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There was a sudden cry of pain, short, and ugly, from the sand, and I looked about, wildly, suddenly, startled, back to the sand, and then turned away, and put down my head, covering my eyes with my hands. - (Plunder of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #33)

"I favor," said Tyrtaios, "the confrontation, the sword". "Ela, dear fellow," said a man, "I fear the codes of your betrayed caste yet linger". "Rather," said Tyrtaios, "one is unwilling to allow certain skills to languish". There was a sudden cry of pain, short, and ugly, from the sand, and I looked about, wildly, suddenly, startled, back to the sand, and then turned away, and put down my head, covering my eyes with my hands. "Light the torches, the lamps," said a fellow from a table across the sand. He wore the somber robes and dark chaplet of the others but seemed more dour, more formidable, more terrible, surely in a way the others did not. I had seen him enter the room, and the others, including my master, Tyrtaios, had stood, acknowledging his presence, and did not resume their positions until he had taken his place on his couch, a higher couch than the others. - (Plunder of Gor)