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As I climbed the ladder I was glad that the old blade, the familiar steel, with its memories of another life and time, when I had been Tarl Cabot, was at my side. If one must die, how could one better die than with such a blade in hand? * * * * We fought on the height of the keep. The last four arrows of the great yellow bow were fired, and four who threatened us fell from the delta wall beyond the keep, from which they were attempting to cover the climb of the besiegers. Standing even on the mantelets under the tarn wire, with spears and swords, we thrust at the tarnsmen dropping to the wire, letting go of the ropes to which they had clung. We heard grappling irons with knotted ropes fly over the parapet, scrape across the stones, and wedge in the crenels. We heard the striking against the walls of the keep of siege poles, like ladders with a single upright, rungs tied transversely on the single axis. We heard the trumpets of the attack, the running feet, the climbing, the clashing of weapons, the shouting of men. - (Raiders of Gor)