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He placed it in his own belt and took from a pouch at his side a pair of manacles, which he snapped on my wrists. - (Tarnsman of Gor, Chapter 7, Sentence #222)

The initial velocity of a quarrel is the better part of a pasang per second. The officer, a swaggering fellow whose helmet, though polished, bore the marks of combat, approached me, holding his sword to me, and seized my weapon from its scabbard and the girl's dagger from my belt. He looked at the signet on the dagger hilt and seemed pleased. He placed it in his own belt and took from a pouch at his side a pair of manacles, which he snapped on my wrists. He then turned to the girl. "You are Talena," he said, tapping the dagger, "daughter of Marlenus?" "You see I wear the robes of the Ubar's daughter," said the girl, scarcely deigning to respond to the officer's question. She paid her rescuers no more attention, treating them as if they were no more worthy of her gratitude than the dust beneath her feet. - (Tarnsman of Gor)