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Indeed, as I thought of the cruel Tatrix, of what she had done, I wondered if, in fact, I should not take her to Ar and dispose of her on the Street of Brands. - (Outlaw of Gor, Chapter 15, Sentence #178)

"No, no, no," she whimpered, and her tortured body refused to sustain her any longer. She crumpled piteously against the wall, weeping. This was more than I had counted on, and I had to resist an urge to comfort her, to tell her that I would not hurt her, that she was safe, but, mindful of Linna and Andreas, and the poor wretches in the Amusements, I restrained my compassion. Indeed, as I thought of the cruel Tatrix, of what she had done, I wondered if, in fact, I should not take her to Ar and dispose of her on the Street of Brands. Surely she would be more harmless in the Pleasure Gardens of a tarnsman than on the throne of Tharna. "Warrior," she said, her head lifting piteously, "must you exact so terrible a vengeance on me?" I smiled to myself. It sounded now as though the Tatrix might bargain. - (Outlaw of Gor)