Slow Turns The World by Andy Sparrow Read Free Book Online Page A

fine leather, weapons such as we have seen, full bellies and the power of life or death over others… Then evil may pass from man to man like sickness.”
    Queet looked sadly at the valley.
    “My father's father told me of this place,” he said. “How he came here as a child.  That it was fair and bright with many birds and animals living in the woodlands.  And that there were fish to catch within the lake…   Have you heard a bird sing since we came here?  Or seen the burrowing animals dashing to their holes?   There is a stink upon the air and even the grass is brown and withered.”
    “Then be glad that we shall not linger here,” said Torrin.   “We have seen that this way can be passed and must bear this news back.  It is most likely now that the Ummakil stand between our people and us.  To find a path around them will not be easy, so let us arm ourselves well.”
    Each returned to the cliff top with crossbows and swords.  They looked down into the great shadow-filled plain below but no fire or smoke could now be seen.  The icy wind still blew in jagged gusts as they began the scramble down.
    “Are we sure the Ummakil will not pass this way?” asked Grelle as they climbed.
    “Rasgan says they will not,” said Torrin.  “For he has seen their signs are carved upon the other way leading to the sea and there is no tale of them being seen upon this path.”
    “So they must pass the water, and whatever dwells within,” said Valhad.  “If this wisdom could be shared both tribes might cross safely.”
    “Valhad, the Ummakil know nothing of sharing,” said Torrin.
     
    Reaching the forest again the band crouched in whispered council.
    “They are less in numbers than our tribe,” said Torrin, “If we can slip past them, and then lead our people along the high valley side, then, with our bows, old and new, we could hold them off without much loss.”
    “There is another way,” said Queet.  “Let us surprise them, for we can do much harm with these new bows.”
    “No.”    Valhad surprised them all with the firmness of his words.  “No.  We shall not kill any of their kind in such a way.  If they are as cruel and fierce as the stories tell, then let them show it first.”
    “I do not doubt that they will,” said Torrin.
    So they crept on cautiously through the trees watching and listening.  They walked until their feet became too weary and then took turns to sleep and watch.  Their empty bellies rumbled, but they could at least drink from the many streams of pure water that tumbled from the mountain slopes.   As they walked on again they saw no sign of the dreaded other tribe.  Torrin began to fear that the Ummakil had moved quickly to the sea and if that were so…  If that were so there would be, at best, a battle with many killed; at worst, it would be a massacre.  With just one final walk to reach the sea they crept onwards through denser woodland and then, without warning, the forest bristled with spears.  
    From ahead and to both sides the Ummakil emerged; many of them; much more than could be fought.  Their hair was long and dark, their beards too, but their skin was pale, for seldom did the sun ever shine upon them.  It was the eyes that were most strange and marked them apart from all other tribes, for they were dark and round, like those of owls.  They moved slowly towards the hunters, silently smiling, and ready with spear or flint tipped arrow.   Then came a sound that cut the silence apart, of steel drawing from leather as the Vasagi slid free their new swords.  But the Ummakil, seeing the metal blades, only smiled more broadly, and continued their slow advance.
    “We do not come to fight.”  It was Valhad who spoke; strongly and without fear, as he stepped forward without any weapon and walked to meet the Ummakil.   There was one with the appearance of a chieftain, for he wore a headdress and had a great necklace of carved bones.  Valhad walked