Post by Daubee on Mar 9, 2008 1:50:12 GMT -5
A Song of Tarl of Bristol and Glorious Ar And, as the torches burned lower in the wall racks, the singer continued to sing, and sang of gray Pa-Kur, Master of the Assassins, leader of the hordes that feel on Ar after the theft of her Home Stone; and he sang, too, of banners and black helmets, of upraised standards, of the sun flashing on the lifted blades of spears, of high siege towers and deeds, of catapults of Ka-la-na and tem-wood, of the thunder of war tharlarion and the beatings of drums and the roars of trumpets, the clash of arms and the cries of men; and he sang, too, of the love of men for their city, and, foolishly, knowing so little of men, he sang, too, the bravery of men, and their loyalties and their courage; and he sang then, too, of duels; of duels fought even on the walls of Ar herself, even at the great gate; and of tarnsmen locked in duels to the death over the spires of Ar; and yet another duel, one fought on the height of Ar’s cylinder of justice, between Pah-Kur, and he, in the song, called Tarl of Bristol.
Raiders of Gor, pages 225 - 226
I had noticed that there was among the crowd one tall, somber figure who sat alone on a high, wooden throne, surrounded by tarnsmen. He wore the black helmet of a member of the Caste of Assassins.
Tarnsman of Gor, page 133
“Were it not for the daughter of Marlenus,” said Pa-Kur, his metallic face as placid as the quicksilver behind a mirror, “I would have slain you honorably. That I swear by the black helmet of my caste.”
Tarnsman of Gor, page 138
“Across the left temple of the black helmet I fixed the golden slash of the messenger. In this disguise I freely wandered about the camp, observing the siege operations, the appointment of the compounds, the marshaling of troops.”
Tarnsman of Gor, page 176
In a few minutes I gathered together my own gear and put on the heavy black helmet of the Assassin, left the tent, and turned my steps in the direction of the tents of Pa-Kur.
Tarnsman of Gor, page 182
“No one ventured to repel me. All were silent. I wore the garb of the Caste of Assassins, and on the left temple of the black helmet was the golden slash of the messenger.”
Tarnsman of Gor, page 192
Raiders of Gor, pages 225 - 226
I had noticed that there was among the crowd one tall, somber figure who sat alone on a high, wooden throne, surrounded by tarnsmen. He wore the black helmet of a member of the Caste of Assassins.
Tarnsman of Gor, page 133
“Were it not for the daughter of Marlenus,” said Pa-Kur, his metallic face as placid as the quicksilver behind a mirror, “I would have slain you honorably. That I swear by the black helmet of my caste.”
Tarnsman of Gor, page 138
“Across the left temple of the black helmet I fixed the golden slash of the messenger. In this disguise I freely wandered about the camp, observing the siege operations, the appointment of the compounds, the marshaling of troops.”
Tarnsman of Gor, page 176
In a few minutes I gathered together my own gear and put on the heavy black helmet of the Assassin, left the tent, and turned my steps in the direction of the tents of Pa-Kur.
Tarnsman of Gor, page 182
“No one ventured to repel me. All were silent. I wore the garb of the Caste of Assassins, and on the left temple of the black helmet was the golden slash of the messenger.”
Tarnsman of Gor, page 192