Read Online Schism: The Battle for Darracia (Book 1) by Michael Phillip Cash - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Phillip Cash
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came to a stop where her hut rested in the cradle of two trees. Inside, her worthless son-in-law lay swinging in his hammock, while her daughter Losa, pounded epocks, sweet roots, for their dinner.
Losa was a platter-faced Quyroo, her nose flattened by Mori’s abuse over the years. She had one eyelid that was permanently pulled downward, due to an accident at her birth. Never a pretty female, she had settled for Mori who was equally unattractive. His red skin was blotchy from years of abusing krayum, a potent homebrew liquor, that seemed to settle around his bulging midsection. He used the excuse of his one lame foot for all the indignities in life they suffered, when in fact, he was known for both his laziness and thievery. This had earned them a place on the bottom of the forest in a tiny, circular, one-roomed hut made from the red branches of the Desa that barely kept them dry. They had room for a simple fire to cook and keep warm, three swinging hammocks and not much else. They had to be content with the leavings thrown from the top tree dwellers to satisfy their primal needs.
“ Tulani has come,” she stated coldly, and turned to her communication device. “Mori, leave. I have need of privacy,” she told her son-in-law.
“ I am comfortable, Bobbien. Go outside. My head aches,” Mori whined back.
“ I said Tulani has come. Don’t you want to see her?”
“ She behaved disrespectfully the last time she was here. I have nothing to say.”
“ Eeeehai,” she scoffed. “She only asked for you to help me.” She turned to her daughter, who was pounding the root, ignoring the conversation, a sullen look on her face.
“ He won’t leave, Mo’mo. Take your business outside,” her daughter told her, and went back to the monotonous pounding.
The older Quyroo eyed the younger one , wondering what kept him glued to his hammock. Oh, he was lazy, but he knew the value of the queen to their small clan. They needed the funds and supplies she gave them in exchange for Tulani’s service as well as Bobbien’s spells. He was hiding something; that was for sure. Mori, with a smug look in his puffy face, looked excited. Bobbien gazed again at her daughter, who turned her back, lest she give something away, but a furtive glance at a sack near the firepit caught her eye.
“ What have you there?” the old woman demanded, stomping over it.
Mori jumped out of the hammock with a speed she had never seen. Her daughter dropped the epock root on the dirt floo r, and stood before the bulging sack.
Though she was old, Bobbien had continued to swing from the treetops and had a powerful upper torso . She shoved her daughter and Mori away with muscled arms, snarling at their Bottom-Dweller weakness.
“ Crystals!” she cried. After sticking a hand into the bag to find it filled with sticky newly formed randam, she pulled a handful out. “Fools! You want to get caught?”
The randam crystals were controlled by the Quyroo League for trade. It was illegal for Bottom Dwellers to even be near them. “They will send you to the caves,” she said, as she stared at her daughter with horror.
“ You are a high priestess, a daughter of Nost. I will get a slap on the wrist,” Mori said nonchalantly.
“ They will condemn us all to the caves. I will never see Tulani again. Even the queen will not be able to save us.”
“ Who cares about that one?” Mori responded hotly. “What has she ever brought us? The trees are here for all of us. Their bounty belongs to everyone, not a chosen few, Bobbien!” Mori’s yellow eyes narrowed. “I’ve had enough of grubbing on the forest floor for a few tasteless roots.” He kicked the epock root so that it hit the hut wall with a thud. “Like it or not, I refuse to live on the leavings of the royal family. We will go to join the settlement on Aqin.”
“You will die there.” Bobbien stood tall, her expression somber. “Think, daughter, of what you are
Losa was a platter-faced Quyroo, her nose flattened by Mori’s abuse over the years. She had one eyelid that was permanently pulled downward, due to an accident at her birth. Never a pretty female, she had settled for Mori who was equally unattractive. His red skin was blotchy from years of abusing krayum, a potent homebrew liquor, that seemed to settle around his bulging midsection. He used the excuse of his one lame foot for all the indignities in life they suffered, when in fact, he was known for both his laziness and thievery. This had earned them a place on the bottom of the forest in a tiny, circular, one-roomed hut made from the red branches of the Desa that barely kept them dry. They had room for a simple fire to cook and keep warm, three swinging hammocks and not much else. They had to be content with the leavings thrown from the top tree dwellers to satisfy their primal needs.
“ Tulani has come,” she stated coldly, and turned to her communication device. “Mori, leave. I have need of privacy,” she told her son-in-law.
“ I am comfortable, Bobbien. Go outside. My head aches,” Mori whined back.
“ I said Tulani has come. Don’t you want to see her?”
“ She behaved disrespectfully the last time she was here. I have nothing to say.”
“ Eeeehai,” she scoffed. “She only asked for you to help me.” She turned to her daughter, who was pounding the root, ignoring the conversation, a sullen look on her face.
“ He won’t leave, Mo’mo. Take your business outside,” her daughter told her, and went back to the monotonous pounding.
The older Quyroo eyed the younger one , wondering what kept him glued to his hammock. Oh, he was lazy, but he knew the value of the queen to their small clan. They needed the funds and supplies she gave them in exchange for Tulani’s service as well as Bobbien’s spells. He was hiding something; that was for sure. Mori, with a smug look in his puffy face, looked excited. Bobbien gazed again at her daughter, who turned her back, lest she give something away, but a furtive glance at a sack near the firepit caught her eye.
“ What have you there?” the old woman demanded, stomping over it.
Mori jumped out of the hammock with a speed she had never seen. Her daughter dropped the epock root on the dirt floo r, and stood before the bulging sack.
Though she was old, Bobbien had continued to swing from the treetops and had a powerful upper torso . She shoved her daughter and Mori away with muscled arms, snarling at their Bottom-Dweller weakness.
“ Crystals!” she cried. After sticking a hand into the bag to find it filled with sticky newly formed randam, she pulled a handful out. “Fools! You want to get caught?”
The randam crystals were controlled by the Quyroo League for trade. It was illegal for Bottom Dwellers to even be near them. “They will send you to the caves,” she said, as she stared at her daughter with horror.
“ You are a high priestess, a daughter of Nost. I will get a slap on the wrist,” Mori said nonchalantly.
“ They will condemn us all to the caves. I will never see Tulani again. Even the queen will not be able to save us.”
“ Who cares about that one?” Mori responded hotly. “What has she ever brought us? The trees are here for all of us. Their bounty belongs to everyone, not a chosen few, Bobbien!” Mori’s yellow eyes narrowed. “I’ve had enough of grubbing on the forest floor for a few tasteless roots.” He kicked the epock root so that it hit the hut wall with a thud. “Like it or not, I refuse to live on the leavings of the royal family. We will go to join the settlement on Aqin.”
“You will die there.” Bobbien stood tall, her expression somber. “Think, daughter, of what you are
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