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I was anxious to make the acquaintance of the Tahari scimitar. "There will be war between the Kavars and the Aretai," I heard a man say. I walked to the street of the weapon makers. Lightly, in my right hand, I swung walking chains. They would look well on the slim ankles of the lovely Alyena, a slave girl I was having boarded and trained in the pens of Tor. This night I thought I would have my supper at the Pomegranate. I had heard their dancers were superb. - (Tribesmen of Gor)