Betting

The following taken from Fighting Slaves of Gor:

The bar then suddenly sounded and I leaped to my feet and moved quickly onto the sand.
I was not before him, however, when Krondar, raging, hurled himself toward me. He reeled, struck in the side of the head, against the wooden palings at the side of the pit of sand.
The crowd seemed stunned.
I did not pursue my advantage. "There are fighters other than in Ar," I told Krondar. "I hope that you understand this clearly."
He glared at me.
"A golden tarn disk on Jason!" I heard Barus cry.
"Taken!" called a man in the tiers.
"But ten to one!" called Barus.
"Granted!" called the man. "Let me bet, too," cried another.
Furious Krondar head down lunged at me. He was thus not in a position to protect against the upward stroke with which I caught him. Fortunately we did not engage with knife gauntlets or his head might have been torn from him. Even the cruel cestae of the low pits might have cut away his lower jaw. I still felt the shock in my right arm and shoulder. He staggered backward and to one side. I did not, again, pursue my advantage. "I tell you," I said, "that there are fighters, too, in what you might consider the wilderness or the outlands." He was breathing heavily. "Even in the stables of Vonda," I said, "there are champions." There was a cheer at this from many in the tiers. Even the slave girls, in their rags and collars, cried out with pleasure.
"A golden tarn disk on Jason!" cried Barus. "At ten to one!" There was silence. "Eight to one!" cried Barus. "Five to one!"
"Taken," said a man, uncertainly.
Again, maddened, Krondar, again head down, hurled himself toward me. This time I did not strike him, but let him, sand kicking behind him, plunge past me. He. turned quickly, startled, at the palings. He knew that I had not struck him.
"Let us take one another seriously," I said.
"A golden tarn disk on Jason!" called Barus. "Five to onel Five to one? Three to one? Two to one? Even odds! Even odds!"
"Taken!" said a man. "Taken!" said another.
In that squarish, hideously scarred countenance of Krondar there was, for a moment, a sudden understanding that though he were now in the vicinity of Vonda he with whom he shared that shallow pit of sand, collared and slave, too, might be one perhaps not unworthy to be called a fighter.
"A golden tarn disk on Jason!" cried Barus. "Even odds! Even odds!"
There were no answers from the crowd.
Again Krondar charged, as though maddened, but I had earlier seen his understanding that I might be dangerous. This time I stood to the right and, as he thrust forth his hands to seize me, I struck upward with my left fist. I then struck him crosswise with my right fist, and then similarly again with my left fist, this time to the gut. This brought his head into position for the upward stroke of my right first again. The combination was swift and delivered at close range. The crowd was screaming. I could conceive of the post in the training barn shattering. Krondar shook his head, backing away. I followed him, warily. Swiftly, with his right foot he dug into the sand to hurl its granular shower at me, but I was too quickly upon him. Such an action puts a man off balance. I struck him four times before he struck against the palings and twisted away.
"You would not try that trick, surely, in the pits of Ar," I chided him. "Do you think you can dare to put yourself so off balance with me? Do you think to shame me? Next time I will press my advantage with severity."
Krondar grinned, and wiped blood from his face. He shrugged. "You are fast," he said.
"There are champions in Vonda!" cried a man in the tiers. "Yes!" cried others.
"A silver tarsk on Jason!" called Barns. "Even odds! Even odds!"
But no one responded to his proposal.
Krondar came carefully toward the center of the sand. He beckoned to me. "Come here," he said. "Let us become better acquainted."
"Do you think I fear to close with you?" I asked.
He suddenly lunged toward me and we, our hands even bound in leather, grappled. He grunted savagely trying to hurl me off balance into the palings. We stood locked together, swaying, breathing heavily, on the sand.
The slave girls screamed.
Krondar struck brutally against the palings. They shook. There was blood on them.
There was screaming and cries from the crowd. Krondar shook his head. He was still conscious.
"A silver tarsk on Jason!" cried Barns. "Odds of two to one in favor of Jason! Four to one? Ten to one in favor of Jason!"
The bar then rang and the first fighting period was terminated.
The crowd was screaming.
I stood unsteadily in the center of the sand. It was in the fourth fighting period. Kenneth and Barus ran to me. I felt my bloody, leather-bound fists raised in victory. Gold showered into the pit. Half-naked slave girls knelt at my feet, weeping, pressing their lips to my feet and body. I saw free women in the tiers, their eyes wild, half glazed, over their veils. Men were cheering. Many were pounding their left shoulders in Gorean applause. I saw that Miles of Vonda had left. I broke loose from the crowd and lifted Krondar, bloody, to his feet. We embraced. "You could fight in Ar," he said. Then he was pulled from me, and hooded and shackled. Kenneth and Barus drew me from the fighting area. We forced our way through the crowd. Slave girls clung about me. Even free women reached out to touch me, my body covered with sweat and sand.