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

petals of the rences. In this tiny
    flame I thrust a bit of rence stem, from a bundle of such, and, with it, lit the
    tiny tharlarion-oil lamp set in its copper bowl. I put the bit of rence stem
    back, as I had seen Telima do, in the small bowl of petals, where, with the
    flaming petals, it was soon extinguished. The tharlarion-oil lamp, now lit,
    flickering, illuminated the interiour of the hut with a yellowish light.
    She was eating a rence cake. Her mouth was half full. She looked at me. “I shall
    not bind you tonight,” she said.
    Holding half the rence cake in her mouth she unrolled her sleeping mat and then,
    as she had the night before, she unlaced her tunic and slipped it off over her
    head. She threw it to a corner of the hut, on her left, near her feet. She sat
    on the sleeping mat and finished the rence cake. Then she wiped her mouth with
    her arm, and slapped her hands together, freeing them of crumbs.
    Then she unbound her hair, shaking it free.
    Then she reclined on the mat, facing me, resting on her right elbow. Her left
    knee was raised. She looked at me.
    “Serve my pleasure,” she said.
    “No,” I said.
    Startled, she looked at me.
    Just then, from outside, there was the wild, high, terrifed scream of a girl,
    and suddenly the music stopped. Then I heard shouts, cries of fear, confusion,
    the clash of arms.
    “Slavers!” I heard cry. “Slavers!”
    6       Slavers
    I was out of the hut.
    My response had been instantaneous, that of the trained warrior, startling me.
    The girl was but a moment behind me.
    I saw torches in the night, moving at the periphery of the island.
    A child ran past me. The circle of the dance was empty. The barkless pole stood
    alone. A woman was screaming among the refus of the feast. The marsh torches
    burned as quietly as they had. There were shouts. I heard the clank of arms,
    overlapping shields. Two men, rencers, ran past us. I heard what might have been
    a marsh spear splinger against metal. One man, a rencer, staggered backward
    drunkenly toward us. Then he wheeled and I saw, protruding from his chest, the
    fins of a crossbow bolt. He fell almost at our feet, his fingers clutching the
    fins, his knees drawn to his chin. Somewhere an infant was crying
    In the light of the moving torches, beyond them, toward the marsh, I saw, dark,
    the high, curved prows of narrow marsh barges, of the sort rowed by slaves.
    Telima threw her hands before her face, her eyes wild, and uttered a terrifying
    scream of fear.
    My had caught her right wrist and locked on it, like the manacle of a slave. I
    dragged her stumbling, screaming, toward the opposite side of the island, the
    darkness.
    But we found rencers running toward us, men, and women, and children, their
    hands outstretched, stumbling, falling. We heard the shouts of men behind them,
    saw the movement of spears.
    We ran with them toward yet another part of the island.
    Then, from the darkness before us, we heard a trumpet, and we stopped, confused.
    Suddenly there fell among us a rain of crossbow bolts. There were screams. A man
    to the left of us cried out and fell.
    We turned and ran again, stumbling in the torchlit darkness, across the woven
    mat of rence that was the surface of the island.
    Behind us we heard trumpets, and the beating of spears on shields, the shouts of
    men.
    The before us a woman screamed, stopping, pointing.
    “They have nets!” she cried.
    We were being driven toward the nets.
    I stopped, holding Telima to me. We were buffeted by the bodies of running
    rencers, plunging toward the nets.
    “Stop!” I cried. “Stop! There are nets! Nets!” But most of those with us,
    heedless, fleeing the trumpets and beating of spears on shields, ran wildly
    toward the nets, which suddenly emerged before them, held by slaves. These were
    not the small capture nets but wall nets, to block a path of escape. Between
    their interstices, here and there, spears thrust, forcing back those who would
    tear at them. Then