“Death is at your back, in front of you, at your sides, underneath you, and above you, but the True Panther Girl will live on and walk through those barriers of death.”
Throughout that abominable world know as Gor. Men ruled with an iron fist. All women accepted it. Most women were contented with it. Some women even enjoyed it. However, far from the civilized world was an area in Lake Ias, two panther tribes lived there. The Di jan and the Luna Caleeng. The Luna Caleeng were a band of barbaric heathen girls or at least that was how their Askari overlords viewed them in the relentless pursuit to eradicate or enslave them.
They were panther girls, fearless and brutal in combat, merciful in victory. The Luna Caleeng lived free of the shackles and whims of men. A man who ventured into their swamp had little zest for life or liberty. For once he was in the clutches of a Luna Caleeng his life was forfeit, for they reversed Gorean law. Women reigned and men perished under the Luna Caleeng by whip or by spear.
They were led by a young woman named Marli, she was as beautiful in thought and deed as she was in face and form. She carried herself with pride and dignity.
It was a dangerous life. Their enemies left them little time to cultivate the small plot land in their camp. They lived by the hunt and by raiding caravans that crossed Lake Ias. A monthly affair, the hunt was a dangerous time for the Luna Caleeng, taking them away from the relative safety of their swamps. At risk from the Askari warriors they kept ever alert. None were safer than those who hunted with Marli. With her, most Askari men became their prey, slain or enslaved. One day though even Marli’s luck ran dry.
An ambush was set for her and her panthers. Outnumbered but not outmatched, she fought like a wild larl. She stayed behind fighting the many Askari warriors, desperately trying to let her own sisters escape into the swamps. With so many upon her she had no chance, so when once her spear was gone, broken into by a Askari warrior’s sword, she fought with her own hands till a noose was tied about her neck and she was dragged down to her knees.
They took her through the town of Siba as their prize. She was paraded in a wagon, bound to the cart, her hands up in the air, tied. The villagers threw rocks and pebbles and insulted her…
Through this all this she kept her head held high and didn’t say a word to no one. In the village center she was tied to a post and whipped senseless to reveal the location of her sisters camp. Again not a word passed her lips, not a cry of pain or shout of fright although the agony was beyond all understanding.
The wealthy villagers put her at night in the cages with the males thinking this would degrade her. The males did not hurt or touch her they just grumbled. Marli was strong of will and it was known she had killed many men, so they knew better. They just insulted and mocked her.
So she squatted not saying a word, ignoring everyone in cool silence, waiting for her chance to escape. Her captivity did not last long. Marli’s wits went far beyond those of her captors and she escaped. It is not important how she managed it. Maybe we shall chronicle her triumphant return one day, but for now let it be that she, with her cunning and guile outwitted the supposedly superior men of Askari.
Marli tears the note from the trade post , her features hardening with anger as she reads
We admire you for the patience and skill that you have established in your gardens. I am sure the veggies will taste wonderful
May the Priest Kings lead your path into our collars!
The Sa Nahele Panther girls