Yuen-Mong's Revenge by Gian Bordin Read Free Book Online Page A

these ant scavengers we saw last night?"
            "Yes, when they are fresh, but the poisons break down when they
begin to rot."
            He showed no inclination to helping her harvest the fruit, but
willingly carried the two bags she had filled, while she collected green
plants, similar to cress that grew in swampy places. He trudged along,
constantly asking questions about Aros, especially about the savages.
They seemed to intrigue him, although he did not hide his disdain for
their primitive lifestyle of living in small clans of between fifty and
eighty adults and for their barbaric practice of raiding other clans, killing
any men who did not run away or offered resistance and then capturing
the younger females. He seemed particularly interested in their practice
to offer periodically a person, usually a captured male or older female, in
sacrifice to the craws which they worshiped and hoped to appease in this
way. But she did not have the impression that he was really interested. It
seemed more a means to pass the time, that he was preoccupied by
something else. If she finally had shaken his disbelief about the magnetic
field of Aros disabling all electronics, it was a promising start.
          The thorntree was her preferred fuel. It grew slowly, therefore its
wood was very dense. A mature tree was ten to twelve meters tall, a thin
trunk of arms thickness, with short leafless branches of no more that a
meter in length, sticking out at right angles like thorns all around the
trunk. Her father had explained to her that the greenish bark of the
branches also did the function of photosynthesis. She selected one about
two hundred yards from her rock and started the cut with her short saw
a foot off the ground, just below the first branches. After five minutes,
she was about halfway through and handed the saw to him. He took it
reluctantly, but finished the cut. She pushed the tree over just before he
was completely through. Next, she began snapping off the branches one
by one. Seeing how easily she did it, he wanted to try too, but only
managed to twist the branch. She told him that there was a trick to it and
that she would show him another time. In the meantime he could carry
the branches to where the rope came down from the cave.
          She had almost finished removing the branches, when she suddenly
felt a disturbance and stopped working, closing her eyes, listening
intently.
          "What’s the matter?" he asked, watching her curiously.
          She held up her hand, signaling to him to be quiet. There it was again,
the typical chaotic emanations coming from a group of savages, not very
far to the south. "Savages are coming this way. We should get back to the
cave. We may just have time to haul most of the branches up."
            "Why the hurry since you claim they’re afraid of you?" His tone of
voice was mocking.
          "Because I cannot tell how many there are. It sounds like a big party."
            "Suddenly scared, are you?"
            "No, just prudent … and I have no point to prove, nor do I like to kill
unnecessarily. We must hurry."
            They carried the rest of the branches to the rope, where she quickly
bundled them into faggots of a dozen or so. She pulled herself up the
rope a few yards and came down with the two ends of a second, thinner
rope. She asked him to climb up and unhook the bundles as she hauled
them up, and then send the thin rope down again. A quarter hour later all
eight bundles were on the ledge, and shortly after that she returned too.
It was just past midday.
          "Do they know the location of the cave?" he asked, while she was preparing lunch.
          "They probably know the general area where I live, but not where the
cave is. This is another reason why I would rather not have an encounter
with them near here. They rarely come into this area, except when they
go on one of their raiding parties. This area is the