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.txt'He will go away, and find himself another woman, one more lovely than a girlof Tharna.''Do you believe that?' I asked.'Yes,' said she.'And,' she added, 'he will not enter the city.He knows hePage 49 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlwould be caught and, considering his crime, he might be sent to the mines.'She shuddered.'Perhaps even be used in the Amusements of Tharna.''So you think he will fear to enter the city?' I asked.'Yes,' said she, 'he will not enter the city.He is not a fool.''What,' cried a merry young voice, insolent and good natured, 'could a wenchlike you know of fools, of the Caste of Singers, of Poets?'Linna sprang to her feet.Through the door of the dungeon a yoked figure was thrust by the butt ends oftwo spears.He stumbled through the entire room before he struck the wall withthe yoke.He managed to turn the yoke and slide down the wall to a seatedposition.He was an unkempt, strong-looking lad, with cheerful blue eyes and a mop ofhair like the mane of a black larl.He sat on the straw, and smiled at us, ajolly, impish, shamefaced smile.He stretched his neck in the yoke and movedhis fingers.'Well, Linna,' he said.'I have come to carry you off.''Andreas,' she cried, rushing to him.Chapter Thirteen: THE AMUSEMENTS OF THARNAThe sun hurt my eyes.The white sand, perfumed, sprinkled with mica and redlead, burned my feet.I blinked again and again, trying to lessen the tortureof the glare.Already I could feel the heat of the sun soaking into the silveryoke I wore.My back felt the jab of spears as I was prodded ahead and stumbled forward,unsteady under the weight of the yoke, my feet sinking to their ankles in thehot sand.On both sides of me were other wretched fellows, similarly yoked,some whining, some cursing, as they, too, were driven forward like beasts.One, silent, to my left, I knew to be Andreas of the Desert City ofTor.At last I no longer felt the spear point in my back.'Kneel to the Tatrix of Tharna,' commanded an imperious voice, speakingthrough some type of trumpet.I heard the voice of Andreas next to me.'Strange,' said he, 'usually theTatrix does not attend the Amusements of Tharna.'I wondered if I might be the reason that the Tatrix herself was present.'Kneel to the Tatrix of Tharna,' repeated the imperious voice.Our fellow prisoners knelt.Only Andreas and I remained standing.'Why do you not kneel?' I asked.'Do you think that only warriors are brave?' he asked.Suddenly he was struck from behind, brutally in the back by the butt of aspear, and, with a groan he sank downwards.The spear struck me, too, againfile:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Chronicles%20of%20Counter-Earth%201%20-%20Outlaw%20of%20Gor.txt (58 of 144) [1/20/03 3:23:17 AM]file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Chronicles%20of%20Counter-Earth%201%20-%20Outlaw%20of%20Gor.txt and again, in the back and across the shoulders, but I stood,somehow strong in the yoke, like an ox.Then with a harsh crack a lashsuddenly struck my legs and curled about them like a fiery snake.My legs werejerked from beneath me and I fell heavily in the sand.I looked about myself.As I had expected I and my fellow prisoners knelt in the sands of an arena.It was an oval enclosure, perhaps a hundred yards in diameter on its longestaxis, and enclosed by walls about twelve feet high.The walls were dividedinto sections, which were brightly coloured, with golds, purples, reds,oranges, yellows and blues.The surface of the area, white sand, perfumed and sparkling with mica and redlead, added to the colourful mien of the place.Hanging over favoured portionsof the stands, which ascended on all sides, were giant striped awnings ofbillowing red and yellow silk.It seemed that all the glorious colours of Gor which had been denied thebuildings of Tharna were lavished on this place of its amusements.Page 50 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlIn the stands, shaded by the awnings, I saw hundreds of sliver masks, thelofty women of Tharna, reclining on benches softened with cushions of colouredsilk - come to view the Amusements.I also noted the grey of the men in the stands.Several were armed warriors,perhaps stationed there to keep the peace, but many must have been commoncitizens of Tharna.Some seemed to be conversing among themselves, perhapslaying wagers of one sort or another, but most sat still on the stone benches,glum and silent in their grey robes, their thoughts not easily read.Linna, inthe dungeon, had told Andreas and me that a man of Tharna must attend theAmusements of Tharna at least four times a year, and that, failing that, hemust take part in them himself.There were cries of impatience from the stands, shrill, female voices oddlycontrasting with the placidity of the silver masks
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