Fantasy Adventure, 292 Pages
Cover art by Pat Evans, original design by DB Dakota
Blurb:
Born on harvest day, he’s blamed for starvation, declared a curse
by the priestess who’s scheming for control. He suffers brutality and scorn,
but his family steels him against ignorance and giving up.
An outcast mentalist, he sidesteps superstition, invents revolutionary
trappings, discovers a lush homeland and rescues the tribe.
Excerpt:
Ummbl
assigned her son the job of lookout for the traders. By and by the two men
showed up and were directed to the doctor’s house. She led them outside, away
from eavesdroppers, told them the O-marked boy was theirs for a handful of
gemstones, and walked with the men to the house where he lived.
“I
hear him and his pets inside,” she said, and pointed toward the mouth facade
gracing the cavern. “But at Passa we must meet; do you know where Passa is?”
They nodded.
“Go
then to the chamber, and inside wait for me and the boy. You will pay me eleven
turquoises, one for each of his seasons. When darkness falls, you will carry
the boy away and flee. With you he will be safer than here, or on the trail by
himself. Good care of him you must take and promise no harm to him will come.”
Indicating
approval of the conditions, one trader said, “We always care for our goods.
What value is property abused or sick?” They stepped off toward the grotto.
Ummbl
scurried into the Bearuff wickiup and motioned for the boy to follow. “Must I,
O, Priestess?” he exclaimed. “Only suns ago I did a call-down, long and
tiresome on the drum. Why another?”
“The
time is here for this moon’s atonement for the curse. Come.” Boy stroked the
pets, fed them a morsel, secured them in the cage and followed the priestess.
At the Passa, he straddled the log drum, took up heavy clubs and, like a loud
woodpecker, began beating and mumbling, “I am a no-moon, I am a demon.”
“Louder!”
Ummbl scolded, squatted in front of the drum, facing him with her back to the
village. “Make the people hear you!”
“I
was on a wrong sun born!”
“Why
do you live?”
“Through
the grace of Tungsee I live!” he shouted.
“Why
should you live?”
“I
should not live; I should die!”
“Why
should you die?” she jabbed.
“Because
my people I cursed and starved them of grain.”
“Keep
saying it!”
He
closed his eyes, kept drumming and, over and over, repeated his confession. “I
am of the devil born, wicked and damned! I am hollow and wrong and vain and a
danger to my people.” He flared his eyes wide as two men crept out of the
darkness and stood on either side of him. One carried a leather rope; the other
held a wadded pelt. They knelt, reached forward, ready to grab, tie, and gag
him—then they noticed the O on his brow.
“Pious-head!”
the lead trader bellowed to Ummbl as he jumped to his feet. “The O birth-sign!
He is a vile messenger of Tungsee! Not at any price can we sell him. High born!
You tricked us!”
“No,
no!” Priestess cried, panic stricken. “A birthmark, his O is not. The O is a
tattoo. It tells the story of an ancestry of grit; even the owl says so. This
boy’s parents are of high blood and stouthearted.”
“Ummbl,
you lie, lie, lie.” Turning to the boy on the drum, the trader asked, “Who are
you?”
“Scarface!”
The boy realized he was being sold into slavery. “I have no name other!” He
leapt off the log, knocked Ummbl aside, splattering her to the ground, and ran
toward the village.
The
trader bristled, stood over Ummbl, and shook his finger at her. “You concealed
Scarface, waiting to trade him for valuables.”
“That
O, I myself tattooed long ago!” the doctor erupted. “Birth-blotched with it, he
was not.”
“Not
that you are to be believed, but why is he a convicted demon?”
“He
is not. His confession is practice for a make-believe part in the Pageant of
the Husks.”
“Again
you lie. Nullifs have no tolerance for blotchy faces. They are deformed
god-beings out to control what we think and what the earth brings forth.
Nullifs are ordained earth-beings. It is our duty to banish gods. That scarface
yonder running is a pious-head. He will be removed from the face of the earth.
“As
for you, Priestess, lies and deceit Nullifs suffer not. You will be reported to
Javvaluk.” The traders hurried away, leaving the priestess in regret for having
created a bogey paradox. The O was a curse from Tungsee—a god. But Nullifs
opposed all gods. Ummbl had stirred up a religious war.
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