherman.
                He did so
                I released the   ax of the man of Torvaldsland, and removed my blade from his throat. "Do not strike him," I told the man of Torvaldsland.
                He drew back his ax, and stepped away, regarding me, startled, wary.
                "Gather loot!" cried Forkbeard. " Are you