Here’s a snippet of text from my Barsoom story “Three Deaths.” The story concerns a green martian warrior who loses two of his four arms in a duel with John Carter.
Ghar Han scowled and walked on past. He sought out the tent of Xan Malus, jeddak of the Warhoon, and was shown into the presence of the great lord, a cold, imperious man who clutched a spiked scepter and sat upon a jeweled throne.
“Kaor, Ghar Han,” said Xan Malus. “It pleases us to see that you are up and useful to us once more.”
“Kaor, Excellency,” said Ghar Han, crossing his two arms and bowing his head. “Thank you.”
“Now tell us,” said the jeddak, “why have you come?”
“Excellency,” said Ghar Han, “if it please you, I should like to pursue the Earthman John Carter, and challenge him once again to–”
“No, no,” said Xan Malus impatiently. “It does not please us. John Carter’s death is nothing to me, and in any event you would not succeed. I relinquish no asset, however small. I will not sacrifice one of my warriors, even a cripple, to no end.”
“I know, I know,” said the jeddak, with a wave. “You would prefer an honorable death to your present humiliation. But what care I for your honor, Ghar Han? I am jeddak, and you are mine, and so long as I breathe you shall be deployed to my ends, not yours. Tomorrow we strike camp and journey to retrieve the eggs of our offspring, and I desire that every able warrior be on hand to guard them. You know our wishes. Go.”