Read Online Lupus Rex by John Carter Cash - Free Book Online

recalled that first trip to the field very clearly. He remembered how he had been dreadfully afraid, asking his father why they had to go. How his father had said that the vultures carried the spirits of all animals who died to the Great Field, that in life we pay our respects at least once (this being the way of the hare), for in death, we are, at least in part, eternally theirs. Father said this was a good thing. He said that we were, birds and animals alike, all bound to return to the earth; but a small part would go to the sky . . . the part that belonged to the vultures.
    Ekbeth watched on high from her roost as the hare and his company approached the great dead tree. She offered her hideous, gaping scowl to give cheerful greeting, and for the mother of all vultures, this was the best she could do.
    “You are welcome here, Sulari of man’s field,” she said. “You are welcome here in life as you are in death.”
    “Thank you, Mother,” said Sulari. “We have come under command of the murder. The King is dead and the Reckoning for the new King has come.”
    “Yes, I have heard.” She gazed to the far side of the sycamore where three mourning doves sat, perched precariously on an outer limb. “We have sent envoys. They will be there come evening.”
    Doves flew skyward, though quail did not. And though Sulari thought he had seen these doves before, he was certain they were not of his field. Doves traveled as the seasons commanded, and these lines never changed. One dove who moved through this area in the fall would likely not move through the Murder’s Field, or the man’s field as the vulture called it (the vultures gave no credit to the crow’s claim), unless they both lay on the same migration route. Perhaps it was through these lines that the rumor of doves traveled? Perhaps whisperings on the wind? Perhaps this is how they had come to know of the death of the King? Sulari never considered doves too long, and he pushed off these thoughts of the little birds.
    Cotur Mono and Rompus moved up next to Sulari, for comfort’s sake and to gather in the talk with the vulture. “The new King will be crowned tonight,” said Ekbeth. “Unless one offers disregard. But that has happened only once that I know of, and long before my time.” Ekbeth seemed to forget what she was talking about for a moment and stared at the sky. Then she examined Sulari. “You are too young to remember the last Reckoning, eh, hare?”
    “Aye, Mother. It was before I was birthed, even. Was early in the winter of my father’s time. He did not speak much of it, only to say that he was excited to see the new young King. Did the animals come to this field with the Reckoning before?”
    “Yes, yes they did, and they always have. Thinking of it now, your father was here, as was your mother. Of course they are here now.” Sulari gazed out upon the blanket of white bones covering the ground and fidgeted. “Now, each time the animals come to shelter here we ask the same question, and we will ask it of you now.” With that some of the vultures flew down and perched upon the branch with Ekbeth. Harlequin moved up into the forward group, closer to Cotur Mono. Ekbeth glanced at the young beautiful bird, and for a moment Sulari thought he saw something dark gather in the old vulture’s eye. Was it hunger?
    Then she spoke, the vultures around her joined, whispering the same words in time through their haggard and stained beaks. As the chorus of voices sang the offer, Sulari chilled. It was a song, and though the words held rhythm, the melody was vague and sad, as if sung by a toad trapped beneath the sod during winter’s freeze.
     
    Come, furry and feathered
    Come, strong; and come, weak
    Come; gather your forms
    Near our guarding beaks.
     
    As you live we will keep you
    Protect from on high
    And tend you and feed you
    ’Til you happily die.
     
    And then we will bear you
    Up to the clouds
    Tight in our bellies
    Our bodies your