Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Es-sat smiled. It was the smile of a strong and wicked man who knows
his power--not a pleasant smile at all. "I will leave, Pan-at-lee," he
said; "but you shall go with me--to the cave of Es-sat, the chief, to
be the envied of the shes of Kor-ul-JA. Come!"
"Never!" cried Pan-at-lee. "I hate you. Sooner would I mate with a
Ho-don than with you, beater of women, murderer of babes."
A frightful scowl distorted the features of the chief. "She-JATO!" he
cried. "I will tame you! I will break you! Es-sat, the chief, takes
what he will and who dares question his right, or combat his least
purpose, will first serve that purpose and then be broken as I break
this," and he picked a stone platter from the table and broke it in his
powerful hands. "You might have been first and most favored in the cave
of the ancestors of Es-sat; but now shall you be last and least and
when I am done with you you shall belong to all of the men of Es-sat's
cave. Thus for those who spurn the love of their chief!"
He advanced quickly to seize her and as he laid a rough hand upon her
she struck him heavily upon the side of his head with her golden
breastplates. Without a sound Es-sat, the chief, sank to the floor of
the apartment. For a moment Pan-at-lee bent over him, her improvised
weapon raised to strike again should he show signs of returning
consciousness, her glossy breasts rising and falling with her quickened
breathing. Suddenly she stooped and removed Es-sat's knife with its
scabbard and shoulder belt. Slipping it over her own shoulder she
quickly adjusted her breastplates and keeping a watchful glance upon
the figure of the fallen chief, backed from the room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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