Captive of Gor by John Norman Page A

stained with black. Its
    cover, of blue and yellow silk, was torn. Near the front of the wagon, too, was
    a short, fat man, clad in a robe of broadly striped blue and yellow silk.
    Startled, they turned to face me.
    I ran down the hill, stumbling and laughing, toward them.
    Two of the men ran forward to meet me. Another two, flanking these, began to run
    toward the top of the hill. They passed me.
    “I’m Elinor Brinton,” I told the men who had come to meet me. “I live in New
    York City. I’m lost.”
    One of the men, with two hands, seized my left wrist. The other man, with two
    hands, seized my right wrist. They swiftly left me, pulling me, not gently, down
    the hill between them, toward the group at the wagon.
    The small, fat, short man, he, plump and paunchy in his robe of broadly striped
    blue and yellow silk, scarcely looked at me. He was more anxiously regarding the
    top of the hill, where his two men had gone. Crouching down, they were looking
    about, over the hill. Two others of his men had left the wagon and were looking
    about, some hundreds or so, on other sides. The girls near the front of the
    wagon, immeshed in the harness, seemed apprehensive. The fat man wore earrings,
    sapphires, pendant on golden stalks. His hair, long and black, did not seem
    cared for. It was dirty, not well combed. It was tied behind his head with a
    band (pg. 47) of blue and yellow silk. He wore purple sandals, the straps of
    which were set with pearls. The sandals were now covered with dust. Some of the
    pearls were missing. On his small, fat hands, there were several rings. His
    hands, and nails, were dirty. I sensed that he might be, in his personal habits,
    rather fastidious. But, now, surely he did not seem so. Rather he seemed
    haggard, apprehensive. One of the men, a grizzled fellow, with one eye, came
    back from searching the fields some hundred yards or so from the wagon. I
    gathered he had found nothing. He called the fat, pudgy little man “Targo.”
    Targo looked up to the top of the hill. One of the men there, standing a bit
    below its crest, waved to him, and shrugged, lifting his arms in the air. He had
    seen nothing.
    Targo drew a deep breath. Visibly he relaxed.
    He then regarded me.
    I smiled my prettiest smile. “Thank you,” I said, “for rescuing me. My name is
    Elinor Brinton. I live in New York City, which is a city on the planet Earth. I
    wish to return there, immediately. I’m rich, and I assure you that if you take
    me there, you will be well rewarded.”
    Targo regarded me, puzzled.
    But he must understand English!
    Another man came back, I suppose to report that he had found nothing. Targo sent
    him back, perhaps to stand watch. One of the men he then recalled from the top
    of the hill. The other remained there, also I suppose, to watch.
    I repeated, somewhat irritably, but with some patience, what I had said before.
    I spoke clearly, slowly, that I might be easier to understand.
    I wished the two men would release my wrists.
    I was going to speak further to him, to attempt to explain my predicament and my
    desires, but he said something abruptly, irritably.
    I flushed with anger.
    He did not wish to hear me speak.
    I pulled at my wrists, but the two men would not release me.
    The Targo began to speak to me. But I could understand (pg. 48) nothing. He
    spoke sharply, as one might speak to a servant. This irritated me.
    “I do not understand you,” I told him, icily.
    Targo then seemed to reconsider his impatience. My tone of voice had seemed to
    startle him. He looked at me, carefully. It seemed he suspected he had been
    wrong in some way about me. He now came closer to me. His voice was oily,
    ingratiating. It amused me that I had won this small victory. He seemed kinder
    now, honeyed.
    He would treat Elinor Brinton properly!
    But I still, of course, could not understand him.
    There seemed something, however, that was familiar about his speech. I could not
    identify what it was.
    He seemed to