Read Online The Anatomist's Dream by Clio Gray - Free Book Online

immune to her own condition and keenly regretted Lita’s absence, giving a short, heartrending speech to anyone who would listen as the tears fell down the uncooked pastry layers of her face.
    â€˜I cannot bear to be this big, but I don’t know how to be any other way. And I cannot bear my own stench, nor that it has finally driven Lita away. Have someone drag my cart down to the river, hack out the boards and throw me in. Walk away and leave me. At least I’ll get to be outside again, if only for the few moments before I sink. And I’ll get to see something other than the same view of those behind and those ahead, and the roads and the mud and the arse-end of one town followed by the back-end of the next . . .’
    Otto was moved by the woman’s plight and by Philbert’s attempt at a solution, ashamed he’d not come up with the idea himself. He stroked his beard, pulling the gold-and-grey streaks of it into tracks, revealing a small hint of lips moving somewhere beneath the overlying scrub of hair, because it was indeed an elegant solution.
    â€˜So once we’ve built this cart of yours, Philbert, how do you propose to propel it?’
    He’d already formed an answer but wanted to push Philbert into thinking of it for himself.
    â€˜We could pull it ourselves?’ Philbert asked, at which Stellmacher had to laugh, a sound akin to the spilt water he sent over his anvil sometimes to cool it down, then bent down and drew his finger through the sand.
    â€˜Like this,’ he said, making several lines. ‘This is the shaft, and these are called sides; here are the summers, shutlocks and cross keys. We’ll build big wheels rimmed round in iron, and place the fore-carriage just above the axle to give it more strength, for my God, the strength they shall need!’
    He chuckled, swore Philbert to agreeing he would learn the names of each bit of wood, the square, the aft and fore, the bevel and pin. Philbert hung his head and accepted his fate, understanding that a man should suffer for his friends, unaware how much they would suffer for him in the future.
    He took all Otto’s instructions and worked harder than he had ever done. Otto’s hands were tough and strong as tanner’s boards, unlike his which were soft, and wept blisters in their misery. He planed the ash, hewed the oak, lathed the shafts and cornered the keys. They made the cart narrower at the front so that when tipped it would loosen its load the easier.
    â€˜Very important,’ said Otto, ‘particularly considering the load.’
    He taught Philbert to rest his wrist on his knee so he didn’t chop off his fingers with knife or saw, how to drive in a nail without splitting the board. Philbert watched as Otto fitted the felloes of the rim, shouldered the spokes, swung the hammer to drive them harder into the stock, admiring the way he dished the wheel so it leant in at the top, out at the bottom. And then together they painted the finished product the glorious green that only a mixture of white-lead and arsenic can give, and when dried and all was ready, the cart shining and gleaming, it was late in the evening, but no one wanted to wait and away they went to Frau Fettleheim’s, solemnly knocking on the boards, announcing that the carriage awaited its queen.
    It was a truly glorious creation, just the right height to shift Frau Fettleheim over from caravan to cart, and the fat lady squawked with delight, kicking up her ankles, sending a ripple through bloomers and chins and her very best dress. Once satisfied everything was in order, Otto took the reins and led the donkey off, slowly at first, Frau Fettleheim sighing with delight just to breathe fresh air, and down the field they went towards the river, people looking up from whatever they were doing as they passed, gasping at the sight, soon starting to laugh, whoop and whistle, flinging caps into the air as they followed the