Friesner, Esther A Beltaine and Suspenders

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

in his best attempt at a protective posture. Merlin took one look at the skinny
young man's snarling lips and flashing eyes, remarked, "Silly git," and
gestured. Both lovers found themselves immediately clothed, lacking only their
overcoats.
"It's a marvel!" Olivia gasped, staring down at herself.
"Not such a big one," Telemachus replied, fidgeting. "The old coot's got my
small clothes on backward."
"It won't make any difference where you're going" Merlin said, his voice colder
than the winter weather outside. "Let's be off. It's nearly dawn."
The villagers stayed only long enough to pass two bulky bundles of folded cloth
to the wizard, who in turn bestowed them on Olivia and Telemachus. While the
bemused pair shook these out, all the villagers dashed away again. The doth
bundles turned out to be thick wool cloaks, heavily embroidered with intricate
patterns of fantastic beasts. The new-made lovers exchanged a scientist's glance
of recognition: These were the very creatures from the fatal church mural that
had brought them here.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Lizards," Telemachus whispered.
"Lizards," Olivia repeated. "But . . . why?"
"Perhaps they're not lizards. Perhaps they're really dragons." Telemachus
shuddered. "Anything is possible in this uncanny place."
Olivia gave her qualified agreement: "Smallish dragons. I think if we're thrown
to any such, we might have a good chance of holding them off . . . for a time .
. . if there aren't too many of them."
"Oh, hush before you spout worse rubbish." Merlin prodded her in the small of
the back with his twiggy finger. "Put the cloaks on and move along. It's almost
past time to begin."
They walked where they were taken, out of Merlin's cottage, out of the dell, and
back into the center of Greater Ambrose. They set foot upon the village green
just in time to see Ham Dethalter helping Father Herrick over the lip of the
shaft. The vicar glowered at Olivia, but she was too downcast in her mind to
return the hostile grimace. Apart from that, the area was deserted.
"Now what was that fool doing down there?" Merlin muttered. "Playing it close,
he was! A mercy he was got out in time."
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"Time to throw us in," Olivia said softly.
Telemachus squeezed her hand by way of comfort. "If we must die, let us die
together, my darling."
"I'm going to be ill," the wizard announced. "You city noodles haven't the sense
God gave hedgehogs. How often must I say it? If a country can produce over
thirty-five different kinds of cheese, why can't it also have more than one way
to run a ritual? We are not throwing perfectly useful human beings down Hob's
Chimbley! Not now, not ever -- well, not on purpose, anyhow -- and not today, of
all days!"
"You have -- you have some other place you perform the sacrifice?" Telemachus
inquired, the amateur scholar to the bitter end.
An unpleasant glimmer lit the wizard's eyes. "Why, yes, of course we do," he
said in a frightfully insinuating tone. "It's like -- it's like whatd'you
callums, Christmas waits. Aye, that's it: The waits who go caroling house to
house in the village, so quaint and melodious and all that. Only in this case --
stop me if you've heard this one before-- in this case the carolers take you
from house to house, and after the householder stands them a treat for their
songs, the waits chop off a little bit of one of you -- a finger, a toe, a nose,
whatever they fancy -- and give it to their host by way of thanks. That's how
they do it, 'round and 'round the village until they run out of bits and pieces
or they run out of carols, whichever comes first. Then it's everyone off to the
winter fields to plant the pieces and ensure the fertility of the land and--"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
"You're making that up," said Olivia.
"And what if I am? You're the one who's so set on being a human sacrifice. I'm
only trying to please your prejudices. You wouldn't accept the truth if it bit
you on the bum."
"Truth biting me on the fundamentals would at least seem more believable than
your cock-and-bull tale of bloodthirsty carolers."
"So my tale's unbelievable, eh? Well, my fine lady, then how do you explain
that?" Merlin pointed dramatically.
Telemachus squinted. "I don't see anything."
"Of course you don't see anything, you lackwit, they're too far off and the
houses are still in the way, but there's no way I can make a grand, wizardly
gesture that tells you you're supposed to listen for something, eh?"
Olivia saw nothing, but she heard. Oh, how she heard! It was the unmistakable
sound of many voices raised in song. Through the clean, crisp, fir-scented dawn
the carol came, its cadence slow, majestic, but exultant, the words as yet too
faint to be made out.
They came in twos and threes, all the villagers of Greater Ambrose (except Ham,
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
who was fishing the aluminum ladder out of Hob's Chimbley now that Father
Herrick had been dredged to safety). The watery winter sun cast their shadows
weakly before them. They marched down one of the narrow hamlet streets, wearing
stiff woolen robes dyed berry-red or evergreen, the thickly decorated hems
acting like miniature plows to cast the snow away to both sides of the
procession. Their gold-embroidered sleeves trailed almost to the ground.
Granny Bones led the way, marking the beat with the clack-clack-clacking jaws of
a tiny skull. Olivia gasped.
"For pity's sake, girl, that's only Rollo's headbone!" Merlin snapped.
"Oh, poor Rollo!" Olivia was transfixed with horror.
"Stuff! Rollo died at the ripe old age of seventeen."
"So young?" She trembled, on the brink of a faint.
"Young?" Merlin scoffed. "Why, for a Pekingese that's ancient! Always loved the
Yuletide ritual, did Rollo. Run up and down the length of the procession giving
that snuffly little bark of his. Still, you'd think old Granny'd leave the poor
beast to rest in peace."
By now the procession was on the village green proper and Olivia could see that
it was indeed a dog's skull that Granny carried. Behind her came two village
men, each carrying something small and white in their cupped hands. ("Soap, you
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
ninny!" Merlin growled in her ear. "All it is is soap, so don't go taking
another one of your cat fits.") They were followed by two more men -- Paisley
and Wensley Bloodwell -- bearing silver basins full of water. They had towels
draped over their arms and were the twins of the next two men in line, and the
next.
In all, a round dozen male citizens of Greater Ambrose Suflesard marched onto
the green, all equipped as if for Maundy Thursday and the washing of some poor
beggarfolks' feet. By now the words of the song on their lips was quite audible.
Audible, Olivia soon realized, was no substitute for credible.
"Bring forth your lizards, put them in a tub.
"Bring forth your lizards, rub-a-dub-a-dub. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Linki