RJM Corbet
Deus Pascus Corvus
I hope I'm not taking too much of a liberty by posting the passage immediately preceding the excerpt from ERLOS posted earlier. I do not wish to abuse this forum, but it's to add context. Thank you for your interest ...
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Later, when Sorac wakened Toache for his guard duty, the big boatmaker occupied himself making a foot for the kradok, with a hinged ankle, whittling away with a knife and whistling tunelessly to himself. He worked quickly, with great skill. Many thoughts passed through his mind. Kym Myaan was to him a sign, an omen. Toache was not like other men. While he hoped to teach and uplift the ugly kradok into something almost human, he also felt that the kradok would be able to teach him. He wanted to probe the kradok’s mind. By the time Toache was satisfied with the foot, dawn was near.
Toache put the kettle on the fire and then he woke the others. While Tyl and Sorac raised themselves, he went out to check on Kym Myaan. The kradok was awake and eating what was left of the liga they had killed for it two days before. The stump had healed well, but Toache realized that, although he could attach the wooden foot, and that it would fit well, he would have to support Kym Myaan, at least for a while. The prospect of allowing the stinking, dangerous creature lean upon his shoulder did not much appeal to him, but he saw no other way.
When the kradok’s eyes fixed upon Toache’s, they were no longer angry as they had been the day before, but now showed faith and trust. In that moment of eye contact Toache’s spirit leaped and his heart seemed to flame with an intensity of feeling he had never known before. He realized he must be careful not to display any emotion which Kym Myaan might take for weakness, though inwardly he loved the ugly beast.
"Can you think of nothing but your belly, you foul creature? "he said: "See, I have made you a foot?"
As he reached out with his own mind, Toache realized that the kradok’s mind was opening to his. He was able to draw answers to his questions from the turgid mental images he found there. Tyl and Sorac came out from the fire tent to see what was going on, and suspicion immediately shadowed the kradok’s thoughts.
"Go back inside," Toache said to them.
They shrugged and went back inside the tent, and Kym Myaan’s expression of animal trust returned.
"There is nothing to fear from them," Toache said: "They want to help you, as I do. But you must help us too."
He quietened his mind to absorb Kym Myaan’s thoughts. Perhaps thought was not a particularly apt word for Kym Myaan’s mental process. To stay with it needed huge mental endurance. Toache had to keep pulling his own mind away from the contact, to rest from the tiredness and sickness which the effort caused him. But the kradok understood the bond between them, though its dark eyes remained miserable beyond measure.
Later, when Toache went back into the tent, he said to Sorac and Tyl: "Deep inside the earth there are tunnels that connect with the deepest and most ancient. There are creatures which live within the earth, strange to man, which know no light. Kym Myaan knows the caves. He will lead us."
It was still raining and they were a sorry sight, covered with bruises and scratches and insect bites. Their food was gone and the hot oppressive rain mixed with their sweat.
Soon they had bundled up what they could carry, leaving the tents and most of their possessions in the clearing by the river, and were on their way hacking a path through the jungle with Toache supporting Kym Myaan, who made even the giant boatmaker look small.
In the afternoon Sorac’s machete cut into a wasps’ nest. The angry creatures emerged by the dozen and stung all their faces, which at once begun to swell up hideously. It was at this point that Tyl lost her last shred of patience and began to scream hysterically, more with frustration than with pain from the stings. She had fallen to the ground, as if to try to burrow away from the wasps, and now she lay there on her face, screaming and crying, kicking her legs like a child and beating the earth with her fists.
Sorac went to pick her up; the wasp attack had not lasted long and, apart from a few painful lumps, had done no real damage. He held her shoulders while she screamed and cried and beat her fists against his chest. The mira bats, ever present in the treetops, had reacted to the dreadful cacophony by lifting themselves briefly into the hot, sodden air before settling down again, just beyond the aura of the stone. Kym Myaan, who had not been stung because his skin and fur was too thick, leaned against a tree for support and stared at the source of the racket with uncomprehending eyes, while Toache squatted down on his haunches with his head in his hands and groaned.
"Tyl, Tyl," Sorac stroked her head: "They’ve gone now."
His words just goaded her to greater hysteria and she began to punch at his already painful face with hard, balled fists. One of the blows struck him painfully over the left eye and he reacted instinctively by pushing her away from him and lifting his hand for an open handed slap, which he halted just in time. She tripped backward and landed on her rump, and sat there with her legs straight out in front of her, leaning back on her hands, silent, with tears streaming down her red and swollen, lumpy face.
"Good!" said the boatmaker.
"Shut up, Toache," snapped Sorac.
Toache by way of reply picked up a machete and began savagely to chop his way deeper into the jungle. Sorac helped Tyl up from the ground and stroked her hair as she wept on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed.
"Hush," he said.
The jungle was starting to darken as they began to descend, etc ...
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Later, when Sorac wakened Toache for his guard duty, the big boatmaker occupied himself making a foot for the kradok, with a hinged ankle, whittling away with a knife and whistling tunelessly to himself. He worked quickly, with great skill. Many thoughts passed through his mind. Kym Myaan was to him a sign, an omen. Toache was not like other men. While he hoped to teach and uplift the ugly kradok into something almost human, he also felt that the kradok would be able to teach him. He wanted to probe the kradok’s mind. By the time Toache was satisfied with the foot, dawn was near.
Toache put the kettle on the fire and then he woke the others. While Tyl and Sorac raised themselves, he went out to check on Kym Myaan. The kradok was awake and eating what was left of the liga they had killed for it two days before. The stump had healed well, but Toache realized that, although he could attach the wooden foot, and that it would fit well, he would have to support Kym Myaan, at least for a while. The prospect of allowing the stinking, dangerous creature lean upon his shoulder did not much appeal to him, but he saw no other way.
When the kradok’s eyes fixed upon Toache’s, they were no longer angry as they had been the day before, but now showed faith and trust. In that moment of eye contact Toache’s spirit leaped and his heart seemed to flame with an intensity of feeling he had never known before. He realized he must be careful not to display any emotion which Kym Myaan might take for weakness, though inwardly he loved the ugly beast.
"Can you think of nothing but your belly, you foul creature? "he said: "See, I have made you a foot?"
As he reached out with his own mind, Toache realized that the kradok’s mind was opening to his. He was able to draw answers to his questions from the turgid mental images he found there. Tyl and Sorac came out from the fire tent to see what was going on, and suspicion immediately shadowed the kradok’s thoughts.
"Go back inside," Toache said to them.
They shrugged and went back inside the tent, and Kym Myaan’s expression of animal trust returned.
"There is nothing to fear from them," Toache said: "They want to help you, as I do. But you must help us too."
He quietened his mind to absorb Kym Myaan’s thoughts. Perhaps thought was not a particularly apt word for Kym Myaan’s mental process. To stay with it needed huge mental endurance. Toache had to keep pulling his own mind away from the contact, to rest from the tiredness and sickness which the effort caused him. But the kradok understood the bond between them, though its dark eyes remained miserable beyond measure.
Later, when Toache went back into the tent, he said to Sorac and Tyl: "Deep inside the earth there are tunnels that connect with the deepest and most ancient. There are creatures which live within the earth, strange to man, which know no light. Kym Myaan knows the caves. He will lead us."
It was still raining and they were a sorry sight, covered with bruises and scratches and insect bites. Their food was gone and the hot oppressive rain mixed with their sweat.
Soon they had bundled up what they could carry, leaving the tents and most of their possessions in the clearing by the river, and were on their way hacking a path through the jungle with Toache supporting Kym Myaan, who made even the giant boatmaker look small.
In the afternoon Sorac’s machete cut into a wasps’ nest. The angry creatures emerged by the dozen and stung all their faces, which at once begun to swell up hideously. It was at this point that Tyl lost her last shred of patience and began to scream hysterically, more with frustration than with pain from the stings. She had fallen to the ground, as if to try to burrow away from the wasps, and now she lay there on her face, screaming and crying, kicking her legs like a child and beating the earth with her fists.
Sorac went to pick her up; the wasp attack had not lasted long and, apart from a few painful lumps, had done no real damage. He held her shoulders while she screamed and cried and beat her fists against his chest. The mira bats, ever present in the treetops, had reacted to the dreadful cacophony by lifting themselves briefly into the hot, sodden air before settling down again, just beyond the aura of the stone. Kym Myaan, who had not been stung because his skin and fur was too thick, leaned against a tree for support and stared at the source of the racket with uncomprehending eyes, while Toache squatted down on his haunches with his head in his hands and groaned.
"Tyl, Tyl," Sorac stroked her head: "They’ve gone now."
His words just goaded her to greater hysteria and she began to punch at his already painful face with hard, balled fists. One of the blows struck him painfully over the left eye and he reacted instinctively by pushing her away from him and lifting his hand for an open handed slap, which he halted just in time. She tripped backward and landed on her rump, and sat there with her legs straight out in front of her, leaning back on her hands, silent, with tears streaming down her red and swollen, lumpy face.
"Good!" said the boatmaker.
"Shut up, Toache," snapped Sorac.
Toache by way of reply picked up a machete and began savagely to chop his way deeper into the jungle. Sorac helped Tyl up from the ground and stroked her hair as she wept on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed.
"Hush," he said.
The jungle was starting to darken as they began to descend, etc ...
