Sport of Sky Sailing

"You are familiar, of course," I said, "with the Voltai Mountains." I had heard them referred to. Beyond that I knew nothing of them.

"No," she said, "I am of the Vosk Basin."

"Excellent," I thought. I then spoke. "Knew you more of the Voltai Mountains," I said, "you would be familiar with a sport enjoyed there by local lads, called the sport of sky sailing."

"I have never heard of it," she said.

"Of course not," I said. "You are not of the Voltai Mountains."

"What is sky sailing?" she asked.

"Large, light devices are built," I said, "frames, resembling wings, built of wooden strips, stout cordage, and thick canvas. One climbs up, fastens oneself within the frame, and leaps out, into the air, and floats about, like a leaf or feather."

"I do not believe you," she said.

I was muchly concerned to conceal my barbarian origin. Some, I knew, sought me. They sought a 'barbarian' Thus I wished to be taken as Gorean. Accordingly, in order not to give myself away, I wished to invent a Gorean background, or provenance, so to speak, for what I had in mind.

"It can be done," I said. As far as I knew, of course, those of the Voltai knew as little about such things as Temione.

"It sounds dangerous," she said.

"Accidents can happen," I said. "Are you ready to help?"

"It is a wagon of the air?" she said.

"In a way, "I said.

"The lads of the Voltai do this?" she asked.

"Frequently," I said. "Surely you do not doubt me."
. . .

We managed to carry our device swiftly over the flat shelf outside the cave, but, instead of continuing, utilizing the momentum of this rushing charge, as I had planned, we stopped short at the edge of the shelf.

"Why did you stop?" she asked.

"Why did you?" I asked.

"I was afraid," she said.

"I, too," I said.

"Remember the lads of the Voltai," she said. "Let us take courage from them."

"Yes," I said. "Let us do so."

"If they can do it, so, too, can we," she said.

"When I give the word," I said, "thrust the device out from the cliff." It would not do for it to strike the cliff and be broken, collapsed, or torn to pieces."

"I am ready," she said.

"Now!" I said.

It was a terrifying, sickening moment, realizing that the flat, firm, solid shelf outside the cave entrance was no longer beneath us. It was like a frightening step into nothingness. I hoped we would clear the cliff. And then, suddenly we felt as if we were yanked upward a foot or so in the air, and we sensed the wings of the ul, air beneath them, swelling upward, and we began to glide through the night, leaving the cave and cliff behind us.
. . .

"Do the lads in the Voltai who go sky sailing alight similarly?" she asked.

"I have never heard of one of them getting a scratch," I said.

"They must be skilled," she said.

"I have never heard of one of them who was not," I said.

"Doubtless they practice diligently," she said.

"I have never heard of one of them who did not," I said.
Treasure of Gor     Book 38     Pages 263 - 265

"Incidentally, Sweet Pockface," she said, "I made numerous inquiries pertaining to the young men of the Voltai who supposedly glide about on kitelike wings. No one has ever heard of them."
Treasure of Gor     Book 38     Page 612