Caste of Warriors

"The city-state," said my father, speaking to me one afternoon, "is the basic political division on Gor - hostile cities controlling what territory they can in their environs, surrounded by a no-man's land of open ground on every side."

"How is leadership determined in these cities?" I asked. "Rulers," he said, "are chosen from any High Caste."

"High Caste?" I asked.

"Yes, of course," was his answer. "In fact, in the First Knowledge, there is a story told to the young in their public nurseries, that if a man from Lower Caste should come to rule in a city, the city would come to ruin."

I must have appeared annoyed.

"The caste structure," said my father patiently, with perhaps the trace of a smile on his face, "is relatively immobile, but not frozen, and depends on more than birth. For example, if a child in his schooling shows that he can raise caste, as the expression is, he is permitted to do so. But, similarly, if a child does not show the aptitude expected of his caste, whether it be, say, that of physician or warrior, he is lowered in caste."

"I see," I said, not much reassured.

"The High Castes in a given city," said my father, "elect an administrator and council for stated terms. In times of crisis, a war chief, or Ubar, is named, who rules without check and by decree until, in his judgment, the crisis is passed."

"In his judgment?" I asked skeptically.

"Normally the office is surrendered after the passing of the crisis," said my father. "It is part of the Warrior's Code."

"But what if he does not give up the office" I asked. I had learned enough of Gor by how to know that one could not always count on the Caste Codes being observed.
"Those who do not desire to surrender their power," said my father, "are usually deserted by their men. The offending war chief is simply abandoned, left alone in his palace to be impaled by the citizens of the city he has tried to usurp."

I nodded, imagining a palace, empty save for one man sitting alone on his throne, clad in his robes of state, waiting for the angry people outside the gates to break through and work their wrath.

"But," said my father, "sometimes such a war chief, or Ubar, wins the hearts of his men, and they refuse to withdraw their allegiance."

"What happens then?" I asked.

"He becomes a tyrant," said my father, "and rules until eventually, in one way or another, he is ruthlessly deposed." My father's eyes were hard and seemed fixed in thought. It was not mere political theory he spoke to me. I gathered that he knew of such a man. "Until," he repeated slowly, "he is ruthlessly deposed."
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Pages 42 - 43


This was my introduction to my instructor in arms, whose name was also Tarl. I shall call him the Older Tarl. He was a blond Viking giant of a man, a bearded fellow with a cheerful, craggy face and fierce blue eyes, who strode about as though he owned the earth on which he stood. His whole body, his carriage, the holding of his head bespoke the warrior, a man who knew his weapons and, on the simple world of Gor, knew that he could kill almost any man who might stand against him.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Pages 46 - 47


I was also forced to learn to throw the spear with my left hand.
Once I objected.
"What if you are wounded in the right arm?" demanded the Older Tarl. "What will you do then?"
"Run?" suggested Torm, who occasionally observed these practice sessions.
"No!" cried the Older Tarl. "You must stand and be slain like a warrior!"
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 47


The Older Tarl, my redoubtable instructor in arms, did not care for them, regarding them as secondary weapons almost unworthy for the hand of a warrior. I did not share his contempt, and occasionally during my rest periods had sought to improve my proficiency with them.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 49


Black tarns are used for night raids, white tarns in winter campaigns, and multicolored, resplendent tarns are bred for warriors who wish to ride proudly, regardless of the lack of camouflage.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Pages 51 - 52


The tarn is one of the two most common mounts of a Gorean warrior; the other is the high tharlarion, a species of saddle-lizard, used mostly by clans who have never mastered tarns.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 52


If I was to die, it would be, if I was not to die, I would not.
I smiled to myself in spite of my fear, amused at the remark I had addressed to myself. It sounded like something out of the Code of the Warrior, something which, if taken literally, would seem to encourage its believer to take not the slightest or most sane precautions for his safety.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 53

The Chamber of the Council is the room in which the elected representatives of the High Castes of Ko-ro-ba hold their meetings. Each city has such a chamber. It was in the widest of cylinders, and the ceiling was at least six times the height of the normal living level. The ceiling was lit as if by stars, and the walls were of five colors, applied laterally, beginning from the bottom - white, blue, yellow, green, and red, caste colors. Benches of stone, on which the members of the Council sat, rose in five monumental tiers about the walls, one tier for each of the High Castes. These tiers shared the color of that portion of the wall behind them, the caste colors.

The tier nearest the floor, which denoted some preferential status, the white tier, was occupied by Initiates, Interpreters of the Will of the Priest-Kings. In order, the ascending tiers, blue, yellow, green, and red, were occupied by representatives of the Scribes, Builders, Physicians, and Warriors.

Torm, I observed, was not seated in the tier of Scribes, I smiled to myself. "I am," Torm had said, "too practical to involve myself in the frivolities of government," I supposed the city might be under siege and Torm would fall to notice.

I was pleased to note that my own caste, that of the Warriors, was accorded the least status; if I had had my will, the warriors would not have been a High Caste. On the other hand, I objected to the Initiates being in the place of honor, as it seemed to me that they, even more than the Warriors, were nonproductive members of society. For the Warriors, at least, one could say that they afforded protection to the city, but for the Initiates one could say very little, perhaps only that they provided some comfort for ills and plagues largely of their own manufacture.

In the center of the amphitheater was a throne of office, and on this throne, in his robe of state - a plain brown garment, the humblest cloth in the hall - sat my father, Administrator of Ko-ro-ba, once Ubar, War Chieftain of the city. At his feet lay a helmet, shield, spear, and sword.

"Come forward, Tarl Cabot," said my father, and I stood before his throne of office, feeling the eyes of eye, one in the chamber on me. Behind me stood the Older Tarl. I had noted that those blue Viking eyes showed almost no evidence of the previous night. I hated him, briefly.

The Older Tarl was speaking. "I, Tarl, Swordsman of Ko-ro-ba, give my word that this man is fit to become a member of the High Caste of Warriors."

My father answered him, speaking in ritual phrases. "No tower in Ko-ro-ba is stronger than the word of Tarl, this Swordsman of our city. I, Matthew Cabot of Ko-ro-ba, accept his word."

Then, beginning with the lowest tier, each member of the Council spoke in succession, giving his name and pronouncing that he, too, accepted the word of the blond swordsman. When they had finished, my father invested me with the arms which had lain before the throne. About my shoulder he slung the steel sword, fastened on my left arm the round shield, placed in my right hand the spear, and slowly lowered the helmet on my head.

"Will you keep the Code of the Warrior?" asked my father.

"Yes," I said, "I will keep the Code."

"What is your Home Stone?" asked my father.

Sensing what was wanted, I replied, "My Home Stone is the Home Stone of Ko-ro-ba."

"Is it to that city that you pledge your life, your honor, and your sword?" asked my father.

"Yes," I said.

"Then," said my father, placing his hands solemnly on my shoulders, "in virtue of my authority as Administrator of this City and in the presence of the Council of High Castes, I declare you to be a Warrior of Ko-ro-ba."
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Pages 61 - 63


My father was smiling. I removed my helmet, feeling proud as I heard the approval of the Council, both in voice and by Gorean applause, the quick, repeated striking of the left shoulder with the palm of the right hand. Aside from candidates for the status of Warrior, none of my caste was permitted to enter the Council armed. Had they been armed, my caste brothers in the last tier would have struck their spear blades on their shields. As it was, they smote their shoulders in the civilian manner, more exuberantly perhaps than was compatible with the decorum of that weighty chamber.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 63


Any attempt on the Home Stone was regarded by the citizens of a city as sacrilege of the most heinous variety and punishable by the most painful of deaths, but, paradoxically, it was regarded as the greatest of glories to purloin the Home Stone of another city, and the warrior who managed this was acclaimed, accorded the highest honors of the city, and was believed to be favored by the Priest-Kings themselves.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Pages 67 - 68


The Home Stone of a city is the center of various rituals. The next would be the Planting Feast of Sa-Tarna, the Life-Daughter, celebrated early in the growing season to insure a good harvest. This is a complex feast, celebrated by most Gorean cities, and the observances are numerous and intricate. The details of the rituals are arranged and mostly executed by the Initiates of a given city. Certain portions of the ceremonies, however, are often allotted to members of the High Castes.
In Ar, for example, early in the day, a member of the Builders will go to the roof on which the Home Stone is kept and place the primitive symbol of his trade, a metal angle square, before the Stone, praying to the Priest-Kings for the prosperity of his caste in the coming year; later in the day a Warrior will, similarly, place his arms before the Stone, to be followed by other representatives of each caste. Most significantly, while these members of the High Castes perform their portions of the ritual, the Guards of the Home Stone temporarily withdraw to the interior of the cylinder, leaving the celebrant, it is said, alone with the Priest-Kings.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 67


"Women are seldom permitted to ride on the backs of tarns," she said. "In the carrying baskets, but not as a warrior rides."
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 70


She replied proudly, "My bride price would be a hundred tarns."
I whistled softly to myself - my ex-slave would have come high. On a Warrior's allowance I would not have been able to afford her.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 71


In the barbaric world of Gor, the Robes of Concealment are deemed necessary to protect the women from the binding fibers of roving tarnsmen. Few warriors will risk their lives to capture a woman who may be as ugly as a tharlarion. Better to steal slaves, where the guilt is less and the charms of the captive are more readily ascertainable in advance.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 87


"I can force you to take me," she said.
"How?" I asked.
"Like this," she responded, kneeling before me, lowering her head and lifting her arms, the wrists crossed. She laughed. "Now you must take me with you or slay me," she said, "and I know you cannot slay me."
I cursed her, for she took unfair advantage of the Warrior Codes of Gor.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 109


Free women on Gor do not travel attended by only a single warrior, not of their own free will.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 112


"What news of the Home Stone of Ar and the daughter of Marlenus?" I asked, feeling it would be the sort of thing a warrior would expect me to be interested in.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 116


"I like this girl," said the warrior. "Yield her to me!"
"No," I said.
"Yield her or I will have my tharlarion trample you," he snapped, "or would you prefer to be spitted on my lance?"
"You know the codes," I said evenly. "If you want her, you must challenge for her and meet me with the weapon of my choice."
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 117


"Do not harm him," said Kazrak. "He is my sword brother, Tarl of Bristol." Kazrak's remark was in accord with the strange warrior codes of Gor, codes which were as natural to him as the air he breathed, and codes which I, in the Chamber of the Council of Ko-ro-ba, had sworn to uphold. One who has shed your blood, or whose blood you have shed, becomes your sword brother, unless you formally repudiate the blood on your weapons. It is a part of the kinship of Gorean warriors regardless of what city it is to which they owe their allegiance. It is a matter of caste, an expression of respect for those who share their station and profession, having nothing to do with cities or Home Stones.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 119


The tharlarion saddle, unlike the tarn saddle, is constructed to absorb shock. Primarily, this is done by constructing the tree of the saddle in such a way that the leather seat is mounted on a hydraulic fitting which actually floats in a thick lubricant. Not only does this lubricant absorb much of the shock involved, but it tends, except under abnormal stress, to keep the seat of the saddle parallel to the ground. In spite of this invention, the mounted warriors always wear, as an essential portion of their equipment, a thick leather belt, tightly buckled about their abdomen. In addition, the mounted warriors wear a high, soft pair of boots called tharlarion boots. These protect their legs from the abrasive hides of their mounts. When a tharlarion runs, its hide could tear the unprotected flesh from a man's bones.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 125


"It was her wish that you die the death of a villain," he said, "on the Frame of Humiliation, unworthy to stain our weapons.
. . .
The image of the treacherous, beautiful Talena, in her dancing silks, as she had lain in my arms, tormented me - she who would gladly give her kisses to the cold Pa-Kur for a place on the throne of Ar, she whose implacable hatred had sent me to this terrible death, not even permitting me the honor of a warrior's end.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Pages 138 - 139


"What can you, a simple tarnsman, know of these things?" he asked. "But I, Marlenus, though a warrior, was more than a warrior, always more than a warrior. Where others could see no more than the codes of their castes, where others could sense no call of duty beyond that of their Home Stone, I dared to dream the dream of Ar that there might be an end to meaningless warfare, bloodshed, and terror, an end to the anxiety and peril, the retribution and cruelty that cloud our lives - I dreamed that there might arise from the ashes of the conquests of Ar a new world, a world of honor and law, of power and justice."
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 155


Still I would not speak, not while he controlled a weapon; unfortunately, the first thing a Gorean warrior is likely to do to the stranger in his tent is kill him, the second is to find out who he is.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 167


Pa-Kur, for his part, demanded and was granted the usual savage fees imposed by the Gorean conqueror. The population would be completely disarmed. Possession of a weapon would be regarded as a capital offense. Officers in the Warrior Caste and their families were to be impaled, and in the population at large every tenth man would be executed.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 188


Suddenly I was again my own master, again rational. The shock of seeing her, of knowing the fate that awaited her had been too much. I must try not to be weak in the way of the things I love. It is unbefitting a warrior of Gor.
Tarnsman of Gor     Book 1     Page 190


The spear was a typical Gorean spear, about seven feet in height, heavy, stout, with a tapering bronze head some eighteen inches in length.
. . .
Indeed, the Gorean spear is such that many warriors scorn lesser missile weapons, such as the longbow or crossbow, both of which are not uncommonly found on Gor.
. . .
I opened the leather bundle. In it I found the scarlet tunic, sandals and cloak which constitute the normal garb of a member of the Caste of Warriors.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Pages 21 - 22


I now dressed myself in the scarlet garb of a warrior of Gor. I was puzzled that the garb, like the helmet and shield, bore no insignia. This was contrary to the ways Gor, for normally only the habiliments of outlaws and exiles, men without a city, lack the identifying devices of which the Gorean is so proud.
I donned the helmet, and slung the shield and sword over my left shoulder. I picked up the massive spear lightly in my right hand.
. . .
I became aware that I was singing as I walked through the grass, a warrior song.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 24


I had scarcely stepped from the stones of the road when, coming down the road, each step carefully measured and solid, I saw a wide, hunched figure, bending under a gigantic bundle of sticks, strapped to his back by two cords which he held twisted in his fists in front of his body.
. . .
The weight the man was carrying was prodigious, and would have staggered men of most castes, even that of the Warriors.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 27


"I mean you and your Home Stone no harm," I said. " I have no money and cannot pay you, but I am hungry."
"A warrior takes what he wishes," said the man.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 28


Indeed, frequent enough were the stories where even a warrior was overcome by an angry peasant into whose hut he had intruded himself, for in the vicinity of their Home Stones men fight with all the courage, savagery and resourcefulness of the mountain larl.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 29


I gently disengaged myself from the girl, and shoved her behind me. The meaning of the action was not lost on the warriors.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 57


Now many assassins roamed Gor, fearing to wear the somber black tunic of their caste, disguised as members of other castes, not infrequently as warriors.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 72


"You are of high caste, of the Caste of Warriors," said the proprietor. "It is not proper that you should remain here."
I did not much care for the prospect of emerging again into the cold rainy night, of tramping once more through the streets, miserable, chilled to the bone, looking for a place to eat and sleep. I took a coin from the leather sack and threw it to the proprietor. He snatched it expertly from the air like a skeptical cormorant. He examined the coin. It was a silver tarn disk. He bit against the metal, the muscles on his jaw bulging in the lamplight. A trace of avaricious pleasure appeared in his eyes. I knew he would not care to return it.
"What caste is it?" I demanded.
The proprietor smiled. "Money has no caste," he said.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Pages 77 - 78


Soon, pounding the time on the table with the butt of my spear, I was leading a raucous round of songs, mostly wild drinking songs, warrior songs, songs of the encampment and march, but too I taught them songs I had learned in the caravan of Mintar the Merchant, so long ago, when I had first loved Talena, songs of love, of loneliness, of the beauties of one's cities, and of the fields of Gor.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Pages 79 - 80


I followed the guardsman, yet ringed with his men, to the palace of the Tatrix. Ost scurried along behind us, puffing and gasping, his short, bandy legs struggling to keep pace with the stride of warriors.
I felt that even had I chosen to forswear my pledge, which as a warrior of Gor I would not, my chances of escape would have been small indeed.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Pages 83 - 84


"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.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 109


Like most members of my Caste, more than the monstrous tarns, those carnivorous hawklike giants of Gor, I dreaded such creatures as the tiny ost, that diminutive, venomous reptile, orange, scarcely more than a few inches in length, that might lurk at one's very sandal and then, without provocation or warning, strike, its tiny fangs the prelude to excruciating torment, concluding only with sure death. Among warriors, the bite of an ost is thought to be one of the most cruel of all gates to the Cities of Dust; far preferable to them are the rending beak, the terrible talons of a tarn.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 118


She sprang to her feet. "Think, Warrior," she cried, "of your honor." Her voice was triumphant. "Would you satisfy your vengeance at the price of slavery for your friends?"
"No," I cried angrily, inwardly delighted, "for I am a warrior!"
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 137


"Are you asking us to become warriors?" cried a voice.
"Yes!" I cried, and such words had never before been spoken on Gor. "In this cause," I said, "whether you are of the Caste of peasants, or Poets, or Metal Workers, or Saddle Makers, you must be warriors!"
. . .
And it seemed strange to me that this rebellion, this willingness to pursue the right as they saw it, independently of the will of the Priest-Kings, had come not first from the proud Warriors of Gor, nor the Scribes, nor the Builders nor Physicians, nor any of the high castes of the many cities of Gor, but had come from the most degraded and despised of men, wretched slaves from the mines of Tharna.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Pages 169 - 170


Andreas of the Caste of Poets stood in torment before me, agony in his eyes.
"I wish you well," I said, "- Poet."
He nodded. "I wish you well," he said, "- Warrior." Perhaps both of us wondered that friendship should exist between members of such different castes, but perhaps both of us knew, though we did not say so, that in the hearts of men arms and song are never far distant.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 172


Using the Warrior's Pace, a slow jog that can be prolonged for hours, I left the Compound of the Mines.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 176


"Give me your sword, Warrior," said she, "and I will throw myself upon it."
"No," I said.
"Ah yes," she said, "a warrior is unwilling to have the blood of a woman on his sword."
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 200


"Don't struggle," I said to him, looking at the wound. The helmet had largely absorbed the blow but the blade of the striking instrument had creased the skull, accounting for the flow of blood. Most likely the force of the blow had rendered him unconscious and the blood had suggested to his assailant that the job was finished. His assailant had apparently not been a warrior.
. . .
I gathered that he had not enjoyed the performance of his duty, and that perhaps his heart lay with the rebels, but the pride of his caste had kept him at his post. Even in his youth he had the blind loyalty of the warrior, a loyalty which I respected and which was perhaps no more blind than some I myself had felt. Such men made fearsome antagonists, even though their swords might be pledged to the most despicable of causes.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 217


As I entered the room the men rose to their feet and shouted and lifted their cups in salute.
Almost as one they cried out, "Tal, Warrior!"
"Tal, Warriors!" I responded, raising my arm, addressing them all by the title of my caste, for I knew that in their common cause each was a warrior.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 224


When at last I stood unslain on the black cobblestones at the foot of the double rampart I knew that though Dorna the Proud might rule in Tharna, though it might be she who sat upon the golden throne of the city, that it was the word of a warrior that ruled on those ramparts above me.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 230


"I come on behalf of Lara, who is true Tatrix of Tharna. Sheathe your weapons. No more shed the blood of men of your own city. I ask this in the name of Lara, and of the city of Tharna and its people. And I ask it in the name of the codes of your own caste, for your swords are pledged to the true Tatrix Lara not Dorna the Proud!"
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 231


"You are warriors!" I cried. "Your swords are pledged to your city, to its walls, to your people and your Tatrix. Serve her!"
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 233


Seemingly almost impassive, the golden-robed figure on the throne watched the two warriors moving backward and forward before her, one clad in the blue helmet and gray tunic of Tharna, the other in the universal scarlet of the Gorean Caste of Warriors.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Pages 237 - 238


I wondered how it was that Thorn had given his life for this woman. It did not seem it could have been a matter of caste obligation for this obligation had been owed not to Dorna but to Lara. He had broken the codes of his caste to support the treachery of Dorna the Proud.
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 242


But I go to the Sardar for more than truth; foremost in my brain there burns, like an imperative of steel, the cry for blood-vengeance, mine by sword-right, mine by the affinities of blood and caste and city, mine for I am one pledged to avenge a vanished people, fallen walls and towers, a city frowned upon by Priest-Kings, for I am a Warrior of Ko-ro-ba!
Outlaw of Gor     Book 2     Page 252


In differences among members of my own caste, that of the Warriors, it is easier to tell who has carried the day, for the defeated one often lies wounded or slain at the victor's feet. In the contests of scribes, on the other hand, the blood that is spilled is invisible and the valiant foemen retire in good order, reviling their enemies and recouping their forces for the next day's campaign. I do not hold this against the contests of scribes; rather I commend it to the members of my own caste.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 9


The expeditions sent out from the cities are of course extremely well guarded, but pirates and outlaws too can band together in large numbers and sometimes, even more dangerously, one city's warriors, in force, will prey upon another city's caravans. This, incidentally, is one of the more frequent causes of war among these cities. The fact that warriors of one city sometimes wear the insignia of cities hostile to their own when they make these attacks further compounds the suspicions and internecine strife which afflicts the Gorean cities.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 13


I am of the Caste of Warriors, and it is in our codes that the only death fit for a man is that in battle, but I can no longer believe that this is true, for the man I met once on the road to Ko-ro-ba died well, and taught me that all wisdom and truth does not lie in my own codes.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 14


For some reason I laughed and my laugh was the laugh of a warrior of Gor, full and mighty, unafraid, and it roared in the dark and lonely Hall of Priest-Kings.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 33


Had I now become so much the Gorean warrior that I could disregard the feelings of a fellow creature, in particular those of a girl, who must be protected and cared for? Could it be that I had, as the Codes of my Caste recommended, not even considered her, but merely regarded her as a rightless animal, no more than a subject beast, an abject instrument to my interests and pleasures, a slave?
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Pages 47 - 48


My business was with the dread denizens of these dim passageways which had so inspired her terror; my business was not that of the comforter or friend, but that of the warrior.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 51


My Chamber Slave's accent had been pure High Caste Gorean though I could not place the city. Probably her caste had been that of the Builders or Physicians, for had her people been Scribes I would have expected a greater subtlety of inflections, the use of less common grammatical cases; and had her people been of the Warriors I would have expected a blunter speech, rather belligerently simple, expressed in great reliance on the indicative mood and, habitually, a rather arrogant refusal to venture beyond the most straightforward of sentence structures.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 52


"I am here!" I cried. "I am Tarl Cabot. I am a warrior of Ko-ro-ba and I issue the challenge of a warrior to the Priest-Kings of Gor! Let us do battle! Let us make war!"
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 54


I hummed a warrior's tune, for somehow I was happy.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 56


Sarm looked at the case. "You were of the Caste of Warriors," he said. "Perhaps you would like to be given a female Mul?"
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 132 - 133


Then it occurred to me that there must be some vital center not mentioned by Sarm, probably a crucial organ or organs for pumping the body fluids of the Priest-Kings, most simply something corresponding to the heart. But of course he would not tell me of this, nor of its location. Rather than reveal this information he would undoubtedly prefer that I hack away at doomed Misk as though he were a block of insensate fungus. Not only would I not do this because of my affection for Misk but even if I intended to kill him I surely would not have done so in this manner, for it is not the way a trained warrior kills.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Pages 150 - 151


I liked the blade which seemed so simple and efficient compared to the manifold variations in sword steel that were possible. I supposed one of the reasons for the short blade was that it could clear the sheath a fraction of a second before a longer blade. Another advantage was that it could be moved with greater swiftness than a longer blade. The primary advantage I supposed was that it allowed the Gorean warrior to work close to his man. The brief reach of the blade tended to be more than compensated for by the rapidity with which it might be wielded and the ease with which it might work beneath the guard of a longer weapon. If the swordsman with a longer weapon could not finish the fight in the first thrust or two he was a dead man.
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 174


"Until you find Talena," he said, "your companion is peril and steel."
It was an old Warrior saying.
I drew the blade and examined it.
The Older Tarl's eyes, like mine, ran the edge, and I saw that he approved.
"You carried it at Ar," he said.
"Yes," I said. "The same."
"Peril and steel," said he.
"I know," I said. "I have before me the work of a Warrior."
Priest-Kings of Gor     Book 3     Page 307


He circled me, widely. "Beware," he said, "I carry a Home Stone."
I stood back and made no move to draw my weapon. Though I was of the caste of warriors and he of peasants, and I armed and he carrying naught but a crude tool, I would not dispute his passage. One does not lightly dispute the passage of one who carries his Home Stone.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 1


But I knew that more than anything I was doing this for Misk - who was my friend.
The consequences of my act, if I were successful, were too complex and fearful to calculate, the factors involved being so numerous and obscure.
If it turned out badly, what I did, I would have no defense other than that I did what I did for my friend - for him - and for his brave kind, once hated enemies, whom I had learned to know and respect.
There is no loss of honor in failing to achieve such a task, I told myself. It is worthy of a warrior of the caste of Warriors, a swordsman of the high city of Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 8


For example, every male of the Wagon Peoples is expected to be a warrior, to be able to ride, to be able to hunt, to care for the bosk, and so on.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 12


"You are a stranger," he said.
"I come in peace to the Wagon Peoples," I said.
"You wear no insignia on your shield," he said. "You are outlaw."
I did not respond. I was entitled to wear the marks of the city of Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning, but I had not done so. Once, long, long ago, Ko-ro-ba and Ar had turned the invasion of the united Wagon Peoples from the north, and the memories of these things, stinging still in the honest songs of camp skalds, would rankle in the craws of such fierce, proud peoples. I did not wish to present myself to them as an enemy.
"What was your city?" he demanded.
But to such a question, as a warrior of Ko-ro-ba, I could not but respond.
"I am of Ko-ro-ba," I said. "You have heard of her."
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 18


I fished the necklace from the dust with the point of my spear and regarded it in the sun. It hung like a belt of light, sparkling with a spectrum of riches beyond the dreams of a hundred merchants.
"Excellent," I admitted, handing it back to him on the tip of the spear.
Angrily he wound it about the pommel of the saddle.
"But I am of the Caste of Warriors," I said, "of a high city and we do not stain our spears for the stones of men not even such stones as these."
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 20


I was later to learn that kaiila are trained to avoid the thrown spear. It is a training which begins with blunt staves and progresses through headed weapons. Until the kaiila is suitably proficient in this art it is not allowed to breed. Those who cannot learn it die under the spear. Yet, at a close range, I had no doubt that I could slay the beast. As swift as may be the kaiila I had no doubt that I was swifter. Gorean warriors hunt men and larls with this weapon. But I did not wish to slay the animal, nor its rider.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 24


Each warrior of the Wagon Peoples, and that means each able-bodied man, is a member of an Or, or a Ten; each ten is a member of an Orlu, or Hundred; each Orlu is a member of an Oralu, a Thousand. Those who are unfamiliar with the Wagon Peoples, or who know them only from the swift raid, sometimes think them devoid of organization, sometimes conceive of them as mad hordes or aggregates of wild warriors, but such is not the case. Each man knows his position in his Ten, and the position of his Ten in the Hundred, and of the Hundred in the Thousand. During the day the rapid movements of these individually maneuverable units are dictated by bosk horn and movements of the standards; at night by the bosk horns and the war lanterns slung on high poles carried by riders.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 175


The other warrior, a strong, gaunt man, scarred across the left cheekbone, with shrewd, dark eyes, said nothing, but watched us, considering us, as a warrior considers an enemy.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Pages 194 - 195


Ha-Keel drew his sword. "Let me slay him as befits a warrior," he said.
"No," cried the Paravaci, "let me have him as well as the other."
"No," said Saphrar firmly. "They are both mine." Ha-Keel angrily rammed his sword back into the sheath. He had clearly wanted to kill me honorably, swiftly. Clearly he had little stomach for whatever games the Paravaci or Saphrar might have in mind. Ha-Keel might have been a cutthroat and a thief but, too, he was of Ar - and a tarnsman.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 199


She was trying to free herself. After an instant she realized that she could not, that she had been bound by a warrior.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 221


I had just picked up the last stone and tucked it back in my pouch and was about to rise from my knees when I found myself staring at the high, heavy sandals, almost boots, of a warrior.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 235


"There is a certain resemblance between yourself and my friend Tarl Cabot," Harold was saying, "save that your swordplay is decidedly inferior to his. Also he was of the caste of warriors and would not permit himself to be seen on his funeral pyre in the robes of so low a caste as that of the Bakers. Moreover, his hair was red like a larl from the sun - whereas yours is a rather common and, if I may say so, a rather uninspired black."
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 245


Moreover, I reminded myself of my work, and that a warrior cannot well encumber himself with a woman, particularly not a free woman. His companion, as it is said, is peril and steel.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Page 287


You know your codes, do you not?" she challenged. "The codes of the warrior of Gor?"
"Do not," I said.
Again she slapped me and my head leaped to the side, burning. "I hate you," she hissed.
And then, as I knew she would, she suddenly knelt before me, in fury, head down, arms extended, wrists crossed, submitting as a Gorean female.
"Now," she said, looking up, her eyes blazing with anger, "You must either slay me or enslave me."
"You are free," I said sternly.
"Then slay me," she demanded.
"I could not do that," I said.
"Collar me," she said.
"I have no wish to do so," I said.
"Then acknowledge your codes betrayed," she said.
"Fetch the collar," I said.
She leaped up to fetch the collar and handed it to me, again kneeling before me.
I encircled her lovely throat with the steel and she looked up at me, angrily.
I snapped it shut.
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Pages 292 - 293


The other man with them was a young man, dark-haired and eyed, a simple man-at-arms, perhaps not more than twenty. He wore the scarlet of a warrior. He carried a short sword and stood between us and the others.
Kamchak regarded him, and I thought with the merest trace of amusement.
"Do not interfere, Lad," said he, quietly. "There is the business of men afoot in this place."
"Stand back, Tuchuk," cried the young man. He held his sword ready.
Kamchak signaled for a bag of gold, and Phanius Turmus was kicked forward, and from a large, bronze pan which he carried, Kamchak removed a sack of gold and threw it to one side.
The young man did not move from his place, but set himself to take the charge of the Tuchuks.
Kamchak threw another sack of gold to his feet, and then another.
"I am a warrior," said the young man proudly.
Kamchak signaled his archers and they came forward, their arrows trained on the young man.
He then threw, one after another, a dozen bags of gold to the floor.
"Save your gold, Tuchuk sleen," said the young man. "I am a warrior and I know my codes."
"As you wish," said Kamchak and raised his hand to signal the archers.
"Do not!" I cried.
In that moment, uttering the Turian war cry, the young man rushed forward with his sword on Kamchak and the dozen arrows flew simultaneously, striking him a dozen times, turning him twice. Yet did he try still to stagger forward and then another arrow and another pierced his body until he fell at Kamchak's feet.
To my astonishment I saw that not one of the arrows had penetrated his torso or head or abdomen, but that each had struck only an arm or leg.
It had been no accident.
Kamchak turned the young man over with his boot. "Be a Tuchuk," he said.
"Never," wept the young man in pain, between clenched teeth. "Never, Tuchuk sleen, never!"
Kamchak turned to certain of the warriors with him. "Bind his wounds," he said. "See that he lives. When he can ride teach him the saddle of the kaiila, the quiva, the bow and lance. Put him in the leather of a Tuchuk. We have need of such men among the wagons."
I saw the astonished eyes of the young man regarding Kamchak, and then he was carried away.
"In time," said Kamchak, "that boy will command a Thousand."
Nomads of Gor     Book 4     Pages 314 - 315


Kuurus watched, unmoved, as the four Warriors carried their scarlet burden to the height of the huge, sweet-smelling, oil-impregnated pyre.
Averting their eyes the Warriors threw back the scarlet leather that the body might lie free on the spears, open to the wind and sun.
He was a large man, Kuurus noted, in the leather of a Warrior.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 2


. . . the body had been wrapped in the scarlet leather of a tarnsman
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 3


The other three men, hired swords, perhaps once of the Caste of Warriors, laughed at the frantic efforts of the tiny, sniveling wad of flesh to free itself.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 11


There were few girls with her wind and stamina, her strength and vitality, few who could run at the stirrup of a Warrior as well as she.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 45


I flipped one of the thongs about her wrists, then again, then turned a double opposite overhand, with a twist following the first overhand.
"My," she said, wiggling her wrists, "you tied that quickly."
I did not tell her, of course, but Warriors are trained to tie that knot, and most can do it in less than three Ihn.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 82


The Warriors who flanked the Administrator and High Initiate, incidentally, were Taurentians, members of the palace guard, an elite corps of swordsmen and bowmen, carefully selected, specially trained, independent of the general military organizations of the city. Their leader, or Captain, was Saphronicus, a mercenary from Tyros. I could see him a few feet behind the throne, wrapped in a scarlet cloak, a tall, spare man, long-armed and narrow-faced, whose head moved restlessly, surveying the crowd.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 140


We walked through the dark streets of Ar, and though such was perhaps dangerous, none approached us, though some who passed did so with circumspection, their weapons drawn. I expect the fact that I walked as a Warrior, a sword at my side, perhaps dissuaded individuals who might otherwise have attempted to cut a purse or threaten a throat were they not rewarded for leniency. There are few on Gor who will take their lives into their hands by confronting a Gorean Warrior.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Pages 168 - 169


The belt dance is performed with a Warrior. She now writhed on the furs at his feet, moving as though being struck with a whip. A white silken cord had been knotted about her waist; in this cord was thrust a narrow rectangle of white silk, perhaps about two feet long. About her throat, close-fitting and snug, there was a white-enameled collar, a lock collar.
. . .
The dance receives its name from the fact that the girl's head is not supposed to rise above the Warrior's belt, but only purists concern themselves with such niceties; wherever the dance is performed, however, it is imperative that the girl never rise to her feet.
. . .
The music now became a moan of surrender, and the girl was on her knees, her head down, her hands on the ankle of the Warrior, his sandal lost in the unbound darkness of her hair, her lips to his foot.
. . .
Under the torchlight Phyllis Robertson was now on her knees, the Warrior at her side, holding her behind the small of the back. Her head went farther back, as her hands moved on the arms of the Warrior, as though once to press him away, and then again to draw him closer, and her head then touched the furs, her body a cruel, helpless bow in his hands, and then, her head down, it seemed she struggled and her body straightened itself until she lay, save for her head and heels, on his hands clasped behind her back, her arms extended over her head to the fur behind her. At this point, with a clash of cymbals, both dancers remained immobile. Then, after this instant of silence under the torches, the music struck the final note, with a mighty and jarring clash of cymbals, and the Warrior had lowered her to the furs and her lips, arms about his neck, sought his with eagerness. Then, both dancers broke apart and the male stepped back, and Phyllis now stood, alone on the furs, sweating, breathing deeply, head down.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Pages 185 - 187


I do not choose to describe the nature of the games, except in certain general detail. There seems to me little of beauty in them and much of blood. Matches are arranged between single armed fighters, or teams of such. Generally Warriors do not participate in these matches, but men of low caste, slaves, condemned criminals and such. Some of them, however, are quite skillful with the weapons of their choice, surely the equal of many Warriors.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 189


For example, the Pleasure Slave, if she is trained by a good house, must also be the master of those duties commonly assigned to Tower Slaves. Accordingly, they must know how to cut and sew cloth, to wash garments and clean various types of materials and surfaces, and to cook an extensive variety of foods, from the rough fare of Warriors to concoctions which are exotic almost to the point of being inedible.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 204


Further, because of his services to the state, including the sponsorship of games and races, Cernus was, upon the petition of Saphronicus, Captain of the Taurentians, invested in the scarlet of the Warrior, thus honoring him with High Caste. He did not, of course, give up the House of Cernus nor any other of his widely ranging interests in Ar and beyond it. I do not suppose the Hinrabian Administrator much cared to approve this raising of caste in the case of Cernus, but he lacked the courage to go against the wishes of the Taurentians, and of the city generally. The High Council, with scarcely a murmur, agreed to the investiture. That he was now of the Caste of Warriors did not change much with Cernus, of course, save that a strip of red silk, with those of blue and yellow, now adorned his left sleeve.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Pages 210 - 211


It perhaps need only be added that now being a Warrior, and thus of High Caste, he was now eligible for a seat on the High Council of the city, and even for the throne itself, whether it be that of Administrator or Ubar. Cernus celebrated his investiture by sponsoring the first games and races of the new season, which began in En'Kara.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 211


Once in a Paga tavern I heard a man, whom I recognized to be one of the guards from the iron pens, though now in the tunic of a Leather Worker, declaring that the city needed for its Administrator not a Builder but a Warrior, that law would again prevail.
"But what Warrior?" inquired a fellow at the table, a silversmith.
"Cernus, of the House of Cernus," said the disguised guard, "is a Warrior."
"He is a Slaver," said one.
"He knows the business and needs of Ar," said the guard, "as would a Merchant, but he is yet of the Caste of Warriors."
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 231


In thinking about this I realized what a brave man Caprus was, and how little I had respected his courage and his work. He had risked much, probably much more than I. I felt ashamed. He was only a Scribe, and yet what he had done had taken great courage, probably more courage than that possessed by many Warriors.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 237


I struck my shoulder on the back of the cart and the booted foot of a Warrior thrust me from the cart and I fell to my knees on the stones;
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 284


"Since I am Ubar of Ar," said Cernus. to me, "and of the Caste of Warriors -"
There was mirth at the tables, but a look from Cernus silenced it in a moment.
"I am concerned," continued Cernus, "to be fair in all matters and thus propose that we wager for your freedom."
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Pages 317 - 318


"Surely the famed Tarl Cabot, master swordsman of Gor," said Vancius, "prefers to die with blade in hand."
"Remove my manacles," said I, "and blade or no, let me give response as might a Warrior."
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 333


I, Tarl Cabot, am a simple man, poor in many qualities, one who is doubtless much excelled. There is little, I suspect, that I could do better than many others. I am a man who is surely next to nothing, one unworthy of note. Yet I think there is one talent I have, though it is unimportant and unworthy, a gift toward which I have mixed feelings, a gift which is both boon and curse, one which has caused me feelings of horror and guilt, and yet to which I have owed my life and that of those I have loved. It is a gift I have sought not to exercise, a gift I have feared, and sometimes would put aside, but cannot do so. He who is a Singer must sing; he who weaves the beautiful rugs of Ar or Tor must weave; the Physician must heal; the Builder build; the Merchant buy and sell; and the Warrior must fight.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Pages 340 - 341


Murmillius lifted his blade to me. It was the salute of a Warrior. A Warrior, I thought to myself, he is of the Warriors. I returned the salute.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 349


I suspect, however, that the truest reason is that tarnsmen, never having learned respect for the small bow, tend to despise such a weapon, regarding it as unworthy a Warrior's hand, as being too puny and ineffective to win the approval of a true Gorean fighting man.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 366


In the central cylinder of Ar, that in which the Ubar has his palace and holds his court, in a room assigned to me, I drew upon my body the tunic of a Warrior.
It was fresh and clean, bright scarlet, pressed with hot, round irons warmed over fires. I buckled about my waist the belt and scabbard. They were of new leather, black and shining, with embossings of brass. But it was my old sword, the fine, familiar steel, remembered even from the siege of Ar, many years before, that I dropped into the scabbard. Sitting on the edge of the stone couch I bent down to tie my sandals.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 388


I looked boldly upon her, for a Warrior does not avert his eyes from the beauty of a woman, particularly that of a mere slave.
Assassin of Gor     Book 5     Page 408


The bow is not commonly favored by Gorean warriors, but all must respect it. It is the height of a tall man; its back, away from the bowman, is flat; its belly, facing the bowman, is half-rounded; it is something like an inch and a half wide and an inch and a quarter thick at the center; it has considerable force and requires considerable strength to draw; many men, incidentally, even some warriors, cannot draw the bow;
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 2 (Gorean long bow)


Gorean warriors, generally drawn from the cities, are warriors by blood, by caste; moreover, they are High Caste;
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 3


Further, the heavy, bronze-headed spear and the short, double-edged steel sword are traditionally regarded as the worthy, and prime, weapons of the Gorean fighting man, he at least who is a true fighting man; and, similarly traditionally, archers, who slay from a distance, not coming to grips with their enemy, with their almost invisible, swiftly moving shafts of wood, those mere splinters, are regarded as being rather contemptible, almost on the periphery of warriorhood; villains in Gorean epics, incidentally, when not of small and despised castes, are likely to be archers; I had heard warriors say that they would rather be poisoned by a woman than slain by an arrow.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 4


"The teeth of the tharlarion," said he, "are swift, Warrior."
"I know," I said.
"If you wish," said he, "we will slay you first."
"I," I said, "I do not want to die."
I lowered my head, burning with shame. In my eyes in that moment it seemed I had lost myself, that my codes had been betrayed, Ko-ro-ba my city dishonored, even the blade I had carried soiled. I could not look Ho-Hak again in the eyes. In their eyes, and in mine, I could now be nothing, only slave.
"I had thought the better of you," said Ho-Hak. "I had thought you were of the warriors."
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 24


I had been a warrior of Ko-ro-ba.
Then on an island of rence in the delta of the Vosk I had learned myself, that I was, in the core of myself, ignoble and craven, worthless and fearing, only coward.
I had been a warrior of Ko-ro-ba.
Now I was only a girl's slave.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 35


I was out of the hut.
My response had been instantaneous, that of the trained warrior, startling me.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 50


Another warrior approached her from behind, with a whip, and with four fierce strokes had cut the rence tunic from her body and she knelt on the rence matting that was the surface of the island, crying out in pain, begging to be bound.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 52


From time to time a warrior would add further booty to this catch, dragging or throwing his capture rudely among the others. These rencers were guarded by two warriors with drawn swords. A scribe stood by with a tally sheet, marking the number of captures by each warrior.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 54


Suddenly in the darkness before me there reared up a warrior of Port Kar. He struck down at me with the double-edged sword. Had he known I was a warrior he might not have used his blade improperly. I caught his wrist, breaking it. He howled with pain. I seized up his sword. Another man thrust at me with a spear. I took it my left hand and jerked him forward, at the same time moving my blade in a swift, easy arc, transversely and slightly upward, towards him. It passed through his throat, returning me to the on-guard position. He fell to the matting, his helmet rolling, lost in his own blood. It is an elementary stroke, one of the first taught a warrior.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 55


I, Tarl Cabot, hating myself, no longer respected or trusted human beings. I had done what I had done that day for the sake of a child, one who had once been kind to me, but who no longer existed. I knew myself for one who had chosen ignominious slavery over the freedom of honorable death. I knew myself as coward. I had betrayed my codes. I had tasted humiliation and degradation, and most at my own hands, for I had been most by myself betrayed. I could no longer see myself as I had been. I had been a boy and now I had come to the seeings of manhood, and found within myself, disgusting me, something capable of cowardice, self-indulgence, selfishness, and cruelty. I was no longer worthy of the red of the warrior, no longer worthy of serving the Home Stone of my city, Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning; it seemed - to me then that there were only winds and strengths, and the motions of bodies, the falling of rain, the movements of bacilli, the beating of hearts and the stopping of such beatings. I found myself alone.
And then, hearing still the cries, the alarms in the nigh, I fell asleep. My last thought before the sweet darkness of sleep was the remembrance that I was one who had chosen ignominious slavery to the freedom of honorable death, and that I was alone.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Pages 76 - 77


I did place over my features the curved helmet, with its "Y"-like opening, of the Gorean warrior.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 78


I wore the heavy Gorean helmet, concealing my features. None recognized the warrior who walked among them. The helmet bore no insignia. Its crest plate was empty.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 82


I knew, in my heart, that it had been I, I myself, who had betrayed me, I who had fallen short of the warrior codes, I who had dishonored my own Home Stone, and the blade I bore.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 86


He lay there on his back, blood moving from his mouth, the chest of his tunic scarlet, fighting for breath I looked down on him. I had been of the warriors, I knew he would not live long.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 122


There was some polite striking of the left shoulder with the right hand in the room, which is a common Gorean applause, though not of the warriors, who clash weapons.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 177


I moved the blade toward the boy and he parried it. I was impressed, for I had intended to touch him that time.
Then, moving about, on the pitching deck, in the sleet, we matched blades. After an Ehn or two I replaced my blade in its sheath. "At four times," I said, "I could have killed you."
He dropped his blade, and looked at me agonized.
"But," I said, "you have learned your lessons well. I have fought with warriors who were less swift than you."
He grinned. Some of the seamen pounded their left shoulders with their right fists.
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Pages 282 - 283


"You chose," said Samos, "as warriors have it, ignominious bondage over the freedom of honorable death."
There were tears in my eyes. "I dishonored my sword, my city. I betrayed my codes."
"You found your humanity," said Samos.
"I betrayed my codes!" I cried.
"It is only in such moments," said Samos, "that a man sometimes learns that all truth and all reality is not written in one's own codes."
Raiders of Gor     Book 6     Page 310


Tarnsmen, riders of the great tarns, called Brothers of the Wind, are masters of the open sky, fierce warriors whose battleground is the clouds and sky; they are not forest people; they do not care to stalk and hunt where, from the darkness of trees, from a canopy of foliage, they may meet suddenly, unexpectedly, a quarrel from the crossbow of an invisible assailant.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 63


I had seen no tarnsmen. They were wild men, of the caste of warriors, who spent much of their time in the taverns of Laura, fighting and gambling and drinking, while slave girls, excited and with shining eyes, served them and pressed about them, begging to be noticed and ordered to the alcoves. It was no wonder that some men, even warriors, hated and envied the arrogant, regal tarnsmen, one night rich, the next impoverished, always at the elbow of adventure, and war and pleasure, wearing their pride and their manhood in their walk, in the steel at their side and the look in their eyes.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 92


Rask of Treve, it was said, like many Gorean warriors, preferred free women, enjoying the delicious agonies of his prey, as he reduced them to the utterness of the surrendered female slave.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 192


Over the coals, on a tripod, there was, warming, a small metal wine bowl. Warriors of Treve, I had heard, had a fondness for warm wines.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 274


I heard hands striking the left shoulder in Gorean applause. Among the warriors, the flat of sword blades and the blades of spears rang on shields.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 284


Many of the girls ran to individual warriors, their eyes shining, leaping up and seizing the stirrups, pulling themselves up and putting their cheeks against their soft leather boots.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 291


"I am of the warriors," he told me, "which is a high caste. I have been educated in the second knowledge, so I know of your world. Your accent marked you as barbarian."
I looked up at him.
"I know you are of the world which you call Earth," he said.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 334


I looked into his eyes, and then, helplessly, thrust down my head. My entire body began to tremble, uncontrollably.
Never had I seen such eyes, terrible and dark, keen, those of a warrior.
Captive of Gor     Book 7     Page 335


I am an admirer of skills, of efficiencies of various sorts. I admire the skill of the leather worker with his needle, that of the potter's strong hands, that of the vintner with his wines, that of warriors with their weapons.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 47


"Patience, too," said Rim, "is a characteristic of players of the Game, and of certain warriors."
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 96


I waited, as a Gorean warrior waits.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 111


Goreans care for their world. They love the sky, the plains, the sea, the rain in the summer, the snow in winter. They will sometimes stand and watch clouds. The movement of grass in the wind is very beautiful to them. More than one Gorean poet has sung of the leaf of a Tur tree. I have known warriors who cared for the beauty of small flowers.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 119


"His hand on the hilt of his sword," said Mira, "and his other hand on the medallion of Ar, his daughter was disowned."
I gasped, stunned.
"Yes," laughed Verna, "according to the codes of the warriors and by the rites of the city of Ar, no longer is Talena kin or daughter of Marlenus of Ar."
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 131


The warriors of Ar were among the best on Gor.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 187


There are various warrior strategies. One is to first slay the leader. Another is to reduce him to helplessness and impotency before his men. I elected the second.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 193


I approached her with the stealth of a warrior.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 228


I thrust the heavy wadding deep in her mouth. She could utter not the smallest sound. As my right hand did this the loop of panther skin, twisted in its center, fell from my hand across her face. Swiftly, the twisted part deeply between her teeth, I knotted it with a warrior's tightness behind the back of her neck. The wadding would not slip. I then turned her on her stomach and bound her wrists behind her back.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 229


Mira, blindfolded, helpless, threw back her head in terror. It would have been the scream of a bound slave, naked, staked out for sleen. But there was no sound for she had been gagged by a warrior.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 232


I wore green, now black in the darkness, and moved with stealth, as a warrior moves who hunts men, mixing with the shadows, one darkness among others, a movement and a silence.
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Page 250


"Long ago," I said, "I dishonored my caste, my Home Stone, my blade. Long ago, I fell from the warriors. Long ago, I lost my honor."
Sarus slowly drew his blade, as did those behind him.
"But once," I said, "I was of the city of Ko-ro-ba. That must not be forgotten. That cannot be taken from me"
"He is mad," said one of the men of Tyros.
"Yes," I said, "once long ago, in the delta of the Vosk, I lost my honor. I know that never can I find it again. That honor, which was to me my most precious possession, was lost. It is gone, and gone forever. It is like a tarn with wings of gold, that sits but once upon a warrior's helm, and when it departs, it returns no more. It is gone, and gone forever." I looked at them, and looked, too, upward at the stars of the Gorean night. They were beautiful, like points of fire, marking the camps of armies in the night. "Yes," I said, again regarding the men of Tyros, "I have lost my honor, but you must not understand by that that I have forgotten it. On some nights, on such a night as this, sometimes, I recollect it."
Hunters of Gor     Book 8     Pages 275 - 276


In the codes of the warriors, there is a saying, "Be strong, and do as you will. The swords of others will set your limits."
. . .
"Within the circle of each man's sword," say the codes of the warrior, "therein is each man a Ubar"
"Steel is the coinage of the warrior," say the codes, "With it he purchases what pleases him"
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 10


"I would not have thought Sarus of Tyros would have used poisoned steel," I said. Such a device, like the poisoned arrow, was not only against the codes of the warriors, but, generally, was regarded as unworthy of men. Poison was regarded as a woman's weapon.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 18


The warrior of Torvaldsland looked at me, startled. His eyes widened. At his throat was then point of the sword of Port Kar.
Weapons are not to be carried in the temple of Priest-Kings but I had been taught, long ago, by Kamchak of the Tuchuks, at a banquet in Turia, that where weapons may not be carried, it is well to carry weapons.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 41


The people in the temple, many of them splattered with the blood of their neighbors, some severely wounded, threw themselves, shuddering, man and woman, and child, to their stomachs. They lay among many of their own dead.
I myself did not lie with them. Once I had been of the warriors.
I stood.
The men of Torvaldsland turned to face me.
"Why do you not lie beneath the ax, Stranger?" called out Forkbeard.
"I am not weary," I told him.
Forkbeard laughed. "It is a good reason," he said. "Are you of Torvaldsland?"
"No," I told him.
"You are of the warriors?" asked Forkbeard.
"Perhaps once," I told him.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Pages 42 - 43


About the edges of the hall hung the shields of warriors, with their weapons. Even those who sat commonly at the center tables, and were warriors, kept their shields and spears at the wall. At night, each man would sleep in his furs behind the tables, under his weapons.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 187


He sat down, with his back against a rock. I, too, sat down, crosslegged, as a warrior sits.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 215


Ivar, like many of those in the north, was a passable reader, but took care to conceal this fact. He belonged to the class of men who could hire their reading done for them, much as he could buy thralls to do his farming. It was not regarded as dignified for a warrior to be too expert with letters, such being a task beneath warriors. To have a scribe's skills would tend to embarrass a man of arms, and tend to lower his prestige among his peers. Many of the north, then, were rather proud of their illiteracy, or semi-illiteracy. It was expected of them. It honored them. His tools were not the pen and parchment, but the sword, the bow, the ax and spear.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 231


It is nothing for a warrior to cover ninety pasangs on foot in a day. This is usually done by alternating the warrior's pace with the warrior's stride, and allowing for periods of rest. Few who have been invested in the scarlet of the warriors cannot match this accomplishment. I, and many others, can considerably improve upon it.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Page 241


"We of Tyros are warriors and we do not deal in poisons. Upon my return to Tyros, Sullius inquired if our foes had been wounded, and I informed him that indeed we had struck you, drawing blood. His laughter, as if demented, he turning away, alarmed me. I forced the truth from him. I was in agony. It was to you that my men and myself, those who survived, owed their lives. Marlenus would have carried us to Ar for mutilation and public impalement. You were magnanimous, honoring us as warriors and sword brothers. I demanded an antidote. Laughing, Sullius Maximus, adjusting his cloak, informed me that there was none. I determined to slay him, and then take ship to Port Kar, that you might then, if you chose, cut my throat with your own hands. When my blade lay at the heart of the poisoner Chenbar, my Ubar, aroused by his weeping, bade me desist. Swiftly did I inform my Ubar of the shame that Sullius Maximus had wrought upon the Ubarate. 'I have ridded you of an enemy!' cried Sullius. 'Be grateful! Reward me!' 'Poison,' said Chenbar, 'is the weapon of women, not warriors. You have dishonored me!'
. . .
He removed a vial from his pouch. It contained a purplish fluid.
. . .
I took it. "There is, I discover, attendant upon its assimilation," said Sarus of Tyros, "delirium and fever, but, in the end, the body finds itself freed of both poison and antidote. I give it to you, Bosk of Port Kar, and with it the apologies of my Ubar, Chenbar, and those of myself, a seaman in his service."
"I am surprised," I said, "that Chenbar, the Sea Sleen, is so solicitous of my welfare."
Sarus laughed. "He is not solicitous of your welfare, Warrior. He is solicitous, rather, of the honor of Tyros.
Marauders of Gor     Book 9     Pages 283 - 285


The caravan kaiila, incidentally, both those which are pack animals and those used as mounts for guards and warriors, are muchly belled.
. . .
The kaiila of raiders, incidentally, are never belled.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Page 22


I looked about myself, from time to time, as a warrior does. Seldom does he move any great distance without turning to see what is behind him.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Page 46


At that instant, buffeting guards aside, sending them sprawling, to our amazement, in the carved, turret-shaped portal of the great room, claws scratching on the tiles, appeared a war kaiila, in full trappings, mounted by a veiled warrior in swirling burnoose. Guards rushed forward. His scimitar leapt from its sheath and they fell back, bleeding, reeling to the tiles.
He trust his scimitar back in his sheath. He threw back his head and laughed, and then tore down the veil, that we might look on his face. He grinned at us.
"It is the bandit, Hassan!" cried a guard.
I drew my scimitar and stood between him and Suleiman.
The kaiila pranced. The man uncoiled a long desert whip from his saddle.
"I come for a slave," he said.
The long blade of the whip lashed forth. Alyena, her head back, cried out with pain. Four coils of the whip, biting into her, lashing, snapped tight about her waist. He yanked her, stumbling, the prisoner of his whip, to the side of his kaiila. By the hair he yanked her across his saddle.
He lifted his hand to us. "Farewell!" he cried. "And my thanks!" He then spun the kaiila and, as guards swarmed after him, to our astonishment, leapt the kaiila, catlike, between pillars, through one of the great arched windows of the palace room.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Pages 109 - 110


Instantly was his scimitar unsheathed, the reflex of a desert warrior.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Pages 119


We stood within a ring of mounted warriors, with purple and yellow burnooses, others behind them in more common desert garb.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Page 187


She struggled. She had, of course, been bound by a warrior. She was helpless.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Page 202


"You are of the Warriors," he said.
"It is true," I said. Never had I been divested of the scarlet. Let who would, with steel, dispute my caste with me.
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Page 218


"You are of the Warriors," said he. "You have their stupidity, their grit, their courage."
Tribesmen of Gor     Book 10     Page 227


I tried to free my hands. They had been tied by a warrior. I was helpless.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 84


In taking companionship with one of the Warriors she would raise caste, for the Warriors on Gor are among the high castes, of which there are five, the Initiates, Scribes, Physicians, Builders and Warriors.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Pages 113 - 114


Sword loyalty is a bond of fidelity sworn to the Ubar. Gorean warriors seldom break this bond. It is not sworn lightly.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 114


Surreptitiously, for I did not wish to be struck or again kicked, I tried to move my wrists and ankles. It was useless. Thongs had been used, not rope; the knots, simple and efficient, had been made by a warrior. With a minimum of means I was held with absolute perfection. A Gorean warrior had bound me.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 126


"Let us continue the hunt." "Very well," said the other. Warriors, I thought, would not have lost a girl in such a fashion. Girls do not escape warriors.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 167


"You fear the persuasions of the morrow?" inquired Borchoff.
"No," said the prisoner, "but there is a time and a place for speaking, as there is a time and a place for steel."
"It is a saying of the warriors," said Borchoff.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 269


Rask of Treve lifted his hand to him, in a salute of warriors.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 279


"The vengeance of a warrior," said he, "you will learn, little slut of a slave, is not a light thing."
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 373


It is not unusual among warriors to bestow beautiful slave girls as rewards for good service or valor. Slave girls make lovely gifts.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 412


"There is a fellowship among Warriors," he said.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 421


"It is strange," he said, "I have faced wild sleen and the steel of fierce enemies. I am a warrior, and am high among warriors. Yet you, a mere girl, would conquer me with a smile and a tear."
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 424


At the height of the center aisle, high, framed in the portal of the market hall, stood a warrior, in full panoply of war. He did not speak. He carried shield and spear. On his left shoulder hung the scabbard of the short sword. He was helmeted.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 435


Clitus Vitellius stood straight on that great platform, his great, circular shield on his left arm, his mighty spear, seven feet in length, headed in tapering bronze, grasped in his right hand. His head was high, his eyes were shrewd and clear, those of a warrior.
Slave Girl of Gor     Book 11     Page 436


I laughed, the laugh of a warrior.
"Come my friend," I called to it, "let us engage."
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 13


"I followed you," she said, "in the crowds."
"I know," I said. I had known this, for I was of the warriors.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 48


It was then that I heard the scream, a man's scream. I knew the sound for I was of the warriors. Steel, unexpectedly and deeply, had entered a human body.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 101


"That you were not killed by one of the skill of the assailant," I said, "makes clear to a warrior's eye that you were not intended to die.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 106

"Stand aside," said the free woman.

I inclined my head. "Very well, Lady," said I. I moved to one side.

"I deem myself to have been insulted," she said.

"Forgive me, Lady," said I, "but such was not my intent. If I have done or said aught to convey that impression, however minutely, I extend to you now the deepest and most profound of apologies and regrets."

I stepped back further, to permit the retinue to pass.

"I should have you beaten," she said.

"I have greeted you in peace and friendship," I said. I spoke quietly.

"Beat him," she said.

I caught the arm of the captain. His face turned white. "Have you raised your arm against me?" I asked.

I released his arm, and he staggered back. Then he slung his shield on his arm, and unsheathed the blade slung at his left hip.

"What is going on!" demanded the woman.

"Be silent, foolish woman," said the captain.

She cried out with rage. But what did she know of the codes?

I met his attack, turning it, and he fell, shield loose, at my feet. I had not chosen to kill him.

"Aiii!" cried one of the draft slaves.

"Kill him! Kill him!" cried the free woman. The slave girls screamed.

Men shouted with rage.

"Who is next?" I asked.

They looked at one another.

"Help me," said the captain. Two of the men went to him and lifted him, bleeding, to his feet. He looked at me, held between his men.

I stood ready.

He looked at me, and grinned. "You did not kill me," he said.

I shrugged.

"I am grateful," he said.

I inclined my head.

"Too," said he, "I know the skills of my men. They are not poor warriors, you understand."

"I am sure they are not," I said.

"I do not choose to spend them," he said. He looked at me. "You are a tarnsman," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"I thought it would be so," he said. He looked at me. "I give you greetings of the caste of warriors," he said.

"Tal," said I.

"Tal," said he.

"Kill him!" cried the free woman. "Kill him!"

"You have wronged this man," said the captain. "And he has labored within the permissions of his codes."

"I order you to kill him!" cried the free woman, pointing to me.

"Will you permit us to pass, Warrior?" asked the captain.

"I am afraid, under the circumstances," I said, "that is no longer possible."

He nodded. "Of course not," he said.

"Kill him!" cried the free woman.

"We are six now who can fight," said the captain. "It is true that we might kill him. I do not know. But never have I crossed swords with one such as he. There is a swiftness, a sorcery, a savageness in his steel which in a hundred fights to the death I have never encountered. And yet I now stand alive beside your chair to explain this to you, who are incapable of understanding it."

"He is outnumbered," she pointed out.

"How many will he kill?" asked the captain.

"None, of course!" she cried.

"I have crossed steel with him, Lady," said the captain. "Do not explain to me the nature of swordplay and odds." He looked to his men. "Do you wish to fall upon him, Lads?" he asked, smiling wryly.

"Command us, and we shall attack," said one of the men.

I thought their discipline good.

The captain shook his head ruefully. "I have crossed steel with him, Lads," said he. "We shall withdraw."

"No!" screamed the free woman.

The captain turned, supported by two men.

"Cowards!" she cried.

The captain turned to face her. "I am not a coward, Lady," said he. "But neither am I a fool."

"Cowards!" she cried.

"Before I send men against one such as he," said the officer, "it will be to defend a Home Stone."

"Coward! Cowards!" she screamed.

"I have crossed steel with him," said the captain. He then, held between his men, withdrew. More than one of them cast glances at me over their shoulder. But none, I think, wished to return to do contest.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Pages 114 - 116


Little love is lost betwixt the castes of warriors and assassins. Each deems himself the superior of, and the natural foe, of the other. The sword of the warrior, commonly, is pledged to a Home Stone, that of the assassin to gold and the knife.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 136


"It was clear quite early," she said, "that you were no common ruffian from the docks of Lydius." She sifted golden tarn disks through her fingers. She drew forth the blade from the sheath. "I am told," said she, "this is a finely tempered blade, keen, subtly balanced, the weapon of one who is of the warriors."
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 143


"How do I know you will let us leave, if we leave now, in peace?" he asked.
"I have pledged it." I said. "And I am of the warriors."
"How do we know you are of the warriors?" he asked.
"Send forth your best swordsman," I said, "that my caste may be made clear to you."
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 172


I, too, from time to time, looked back. This was not only to consider the terrain as it might appear on a return journey, something I had learned from Imnak, but for another reason as well, one held in common by warriors and red hunters. It is well to see what might come behind one.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 322

"Let us flee, Master," wept Arlene.

"I am of the Warriors," I told her.

"But such things," she said, "control even the forces of nature."

"Perhaps so, perhaps not," I said. "I do not know."

"Flee!" she said.

"I am of the Warriors," I said.

"But you may die," she said.

"That is acknowledged in the codes," I said.

"What are the codes?" she asked.

"They are nothing, and everything," I said. "They are a bit of noise, and the steel of the heart. They are meaningless, and all significant. They are the difference. Without the codes men would be Kurii."

"Kurii?" she asked.

"Beasts, such as ice beasts, and worse," I said. "Beasts such as the face you saw in the sky."

"You need not keep the codes," she said.

"I once betrayed my codes," I said. "It is not my intention to do so again." I looked at her. "One does not know, truly, what it is to stand, until one has fallen. Once one has fallen, then one knows, you see, what it is to stand."

"None would know if you betrayed the codes," she said.

"I would know," I said, "and I am of the Warriors."

"What is it to be a warrior?" she asked.

"It is to keep the codes," I said. "You may think that to be a warrior is to be large, or strong, and to be skilled with weapons, to have a blade at your hip, to know the grasp of the spear, to wear the scarlet, to know the fitting of the iron helm upon one's countenance, but these things are not truly needful; they are not, truly, what makes one man a warrior and another not. Many men are strong, and large, and skilled with weapons. Any man might, if he dared, don the scarlet and gird himself with weapons. Any man might place upon his brow the helm of iron. But it is not the scarlet, not the steel, not the helm of iron which makes the warrior."

She looked up at me.

"It is the codes," I said.

"Abandon your codes," she said.

"One does not speak to a slave of the codes," I said.

"Abandon them," she said.

"Kneel, Slave Girl," I said.

She looked at me, frightened, and swiftly knelt in the snow, in the moonlight, before me. She looked up at me. "Forgive me, Master," she said. "Please do not kill me!"
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Pages 340 - 341


"I see you wear the scarlet of the warrior," he said. It was true. I had awakened in the tunic of my caste.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 347


"I am of the Warriors," I said. "I will take by the sword what women please me."
"Of course," he said. He continued to look at Arlene, who put her head down, trembling.
"Too," I said, "it is my intention to keep by the sword what women should please me. I gestured to Arlene. "This one," I said, "at the moment pleases me."
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 348


I sat in the middle of the cell, cross-legged, in the position of the warrior.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 349


Warriors are trained in acute observation and retention. The recognition and comprehension of a detail, sometimes subtle, can sometimes make a difference between life and death.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Pages 351 - 352


I was faster than Ram but his quickness was unusual, even among warriors. I would have been pleased to have had him serve with me. There was now no doubt in my mind but what, before his exile in Teletus, despite his asseverations to the contrary, his tunic had been of scarlet.
"Well done, Warrior," I called to him. He lifted his blade to me, in salute.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 357

"There is perhaps poison on your blade?" I said.

"My caste does not make use of poison," he said.

I then decided that it would not be easy to agitate him, perhaps impairing his timing, or making him behave in a hasty manner, too zealous for a quick kill.

"Fight," said the man at the side of the ring.

We met in the center of the ring. Our blades touched and parried.

"I received my early training in the city of Ko-ro-ba," I said.

Our blades touched one another.

"What is your Home Stone?" I asked.

"Do you think I am fool enough to talk with you?" he snarled.

"Assassins, as I recall," I said, "have no Home Stones. I suppose that is a drawback to caste membership, but if you did have Home Stones, it might be difficult to take fees on one whose Home Stone you shared."

I moved his blade aside.

"You are faster than I thought," I said.

Our blades swiftly met, a moment of testing. Then we stepped back, retaining our guard position.

"Some think the caste of assassins performs a service," I said, "but I find this difficult to take seriously. I suppose they could be hired in the service of justice, but it seems they could be as easily hired in the service of anything." I looked at him. "Do you fellows have any principles?" I asked.

He moved in, swiftly, too swiftly. I did not take advantage of it.

"Apparently staying alive is not one of them," I said.

He stepped back, startled.

"You were open there for a moment," I said. He knew it and I knew it, but I was not sure those in the tiers knew it. It is sometimes difficult to see these things from certain angles.

There were jeers from the tiered benches. They did not believe what I said.

I now stalked Drusus. He kept a close guard, covering himself well. It is hard to strike a man who elects defense. He limits himself, of course, in adopting this stratagem.

Now jeers against Drusus came from the benches. He began to sweat.

"Is it true," I asked, "that you, in attaining the black of your caste, once slew your friend?"

I pressed the attack, but in a courteous fashion. He defended himself well.

"What was his name?" I asked.

"Kurnock!" he suddenly cried out, angrily, and rushed toward me.

I sprawled him into the sand at my feet, and my blade was at the back of his neck.

I stepped back.

"Get up," I said. "Now let us fight seriously."
H

e leaped to his feet. I then administered to him, and to those in the tiers, a lesson in the use of the Gorean blade. They sat in silence.

Then, bloodied, Drusus, unsteadily, his sword arm down, wavered before me. He had been cut several times, as I had pleased.
He could no longer lift the blade. Blood ran down his arm, staining the sand.

I looked up to the mirror in the wall, that which I was confident was in actuality a one-way glass. I lifted my sword to that invisible window, in the salute of a Gorean warrior. I then turned again to face Drusus.

"Kill me," he said. "It is twice I have failed my caste."

I lifted the blade to strike him. "I will be swift," I told him.

I poised the steel.

"Let it be thus that an old debt owed to one named Kurnock is repaid," I said.

"That is the first time I failed my caste," said Drusus. I regarded him. "Strike," he said.

"I do not understand," I said.

"I did not kill Kurnock," he said. "He was no match for me. I could not bring myself to kill him."

I handed the sword to the third man on the sand.

"Kill me!" cried Drusus.

"Do you think a warrior can show less mercy than an Assassin?" I asked.

"Kill me," wept Drusus, and then, from the loss of blood, fell into the sand.

"He is too weak to be an assassin," I said. "Remove him."
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Pages 359 - 360


With my left arm about his neck I struck his head to the side with the flat of my right hand. He lay still, the neck broken. It is a thing warriors are taught.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 388


"Between the third and fourth robes," I told her, "there is a sheathed dagger, concealed in the lining. Keep your hands away from it."
"You are observant," she said.
A warrior is trained to look for such things.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 403


"We have failed," said Drusus.
I nodded in agreement. The strange common project of two men, of diverse and antagonistic, yet strangely similar castes, an Assassin and a Warrior, had failed.
"What is now to be done?" he asked.
"We must attempt to reach the chamber of Zarendargar," I said.
"It is hopeless," he said.
"Of course," I said. "But I must attempt it. Are you with me?"
"Of course," he said.
"But you are of the Assassins," I said.
"We are tenacious fellows," he smiled.
"I have heard that," I said.
"Do you think that only Warriors are men?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I have never been of that opinion."
"Let us proceed," he said.
"I thought you were too weak to be an Assassin," I said.
"I was once strong enough to defy the dictates of my caste," he said. "I was once strong enough to spare my friend, though I feared that in doing this I would myself be killed."
"Perhaps you are the strongest of the dark-caste," I said.
He shrugged.
"Let us see who can fight better," I said.
"Our training is superior to yours," he said.
"I doubt that," I said. "But we do not get much training dropping poison into people's drinks."
"Assassins are not permitted poison," he said proudly.
"I know," I said.
"The Assassin," he said, "is like a musician, a surgeon. The Warrior is like a butcher. He is a ravaging, bloodthirsty lout."
"There is much to what you say," I granted him. "But Assassins are such arid fellows. Warriors are more genial, more enthusiastic."
"An Assassin goes in and does his job, and comes out quietly," he said. "Warriors storm buildings and burn towers."
"It is true that I would rather clean up after an Assassin than a Warrior," I said.
"You are not a bad fellow for a Warrior," he said.
"I have known worse Assassins than yourself," I said.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Pages 412 - 413


I sat near him, cross-legged, as a Warrior sits.
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 420


"Yes," she said, "it is a great honor for a girl to be branded by a Warrior, and one who is a Captain."
I shrugged. I supposed, objectively, what she said was true. I was of a high caste, that of the Warriors, and was a captain. A boast among slave girls is "My brand was put upon me by a Warrior." Another is, "I was found beautiful enough for a Warrior to brand!"
Beasts of Gor     Book 12     Page 441


It had not been difficult to detect his approach, even apart from the more obvious clues I had called to his attention. The senses of a warrior are trained. His life may depend on it.
Explorers of Gor     Book 13     Page 48


With a cry of rage Kisu leaped toward me, the shovel swinging toward my head. I blocked the blow and, bringing about the long handle of my own shovel, struck him a heavy blow alongside of the face. It would have staggered a kailiauk. To my amazement he did not go down. I then, smartly, began to deflect and parry blows. One slash or blow of the shovel would have finished me. I thrust him back twice with the handle of the shovel, the second time plunging the handle into his solar plexus. He stopped, paralyzed by the latter blow. But he did not fall. He could not then defend himself. I was breathing heavily. I did not, of course, strike him. That precise point of the body is one of the target areas taught to warriors. Such a blow is usually given with a thrust of the butt of a spear, generally in the crowding of close combat when you cannot bring the weapon about.
Kisu was, I had little doubt, quite similar in strength to myself. He was not, however, a trained warrior.
It was little wonder that he and his forces had been defeated by the askaris of Bila Huruma.
He lifted his head, looking at me in amazement. He did not understand how such a blow could have stopped one of his strength. Then he threw up in the marsh.
Explorers of Gor     Book 13     Pages 247 - 248


"Your eyes have in them the look of one who embarks upon the business of the warrior."
Explorers of Gor     Book 13     Page 418


The Gorean soldier is commonly a professional soldier, usually of the caste of Warriors.
Fighting Slave of Gor     Book 14     Page 180


"No one," said he, "can take the scarlet from me, once it is granted, unless it be by the sword."
Fighting Slave of Gor     Book 14     Page 182



It was only at times like now, when with trusted men, that he sat, and carried himself, and spoke as a warrior. Victoria knew him still as only a fallen man, one defeated, one lax in his caste codes, one inert and whining in traps of his own weaving. They knew him still, as we had decided fit for our plans, as only a sot and a drunkard. They needed not know that he who had fallen had now risen; that once more the codes were kept with pride; that the cords with which he had once, with such pain and skill, bound himself, he had now sundered and torn from him, like an enraged larl emerging fiercely from a net now too frail to hold him longer. He had recalled that he was Callimachus, of the Warriors, one entrusted with steel, one entitled to wear the scarlet of the proud caste. I did not think it likely that he would forget these things again.
Rogue of Gor     Book 15     Pages 227 - 228


"You have my word on it," said Callimachus, "the word of a warrior."
Rogue of Gor     Book 15     Page 267


"You are here," he said, "because you, too, are of the Warriors."
"I am not of the Warriors," I said.
"Not everyone who is of the Warriors knows that he is of the Warriors," said Callimachus.
"I do not understand," I said.
"I have seen it," said Callimachus, "in your eyes, that you are of the Warriors."
"You are mad," I said.
"Ten thousand years ago," he said, "in the mixings of bloods, and in the rapings of conquered maids, the caste has chosen you."
"You are mad," I told him.
"We shall see, shortly," said he.
Rogue of Gor     Book 15     Page 317


Callimachus, near me, lifted and dropped his blade a bit in his scabbard. It was a warrior's gesture. He may not even have been aware that he did it.
Guardsman of Gor   Book 16   Page 96


"Free men fight with weapons," said Miles. "They are not animals."
"Warriors are trained in unarmed combat," I said.
"But only as a last resort, only for emergencies," said Miles.
Guardsmen of Gor     Book 16     Page 246


The small bow has many advantages. High among these is the rapidity with which it may be drawn and fired. A skilled warrior, in the Gorean gravity, can fire ten arrows into the air, the last leaving the bow before the first has returned to the earth.
Savages of Gor     Book 17     Page 46


Within a given tribe the beading, in its arrangements and colors, identifies the particular master. This is a common way, incidentally, for warriors to identify various articles which they own.
Savages of Gor     Book 17     Page 102


"Our friend," said Grunt to me, "is a member of the Blue-Sky Riders, a warrior society of the Fleer."
Savages of Gor     Book 17     Page 260


"The Sun Lances," said Grunt, "a warrior society of the Sleen."
Savages of Gor     Book 17     Page 314


Scouts of the Sleen Soldiers, a warrior society of the Isbu,
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 8


The Kaiila were mostly members of the All Comrades, a warrior society, like the Sleen Soldiers, of the Isbu Kaiila.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 14


Scarlet bands, in number from one to five, are commonly used by Kaiila warriors to mark their weapons, in particular their lances and arrows. To this mark, or marks, then, will be added the personal design, or pattern, of the individual warrior.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 37


"Napoktan," she said.
"The Bracelets band," I said.
"Yes," she said. Their territory lies roughly northwest of the Kaiila River, north of the northern fork of the Kaiila River, and east of the Snake River. Napoktan warriors commonly wear two copper bracelets on the left wrist.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 191


"It is a dance of the Snake Society, a warrior society of the Yellow Knives," said Cuwignaka.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 272


A warrior may secure such women with devices so simple as thumb-cuffs, like tiny, joined rings, and snap-lock, or pronged, tension-closed, nose-rings, with strands of wire, to fasten them together.
The material for securing ten women, in such cases, fits into a corner of the warrior's pack and weighs no more than a few ounces.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 336


I saw more than one Yellow-Knife warrior emerging from a lodge. They, I noted, like warriors of the Kaiila, and of the red savages generally, apparently slept naked.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 393


I looked up at the glorious sky, with its moons and clouds. I began to sing, a warrior song, one from Ko-ro-ba.
Blood Brothers of Gor     Book 18     Page 396


There was laughter. Drusus Rencius clenched his fists. He was a Gorean warrior. He did not take lightly to being mocked and chided in this fashion.
Kajira of Gor     Book 19     Page 369


In other cities, and in most cities, on the other hand, a free woman may, with legal tolerance, submit herself as a slave to a specific man. If he refuses her, she is then still free. If he accepts her, she is then, categorically, a slave, and he may do with her as he pleases, even selling her or giving her away, or slaying her, if he wishes. Here we might note a distinction between laws and codes. In the codes of the warriors, if a warrior accepts a woman as a slave, it is prescribed that, at least for a time, an amount of time up to his discretion, she be spared. If she should be the least bit displeasing, of course, or should prove recalcitrant in even a tiny way, she may be immediately disposed of.
It should be noted that this does not place a legal obligation on the warrior. It has to do, rather, with the proprieties of the codes. If a woman not within a clear context of rights, such as capture rights, house rights, or camp rights, should pronounce herself slave, simpliciter, then she is subject to claim. These claims may be explicit, as in branding, binding and collaring, or as in the uttering of a claimancy formula, such as "I own you," "You are mine," or "You are my slave," or implicit, as in, for example, permitting the slave to feed from your hand or follow you.
Players of Gor     Book 20     Page 21


I jerked my body suddenly to the side, to evade the grasping left arm, seeking to hold the target in place for the short, low right-handed thrust of the knife, or the throat attack, if the assailant was right-handed, and of the assassins or the warriors.
. . .
The knife and arm, however, descending, passed over my body. The high stroke has various disadvantages. It begins from farther back and thus makes it difficult to use the left hand or arm to secure the target. It is easier to block. It does not have the same power as the short blow. The blade that has only six inches to move, with a full weight behind it, other things being equal, effects a deeper penetration than a blade which must move farther and has behind it primarily the weight of a shoulder and arm. Too, of course, the stab from a shorter distance at closer range, point-blank range, so to speak, is likely to be more accurate. The target, after the initiation of the blow, even if it is not held in place, has very little time, given the mathematics of reflexes, to shift its position. My assailant, I gathered, was neither of the assassins or warriors.
Players of Gor     Book 20     Pages 66 - 67


I then turned, and climbed through the broken, serrated edges of this natural stone bowl, found myself in the open fields, and began to run, with the long, slow warrior's pace, that pace in which warriors are trained, that pace which may be maintained, even under the weight of weapons, accouterments and a shield, for pasangs.
Players of Gor     Book 20     Page 284


Dietrich of Tarnburg, of the high city of Tarnburg, some two hundred pasangs to the north and west of Hochburg, both substantially mountain fortresses, both in the more southern and civilized ranges of the Voltai, was well known to the warriors of Gor. His name was almost a legend.
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Page 31


"I am a warrior, and an Alar," said Hurtha, "but it is true that I am fond of songs."
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Page 48


When possible, of course, given considerations of the land, warriors like to have both the sun and the wind at their back. The glare from the sun, even if it is not blinding, can be wearing upon an enemy, particularly if the battle persists for Ahn. The advantages of having the wind at one's back are obvious. It flights one's arrows, increasing their range; it gives additional impetus to one's movements and charges; and whatever dust or debris it might carry is more likely to effect the enemy than oneself.
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Pages 52 - 53


There was nothing in the codes of the warriors, as I recalled, that explicitly demanded resistance to brigands, though perhaps it was presupposed.
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Page 90


"How then can we make some money?" asked Hurtha.
"I suppose we could do some work," I said.
"Work?" asked Hurtha, in horror. He was an Alar warrior. To be sure, manual labor was not exactly prescribed by my own caste codes either.
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Page 105


"Did you march them beneath a yoke?" I asked. This is usually formed of three spears, two upright and the third bound horizontally across the first two. The prisoners are then usually marched in a long line, two abreast, between the uprights. They cannot pass under the horizontal spear, a weapon of their enemy, without lowering their heads and bending their backs. Some warriors choose to die rather than do this.
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Page 152


"I would not have noticed the matter had I not, as a matter of habit, this morning, tested the draw of the blade." This habit, unnecessary and trivial though it may seem, is one inculcated in warriors, in many cities. The theory is not only that it is well to practice the draw frequently, as the first to draw may be the first to strike, but also to be familiar with it on a daily basis lest its parameters alter from time to time, due to such things as contractions and swellings of the leather, these having to do with temperature and moisture. Less obviously, but more deviously, the blade could be tightened, or even fastened, in the sheath by an enemy, by such means as a tiny wooden shim or plug, or a fine wire looped below the hilt. The practicing of the draw, and the associated testing of sheath resistance, is a small, but seldom neglected detail, in the practice of arms.
Mercenaries of Gor     Book 21     Page 239


One man of Tharna, it is said, is a match for ten from most cities. Whereas that is doubtless not true, it is not disputed that Tharnan warriors are among the most dangerous on Gor.
Dancer of Gor     Book 22     Pages 385 - 386


I thought it well to reconnoiter a little. I suppose it is the training of the warrior.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Page 39


He wore his sword, on its strap over the left shoulder. This is common among Gorean warriors, though not on the march nor in tarnflight. In this arrangement the sword may be unsheathed and the scabbard and strap discarded in one movement.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Page 76


I did not raise my eyes but appeared to be concerned with the paga. I heard him make a sound of contempt. I wondered if he noted that my hand closed more tightly upon the base of the kantharos. I should try to control that. I think I myself might have noticed it, in the movement of the upper arm. He stood there, a few feet away. I began to feel insulted. Heat rose in my body. I controlled myself. Surely that is what Dietrich of Tarnburg would have done. I did not look up.
Warriors, of course, are trained to rely upon peripheral vision. If he approached me too closely, coming within a predetermined critical distance, I could dash the paga upward into his eyes and wrench the table up and about, plunging one of the legs into his diaphragm. Then in a moment I could have him under my foot or upon my sword. Some authorities recommend breaking the kantharos into shards on the face, taking the target above the bridge of the nose with the rim. This can be even more dangerous with a metal goblet. Many civilians, I believe, do not know why certain warriors, by habit, request their paga in metal goblets when dining in public houses. They regard it, I suppose, as an eccentricity.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Pages 76 - 77


From the way she held her hands behind her back I could tell that she was in thumb cuffs. These are handy devices. They are light and take up little space in a warrior's pack.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Page 326


In between the assaults we gasped for breath and crouched behind our shields, resting their rims on the walkway. To lift such a device for Ehn at a time, and receive blow after blow upon it, bearing up under them, in time makes the arm desperately tired and sore. It is little wonder warriors often train with weighted shields. In the early Ahn of battle a common cause of casualties, particularly with young warriors, is recklessness, and the failure to use the shield properly to protect oneself.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Page 331


Warriors, it is said in the codes, have a common Home Stone. Its name is battle.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Page 343


We looked at the tall, cylindrical structure which lay on a promontory, at the southwestern most point of the harbor. It was perhaps one hundred and fifty feet high. It tapered upward, and was perhaps some twenty feet in diameter at the top. It was yellow and red, in horizontal sections, the colors of the Builders and Warriors, the Builders the caste that had supervised its construction and the Warriors the caste that maintained its facilities. It was as much a keep as a landmark. At night, in virtue of fires and mirrors, it served as a beacon.
Renegades of Gor     Book 23     Page 411


I myself, like many warriors, terribly enough, I suppose, tend to see war more as the most perilous and exhilarating of sports, a game of warriors and Ubars.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Page 18


But I moved the sword just a bit more from the sheath. A quarter of an inch, where hundredths of an Ihn are involved, can be a considerable advantage. In many situations, warriors discard the scabbard altogether. That is one reason it is often carried on a loop over the left shoulder, that it may be immediately, lest it prove an encumbrance, or present an encircling strap an enemy may seize, the blade drawn, discarded.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Page 25


It was lonely here.
Yet such times are good in the life of a warrior, times to be alone, to think.
He who cannot think is not a man, so saith the codes. Yet neither, too, they continue, is he who can only think.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Page 65


"They may have followed me," said Marcus, bitterly.
"I think it unlikely," I said, "that is, directly. Surely you would have been alert to such surveillance."
"I would have hoped so," he said. It is dangerous to follow a warrior, as it is a larl or sleen. Such, too often, double back. Such, too often, turn the game.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Pages 73 - 74


"Are you of the Warriors?" asked Labienus.
"Yes," I said.
"Hear," said Labienus to his men. "He is of the Warriors."
"He says he is," said a fellow, glumly.
"What is the 97th Aphorism in the Codes?" inquired Labienus.
"My scrolls may not be those of Ar," I said. To be sure, the scrolls should be, at least among the high cities, in virtue of conventions held at the Sardar Fairs, particularly the Fair of En'Kara, much in agreement.
"Will you speak?" asked Labienus.
"Remove the female," I said.
"He is a Warrior," said one of the men.
One of the men lifted the bound Ina in his arms, one hand behind the back of her knees, and the other behind her back, and carried her from where we were gathered. In a few moments he returned.
"The female is now out of earshot?" inquired Labienus, staring ahead.
"Yes," said the fellow, "and she will stay where I left her, on her back, as I tied her hair about the base of a stout shrub."
"The 97th Aphorism in the Codes I was taught," I said, "is in the form of a riddle: "What is invisible but more beautiful than diamonds?"
"And the answer?" inquired Labienus.
"That which is silent but deafens thunder."
The men regarded one another.
"And what is that?" asked Labienus.
"The same," said I, "as that which depresses no scale but is weightier than gold."
"And what is that?" asked Labienus.
"Honor," I said.
"He is of the Warriors," said a man.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Pages 305 - 306


The warrior does not kill himself or aid others in the doing of it. It is not in the codes.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Page 446


"Do you think I keep you because of the gold?" he asked.
"I do not know, Master," she said.
"No," he said. "I do not keep you because of the gold. I am of the scarlet caste. I am of the Warriors. I could cast the gold away, as a gesture."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"To me it is meaningless."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Why then should I keep you?" he asked.
"Perhaps for my utilities as a slave, Master?"
"You need not fear," said he, "that your utilities as a slave will be overlooked."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"But you must be aware," he said, "that such utilities, in a generic sense, may be purchased easily and cheaply, anywhere."
"Of course, Master," she said, tears springing to her eyes.
"Why then should I keep you?" he asked.
"I do not know, Master," she said.
"You are from Cos," he said.
Vagabonds of Gor     Book 24     Page 490


He then, whipping a short length of binding fiber from his pouch, with two simple loops, and a double knot, a warrior's capture knot, tied her hands together.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 33


"You have many of the virtues of the warrior," I said, "but there is yet one you must learn - patience."
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 70


In further defense I might point out that many warriors, for no reason that is clear to me, seem to take pride in a putative lack of literacy. Indeed, several fellows I have known, of the scarlet caste, take pains to conceal their literacy, seemingly ashamed of an expertise in such matters, regarding such as befitting scribes rather than warriors. Thus, somewhat to my embarrassment, I found I fitted in well with such fellows. I have known, incidentally, on the other hand, several warriors who were quite unapologetic about literary interests and capacities, men who were, for example, gifted historians, essayists and poets.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 76


"You have drawn a weapon against me," I said.
"You are of the warriors?" said the fellow. He wavered. He, too, knew the codes.
"Yes," I said.
"And he?" asked the fellow.
"He, too," I said.
"You are not in scarlet," he said.
"True," I said. Did he think that the color of a fellow's garments was what made him a warrior? Surely he must realize that one not of the warriors might affect the scarlet, and that one who wore the grimed gray of a peasant, one barefoot, and armed only with the great staff, might be of the scarlet caste. It is not the uniform which makes the warrior, the soldier.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 129


Too, he was of the Warriors, and his codes, in a situation of this sort, their weapons drawn, entitled him, even encouraged him, to attack, and kill.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 169


"Study the campaigns of Dietrich of Tarnburg," I said.
Marcus shrugged, angrily.
"He has sowed silver and harvested cities," I said.
"'More gates are opened with gold than iron,'" he said.
"You pretend to simplicity," I said. "Yet you quote from the Diaries." These were the field diaries attributed by many to Carl Commenius, of Argentum. The reference would be clear to Marcus, a trained warrior.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 188


"As a warrior," said I, "surely you are aware of the virtues of concealment, of subterfuge."
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 200


"You are members of the caste of slavers!" she said.
"No," I said.
"But you are slavers!" she said.
"Do not concern yourself with the matter," I said.
"Yes Master," she said.
The distinction, of course, is between belonging to the caste of slavers and being a slaver. Whereas members of the caste of slavers are slavers, not all slavers are members of the caste of slavers. For example, I am not of the slavers, but in Port Kar I am known as Bosk, and he known as many things, among them pirate and slaver. Too, both Marcus and myself were of the warriors, the scarlet caste, and as such were not above taking slaves. Such is not only permitted in the codes, but encouraged by them. "The slave is a joy and a convenience to the warrior." Neither of us, of course, was a member of the caste of slavers.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 315


I have known extremely intelligent men on Gor, incidentally, who could not read. Illiteracy, or, more kindly, an inability to read and write, is not taken on Gor as a mark of stupidity. These things tend rather, in many cases, to be associated with the caste structure and cultural traditions. Some warriors, as I have indicated earlier, seem to feel it is somewhat undignified for them to know how to read, or, at least, how to read well, perhaps because that sort of thing is more in the line of, say, the scribes. One hires a warrior for one thing, one hires a scribe for another. One does not expect a scribe to know the sword. Why, then, should one expect the warrior to know the pen?
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Pages 393 - 394


Warriors, in situations of danger, commonly carry the scabbard over the left shoulder. The scabbard is held with the left hand and the draw takes place with the right. The scabbard and strap is then discarded, to be recovered, if practical, later. Obviously the scabbard attached to a belt is not only an encumbrance but it is something which someone else might seize, cling to, and perhaps use to his advantage.
Magicians of Gor     Book 25     Page 395


The high castes are normally accounted five in number - the Warriors, the Builders, the Physicians, the Scribes, and the Initiates. The Initiates are sometimes thought of as the highest of the five high castes, and the Warriors commonly produce the administrators and ubars for a city.
Witness of Gor     Book 26     Page 225


I saw a heavy, bootlike sandal, the sort worn by warriors, which can sustain long marches over stony soils, which provides protection from the slash of course grasses and strike of leech plants, nudge Dorna.
Witness of Gor     Book 26     Page 486


"I am not fond of those of the black caste," said the officer.
"Nor we of those of the scarlet caste," said the leader.
Witness of Gor     Book 26     Page 558


"Honor," I said, "has many voices, and many songs."
He looked down at me startled. "That is a saying of warriors," he said. "It is from the codes.
Witness of Gor     Book 26     Page 711


"Those of the Warriors, or sometimes mercenaries, or outlaws, or raiders, or bandits, whoever mounts, masters and rides tarns."
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Page 153


Not all slave bracelets are pretty, and such, of course. Some are quite plain, and these might be preferred by some men for their slaves, perhaps for reasons of instruction, or economy, or to avoid an appearance of ostentation, or such. Too, warriors, tarnsmen, slavers, and such, might prefer plainer custodial devices for early captures, transportation, simple holding, and so on. Sometimes no more than a string, nose-ring and thumb cuffs are used.
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Page 172


The man's tunic was scarlet, and he wore a sword belt slung across his body, from the right shoulder to the scabbard at his left hip, facilitating the right-handed draw. This belt, and the scabbard, and the crest on his helmet, were yellow. Though this was not known to Ellen at the time, the scarlet denoted the caste of Warriors, one of the five high castes of Gor, the others being the Initiates, Physicians, Builders and Scribes. The yellow was part of the dress uniform of the occupational forces, as a whole, but was common in the Cosian military. In times of danger or imminent conflict, the sword belt is looped simply over the left shoulder, so that it, and the attached scabbard, the blade drawn, may be discarded. This prevents the belt being grasped in combat by an enemy, which might be to the disadvantage of its owner.
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Page 232


Gorean warriors, tarnsmen and such, are not infrequently concerned with the abduction of women from enemy cities. It is not unusual, either in the history of Gor or of Earth, to have the women of the enemy serving one as one's slaves.
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Page 270


"My master is of the Warriors," she said, "but like many of that caste, he has done various works. Many caste members, as you know, do not concern themselves specifically with caste business. He is not now in fee."
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Page 320


Speaking of illiteracy, however, it should be noted that illiteracy is not that uncommon on Gor. For example, many Goreans of low caste are illiterate. Indeed, many seem to regard reading as an accomplishment ill befitting decent, serious folks, an accomplishment more appropriate, at least, to the high castes than to theirs. Interestingly, too, many of the warriors, and that is a high caste, pride themselves on an inability to read, seeing that homely, and somewhat magical, skill, as one not for them, if not actually beneath them. And some who can read pretend to ignorance of the skill.
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Page 397


The "scarlet caste" was a way of referring to the caste of Warriors, the expression being suggested by the usual color of their tunics. Ellen had seen many scarlet tunics in Ar, mostly those of mercenaries and Cosian regulars. As Portus Canio had referred to Bosk of Port Kar and Marcus, of Ar's Station, as friends of the "scarlet caste," they must be then, thought Ellen, of the Warriors. She had, of course, suspected as much earlier. They were large and powerful, and had the look about them of men not unaccustomed to look upon war, men not unfamiliar with the darker uses of steel. They were not, however, now in the scarlet of their caste, but wore simple brown tunics. In a sense, she supposed, they were incognito. Doubtless that was wise in a Cosian camp, if they were not of Cos, even though the camp was in theory an open camp. To be sure, in raids, in battle, red is not always worn. Much depends, as would be expected, on the terrain, the situation, the objective, the mission, and such.
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Pages 522 - 523


"How could they leave without detection by the watch?"
"They are Warriors," said a man.
"Like shadows, like serpents, as silent as the leech plant bending toward its prey," said another.
. . .
"What did they know that we do not?" asked a man of Portus Canio.
"I do not know," said Portus Canio.
"Why did they permit us to make so little ground yesterday?" asked another man of Portus Canio.
"One does not question such men," said Portus Canio.
"Let us track them!" said a man, angrily.
"They are of the Warriors," said Portus Canio. "There will be no tracks, no trail that we could follow."
"Had we sleen!" said a man.
"Yes, of course," said Portus Canio. "- had we sleen."
"But we do not," said another man.
"Let us try to track them!" said the man.
"Feel free to do so," said Portus Canio.
"I do not think I would care to follow such men, even had we sleen," said another.
Prize of Gor     Book 27     Pages 561 - 562


Indeed, it can derange certain sorts of minds. The instincts of many caged animals, on the other hand, are more healthy. Understanding themselves trapped, they are patient, and wait. Beyond a certain interval they do not exhaust their resources, but conserve them, almost lethargically, for a given moment, for the sudden movement, for the lunge, the movement to the throat. So, after a time, Tarl Cabot, who was not particularly disanalogous to such beasts, became quiescent, at least as far as external observation might detect. This was in conformance, incidentally, with certain recommendations of his caste codes. One can learn much, even from the codes of humans. He was, as we learned, of what on Gor amongst humans is referred to as the scarlet caste. This is a high caste, doubtless because it is armed. Individuals of this caste are of great value to their cities, their employers, their princes, so to speak. Indeed, they are indispensable in their way; have they not, however unintentionally, secured the foundation of law; have they not, however unbeknownst to themselves, raised from the mire of brutishness, insecurity, and terror the towers of civilization? Surely it is they who must man the walls and defend the bridges, who must police the streets and guard the roads, and who will in sunlight, or in darkness and storms, carry forth the standards. They are unusual men and seldom understand their own nature, nor need they. Perhaps it is better that they do not. Let them laugh and fight, and drink and quarrel, and seek their slaves in conquered cities and taverns, and chain them and put them to their feet, and not inquire into the dark and mighty processes which have bred them, which have made them so real, and necessary. And so they are encouraged to emulate the stealth and savagery of the larl, the cunning and tenacity of the sleen, the vigilance and swiftness, the alertness, of the mighty tarn. They are companions to discipline; they are hardened to short rations, long watches, and the march; they are inured to the exigencies of camp and field; and trained to fight, and kill, preferably swiftly and cleanly. They do not know how they came to be, but they would not be other than they are. They are more beast than man, and more man than beast. They are, so to speak, dangerous beasts with minds. And such have their utilities. We may laud them or despise them. They are called Warriors.
Life is very real where they live it, at the edge of a sword.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Pages 17 - 18


We do not know how long he had been awake, but presumably it had not been long. Yet we are sure he was awake somewhat before he permitted this to be understood. He was, after all, of the Warriors.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 42


Many men, doubtless, and not the worst, might simply have rejoiced in their good fortune and, so to speak, enjoyed the repast with which they had been unexpectedly provided. Indeed, many Warriors might have done so. And one does not doubt but what a member of that other, though rarer, Gorean martial caste, though not held a high caste, the Assassins, might have done so. If one, anyone, were squeamish concerning the legalities, or etiquette, of the situation, he might have simply enslaved the women, and then put them to his pleasure.
Too, one supposes many men might, if only as an assertive effrontery to Priest-Kings, a way of mocking their subtleties, of refusing to suffer, might have made prompt use of the goods placed at their disposal.
Cabot, of course, unwisely or not, was not such a man.
The codes do, you see, recommend respect for the status of the free female, if not for the female herself. To be sure, the codes make it abundantly clear that this pertains only to females with whom one shares a Home Stone. Cabot, however, as some Warriors, tended to generalize this recommendation to free women more generally, saving, of course, those who might be insolent or abusive, or of an enemy city. Whereas there are clear cases in which the codes apply or do not apply, they, as most recommendations, rules, principles, and such perhaps unavoidably, were occasionally afflicted with a regrettable penumbra of obscurity. More acutely, a personal sense of honor, one which seems to me misplaced and overly sensitive, seems to have been involved, one clearly exceeding the parameters of the codes. One suspects this might have been the consequence of a personal idiosyncrasy, or even a residue lingering from an unnatural and ridiculous acculturation, one to which he had been subjected in the innocence of his childhood or adolescence.
In any event both females were helpless and at his mercy.
And yet he refrained, perhaps unconscionably, at least for the time, of making use of one, or both.
If the Priest-Kings thought that his fellows in the caste of Warriors would scorn him for dealing with the goods in the container as one might expect, it seems to me they were incorrect. Too, if Cabot was of this opinion, he, too, in my view, was mistaken. On the other hand, if they did not know humans that well it seems they did know this particular human, Tarl Cabot.
Whereas it is true that Warriors might scorn a fellow of their caste who had lost his honor, it is not at all clear that they would have regarded the usage of two females, neither of whom had a Home Stone, as it turned out, as in any way involving a loss of honor. Indeed, not making use of them would doubtless have been viewed as an inexplicable peculiarity, calling for some justification or, at least, an explanation.
Tarl Cabot was surely not eager to be shamed in the eyes of other men. On the other hand, he was most concerned not to be shamed in his own eyes.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Pages 58 - 59


"If you would accompany me, Warrior," said Peisistratus, "I will conduct you to the audience chamber of Agamemnon, who is the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One."
"You know that I am of the Warriors," said Cabot.
"Yes," he said.
"How would you know that?"
"You carry yourself as one of the scarlet caste," he said.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 136


She regarded Cabot piteously, and squirmed a little, helplessly. She could not free herself, as she had been tied by a Gorean warrior. Such are taught the binding of prisoners.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 200


Had his pursuers been unwary and unsuspecting men, or such beasts of another sort, he might have circled about and attempted, undetected, from the rear, to eliminate them one by one, certainly were they in single file and suitably separated. This is a common strategy with an unwary and unsuspecting line, but it is unlikely of success with, say, Warriors, or Assassins, as they are alert to, and familiar with, such procedures, often resorting to them themselves. And Cabot supposed, correctly or not, that the colleagues of Lord Pyrrhus would be well aware that their quarry was of the Warriors, and, accordingly, would not, thus, even though it was human, underestimate it.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 202


"Are you not of the Warriors?" asked Peisistratus.
"Once," muttered Cabot.
"Always," said Peisistratus.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 256


"You are of the Warriors," said Peisistratus.
"Once," said Cabot.
"Still," said Peisistratus.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 264


"You are of the Warriors," said Grendel. "In your hands a tiny branch, sharpened, a length of vine, is dangerous."
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 332


The sound was subtle.
Cabot leaped up, moved to the side, behind a projection, knife drawn.
A shape hurried into the cave.
Cabot came up, instantly, half seeing it, behind it, the thing almost a blur, and his left hand went closely, tightly, across its mouth, drawing its head back, stifling any sound, and his knife was at its throat.
The girl was helpless, terrified.
"Lita," said Cabot, releasing her.
Instantly she went to her knees before him, as is fitting for a female slave before her master.
Too, she was so terrified it seemed likely she could not have remained on her feet in any event.
"Do not rush in upon a fellow like that," said Cabot.
She put her head swiftly down to his feet, contritely, and kissed them.
"Announce yourself," he said, angrily.
"Forgive me, Master!" she said.
"You might have been killed," said Cabot.
"Forgive me, Master," she begged.
She was obviously frightened. She realized then, one supposes, how foolish she had been, and how narrow her escape had been.
She might have been even more terrified if she had realized how swiftly, instinctively, Gorean warriors are trained to act.
A quarter of an Ihn can be the difference between killing and being killed, between living and dying. A swift motion in one's vicinity is likely to be the strike of the predator and he who pauses to reflect in such a situation is unlikely to reflect long, or again.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 371


Although much depends on the city, and world, it is my understanding that many Gorean warriors, and certainly Kurii, do not, in field situations, exchange salutes or wear insignia. The person who salutes second is he who is recognized by the first, and thus is presumably he of higher rank. Thus, he is the preferred target. Also, prominent insignia of rank are best reserved for camps, headquarters, parades, and such.
Kur of Gor Book 28 Page 397


"It is nothing," said Cabot, a scion of Gor's scarlet caste, the Warriors.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 433



As a warrior, or as anyone actually, who might be concerned with such things, Cabot had some sense of the value of remaining both alert and undetected, while in certain milieus. One moves with some stealth, naturally, often taking advantage of cover, and one tends to be very alive to one's surroundings, as the smallest suggestion of something perhaps seen, the tiniest sound perhaps heard, the faintest odor perhaps discerned, may be burdened with significance. Similarly, to the extent possible, one avoids the breaking of branches, the tearing of leaves from a bush, the crushing of a twig, the dislodging of pebbles or debris, such things. A stone turned, for example, may reveal a dampness for better than an Ahn, which bespeaks its recent movement. The edging of a footprint, its sharpness or lack of sharpness, may have its tale to tell. The tiny tracks of a night insect across the footprint may be a chronometer of passage.
Kur of Gor     Book 28     Page 589


Although I speak Gorean fluently, I can read it and write it only with difficulty. This is not unusual with those of my caste, many of whom, by choice, are contemptuously, pridefully illiterate, holding themselves superior to what they despise as trivial, vulgar learning. The business of their caste, then, in their view, is not with the pen but with steel, not with ink, but blood. Let scribes, they say, be adept with letters, and such, for that is their business, little scratches and marks on scrolls, and such. But this is not for them, not for the Scarlet Caste. But, too, should not each caste concern itself with its own business, the metal worker with metals, the peasant with the soil, the mariner with the sea, and so on? I do not commend this view, but report it. Too, in all honesty, it is not that unusual to find refined, literate members of my caste. Some members of my caste are educated gentlemen, educated, distinguished, dangerous gentlemen.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 2


"You are of the warriors, I take it," said Pertinax.
"Why should you think so?" I asked.
"You carry yourself as a warrior," said Pertinax. "Also, your weapon seems such as theirs."
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 51


"Perhaps she will work herself free," said Pertinax.
A small sound of mirth escaped Cecily.
Pertinax looked at her, puzzled.
"She was bound by a warrior," I explained.
"I see," said Pertinax.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 67


In moving to the beach I had, as was my training, been alert to a variety of particulars, movements and shadows, the integrity of brush, the branches overhead, the nature of the ground underfoot, was a leaf pressed down here and there, was that a pebble possibly dislodged, such things. There was nothing unusual in this, and the circumspection and alertness involved, the care taken in one's passage, would have been typical of one of my caste, and certainly in negotiating an unfamiliar and perhaps dangerous terrain. Too, I suspected there might be another, or others about.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 76


"Do not!" she said. "You are of the warriors. You have codes. I am free, a free woman! I am not to be touched! I am to be treated with respect and dignity! I am not a slave! I am a free woman!"
I removed my hands from her garment, and stepped back.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 86


"He has drawn!" said a fellow.
"I did not see it," said another.
"He is of the Warriors," said a man.
Those of the scarlet are trained in such a draw. One does not indicate that one will draw. One does not glance at the hilt. One does not tense. One's attention seems elsewhere, and the eyes of others will follow. The hand is not noticed. It is, I suppose, in a way similar to a magician's sleight of hand. And then, surprisingly one notes that the weapon is free.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 135


Colors in the Gorean high cultures, as in most cultures, have their connotations or symbolisms. Too, in the Gorean high culture, certain colors tend to be associated with certain castes, for example green with the Physicians, red, or scarlet, with the Warriors, yellow with the Builders, blue with the Scribes, white with the Initiates, and so on.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 146


With respect to weaponry the Gorean warrior is commonly trained in the blade, shield, and spear.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 282


Indeed, the common Gorean warrior tended to hold the bow, even the peasant bow, in contempt, as weapons unworthy of the hand of a warrior, whose proper weapons were the shield, spear, and sword.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 322


There is little pleasure for the warrior in pursuing broken, terrified men, defeated and almost defenseless, though he can recognize the military value in doing so, following up the victory. It is good to consolidate a victory, to prevent regroupings and rallies, to further dispirit a foe, and such, and, obviously, any fellow one brings down today need not be met tomorrow. He whom you do not kill now may kill you later.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 327


And so I bowed, and lifted my sword, in a warrior's salute.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 337


There is a saying among warriors that he who attacks a shadow plays with death.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 434


Few Goreans would place themselves in proximity to a stranger, if they were unarmed. That he did so suggested forcibly to me that he was relying on a warrior's honor, for a warrior will seldom attack an unarmed adversary. It is disapproved of in the codes. In this way he showed respect for my caste, and, simultaneously, if I observed the codes, as he apparently expected would be the case, he assured his own security.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 448


He owed that duty to his daimyo, as I might owe similar duties to captains in whose commands I might serve, or to those codes which did so much to define and clarify my caste, the scarlet caste, that of the warriors.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 456


Indeed, a warrior's pay is commonly the loot he can acquire. Too, we might note that amongst the most prized and sought-after fruits of war are the females of the enemy. They are valuable loot and bring good prices in the markets. Too, one may wish to keep them. One of the greatest pleasures of a Gorean warrior is to have a woman of the enemy as his slave.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 476


Who could long resist her? And should she fail in this there was the Kur pet, in her way a primitive human animal, as innocent and sexual as a cat in heat. In one way or another, then, my honor was to have been lost, as, sooner or later, given the imperatives of nature and the provocations to which I was exposed, I must be unable to resist, as I must feast upon one or both of these delicacies, putting one or both of them, again and again, to my pleasure. Neither, you see, was a slave, at least legally. Both were free, at least legally. And therein lay the difficulty. I have little doubt but what, sooner or later, I would have taken the proud, vain, selfish English girl in my arms, and she would learn what it would be to be used by a Gorean warrior, and as might be a mere slave.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Pages 552 - 553


Many Gorean warriors, in private matters, will not cross swords with a foe they do not respect.
Swordsmen of Gor     Book 29     Page 573


Occasionally a warrior on foot and a tarnsman collaborate on a kill. The warrior on foot engages the target, and the tarnsman, unseen, glides in, silently, placing a bolt in the adversary's unprotected back. This act is scorned in the codes, of course, but it is not without precedent in the field. It is common amongst outlaws and rogue tarnsmen.
Mariners of Gor     Book 30     Page 59


"One does not sell one's blade," he said.
"I needed money," I said.
"One dies first," he said.
"I am not of the warriors," I said.
"But you take fee?" he said.
"Yes," I said.
From his presence at my interview, or interrogation, I took him to be an officer of some sort.
His accent was unusual. I could not place it. Perhaps Harfax.
I did not think he bore me any ill will. Indeed, yesterday, on my behalf, he had stood against Seremides himself. Perhaps he did not know, as I did, the skills of the former captain of the Taurentians. I knew of no blade the equal of his. Something in the eyes or mien of this man suggested he might be other than many here; oddly enough, for the venue, I suspected he might once have been no stranger to honor; such I would not have sensed in Seremides. I wondered if he were once of the warriors, perhaps long ago. Such men may betray the codes, but they are not likely to forget them. It is hard to forget the codes. Is it not a saying of warriors that one does not sell one's blade, that steel is to be prized above gold? And honor above life? How came then such a man here, if he were such a man, on this ship, amidst this unlikely, motley crew? Had he betrayed the codes? But it is difficult to forget the codes. There were always the codes, the codes. I supposed them fools, such men, but there are such men. One mocks them until one needs them. Who else, when one is in mortal jeopardy, would one prefer to have at one's back? They are of the scarlet caste. Such men, at the least, like the Assassins, are likely to kill quickly, and cleanly.
Mariners of Gor     Book 30     Pages 101 - 102


"I speak as I will," said Cabot. "It is the way of my caste."
"He is of the scarlet caste," explained Lord Nishida.
"Ah," said Lord Okimoto.
Mariners of Gor     Book 30     Page 175


Many Goreans, particularly of the lower castes, and some of the Warriors, a high caste, cannot read. Literacy is accepted in the lower castes, but not encouraged. There are Peasants who have never seen a written word. Some Warriors take pride in their inability to read, regarding that skill as unworthy of them, as being more appropriate to record keepers, tradesmen, clerks, and such, and some who can read take pains to conceal the fact. Swords, not words, rule cities, it is said. And some Goreans feel that reading is appropriate only for the less successful, those too poor to have their reading done for them, their letters written for them, and such. Slaves, unless formerly of high caste, are often illiterate. And barbarian slaves are seldom taught to read. This produces the anomaly that many barbarian slaves, who are generally of high intelligence, will be literate in one or more of the barbarian languages, but illiterate in Gorean. Indeed, they are often kept so, deliberately, that they may be all the more helpless, as slaves, and know themselves all the better as mere slaves. Needless to say, all members of my caste, even from childhood, are taught to read.
Mariners of Gor     Book 30     Page 516


Not every man, of course, will accept bounty, particularly on a woman. Callias, of Jad, was a warrior, an oarsman, at one time an officer. Bounty hunters are commonly low warriors, men without Home Stones, brigands, assassins, villains, thieves, reprobates, the recklessly impecunious, gamblers, the dishonored.
Mariners of Gor     Book 30     Page 535


I had little doubt that the Merchants was the wealthiest caste. It seemed to me, then, that it should be the highest caste. Of what value, for example, was the Scarlet Caste, the caste of Warriors, if not to protect the gold, the wealth, of the Merchants?
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Page 26


As I watched my ankles being tied I noted the beast was using warrior knots, the sort which quickly and easily secure a woman. As women are common loot on Gor, of greater interest than, say, goblets and tapestries, warriors are instructed in such knots. By their means a woman may be rendered wholly helpless in a matter of Ihn. I moved my ankles a little. They were well tethered.
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Page 196


Oddly, I suspected more of humanity, or a sort of humanity, in the beast. It had, for example, or at least seemed to have, a sense of duty, of loyalty, of honesty, of honor. I recalled how my ankles had been bound outside the Tarsk Market. They had been fastened together with warrior knots. Might it be, somehow familiar with the scarlet codes?
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Pages 203 - 204


Many would prefer not to count the Warriors as a high caste, but there are few who would openly deny their title to the status, as they are armed.
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Page 221


He was, as far as I knew, a mercenary, with a possible background in the Scarlet Caste.
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Page 339


Astrinax, I recalled, had wished to hire two or three more men. It did not seem likely, however, that he would be successful, as few fellows, even of the Scarlet Caste, cared to enter the Voltai, particularly on some obscure mission which might prove to be of some indefinite duration.
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Page 340


Too, the band grows restless. That is clear in the signals. They wish to act. These are not fellows of the Scarlet Caste. Discipline is fragile."
Conspirators of Gor     Book 31     Page 423


None, I suppose, would dispute with the Warriors that they are a high caste.
Smugglers of Gor     Book 32     Page 64


The rations of Gorean warriors, in the field, I am told, are often austere. A small sack of grain, commonly Sa-Tarna, the Life Daughter, is often carried in the pack, or at one's belt. Two handfuls of this, the hands cupped together, may then be dampened in a spring, or stream, and eaten.
Smugglers of Gor     Book 32     Page 111


Many men at arms, for example, pride themselves on their illiteracy, regarding reading as a pursuit more appropriate to merchants and scribes than to those of the "scarlet caste."
Smugglers of Gor     Book 32     Page 206


I did know that a small unevenness in one's pace, a tiny difference in the stride of one foot as opposed to the other, common in almost anyone, save perhaps those trained in a measured stride, such as warriors, might result in one's eventually describing a vast circle, but I did not think I had covered so many Pasangs as to make that plausible.
Smugglers of Gor     Book 32     Page 430


Few men, I was sure, saving perhaps workmen, some mariners, and such, had been hired north without the assurance that they possessed one or another of the dark skills. Some here, I speculated, might even be of the caste of Warriors, though in such a case, perhaps renegades or exiles, possibly men who had fared badly in city revolutions, even men who may have forsworn Home Stones or betrayed codes, desperate men, dangerous men.
Smugglers of Gor     Book 32     Page 469


Men see land differently, the merchant in terms of profitability, the sage in terms of quietude the poet in terms of mood, the painter in terms of beauty, the peasant in terms of home, in terms of soil, fertility, tillability, and yield. But I feared I saw it differently. I was of the scarlet caste. The military eye does not see land as others see it. It sees it in terms of what might be done, and not done, and how easily, sees it in terms of movement, columns, the marshaling of men, the arrangement of troops, the order of battle in terms of passage heights, time, concealment, attack, marches, and tactics. High grass, a wood, may conceal foes. If there is a marsh to the right, would the attack not be likely from the left? Has a frightened animal darted past? What has frightened it? Keep high ground on the shield side.
Rebels of Gor     Book 33     Page 9


"He was warned," I said. "He had my word."
"The word of a barbarian," said Lord Okimoto.
"Know you so little of the continent?" asked Lord Nishida. "It was the word of one who is of the scarlet caste, the word of a warrior."
Rebels of Gor     Book 33     Page 433


Perhaps it would be a slave from Port Kar, or perhaps from Ko-ro-ba where I had first donned the scarlet of the warrior, with whom I would be threatened, whose fate might be dire unless I complied with the commands of Lord Temmu.
Rebels of Gor     Book 33     Page 619


"Many warriors," I said, "wear the scarlet of their caste."
Plunder of Gor     Book 34     Page 229


Some four or five present were clearly of the scarlet caste. I supposed them guards. Clearly they were armed, their scabbarding presumably hosting that short, wicked blade known as the gladius.
Plunder of Gor     Book 34     Pages 431 - 432


Many Goreans of the lower castes could not read and write. Interestingly, some Goreans of the upper castes, notably the Warriors, prided themselves on their lack of "letters," regarding reading and writing as scribes' work and beneath their dignity. I think few of them would have regarded the "pen" as "mightier than the sword." Their pen, so to speak, was the sword, and their ink, blood. Certainly in any contest of the pen against the sword, one supposes it might be judicious to wager on the sword. It tends to be longer and sharper, and often dictates what the pen will write.
Plunder of Gor     Book 34     Page 432


One of the most interesting castes is that of the Players, who live by means of a board game called 'Kaissa'. In most cases, they will sell a game for a tarsk-bit, but, in certain cases, certain Players, such as Scormus, of Ar, or Centius, of Cos, may receive as much as a golden tarn for a single game. The best players are entitled to set their boards on the highest bridges. Membership in the caste is not determined by birth, but, as with the Warriors, by skill.
Plunder of Gor     Book 34     Page 435


"The Gorean warrior," he said, "is trained to kill, swiftly, and efficiently. Would you clamber over bulwarks to meet a blade whose motion you might not even detect?"
Quarry of Gor     Book 35     Page 109


This exchange will be better understood if it is understood that many Goreans cannot read, particularly in the lower castes, and, interestingly, in the scarlet caste, the caste of Warriors, as well, a high caste. Indeed, who would be so bold as to claim that the Warriors was not a high caste?
Quarry of Gor     Book 35     Page 334