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Then somewhat to his momentary embarrassment the wind shifted again and the smoke began to blow away from the Sardar and out towards the crowd. Perhaps the priest-kings are exhaling now, I thought to myself, but the High Initiate had had more practice in the interpretation of signs than myself. "See!" he cried. "Now the priest-kings blow the breath of my sacrifice as a blessing upon you, letting it travel to the ends of Gor to speak of their wisdom and mercy!" There was a great cry of joy from the crowd and shouts of gratitude to the priest-kings. I had hoped that I might have used those moments, that priceless opportunity, before the men of Gor realized the restoration of gravity and normal conditions was occurring, to command them to give up their warlike ways and turn to the pursuit of peace and brotherhood, but the moment, before I realized it, had been stolen from me by the High Initiate of Ar, and used for his own purposes. Now, as the crowd rejoiced and began to disband, I knew that I was no longer important, that I was only another indication of the mercy of priest-kings, that someone—who had it been?—had returned from the Sardar. At that moment I suddenly realized I was ringed by Initiates. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter )