But he still kept his hand on the switch set in the arm of the riding-chair.
Bleak, watchful, Haral brought the hwalon to a halt in the lee of the wall nearest the arena. With the casualness of long habit, he surveyed the crowd, the ground, the disposition of Sark's forces.
In the same instant, he caught himself wondering whether Sark would laugh as loud by the time this day was done.
Or whether either he or Sark would live to laugh.
He smiled wryly.
But now, for the time, the raider's mirth had passed. A sudden air of suppressed tension came into his manner. His fleshy hand came up in a curt, peremptory gesture.
Instantly, two leering reptilian Pervods from his crews dragged forward another victim.
But this time their prey was no quaking Ulno.
Instead, they held a woman.
A taut, furious excitement surged up within Haral. He sucked in air; leaned forward, gripping the hwalon's saddle hard between his knees.