Tarnsman of Gor   ::   Норман Джон

The tarn's steel-shod talons struck the marble roof of the cylinder with a flashof sparks. The great wings smote the air twice, raising a small hurricane that caused the startled onlookers to stagger backward. Lying on the ground, bound hand and foot, still clad in the white robe, was Talena. The point of the sharpened impaling post lay near her. As the tarn had landed, her executioners, two burly, hooded magistrates, had scrambled to their feet and fled to safety. The Initiates themselves do not execute their victims, as the shedding of blood is forbidden by those beliefs they regard as sacred. Now, helpless, Talena lay almost within the wing span of my tarn, so near to me and yet a world away.

"What is the meaning of this!" cried a strident voice, that of Pa-Kur.

I turned to face him, and the fury of what he meant to me ripped through my body, surging like a volcano, almost dominating me. Yet I did not answer him. Instead I called out to the men of Ar on the cylinder. "Men of Ar," I cried, "behold!" I gestured widely to the fields beyond the great gate. The approaching swarm of Pa-Kur's horde was visible, and the dust rose a thousand feet into the air. There were cries of rage.

"Who are you?" cried Pa-Kur, drawing his sword.

I threw off my helmet, flinging it down. "I am Tarl of Bristol," I said.

The cry of amazement and joy that broke from Talena's lips told me all I wanted to know.

"Impale,her," shouted Pa-Kur.

As the burly magistrates hastened forward, I seized my spear and hurled it with such force as I would not have believed possible. The spear flashed through the air like a bolt of lightning and struck the oncoming magistrate in the chest, passing through his body and burying itself in the heart of his companion.

There was an awe-stricken silence as the immensity of what had occurred impressed itself on the onlookers.

I was conscious of distant shouting in the streets far below. There was a smell of smoke. There was the faint clash of arms. "Men of Ar," I cried, "listen! Even now, in the streets below, Marlenus, your Ubar, fights for the freedom of Ar!"

The men of Ar looked at one another.

"Will you surrender your city? Yield your lives and women to Assassins?" I challenged. "Are you truly the men of never-conquered, imperishable Ar? Or are you but slaves who will exchange your freedom for the collar of Pa-Kur?"

"Down with the Initiates!" cried one man, drawing his sword. "Down with the Assassin!" cried another. There were shouts from the men of Ar and cries of terror from the Initiates as they cringed or fled.