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with gold. "Then we will find another post !"
There are many tricks in the use of the ax; feints are often used, and short
strokes; and the handle, jabbing and punching; a full swing, of course, should
it miss, exposes the warrior;
certain elementary stratagems might be mentioned; the following are typical:
it is pretended to have taken a full swing, even to the cry of the kill, but
the swing is held short and not followed through; the antagonist then, if
unwary, may rush forward, and be taken, the ax turned, offguard, by the back
cut, from the left to right; sometimes it is possible, too, lf the opponent
carries his shield too high, to step to the left, and, with a looping stroke,
cut off the shield arm; a low stroke, too, can be dangerous, for the human
foot, as swift as a sapling, may be struck away;
defensively, of course, if one can lure the full stroke and yet escape it, one
has an instant to press the advantage; this is sometimes done by seeming to
expose more of the body than one wary to the ax might, that to tempt the
antagonist, he thinking he is dealing with an unskilled foe, to prematurely
commit the weight of his body to a full blow. The ax of Torvaldsland is one of
the most fearful of the weapons on Gor. If one can get behind the ax, of
course, one can meet it; but it is not easy to get behind the ax of one who
knows its use, he need only strike one blow; he is not likely to launch it
until it is assured of its target.
An Ahn later the Forkbeard, accompanied by Ottar, keeper of his farm, and Tarl
Red Hair, now of
Forkbeard's Landfall, inspected his fields.
The northern Sa-Tarna, in its rows, yellow and sprouting, was about ten inches
high. The growing season at this latitude, mitigated by the Torvaldstream, was
about one hundred and twenty days.
This crop had actually been sown the preceding fall, a month following the
harvest festival. It is sown early enough, however, that, before the deep
frosts temporarily stop growth, a good root system can develop. Then, in the
warmth of the spring, in the softening soil, the plants, hardy and rugged,
again assert themselves. The yield of the fall-sown Sa-Tarna is,
statistically, larger than that of the spring-sown varieties.
"Good," said the Forkbeard. He climbed to his feet. He knocked the dirt from
the knees of his leather trousers. "Good," he said.
Sa-Tarna is the major crop of the Forkbeard's lands, but, too, there are many
gardens, and, as I
have noted, bosk and verr, too, are raised. Ottar dug for the Forkbeard and
myself two radishes
file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Norman,%20John%...%20Earth%2009%20-%20Marauders%2
0of%20Gor.txt (47 of 136) [1/20/03 3:30:06 AM]
file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Norman,%20John%20-%20Counter%20Earth%2009%20-%20M
arauders%20of%20Gor.txt and we, wiping the dirt from them, ate them. The
tospits, in the Forkbeard's orchard, which can grow at this latitude, as the
larma cannot, were too green to eat. I smiled, recalling that tospits almost
invariably have an odd number of seeds, saving the rarer, long-stemmed
variety. I
do not care too much for tospits, as they are quite bitter. Some men like
them. They are commonly used, sliced and sweetened with honey, and in syrups,
and to flavor, with their juices, a variety of dishes. They are also excellent
in the prevention of nutritional deficiencies at sea, in long voyages,
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
containing, I expect, a great deal of vitamin C. They are sometimes called
the seaman's larma. They are a fairly hardfleshed fruit, and are not difficult
to dry and store. On the serpents they are carried in small barrels, usually
kept, with vegetables, under the overturned keel of the longboat. We stopped
by the churning shed, where Olga, sweating, had finished making a keg of
butter. We dipped our fingers into the keg. It was quite good. "Take it to
the kitchen,"
said the Forkbeard. "Yes, my Jarl," she said. "Hurry, lazy girl," said he.
"Yes, my Jarl," she said, seizing the rope handle of the keg and, leaning to
the right to balance it, hurried from the churning shed. Earlier, before he
had begun his tour of inspection, Pudding had come to him, and knelt before
him, holding a plate of Sa-Tarna loaves. The daughter of Gurt, the
Administrator of
Kassau, was being taught to bake. She watched fearfully as the Forkbeard bit
into one. "It needs more salt," he had said to her. She shuddered. "Do you
think you are a bond-maid of the south?" he asked. "No, my Jarl," she had
said. "Do you think it is enough for you to be pleasant in the furs?" he
asked. "Oh, no, my Jarl!" she cried. "Bond-maids of the north must know how to
do useful things," he told her. "Yes, my Jarl !" she cried. "Take these," said
he, "to the stink pen and, with them, swill the tarsks!" "Yes, myJarl," she
wept, leaping to her feet, and fleeing away.
"Bond-maid!" called he. She stopped, and turned. "Do you wish to go to the
whipping post ?" he asked. This is a stout post, outside the hall, of peeled
wood, with an iron ring near the top, to which the wrists of a bond-maid,
crossed, are lashed over her head. Near the bosk shed there is a similar post,
with a higher ring, used for thralls. "No, my Jarl!" cried Pudding. "See
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