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Acolyte, v. 1, issue 4, Summer 1943
Page 8
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"I know, but that was twelve days ago." "It was twelve days, and we have seen nothing since the water-hole; but who tracked down the creature with hands and fangs?" he asked. And she knew it was her elder brother who had done so. They had a night at least. If there were no buildings, neither were there likely to be snakes or other dangers on this sterile height. The warm swamp country was left behind them, but Dal had a heavy cloak woven of green fibers: they could sleep wrapped in this. They chose a spot at the base of the ruin, a sunken place where some underground chamber had fallen in. Rest was more precious than escape. The pale night darkened, and save for the fluttering once of a shadow dissatisfied with its perch, nothing disturbed them. The ground grew chilly toward morning, and Dal awoke and fell to pondering on their future course, and then a little later something called in a high voice and was answered from the valley, and day drew near. He stood and saw the low eroded mountains, green and purple, many miles off, with such woodland and meadow country running to the cliff's base as he had suspected at night. It seemed a fair place--but was there any way to descend? He kicked off a stone, and thought he failed to hear it, but as he sought another, the noise of the first floated up vague and remote. Leyenda rose, untangling her hair, and said she was hungry. With a stick he soon frightened three fat birds out of their nest on the cone, and lost sight of Leyenda as he pursued them. One, regarding him with little fear, led him a few yards and then disappeared suddenly in the hold it had been making for; but he killed the other two, tangling them in a snarl of blossoming briar. Their blood splattered and their floundering wings shook down a rain of petals. Then as he lifted out the sleek, nerveless bodies, necks adangle and gore on their patterned wings; Leyenda gave a little cry. His heart was knifed with intuition, and he dropped the birds, but gripped the club he had killed them with. Leyenda was beyond the cone, which was flanked on the right by the cliff-edge and on the left by tumbled stone blocks, so he was compelled to scramble up over it to meet the danger from above. But when he could see her, she was alone, crouching on the ground, and exclaiming softly over something the size of a pear. Dal's shadow fell across her, and she started. For a moment he saw the image of his fear reflected in her eyes and suddenly pale lips. Then she laughed. "How terrible you look up there with that big stick in your hand. Are you planning to have me for breakfast?" Then, solicitously-- "Oh, you're all bloody. Are you hurt?" He shook his head, but at that moment, in his eagerness to descend, stepped on a loose stone and sprawled toward her. His left ankle gave way, and he was kindled to instant fiery pain. He slid a few feet, groaning despite himself. She sprang to him and stroked the injured part with frightened fingers, but seeing this pained him, left off. And then, not sure how much he was injured, and fearing to learn, Dal said it was a small thing and that he would rest a while before getting up. He told her of the birds lying where he had left them, and she in turn displayed her find. It was caked with dirt, but gleaming still--- a bracelet, almost a shackel, of hammered metal. Copper or gold, but gnawed with verdigris, she had found it half-under a stone lintel while she was looking for blackberries. "Isn't it lovely? I shall wear it," Leyenda said, putting it in his hand. "But I shall have to wash it first. And--" regarding him severely, "I'll have to wash you too unless you make yourself presentable. There is a sort of well--a shallow place with a stone rim--over there." She pointed to a clump of bushes greener than any of the others. It was when he tried to rise that he realized his ankle was badly twisted, possibly even broken. She took the news with heavy face. -- 8 --
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"I know, but that was twelve days ago." "It was twelve days, and we have seen nothing since the water-hole; but who tracked down the creature with hands and fangs?" he asked. And she knew it was her elder brother who had done so. They had a night at least. If there were no buildings, neither were there likely to be snakes or other dangers on this sterile height. The warm swamp country was left behind them, but Dal had a heavy cloak woven of green fibers: they could sleep wrapped in this. They chose a spot at the base of the ruin, a sunken place where some underground chamber had fallen in. Rest was more precious than escape. The pale night darkened, and save for the fluttering once of a shadow dissatisfied with its perch, nothing disturbed them. The ground grew chilly toward morning, and Dal awoke and fell to pondering on their future course, and then a little later something called in a high voice and was answered from the valley, and day drew near. He stood and saw the low eroded mountains, green and purple, many miles off, with such woodland and meadow country running to the cliff's base as he had suspected at night. It seemed a fair place--but was there any way to descend? He kicked off a stone, and thought he failed to hear it, but as he sought another, the noise of the first floated up vague and remote. Leyenda rose, untangling her hair, and said she was hungry. With a stick he soon frightened three fat birds out of their nest on the cone, and lost sight of Leyenda as he pursued them. One, regarding him with little fear, led him a few yards and then disappeared suddenly in the hold it had been making for; but he killed the other two, tangling them in a snarl of blossoming briar. Their blood splattered and their floundering wings shook down a rain of petals. Then as he lifted out the sleek, nerveless bodies, necks adangle and gore on their patterned wings; Leyenda gave a little cry. His heart was knifed with intuition, and he dropped the birds, but gripped the club he had killed them with. Leyenda was beyond the cone, which was flanked on the right by the cliff-edge and on the left by tumbled stone blocks, so he was compelled to scramble up over it to meet the danger from above. But when he could see her, she was alone, crouching on the ground, and exclaiming softly over something the size of a pear. Dal's shadow fell across her, and she started. For a moment he saw the image of his fear reflected in her eyes and suddenly pale lips. Then she laughed. "How terrible you look up there with that big stick in your hand. Are you planning to have me for breakfast?" Then, solicitously-- "Oh, you're all bloody. Are you hurt?" He shook his head, but at that moment, in his eagerness to descend, stepped on a loose stone and sprawled toward her. His left ankle gave way, and he was kindled to instant fiery pain. He slid a few feet, groaning despite himself. She sprang to him and stroked the injured part with frightened fingers, but seeing this pained him, left off. And then, not sure how much he was injured, and fearing to learn, Dal said it was a small thing and that he would rest a while before getting up. He told her of the birds lying where he had left them, and she in turn displayed her find. It was caked with dirt, but gleaming still--- a bracelet, almost a shackel, of hammered metal. Copper or gold, but gnawed with verdigris, she had found it half-under a stone lintel while she was looking for blackberries. "Isn't it lovely? I shall wear it," Leyenda said, putting it in his hand. "But I shall have to wash it first. And--" regarding him severely, "I'll have to wash you too unless you make yourself presentable. There is a sort of well--a shallow place with a stone rim--over there." She pointed to a clump of bushes greener than any of the others. It was when he tried to rise that he realized his ankle was badly twisted, possibly even broken. She took the news with heavy face. -- 8 --
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