Explore "Planet of Peril" by Otis Adelbert Kline on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Returning consciousness brought numerous twinges of pain to Grandon. He stirred uneasily. A soft hand pressed his fevered brow, and a sweet voice said: "Speak not so loudly, Rotha. You will awaken him and he needs rest--much rest and quiet."
Slowly he opened his eyes. He was lying on a sleeping shelf that projected in a half-moon shape from the wall like the nest of a cave-swallow. At the foot of his couch, which was of stone but lined with soft moss, Rotha, the slave girl, held a golden vessel in which was a pasty compound of aromatic herbs, while Vernia occupied a place at the head. His armor had been removed and his bruises covered with the sweet-smelling ointment.