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With a laugh Torgus then, with a declination of his lance, followed by that of his bannerman, followed by the twenty, in its four prides, in its ranks, that twenty which was his personal guard, swooped downward to join the fray below. - (Swordsmen of Gor, Chapter 17, Sentence #98)

"Victory!" cried Torgus, grinning. "Victory!" "War!" I cried, and gestured downward, toward the plaza of training. The sky was ours, the ground was not. With a laugh Torgus then, with a declination of his lance, followed by that of his bannerman, followed by the twenty, in its four prides, in its ranks, that twenty which was his personal guard, swooped downward to join the fray below. Oddly, some of the invaders about the camp seemed unaware of the catastrophies that had overcome so many of their fellows. This sort of thing, however, is not unknown in combat. Often one thinks a battle is won because one is successful in one's own narrow corridor, on one's own plot of ground, while a few hectares away it has been overwhelmingly lost. - (Swordsmen of Gor)