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Antologia BarbarzyĹcy [Rebis] 01 BarbarzyĹcy_ Tom 1 (1991)
Diana Hunter [Submission 01] Secret Submission [EC] (pdf)
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"I'll remember."
Jeremy found himself wishing that he could steal his uncle's boat, since it seemed that he would have to
take someone's. But as a vinedresser, only occasionally a winemaker, not really a fisherman, Humbert
had no boat.
It was next day at sundown when Jeremy's life, his whole world, changed even more suddenly and
violently than on the day of his parents' death.
He was walking with studied casualness toward the place of rendezvous, bringing Sal a few more scraps
of smuggled food, when his first sight of a fury, throbbing bat-like through the air, coming at treetop
height in his general direction, threatened for a moment to paralyze him. Sal's enemies have come, to kill
her and to steal her treasure.
In the distance, just beyond the last house of the village, he saw and heard a strange man, mounted on a
cameloid, shouting orders, telling creatures and people to find "her."
Suddenly the darkening sky seemed full of furies, as black and numerous as crows.
FOUR
Bounding forward, he reached Sal's side only to crouch beside her helplessly, not knowing if they should
try to hide or take to the river and escape. Her soft voice seemed unsurprised at the sound and movement
beginning to fill the air around them. "Remember. The first name is Alexander, the second Chalandon."
Then suddenly her expression altered. "Listen !"
There was a rustling and a gliding in the sunset air, and from directly above them drifted down a series of
soft, strange, wild cries.
Jeremy leaped to his feet, in time to see the second wave of the attack swept in, in the form of sword-
wielding men on pacing cameloids, less than a minute behind the flying creatures. Jeremy recognized the
blue and white uniforms of Lord Kalakh's army the people who half a year ago had overrun Jeremy's
home village.
Tumult had broken out among the Raisinmakers, with people pouring out of houses, running to and fro.
Jeremy grabbed Sal by one arm and dragged her up and out of hiding. She was now in full sight of
several villagers, but none of them paid any attention.
Jeremy was ready to try once more to carry her, but Sal, driven to panic, tried desperately to stand and
run to the river. She hobbled beside him for a moment, but then her wounded leg gave way. She was
crawling to get away when a swooping fury fell upon her slashing. Sal rolled over, screaming in agony.
Jeremy grabbed up a stone and flung it at the flying terror, which squawked and twisted in midair to
avoid the missile. When another of the monsters swooped low over Sal, he hurled himself at it, trying to
beat it off with his bare hands. It seemed to him that he even caught a momentary grip on one of its
file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...The%20Face%20of%20Apollo%20(v1.1%20htm).html (23 of 221) [2/4/2004 11:11:04 PM]
Fred Saberhagen - The Book of the Gods 1 - The Face of Apollo
whips, but the organ slithered like a snake out of his hand, impossible to hold.
Men, women, and children were shouting in the background. Another fury had just alighted in the top of
one of the village shade trees, slender branches swaying under the startling weight. Another came down
on the ground and a third right on the peaked shingled roof of Uncle's house. A host of similar creatures
were swirling, gray blurs in the background, coming out of the east with the approaching dusk.
Finally Jeremy got a good look at one, holding still in the last sunset light. The creature's face looked
monstrously human, a caricature of a woman's face, drawn by some artist whose hatred of all women was
clear in every line. Actually, male organs were visible at the bottom of its hairy body.
The creature's great bat wings, for the moment at rest, hung down like draperies. When once more they
stirred in motion, they rippled like gray flags in the wind. Its coloring was almost entirely gray, of all
shades from white to black, and mottled together in a way that reminded him of the sight of rotting clam
meats. And the smell that came from it, though not as strong as that corruption, was even worse in
Jeremy's nostrils.
Even from the place where Jeremy was now crouching over Sal, trying to get her back on her feet again,
the village shrine was visible. Pale marble Dionysus and squat, dark Priapus were not about to move from
their carved positions but stood facing each other as always, oblivious to what was going on around them.
Now their raised wine cups seemed to suggest some horrible treachery, as if in mutual congratulations on
the success of the attack, the destruction of the villagers who had so long neglected them.
Jeremy had heard that in addition to his more famous attributes, Priapus was a protector of vineyards and
orchards. But his statue here was dead and powerless as the stone markers in the village burial ground.
Villagers were running, screaming, pointing up at gliding or perching furies. Jeremy caught a glimpse of
Myra, wearing a short skirt like other village girls, standing frozen. On her plain face, framed by her long
brown hair, was an expression of perfect shock.
And here came another of the flying horrors toward Sal
From the fury's taloned bird-like feet and from the fringed wingtips hung the half-dozen tendrils that
served as scourging whips. They snapped in a restless reflex motion, making a brief ripple of sound. One
struck at a small bird and sent it into convulsions.
The fellows of the first attacker, gliding above on wings the size of carpets, screamed down to it, making
sounds that might almost have been words, and it launched itself into the air again, first rising a few
yards, then diving like a hawk to the attack. The screams that rose up in response were all from human
throats. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
