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Eleven times I, and others, had been invited, in the dawn, in the square before the Central Cylinder, or in one park or another, to witness his games. Often his victim, provoked to accept a challenge, would have been guilty of little more than entering a portal before him, or brushing against him in a theater or market. Seremides had his likes and dislikes, however they might be founded, and it was better not to be disliked. He could bide his time, with the patience of a concealed sleen, in ambush, waiting for his opportunity, even an opinion to be expressed, whatever it might be, and would then contradict it, and then heat the matter with aspersions and derogations to the point of martial arbitration. The opinion was immaterial; paramount would be the quarrel, the pretext, that being the quarry sought, the quarrel, always the quarrel. Wise men attended his words, intently, and graciously, spoke little in his presence, and would forbear to disagree. One tried to please him. - (Mariners of Gor, Chapter )