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The two crossbowmen at the wagon, their bodies muchly behind the wagon, shielded there, the quarrels at the ready, tensed. - (Prize of Gor, Chapter 27, Sentence #882)

He stopped there, some feet before the wagon, the blade of his dagger at the throat of the dazed, disconcerted fellow he held. The man's hand moved toward his holstered weapon, but then he lifted it, and held it away from the holster, as the edge of the blade tightened at his throat. Hands of the riders moved toward their weapons, but they did not draw them. The two crossbowmen at the wagon, their bodies muchly behind the wagon, shielded there, the quarrels at the ready, tensed. Each had his target. "If you would have your captain live," cried Arconious, "throw down your weapons, and be on your way!" "Throw down your weapons!" cried he who was held by Arconious. "Cast them down!" "But we are prepared to leave in peace," said one of the riders, inching his mount forward. - (Prize of Gor)