[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
finger. It was vibrating.
Billy said, "Watch him, Bwana. I get the other one." Billy went into the
jungle after Cannon.
Night dipped down full and complete. The moon rose up like a shiny
balloon. Hanson sat beside the. body of Small, his rifle pointed at Wilson.
Out in the jungle, in the dark, Billy stalked Cannon.
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
Earlier, when Jean first heard the movement in the dungeon, without
really thinking, she said, "Who's there?"
There was a long moment of silence, then came "Nyama. I am Nyama
and soon I die."
Jean squinted into the darkness. Her eyes were adjusting, and she could
see the shape of the speaker. A woman.
"You speak English," Jean said.
"Missionaries," Nyama said. "I can read too. And quote Bible verses.
You like to hear them?"
"Not just now," Jean said. "Maybe you can teach them to me later. . .
how did you get here? What missionaries? Missionaries to this city?"
"No," Nyama said. "Of course not. I am from the high forest land. One
day these people of Ur raided us and I was one of those they stole away. I do
not know if any of the others of my people who were brought here are still
alive. I think not."
"How long have you been here?"
"I do not know. Long time in the city of Ur. But here, in this place. Not
long. Since Kurvandi tired of me."
"Kurvandi?"
"He is the King of Ur. One in a long line of Kurvandis. I was brought
here to be one of his wives, and he forced me. . . I made him miserable.
Finally, he had me brought here. Soon, I die. But, I had it to do again, I would
still make him miserable. I prefer this to his bedchambers.
not like to be treated like a breeding cow. You are lucky he did not like your
looks."
"I don't know if that makes me feel insulted or happy."
"Let me have a look at you," Nyama said.
"That won't be easy in the dark," Jean said.
"I am accustomed to darkness. But here, come." The woman took Jean
by the elbow, led her toward the closed door.
Around the edges of the door a bit of light seeped in, and Jean could feel
fresh air from the outside. The air not sweet, but it certainly smelled better
than the air in the cell. The light and air heartened her a little.
"You are quite pretty," said Nyama, her face close to Jean's."
"And so are you," Jean said. It was an honest evaluation. Nyama was
indeed quite beautiful.
"I am surprised he did not want you for one of his women," Nyama said.
"Perhaps it's because he views pale skin as inferior."
"Why does he want to have me killed?" Jean said. "I didn't come here of
my own free will. I've done nothing the people of Ur. True, I would have come
here way. . but why must they kill me? Kill us?"
"He has his reasons," Nyama said. "But without reasons, he would kill
us anyway. He eventually kills everything. He is mad. They are all mad. Full of
the glory of great city and their gods ... one thing, though. Their god, unlike
missionary god, you can see. I have seen it. It is mad like Kurvandi. A horrible
god."
"You have seen their god'?"
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
"Yes."
"Is it a statue . . an oracle?"
Nyama sighed. This was followed by a long silence. Finally, "No. I do not
believe any of that. Statues are statues, and oracles are old men and women
with their fingers in bird guts. I believe what I see. And I have seen this god."
"A moving, breathing god?"
"Do not patronize me," Nyama said. "That is the word, is it not?
Patronize?"
"I'm sorry," Jean said. "I didn't mean to. . ."
"Yes, you did."
"But a moving, breathing god?"
"Missionaries believed in a god I could not see. Wanted me to believe in
it. I could not. But Urs, they believe in god you can see. I have seen it. Makes
more sense, a god you can see. But still, god or not a god, I do not care for it. It
is a god of death and destruction. Very ill-tempered."
"Are you saying it's to this god we will be sacrificed?"
"In one way or another. They kill in honor of the god and his moves, and
they give the god offerings that it kills for itself."
"You said in honor of its moves. What does that mean?"
"It moves in all manner of ways," Nyama said. "Every way it moves, the
move brings death. It has a dance of death, and when it dances, people die.
Very bad deaths. Very bad. Those that are not given to the god, they are
sacrificed in its name."
Jean and Nyama moved away from the light and to a stone bench. The
smell was not so bad in this corner, and Jean found she needed to sit. She was
exhausted. Grief and fear made her exhaustion even more complete.
Jean and Nyama sat beside one another and talked. Nyama's English
was very good, and soon Jean had some idea what Ur was all about.
It seemed the Urs were a people descended from a great and glorious
culture. Ur had been a great city before Solomon was king. It was a city of
wealth am riches, and once all of Africa had been under its rule.
But the royalty of Ur, unwilling to contaminate their blood with that of
outsiders, gradually restricted "foreigners," and in time, to keep the blood
pure, royalty married royalty. Over generations, this practice resulted in
genetic deficiencies. Insanity.
In the last few years, even though the King was mad he realized that for
the line to continue, for Ur to regain its glory, he must reach outside of his
kingdom, bring in slaves, women for his harem. Women who could bear him
children. In this way, he hoped to freshen the blood of his line.
And there was another reason- the god Ebopa, The Stick That Walks.
Legend said that Ebopa had come up from the center of the earth through
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]