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At last, bleeding and scarcely able to whine, Hup curled himself into a small, trembling ball, his head between his legs, his hands holding his ankles. The four men, then having him between them in the pit of sand, kicked him again and again. Then the large man with missing teeth seized Hup's hair and pulled up the head, to expose the throat, holding in his right hand a small, thick, curved blade, the hook knife of Ar, used sheathed in the sport of that name, but the knife was not now sheathed. The eyes of tiny Hup were screwed shut, his body shivering like that of an urt clenched in the teeth of a sleen. "Keep him on the sand!" warned the proprietor of the tavern. He with the missing teeth laughed and looked about the crowd, his eyes bright, seeing that they waited with eagerness for his stroke. But his laugh died in his throat as he looked into the eyes of Kuurus, he of the Caste of Assassins. - (Assassin of Gor, Chapter )