Tarns

The Goreans believe, incredibly enough, that the capacity to master a tarn is innate and that some men possess this characteristic and that some do not. One does not learn to master a tarn. It is a matter of blood and spirit, of beast and man, of a relation between two beings which must be immediate, intuitive, spontaneous. It is said that a tarn knows who is a tarnsman and who is not, and that those who are not die in this first meeting.
My first impression was that of a rush of wind and a great snapping sound, as if a giant might be snapping an enormous towel or scarf; then I was cowering, awestricken, in a great winged shadow, and an immense tarn, his talons extended like gigantic steel hooks, his wings sputtering fiercely in the air, hung above me, motionless except for the beating of his wings.
"Stand clear of the wings," shouted the Older Tarl.
I needed no urging. I darted from under the bird. One stroke of those wings would hurl me yards from the top of the cylinder.
The tarn dropped to the roof of the cylinder and regarded us with his bright black eyes.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 51 | Chapter: 3:78-82

Though the tarn, like most birds, is surprisingly light for its size, this primarily having to do with the comparative hollowness of the bones, it is an extremely powerful bird, powerful even beyond what one would expect from such a monster. Whereas large Earth birds, such as the eagle, must, when taking flight from the ground, begin with a running start, the tarn, with its incredible musculature, aided undoubtedly by the somewhat lighter gravity of Gor, can with a spring and a sudden flurry of its giant wings lift both himself and his rider into the air. In Gorean, these birds are sometimes spoken of as Brothers of the Wind.
The plumage of tarns is various, and they are bred for their colors as well as their strength and intelligence. Black tarns are used for night raids, white tarns in winter campaigns, and multicolored, resplendent tarns are bred for warriors who wish to ride proudly, regardless of the lack of camouflage. The most common tarn, however is greenish brown. Disregarding the disproportion in size, the Earth bird which the tarn most closely resembles is the hawk, with the exception that it has a crest somewhat of the nature of a jay's.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 51-52 | Chapter: 3:83-84

Tarns, who are vicious things are seldom more than half tamed and, like their diminutive earthly counterparts, the hawks, are carnivorous. It is not unknown for a tarn to attack and devour his own rider. They fear nothing but the tarn-goad. They are trained by men of the Caste of Tarn Keepers to respond to it while still young, when they can be fastened by wires to the training perches. Whenever a young bird soars away or refuses obedience in some fashion, he is dragged back to the perch and beaten with the tarn-goad. Rings, comparable to those which are fastened on the legs of the young birds, are worn by the adult birds to reinforce the memory of the hobbling wire and the tarn-goad. Later, of course, the adult birds are not fastened, but the conditioning given them in their youth usually holds, except when they become abnormally disturbed or have not been able to obtain food.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 52 | Chapter: 3:85

The tarn is one of the two most common mounts of a Gorean warrior; the other is the high tharlarion, a species of saddle-lizard, used mostly by clans who have never mastered tarns. No one in the City of Cylinders, as far as I knew, maintained tharlarions, though they were supposedly quite common on Gor, particularly in the lower areas - in swampland and on the deserts.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 52 | Chapter: 3:85

I mounted my tarn, that fierce, black magnificent bird. My shield and spear were secured by saddle straps; my sword was slung over my shoulder. On each side of the saddle hung a missile weapon, a crossbow with a quiver of a dozen quarrels, or bolts, on the left, a longbow with a quiver of thirty arrows on the right. The saddle pack contained the light gear carried by raiding tarnsmen - in particular, rations, a compass, maps, binding fiber, and extra bowstrings.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 64-65 | Chapter: 5:1

The Home Stone of Ar, like most Home Stones in the cylinder cities, was kept free on the tallest tower, as if in open defiance of the tarnsmen of rival cities. It was, of course, kept well-guarded and at the first sign of serious danger would undoubtedly be carried to safety. Any attempt on the Home Stone was regarded by the citizens of a city as sacrilege of the most heinous variety and punishable by the most painful of deaths, but paradoxically, it was regarded as the greatest of glories to purloin the Home Stone of another city, and the warrior who managed this was acclaimed, accorded the highest honors of the city, and was believed to be favored by the Priest-Kings themselves.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 67-68 | Chapter: 5:10

"Women are seldom permitted to ride on the backs of tarns," she said. "In the carrying baskets, but not as a warrior rides."
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 70 | Chapter: 5:23

I took from my tunic the key my father had given me, the key to Sana's collar. I reached to the lock behind her neck, inserted the key and turned it, springing open the mechanism. I jerked the collar away from her throat and threw it and the key from the tarn's back and watched them fly downward in a log graceful parabola.
"You are free," I said "And we are going to Thentis."
She sat before me, stunned, her hands unbelievingly at her throat. "Why?" she asked. "Why?"
What could I tell her? That I had come from another world, that I was determined that all the ways of Gor should not be mine, or that I had cared for her, somehow, so helpless in her condition--that she had moved me to regard her not as an instrumentality of mine or of the Council, but as a girl, young, rich with life, not to be sacrificed in the games of statecraft?
"I have my reasons for freeing you," I said, "but I am not sure that you would understand them," and I added, under my breath, to myself, that I was not altogether sure I understood them myself.
"My father," she said, "and my brothers will reward you."
"No," I said.
"If you wish, they are bound in honor to grant me to you, without bride price."
"The ride to Thentis will be long," I said.
She replied proudly, "My bride price would be a hundred tarns."
I whistled to myself - my ex-slave would have come high. On a Warrior's allowance I would not have been able to afford her.
"If you wish to land," said Sana, apparently determined to see me compensated in some fashion, "I will serve your pleasure."
It occurred to me that there was at least one reply which she, bred in the honor codes of Gor, should understand, one reply that should silence her. "Would you diminish the worth of my gift to you?" I asked, feigning anger.
She thought for a moment then gently kissed me on the lips. "No, Tarl Cabot of Ko-ro-ba," she said, "but you well know that I could do nothing that would diminish the worth of your gift to me. Tarl Cabot, I care for you."
I realized that she had spoken to me as a free woman, using my name.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 71-72 | Chapter: 5:36-50

"My father," she said, "and my brothers will reward you."
"No," I said.
"If you wish, they are bound in honor to grant me to you, without bride price."
.....
She replied proudly, "My bride price would be a hundred tarns."
I whistled to myself - my ex-slave would have come high. On a Warrior's allowance I would not have been able to afford her.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 71 | Chapter: 5:41-46

During the day I freed my tarn, to allow him to feed as he would. They are diurnal hunters and eat only what they catch themselves, usually one of the fleet Gorean antelopes or a wild bull, taken on the run and lifted in the monstrous talons to a high place, where it is torn to pieces and devoured. Needless to say, tarns are a threat to any living matter that is luckless enough to fall within the shadow of their wings, even human beings.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 73 | Chapter: 5:53

The dominant colors of her Robes of Concealment were subtle reds, yellows, and purples, arrayed in intricate, overlapping folds. I guessed it would have taken her slave girls hours to array her in such garments. Many of the free women of Gor and almost always those of High Caste wear the Robes of Concealment, though, of course, their garments are seldom as complex or splendidly wrought as those of a Ubar's daughter. The Robes of Concealment, in function, resemble the garments of Muslim women on my own planet, though they are undoubtedly more intricate and cumbersome. Normally, of men, only a father and a husband may look upon the woman unveiled.
In the barbaric world of Gor, the Robes of Concealment are deemed necessary to protect the women from the binding fibers of roving tarnsmen. Few warriors will risk their lives to capture a woman who may be as ugly as a tharlarion. Better to steal slaves, where the guilt is less and the charms of the captive are more readily ascertainable in advance.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 87 | Chapter: 6:55-56

"Marlenus lost the Home Stone, the Luck of Ar. He, with fifty tarnsmen, disloyal to the city, seized what they could of the treasury and escaped. In the streets there is civil war, fighting between the factions that would master Ar. There is looting and pillaging. The city is under martial law."
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 102 | Chapter: 8:5

Talena spoke, her voice muffled in the hood. "Scavengers come to feast on the bodies of wounded tarnsmen." It was a Gorean proverb, which seemed to be singularly inappropriate, coming from a hooded captive.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 116 | Chapter: 9:46

...I learned to master the high tharlarion, one of th which had been assigned to me by the caravan's tharlarion master. These gigantic lizards had been bred on Gor for a thousand generations before the first tarn was tamed, and were raised from the leathery shell to carry warriors. They responded to voice signals, conditioned into their tiny brains in the training years. Nonetheless, the butt of one's lance, striking about the eye or ear openings, for there are few other sensitive areas in scaled hides, is occasionally necessary to impress your will on the monster.
The high thalarions, unlike their draft brethren, the slow-moving, four-footed broad thalarions, were carnivorous. However, their metabolism was slower than that of a tarn, whose mind never seemed far from food and, if it was available, could consume half its weight in a single day. Moreover, they needed far less water than tarns. To me, the most puzzling thing about the domesticated tharlarions, and the way in which they differed most obviously from wild tharlarions and the lizards of my native planet, was their stamina, their capacity for sustained movement. When the high tharlarion moves slowly, its stride is best described as a proud, stalking movement, each great clawed foot striking the earth with a measured rhythm. When urged to speed, however, the high tharlarion bounds, in great leaping movements that carry it twenty paces at a time.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 124-125 | Chapter: 10:61-62

"She's beautiful," Talena would say as the auctioneer would tug the single loop on the right shoulder of the slave livery, dropping it to the girl's ankles. Of another, Talena would sniff scornfully. She seemed to be pleased when her friends were bought by handsome tarnsmen, and laughed delightedly when one girl, to whom she had taken a dislike, was purchased by a fat, odious fellow, of the Caste of Tarn Keepers.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 132 | Chapter: 11:18

I had noticed that there was among the crowd one tall, somber figure who sat alone on a high, wooden throne, surrounded by tarnsmen. He wore the black helmet of a member of the Caste of Assassins.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 133 | Chapter: 11:21

The tarn, a brown tarn with a black crest like most wild tarns,...
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 140 | Chapter: 12:33

The tarn, a brown tarn with a black crest like most wild tarns, streaked for that vague, distant smudge I knew marked the escarpments of some mountain wilderness. The Vosk became a broad, glimmering ribbon in the distance.
Far below, I could see that the burned, dead Margin of Desolation was dotted here and there with patches of green, where some handfuls of seed had blindly asserted themselves, reclaiming something of that devastated country for life and growth. Near one of the green stretches I saw what I first thought was a shadow, but as the tarn passed, it scattered into a scampering flock of tiny creatures, probably the small, three-toed mammals called qualae, dun-colored and with a stiff brushy mane of black hair.
As nearly as I could determine, we did not pass over or near the great highway that ran to the Vosk. Had we done so, I might have seen the war horde of Pa-Kur on its way to Ar....
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 140-141 | Chapter: 12:33-36

....standing well within the reach of his beak, showing no fear. I slapped his beak affectionately, as if we were in a tarn cot, and shoved my hands into his neck feathers, the area where the tarn can't preen, as the tarn keepers do when searching for parasites.
I withdrew some of the lice, the size of marbles, which tend to infest wild tarns, and slapped them roughly into the mouth of the tarn, wiping them off on his tongue. I did this again and again, and the tarn stretched out his neck.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 142 | Chapter: 12:40-41

As an act of charity, Initiates have arranged at various places Dar-Kosis Pits where the Afflicted may voluntarily imprison themselves, to be fed with food hurled downwards from the backs of passing tarns. Once in a Dar-Kosis Pit, the Afflicted are not allowed to depart. Finding this poor fellow in the Voltai, so far from the natural routes and fertile areas of Gor, I suspected he might have escaped, if that was possible, from one of the Pits.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"I am of the Afflicted," said the weird, cringing figure. "The Afflicted are dead. The dead are nameless." The voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
I was glad that it was night and that the hood of the man was drawn, for I had no desire to look on what pieces of flesh might still cling to his skull.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 151 | Chapter: 13:17-20

"Do you know, Tarnsman," he asked, "that there is no justice without the sword?" He smiled down on me grimly. "This is a terrible truth," he said, "and so consider it carefully." He paused. "Without this, he said, touching the blade, there is nothing - no justice, no civilization, no society, no community, no peace. Without the sword there is nothing."
....
Marlenus was patient. "Before the sword," he said, "there is no right, no wrong, only fact - a world of what is and what is not, rather than a world of what should be and should not be. There is no justice until the sword creates it, establishes it, guarantees it, gives it substance and significance." He lifted the weapon, wielding the heavy metal blade as though it were a straw. "First the sword -" he said, "then government - then law - then justice."
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 155-156 | Chapter: 14:16-20

Without realizing what I was doing, I had shaken the two restraining tarnsmen from my arms as if they had been children, and I rushed on Marlenus and struck him violently in the face with my fist, causing him to reel backward, his face contorted with astonishment and pain.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 157 | Chapter: 14:42

"well done, youg warrior," acclaimed Marlenus. "I thought I would see if you would die like a slave." He addressed his men, pointing to me. "What say you?" he laughed. "Has this warrior not earned his right to the tarn death?"
"He has indeed," said one of the tarnsmen, who held a wadded lump of tunic over his slashed rib cage.
I was dragged outside, and binding fiber was fastened to my wrists and ankles. The loose ends of the fiber were then attached by broad leather straps to two tarns, one of them my own sable giant.
"You will be torn to pieces," said Marlenus. "Not pleasant, but better than impalement."
I was fastened securely. A tarnsman mounted one tarn; another tarnsman mounted the other tarn.
....
"No man can escape the tarn death," said one of the men.
....
"The tarn death is an ugly death."
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 158-159 | Chapter: 14:45-55

With a sickening lurch and sharp jolt of pain the two tarnsmen brought their birds into the air. For a moment I swung between the birds, and then, perhaps a hundred feet in the air, the tarnsmen, at a prearranged signal - a sharp blast of a tarn whistle from the ground - turned their birds in opposite directions. The sudden wrenching pain seemed to rip my body. I think I inadvertently screamed. The birds were pulling against one another, stabilized in their flight, each trying to pull away from the other. Now and again there would be a moment's giddy respite from the pain as one or the other of birds failed to keep the ropes taut. I could hear the curses of the tarnsmen above me and saw once or twice the flash of the striking tarn-goad. Then the birds would throw their weight again on the ropes, bringing another flashing wrench of agony.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 160 | Chapter: 14:66

...his small eyes fastened to the red and yellow squares of the board. .... one of the pieces of the hundred-squared board, a centered Tarnsman. He touched it, committing himself to moving it. A brief exchange followed, like a chain reaction, neither man considering his moves for a moment, First Tarnsman took First Tarnsman, Second Spearman responded by neutralizing First Tarnsman, City neutralized Spearman, Assassin took City, Assassin fell to Second Tarnsman, Tarnsman to Spear Slave, Spear Slave to Spear Slave.
Mintar relaxed on the cushions. "You have taken the City," he said, "but not the Home Stone." His eyes gleamed with pleasure. "I permitted that, in order that I might capture the Spear Slave. Let us now adjudicate the game. The Spear Slave gives me the point I need, a small point but decisive."
Marlenus smiled, rather grimly. "But position must figure in any adjudication," he said. Then, with an imperious gesture, Marlenus swept his Ubarinto the file opened by the movement of Mintar's capturing Spear Slave. It covered the Home Stone.
Mintar bowed his head in mock ceremony, a wry smile on his fat face, and with one short finger delicately tipped his own Ubar, causing it to fall.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 169-170 | Chapter: 15:37-40

"Though you are of the Merchant Caste, you are a brave man."
"A merchant may be as brave as a warrior, young Tarnsman," smiled Mintar.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 175 | Chapter: 15:103-104

It began several hours before dawn, as the giant siege towers, covered now with plates of steel to counter the effect of fire arrows and burning tar, were slowly rolled across the ditch bridges. By noon they were within crossbow range of the walls. After dark, in the light of torches, the first tower reached the walls. Within the hour three others had touched the first wall. Around these towers and on top of them warriors swarmed. Above them, tarnsman met tarnsman in battles to the death. Rope ladders from Ar brought defenders two hundred feet down the wall to the level of the towers. Through small postern gates other defenders rushed against the towers on the ground, only to be met by Pa-Kur’s clustered support troops. From the height of the walls, some two hundred feet above the towers, missiles would be fired and stones cast. Within the towers, sweating, naked siege slaves, under the frenzied whips of their overseers, hauled on the great chains that swung the mighty steel rams into the wall and back.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 178 | Chapter: 16:7

Then, in accord with the rude bridal customs of Gor, as she furiously but playfully struggled, as she squirmed and protested and pretended to resist, I bound her bodily across the saddle of the tarn. Her wrists and ankles were secured, and she lay before me, arched over the saddle, helpless, a captive, but of love and her own free will. The warriors laughed, Marlenus the loudest. "It seems I belong to you, bold Tarnsman," she said, "What are you going to do with me?" In answer, I hauled on the one-strap and the great bird rose into the air, higher and higher, even into the clouds, and she cried to me, "Let it be now, Tarl," and even before we had passed the outermost ramparts of Ar, I had untied her ankles and flung her single garment to the streets below, to show her people what had been the fate of the daughter of their Ubar.
Tarnsman of Gor pgs: 213-214 | Chapter: 19:85

The tarn-goad is a rodlike instrument, about twenty inches long. It has a switch in the handle, much like an ordinary flashlight. When the goad is switched to the on-position and it strikes an object, it emits a violent shock and scatters a shower of yellow sparks. It is used for controlling tarns, the gigantic hawklike saddle-birds of Gor. Indeed, the birds are conditioned to respond to the goad almost from the egg.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 23-24 | Chapter: 2:26

The tarn-whistle, as one might expect, is used to summon the bird. Usually, the most highly trained tarns will respond to only one note, that sounded by the whistle of their master. There is nothing surprising in this inasmuch as each bird is trained, by the Caste of Tarn Keepers, to respond to a different note. When the tarn is presented to a warrior, or sold to one, the whistle accompanies the bird. Needless to say, the whistle is important and carefully guarded, for, should it be lost or fall into the hands of an enemy, the warrior has, for all practical purposes, lost his mount.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 24 | Chapter: 2:27

I knew no tarn would fly into the mountains. For some reason neither the fearless hawklike tarns, nor the slow-witted tharlarions, the draft and riding lizards of Gor, would enter the mountains. The tharlarions become unmanageable and though the tarn will essay the flight the bird almost immediately becomes disoriented, uncoordinated, and drops screaming back to the plains below.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 48 | Chapter: 6:5

...the fearless hawklike tarns...
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 48 | Chapter: 6:5

...a young tarnsman's first missions is often the capture of a slave for his personal quarters. When he brings home his captive, bound naked across the saddle of his tarn, he giver her over, rejoicing, to his sisters, to be bathed, perfumed and clothed in the brief slave livery of Gor.
That night, at a great feast, he displays the captive, now suitably attired by his sisters in the diaphanous, scarlet dancing silks of Gor. Bells have been strapped to her ankles, and she is bound in slave bracelets. Proudly, he presents her to his parents, his friends and warrior comrades.
Then, to the festive music of flutes and drums, the girl kneels. The young man approaches her, bearing a slave collar, its engraving proclaiming his name and city. The music grows more intense, mounting to an overpowering, barbaric crescendo, which stops suddenly, abruptly. The room is silent, absolutely silent, except for the decisive click of the collar lock.
It is a sound the girl will never forget.
As soon as the lock closes, there is a great shout congratulating, saluting the young man. He returns to his place among the tables that line the low-ceilinged chamber, hung with glowing brass lamps. He sits in the middle of his family, his closest well-wishers, his sword comrades, cross-legged on the floor in the Gorean fashion behind the long, low wooden table, laden with food, which stands at the head of the room.
Now all eyes are on the girl.
The restraining slave bracelets are removed. She rises. Her feet are bare on the thick, ornately wrought rug that carpets the chamber. There is a slight sound from the bells strapped to her ankles. She is angry, defiant. Though she is clad only in the almost transparent scarlet dancing silks of Gor, her back is straight, her head high. She is determined not to be tamed, not to submit, and her proud carriage bespeaks this fact. The spectators seem amused. She glares at them. Angrily she looks from face to face. There is no one she knows, or could know, because she has been taken from a hostile city, she is a woman of the enemy. Fists clenched, she stands in the center of the room, alone, all eyes upon her, beautiful in the light of the hanging lamps.
She faces the young man, wearing his collar.
"You will never tame me!" she cries.
Her outburst provokes laughter, skeptical observations, some good-natured hooting.
"I will tame you at my pleasure," replies the young man, and signals to the musicians.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 51-53 | Chapter: 6:27-37

Something of the nature of the institution of capture, and the Gorean's attitude toward it becomes clear when it is understood that one of a young tarnsman's first missions is often the capture of a slave for his personal quarters. When he brings home his captive, bound naked across the saddle of his tarn, he giver her over, rejoicing, to his sisters, to be bathed, perfumed and clothed in the brief slave livery of Gor.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 51 | Chapter: 6:27

There is no marriage, as we know it, on Gor, but there is the institution of the Free Companionship, which is its nearest correspondent. Surprisingly enough, a woman who is bought from her parents, for tarns or gold, is regarded as a Free Companion, even though she may not have been consulted in the transaction. More commendably, a free woman may herself, of her own free will, agree to be such a companion. And it is not unusual for a master to free one of his slave girls in order that she may share the full privileges of Free Companionship. One may have, at a given time, an indefinite number of slaves, but only one Free Companion. Such relationships are not entered into lightly, and they are normally sundered only by death. Occasionally the Gorean, like his brothers in our world, perhaps even more frequently, learns the meaning of love.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 54 | Chapter: 6:42

The purpose, incidentally, of the brief garment of the female slave is not simply to mark out the girl in bondage but, in exposing her charms, to make her, rather than her free sister, the favored object of raids on the part of roving tarnsmen. Whereas there is status in the capture of a free woman, there is less risk in the capture of a slave; the pursuit is never pressed as determinedly in their cases, and one does not have to imperil one's life for a girl who might, once the Robes of Concealment have been caste off, turn out to have the face of an urt and the temper of a sleen.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 66-67 | Chapter: 8:7

"You will be dead soon enough," he said, stammering on the words. "A hundred tarnsmen have tried to mount this beast, and one hundred tarnsmen have died. The Tatrix decreed it is only to be used in the Amusements, to feed on sleen like you."
"Unhood it," I commanded. "Free it!"
The man looked at me as though I might have been insane. To be sure, my exuberance astonished even me. Warriors with spears rushed forward, forcing me back, away from the tarn.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 121

Lara, the Tatrix, straightened in my arms. “I do not find the terms satisfactory,” she said. “Give him in addition to what he asks, the weight of ten tarns in gold, two rooms of silver and a hundred helmets filled with jewels.”
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 143

I knew that I didn't have a great deal of time, for the avenging tarnsmen of Tharna would soon be visible against the three moons.
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 175

"Chronology in Ar is figured, happily enough, not from its Administrator Lists, but from its mythical founding by the first man on Gor, a hero whom the Priest-Kings are said to have formed from the mud of the earth and the blood of tarns. Times is reckoned 'Constanta Ar', or 'from the founding of Ar.' The year, according to the calendar of Ar, if it is of interest, is 10,117. Actually I would suppose that Ar may not be a third of that age. Its Home Stone, however, which I have seen, attests to a considerable antiquity."
Outlaw of Gor pgs: 179

Beyond the Sullage and the bosk steak there was the flat rounded loaf of the yellow Sa-Tarna bread. The meal was completed by a handful of grapes and a draught of water from the wall tap. The grapes were purple and, I suppose, Ta grapes from the lower vineyards of the terraced island of Cos some four hundred pasangs from Port Kar. I had tasted some only once before, having been introduced to them in a feast given in my honour by Lara, who was Tatrix of the city of Tharna. If they were indeed Ta grapes I supposed they must have come by galley from Cos to Port Kar, and from Port Kar to the Fair of En'Kara. Port Kar and Cos are hereditary enemies, but such traditions would not be likely to preclude some profitable smuggling. But perhaps they were not Ta grapes for Cos was far distant, and even if carried by tarns, the grapes would probably not seem so fresh. I dismissed the matter from my mind. I wondered why there was only water to drink, and none of the fermented beverages of Gor, such as Paga, Ka-la-na wine or Kal-da. I was sure that if these were available Vika would have set them before me. I looked at her. She had not prepared herself a portion but, after I had been served, had knelt silently to one side, back on her heels in the position of a Tower Slave, a slave to whom largely domestic duties would be allotted in the Gorean apartment cylinders.
Priest Kings of Gor pgs: 45

If the issue was grain, of course, there would be little point in going to Thentis, for she imports her own, but her primary wealth, her tarn flocks, is not negligible, and she also possesses silver, though her mines are not as rich as those of Tharna. Perhaps Treve has never attacked Thentis because she, too, is a mountain city, lying in the Mountains of Thentis, or more likely because the men of Treve respect her tarnsmen almost as much as they do their own.
Priest Kings of Gor pgs: 62 | Chapter: 8:85

In the distance we heard a sound like a thunder of wings and then, against the three white moons of Gor, to my dismay, we saw tarnsmen pass overhead, striking toward the camp.
Nomads of Gor pgs: 177

"Game! Game!" I heard, and quickly shook my head, driving away the memories of Ar, and the girl once known, always loved. The word actually cried was, "Kaissa," which is Gorean for "Game." It is a general term, but when used without qualification, it stands for only one game, The man who called out wore a robe of checkered red and yellow squares, and the game board, of similar squares, with ten ranks and ten files, giving a hundred squares, hung over his back; slung over his left shoulder, as a warrior wears a sword, was a leather bag containing the pieces, twenty to a side, red and yellow, representing Spearmen, Tarnsmen, the Riders of the High Tharlarion, and so on. The object of the game is the capture of the opponent's Home Stone. Capturing of individual pieces and continuations take place much as in chess. The affinities of this game with chess are, I am confident more than incidental.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 26

The Players are not a caste, nor a clan, but they tend to be a group apart, living their own lives. They are made up from men of various castes who often have little in common but the game, but that is more than enough. They are men who commonly have an extraordinary aptitude for the game but beyond this men who have become drunk on it, men lost in the subtle, abstract liquors of variation, pattern and victory, men who live for the game, who want it and need it as other men might want gold, or others power and women, of others the rolled, narcotic strings of the toxic kanda. There are competitions of Players, with purses provided by amateur organizations, and sometimes by the city itself, and these purses are, upon occasion, enough to enrich a man, but most Players earn a miserable living by hawking their wares, a contest with a master, in the street. The odds are usually one to forty, one copper tarn disk against forty-piece, sometimes against an eighty-piece, and sometimes the amateur who would play the master insists on further limitations, such as the option to three consecutive moves at a point in the game of his choice, or that the master must remove from the board, before the game begins, his two tarnsmen, or his Riders of the High Tharlarion. Further, in order to gain Players, the master, if wise, occasionally loses a game, which is expensive at normal odds; and the game must be lost subtly, that the amateur must believe he has won.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 27

On the other side of the belt, there hung a slave goad, rather like the tarn goad, except that it is designed to be used as an instrument for the control of human beings rather than tarns. It was, like the tarn goad, developed jointly by the Caste of Physicians and that of the Builders, the Physicians contributing knowledge of the pain fibers of human beings, the networks of nerve endings, and the Builders contributing certain principles and techniques developed in the construction and manufacture of energy bulbs. Unlike the tarn goad which has a simple on-off switch in the handle, the slave goad works with both a switch and a dial, and the intensity of the charge administered can be varied from an infliction which is only distinctly unpleasant to one which is instantly lethal.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 84

The tarns were, of course, racing tarns, a bird in many ways quite different from the common tarns of Gor, or the war tarns. The differences among these tarns are not simply in the training, which does differ, but in size, strength, build and tendencies of the bird. Some tarns are bred primarily for strength and are used in transporting wares by carrying basket. Usually these birds fly more slowly and are less vicious than the war tarns or racing tarns. The war tarns, of course, are bred for both strength and speed, but also for agility, swiftness of reflex, and combative instincts. War tarns, whose talons are shod with steel, tend to be extremely dangerous birds, even more so than other tarns, none of whom could be regarded as fully domesticated. The racing tarn, interestingly, is and extremely light bird; two men can lift one; even its beak is narrower and lighter than the common tarn or war tarn; its wings are commonly broader and shorter than those of other tarns, permitting a swifter take off..."
Assassin of Gor pgs: 143-144

The Tarn Keeper, who was called by those in the tavern Mip, bought the food, bosk steak and yellow bread, peas and Torian olives, and two golden-brown, starchy Suls, broken open and filled with melted bosk cheese. I bought the Paga, and several times we refilled our cups. Mip was a chipper fellow, and a bit dapper considering his caste and his close-cropped hair, for his brown leather was shot with green streaks, and he wore a Tarn Keeper's cap with a greenish tassel; most Tarn Keepers, incidentally, crop their hair short, as do most Metal Workers; work in the tarncots and in training tarns is often hard, sweaty work.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 168

Near the pit of sand several slave girls, dancers, in Pleasure Silk were kneeling back on their heels and clapping their hands with glee. In the pit of sand one of the guards, utterly drunk, was performing a ship dance, the movement of his legs marvelously suggesting the pitch and roll of a deck, his hands moving as though climbing ropes, then hauling rope, then splicing and knotting it. I knew he had been of Port Kar. He was a cutthroat but there were drunken tears in his eyes as he hoped about, pantomiming the work of one of the swift galleys. It is said that men once having seen Thassa are never willing to leave it again, that those who have left the sea are never again truly happy. A moment later another guard leaped into the pit of sand and to the amusement of the girls, began a dance of larl hunters, joined by two or three others, in a file, dancing the stalking of the beasts, the confrontation, the kill.
The man who had been dancing the ship dance, had now left the pit of sand, and, over against one wall, in the shadows of the torchlight, largely unnoted, danced alone, danced for himself the memories of gleaming Thassa and the swift black ships, the Tarns of the Sea, as the galleys of Port Kar are known.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 240

The tarn, the great, fierce saddlebird of Gor, is a savage beast, a monster predator of the high, blue skies of this harsh world; at best it is scarce half domesticated; even tarnsmen seldom approach them without weapons and tarn-goad; it is regarded madness to approach one that is feeding; the instincts of the tarn, like those of many predators, are to protect and defend a kill, to the death; Tarn Keepers, with their goads and training wires, have lost their lives with even young birds, trying to alter or correct this covetousness of its quarry; the winged majestic carnivores of Gor, her tarns, do not care to share their kills, until perhaps they have gorged their fill and carry then remnants of their repast to the encliffed nests of the Thentis or Voltai Ranges, there to drop meat into the gaping beaks of white tarnlings, the size of ponies.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 352

The small bow, interestingly, has never been used among tarnsmen. . .
Assassin of Gor pgs: 365

The tarnsman commonly carries, strapped to the saddle, a Gorean spear, a fearsome weapon, but primarily a missile weapon, and one more adopted to infantry.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 366

I thought of the magnificent Marlenus, swift, brilliant, decisive, stubborn, vain, proud, a master swordsman, a tarnsman, a leader like a larl among men, always to those of Ar the Ubar of Ubars. I knew that men would, and had, deserted the Home Stone of their own city to follow him into disgrace and exile, preferring outlawry and the mountains to the securities of citizenship and their city, asking only that they be permitted to ride beside him, to lift their swords in his name.
Assassin of Gor pgs: 389

I had been given the thousand double tarns of gold for the victory in the Ubar’s race. I saw Flaminius briefly in the room of the court. Eight hundred double tarns I gave to him that he might begin well his research once more.
“Press your own battles,” said I, “Physician.”
“My gratitude,” said he, “Warrior.”
“Will there be many who will work with you?” I asked, remembering the dangers of his research, the enmity of the Initiates.
“Some,” said Flaminius. “Already some eight, of skill and repute, have pledged themselves my aids in this undertaking.” He looked at me. “And the first, who gave courage to them all,” said he, “was a woman, of the Caste of Physicians, once of Treve.”
“A woman named Vika?” I asked.
“Yes,” said he, “do you know her?”
“Once,” said I.
“She stands high among the Physicians of the city,” he said.
“You will find her, I think,” I said, “brilliantly worthy as a colleague in your work.”
Assassin of Gor pgs: 398

I sing the siege of Ar, of gleaming Ar.
I sing the spears and walls of Ar, of Glorious Ar.
In the long years past of the siege of the city the siege of Ar of her spires and towers of undaunted Ar, Glorious Ar. I sing.
I sing of dark-haired Talena of the rage of Marlenus Ubar of Ar, Glorious Ar.
And of he I sing whose hair was like a larl from the sun of he who came once to the walls of Ar, Glorious Ar , he called Tarl of Bristol.

And, as the torches burned lower in the wall racks, the singer continued to sing, and sang of gray Pa-Kur, Master of the Assassins, leader of the hordes that fell on Ar after the theft of her Home Stone; and he sang, too, of banners and black helmets, of upraised standards, of the sun flashing on the lifted blades of spears, of high siege towers and deeds, of catapults of Ka-la-na and tem-wood, of the thunder of war tharlarion and the beatings of drums and the roars of trumpets, the clash of arms and the cries of men; and he sang, too, of the love of men for their city, and, foolishly, knowing so little of men, he sang, too, the bravery of men, and their loyalties and their courage; and he sang then, too, of duels; of duels fought even on the walls of Ar herself, even at the great gate; and of tarnsmen locked in duels to the death over the spires of Ar; and yet another duel, one fought on the height of Ar's cylinder of justice, between Pak-Kur, and he, in the song, called Tarl of Bristol.
Raiders of Gor pgs: 225-226

The tarn can scarcely be taken from the sight of land. Even driven by tarn goads he will rebel. These tarns had been hooded. Whereas their instincts apparently tend to keep them within the sight of land, I did not know what would be the case if they were unhooded at sea, and there was no land to be found. Perhaps they would not leave the ship. Perhaps they would go mad with rage or fear. I knew tarns had destroyed riders who had attempted to ride them out over Thassa from the shore. But I hoped that the tarns, finding themselves out of the sight of land, might accommodate themselves to the experience. I was hoping that, in the strange intelligence of animals, it would be the departure from land, and not the mere positioning of being out of the sight of land, that would be counter-instinctual for the great birds.
Raiders of Gor pgs: 273-274

Soon, behind me, there were some hundred tarnsmen, and below each, dangling, hanging to the knotted ropes, were five picked men.
Raiders of Gor pgs: 275

Rask of Treve, as a raider true to the codes of Treve, that hidden coign of tarnsmen, that remote, secret, mountainous city of the vast, scarlet Voltai range, had not, in these circumstances, much pushed pursuit.
Captive of Gor pgs: 190

"Lie before me, on your back," he said, "and cross your wrists and ankles."
Terribly afraid of falling, I did so.
He bent across my body and I felt my crossed wrists lashed to a saddle ring. He then bent to the other side and, in moments, I felt my crossed ankles lashed to another ring.
I lay there on my back before him, my body a bow, bound helplessly across his saddle.
He slapped my belly twice.
He then laughed another great laugh, that great raw laugh, that of a tarnsman, who has his prize bound helpless before him.
Captive of Gor pgs: 252-253 | Chapter: 13:384-389

. . .his sword dangling from its wrist strap, commonly used by tarnsmen in flight. . .
Captive of Gor pgs: 259

When I reached the women's tent, I flung myself down on its rugs and wept.
Ena, who had been sewing a talmit, a headband sometimes worn by tarnsmen in flight, came to me. "What is wrong?" she said.
Captive of Gor pgs: 275

I wore the long, scarlet garment, hooded, sleeveless. My hands were bound behind my back with binding fiber. "Remove her bonds," said Rask of Treve. In his belt I saw that he had thrust an eighteen-inch strip of binding fiber. It was not jeweled. It was about three quarters of an inch in thickness; it was of flat, supple leather, plain and brown, of the sort commonly used by tarnsmen for binding female prisoners.
Captive of Gor pgs: 282

Behind the kitchen shed, I was ironing. To one side there was a large pile of laundered work tunics, which I had washed in the early morning. The smooth board was set before me, mounted on two wooden blocks. A bowl of water was nearby, and a fire, over which, on an iron plate fixed on stones, there were, heating, five, small, flat-bottomed, rounded, wooden-handled Gorean irons. I had been kneeling before the board, ironing the tunics, which I would then fold and place to one side. Behind the kitchen shed, I had not been able to see the alighting of the tarns. I could hear, however, the delighted cries of the girls and the loud, warm, answering shouts of the men.
I heard one of the girls cry out, "How beautiful she is!"
I supposed a new female had been brought to the camp.
Angrily I pressed one of the hot irons down on a work tunic, smoothing it.
I must remain behind the kitchen shed, working, while they were permitted to greet the men! I wondered if Inge would be there, perhaps smiling and waving to Rask of Treve.
How furious I was!
But I reminded myself that I hated him!
In time the excitement, the cries and shouts, diminished, and I knew the men had dismounted, and any captive, perhaps bound, would have been sent to the tent of the women. The girls, here and there, returned to their labors.
I continued to iron.
About a quarter of an Ahn later, kneeling behind the board, ironing, I became aware of someone standing before me. I saw a pair of slim, tanned ankles. I lifted my eyes and saw slender, strong, tanned legs. And then, to my horror, the brief, tawny garment of a panther girl. And in the belt of the garment there was thrust a sleen knife. She wore barbaric ornaments of gold. I lifted my eyes to this tall, strong, beautifully figured female.
I put down my head, crying out in misery.
...
"I know little of such work," said Verna, "but are you not in danger of scorching the garment which you are ironing?"
I hastily drew away the iron, placing it on the fire-heated plate.
Fortunately the garment was not marked, else Ute, discovering it, might have punished me.
"Permit me, Verna," said Rask of Treve, "to show you the rest of the camp."
Verna looked down upon me. "Continue with your work, Slave," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
Then, together, Verna and Rask of Treve left me. Weeping, I continued to iron.
Captive of Gor pgs: 295-297

Lydius is one of the few cities of the north which has public baths, as in Ar and Turia, though much smaller and less opulent.
It is a port of paradoxes, where one finds, strangely mingled, luxuries and gentilities of the south with the simplicities and rudeness of the less civilized north. It is not unusual to encounter a fellow with a jacket of sleen fur, falling to his knees, sewn in the circle stitch of Scagnar, who wears upon his forehead a silken headband of Ar. He might carry a double-headed ax, but at his belt may hang a Turian dagger. He might speak in the accents of Tyros, but startle you with his knowledge of the habits of wild tarns, knowledge one would expect to find only in one of Thentis. Those of Lydius pretend to much civilization, and are fond of decorating their houses, commonly of wood, with high, pointed roofs, in manners they think typical of Ar, of Ko-ro-ba, of Tharna and Turia, but to settle points of honor they commonly repair to a skerry in Thassa, little more than forty feet wide, there to meet opponents with axes, in the manner of those of Torvaldsland.
Hunters of Gor pgs: 45 | Chapter: 3

"She opened her eyes, and shook her head. What is this? she said. Capture scent, I said." ..."Shall I hold again the vial beneath her nose? I asked. Soaked in a rag and scarf and held over the nose and mouth of a female it can render her unconscious in five Ihn. She squirmed wildly for an Ihn or two, and then sluggishly, and then falls limp. It is sometimes used by tarnsmen; it is often used by slavers. Anesthetic dart, too are sometimes used in the taking of female; these maybe flung, or entered into the body by hand; they take effect in about forty Ihn; she awakens often, in a slave kennel."
Maurauders of Gor pgs: 115-116

They wore gray helmets, with crests of the hair of larls and sleen. Their leather told me they were tarnsmen.
Slave Girl of Gor pgs: 272

Similarly, free women will almost never touch the garment of a slave. They would be scandalized to do so. Such garments are just too sexually exciting. On the other hand, there have been cases when a free woman, boldly, has donned such a garment and dared to walk in the streets and upon the bridges, masquerading as a mere slave upon an errand for her master. She will not be recognized for, commonly, when she goes out, she is veiled.
On the streets, now, of course, she will be taken for only another slave. She revels in this new-found freedom; she exults in the bold appraisals to which she now finds herself subjected, those which free men may fittingly bestow upon a slave; she inclines her head submissively as she passes free men; should they stop her, perhaps to question her, or inquire after directions, she falls to her knees before them; then, later, aroused, excited, trembling, breathless, she returns to her home and enters her compartment, perhaps there to throw herself on her couch, to bite and tear at the coverlets, sobbing with unrelieved passion.
The excursions of such women, commonly, grow more bold. Perhaps they take to walking the high bridges, under the Gorean moons. Perhaps they fall to the noose of a passing tarnsman. Perhaps they attract the attention of a visiting slaver. His men receive their orders. She is brought to him and subjected to rude assessments. If she is found sufficiently comely she is gagged and hooded, and slave iron is locked upon her body. When this caravan leaves the city she is carried away with it, another girl, another piece of merchandise, in chains, bound for a distant market, and a master.
One of the most interesting examples of such a case occurred in Venna some years ago, in the vicinity of the Stadium of Tharlarion, where tharlarion races are held. Several young men captured for their sex sport what they took to be a slave girl, and thrust her, gagged, her hands bound behind her, into the corner of one of the giant tharlarion stables behind the stadium. They discovered only after her thorough and lengthy raping and their own apprehension that they had been lavishing their predatory attentions not upon a slave but upon a young and beautiful free female who had been masquerading as a slave. Obviously the case was complex. The decision of the judge was generally regarded as judicious. The young men were banished from the city. Outside the gate, lying in the dust of the road leading from Venna, bound hand and foot, was the girl. She was clad in the rag of a slave. The young men were seen leaving the vicinity of the city leading the girl behind them, her hands bound behind her, on a neck-rope.
Guardsman of Gor pgs: 184-185

I saw the creatures mounted on the tarns, silhouetted against one of Gor's three moons, fleeing over the marshes.
Savages of Gor pgs: 55

“I was thinking of when I was a free woman,” she said. “How contemptuous I was of the slave girls in the cities, how I scorned them, and despised them, so helpless in their lowly, silken slaveries, and yet, now, how I envy them their slaveries!”
“What lucky, soft little things they are,” she said, “being sold naked off sales blocks to the whips and chains of strong masters, with little more to worry about than the heat of the kitchens, the steaming water of the laundering tubs, the dangers, from young, prowling ruffians, of shopping in the evening! How warm and safe they are locked in their kennels at night or cuddling, in furs, chained at the foot of their masters’ couches! What need have they to fear sleen and tarns! They need fear only their masters!”
Blood Brothers of Gor pgs: 333

I had seen Ar at various times before. Such a sight I was accustomed to. It would not move me, as it might others, the first time to look upon it.
'Incredible' said a man.
'Marvelous!' said another.
'I had not realised how vast was the city' said one of the men.
'It is large' said another fellow.
'There is the central cylinder' said a man pointing.
The high uprearing walls of the city some hundred feet or more in height stretched into the distance. They were now white. We could see a great gate too and the main road leading to it the Viktel Aria. Within the gamut of those walls, so lofty and mighty, rose thousands of buildings, and a veritable forest of ascendant towers, of diverse heights and colours. Many of thesetowers, I knew were joined by traceries of soaring bridges, set at different levels. I did not forget the house of Cernus, the stadium of tarns, the stadium of blades. I had not forgotten the streets, the baths, the shops, the broadnoble avenues, with their fountains, the narrow twisting streets, little more than darkened corridors,shieded from the sun of the lower districts...
Mercenaries of Gor pgs: 255-255

The fishermen had a net with them, doubtless brought up from their small boat in the harbor. Such devices are rich in war uses. They can discommode scalers and grapnel crews. They can block passages. From behind them one may conveniently thrust pikes and discharge missiles. In the field they may serve as foundations for camouflage, for example, effecting concealments from tarnsmen. . .Nets, too, of course, are used at sea in the repulsion of boarders.
Renegades of Gor pgs: 282-283