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They were approaching. Their outriders would soon be in sight. I hung my helmet over my left shoulder with the sheathed short sword; on my left arm I bore my shield; in my right hand I carried the Gorean war spear. I began to walk toward the dust in the distance, across the trembling ground. I Make the Acquaintance of the Wagon Peoples As I walked I asked myself why I did so—why I, Tarl Cabot—once of Earth, later a warrior of the Gorean city of Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning, had come here. In the long years that had passed since first I had come to the Counter-Earth I had seen many things, and had known loves, and had found adventures and perils and wonders, but I asked myself if anything I had done was as unreasoning, as foolish as this, as strange. Some years before, perhaps between two and five years before, as the culmination of an intrigue enduring centuries, two men, humans from the walled cities of Gor, had, for the sake of Priest-Kings, undertaken a long, secret journey, carrying an object to the Wagon Peoples, an object bestowed on them by Priest-Kings, to be given to that people that was, to the Goreans' knowledge, the most free, among the fiercest, among the most isolated on the planet—an object that would be given to them for safekeeping. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter )