Foster, Alan Dean Catechist 1 Carnivores of Light and Darkness

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monkeys, the silence that engulfed him was stupendous. The stars seemed to edge closer, as if interested
in inspecting the lone man crouched next to the small fire, eating by himself in the darkness.
He thought he felt something brush against him. A chill like a thin stream of ice water ran down his back
and he whirled, but if there was anything prowling the night, it was no more palpable than darkness itself.
He saw nothing. Taking a deep breath, he lay down and wrapped himself in his blanket. If something
wanted to take him while he slept, there was nothing he could do about it. A man must sleep. He would
rely, as always, on his tracker s intuition and alertness to awaken him if anything approached too near.
Even an eromakadi, though he was not too worried about that.
After all, there was clinging to him no exceptional brightness, no radiant happiness, and therefore nothing
to make him particularly attractive to those malevolent ephemera that haunted the margins of what most
men falsely believed to be an immutable reality.
V
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MORNING BROUGHT RENEWED DETERMINATION TO PRESS ON. Just as Gomo had
promised, the cultivated fields that marked the outskirts of the city by encircling Kora Keri like a verdant
necklace soon came into view.
To say that the town was a colossal disappointment might have been too strong a conclusion, but at first
glance it certainly was not what Ehomba had either expected or hoped for. In fairness to Gomo, the
troop leader had never ventured an actual description of the municipality. He had only said that Ehomba
might find useful directions or assistance there. It was good, the herdsman reflected as he walked toward
the gate in the defensive mud wall that encircled the community proper, that he had hoped for nothing
more.
From what he could see, Kora Keri had little to boast of but size. There were no towering temples, no
marble palaces, no architectural marvels rendered in stone and brick. Though clearly a much poorer
place than he had expected, the town was also far more populous. Plenty of activity was visible beyond
the gate, through which a line of horse- and camel-drawn wagons, buffalo carts, giant cargo-carrying
sloths, and pedestrians was slowly filing. A brace of husky guards checked bundles and packages,
though for what manner of contraband Ehomba did not know. Fetching up against the back of the line, he
patiently awaited his turn to enter.
Well, a stranger stranger than usual. The guard rubbed at an itch beneath the brim of his tightly wound,
bright blue turban and gawked at the tall herdsman standing before him.
From the south, I would think. Approaching Ehomba, one of the other guards sniffed ostentatiously at
the visitor. This one stinks of sheep and cattle and something else. He inhaled again and made a show
of analyzing the aroma, like some degenerate oenophile pondering a particularly pungent vintage. I ve
got it. Monkey! He stinks of monkey.
All five of the sentries on duty laughed while offering their own crude comments. One stepped up to
poke the herdsman ungently in the ribs. Tell me, herdsman: What are the hidden meanings of this
distinctive perfume? Does it mean that when you are not consorting with sheep, you like to screw in the
treetops?
You d better watch your step in Kora Keri, another advised gleefully. The whores here prefer hard
coin, not bananas. Once more the mirth was general.
In response to this widespread jollity Ehomba offered no comment; he simply stood and waited patiently
for a remark worth responding to. Wiping at his eyes as the laughter finally began to fade, the officer in
charge confronted the traveler with something resembling formality. Behind him, the line waiting to enter
the inner city was growing longer, and murmurs of impatience could be heard rising from drivers and
tradesfolk.
So then, monkey lover, what is your business here?
I am only passing through. Ehomba maintained a straight-ahead gaze and did not look at the guard.
Passing through, eh? The officer winked at his men, who were thoroughly enjoying themselves at the
stranger s expense. Passing through to where?
To the north, Ehomba explained candidly.
Really? You d best not go too far north. It is said there is big trouble brewing there. He took a step
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back and fingered the hilt of the sword scabbarded at his waist. One gold piece entrance fee.
Ehomba frowned slightly. I did not see anyone else paying an entrance fee.
The officer s expression darkened. You need to look closer, then. Maybe there s something wrong
with your eyes. His voice darkened. If not, a little partial blindness can be arranged. Reaching down,
he drew the sword partway from its scabbard.
The herdsman turned to meet the threatening gaze. I do not want any trouble.
Then don t go looking for it. With his other hand the officer extended an open palm. Nearby, his men
tensed.
I am a simple herdsman. I have mostly cattle and some sheep, but no coin. My village is a poor one.
The officer shrugged. Not a problem. Turn around and go back to it.
Ehomba eyed the other side of the gate longingly. He could hear the sounds of a bustling bazaar, smell [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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