Read Online The Cellar Beneath the Cellar (Bell Mountain) by Lee Duigon - Free Book Online
Authors: Lee Duigon
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what the fellow called himself; Martis remembered now.
He hoped his now-white beard would keep anyone in Latt’s following from recognizing him. He wondered if Helki were still alive. For the time being, none of these outlaws seemed to have noticed the Temple insignia on his collar. Maybe his clothes had deteriorated more than he’d thought.
Martis decided to change the subject.
“A week or so ago,” he asked, “did any of you happen to hear something that sounded like a bell?”
A couple of the outlaws sat up straighter and stopped munching food. One or two had fallen asleep. Corris frowned.
“Aye, we all heard it. Everybody heard it,” he said. “It was just before sunrise. It woke up everyone who was sleeping. It woke up all the birds and made them crazy. It was hours before their noise died down.”
“They say it was a bell on Bell Mountain,” said another outlaw. “Some kind of curse!”
“I couldn’t imagine what it was,” Martis lied. “I thought one of you might know.”
“Nobody knows!” Corris said, and poked Martis in the chest, hard. “No more than anybody knows about all the queer animals that’ve been popping up around these parts the last year or so. Nobody knows a cusset thing.”
“I’ve seen some of those animals,” Martis said. “Gigantic birds, for one.”
“I think they must be coming up from the south,” Corris said. “They’ve got to be coming from somewhere, eh? But why they’ve moved up here, who knows? Maybe something bad, real bad, happened away down south, and the animals had to come north. Nobody knows what happens in the southlands. Nobody goes much farther south than the edge of the forest.”
“They say something bad’s going to happen here, too,” said one of the men.
“It already has!” Corris laughed. “Every Heathen fighting man from the mountains to the lakes is going to come this way, and soon. Just be thankful to Latt they’re going to bypass us in Lintum Forest. There ain’t no army on this earth can hold them back.”
In spite of himself, Jack fell asleep in the briar patch. He woke when the black night gave way to grey predawn, and found himself stiff and sore all over, with his teeth chattering from the cold. For a moment he couldn’t remember what he was doing there; it was as if he’d awakened from an evil dream. But as his eyes took in his surroundings, he realized where he was and that he was all alone. Wytt was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, fine!” he muttered. “What do I do now?”
He could start by crawling out of the briar patch. He emerged into a fog-shrouded grove of ghostly birches, feeling like the only human being left in all the world. For all he knew, he was: God might have taken everyone else, but overlooked him in the briar patch.
Where could he go? He was no woodsman. Eventually the outlaws would get him, or some fierce animal.
But then Wytt called out to him from somewhere in the fog.
“Boy, boy! Be still, be quiet. We are here!”
Leaves rustled. From out of the fog, out of the underbrush, came Wytt with the Forest Omah following.
There were more of them than Jack could count. Wytt’s fur was red, but these were grey, brown, with two or three coal-black ones. Their little eyes glittered. Most of them were even smaller than Wytt, but they all carried sharp little sticks. It would be quite easy to be afraid of them, Jack thought. They came silently, without chittering or chirping, and that made them more menacing. But there was nowhere to run, so Jack stood still.
In the little space in front of the briar patch, there wasn’t room for all of them. Jack couldn’t see them all, but he could sense them: a whole army of them.
“Omah will save Ellayne and White-face,” Wytt said. “Evil men, we kill. You come, too. We are ready.”
“Why do they do this for us, Wytt?”
If the little hairy man had understood a shrug, he would have shrugged. “We do this for you and for Ellayne. This we all
He hoped his now-white beard would keep anyone in Latt’s following from recognizing him. He wondered if Helki were still alive. For the time being, none of these outlaws seemed to have noticed the Temple insignia on his collar. Maybe his clothes had deteriorated more than he’d thought.
Martis decided to change the subject.
“A week or so ago,” he asked, “did any of you happen to hear something that sounded like a bell?”
A couple of the outlaws sat up straighter and stopped munching food. One or two had fallen asleep. Corris frowned.
“Aye, we all heard it. Everybody heard it,” he said. “It was just before sunrise. It woke up everyone who was sleeping. It woke up all the birds and made them crazy. It was hours before their noise died down.”
“They say it was a bell on Bell Mountain,” said another outlaw. “Some kind of curse!”
“I couldn’t imagine what it was,” Martis lied. “I thought one of you might know.”
“Nobody knows!” Corris said, and poked Martis in the chest, hard. “No more than anybody knows about all the queer animals that’ve been popping up around these parts the last year or so. Nobody knows a cusset thing.”
“I’ve seen some of those animals,” Martis said. “Gigantic birds, for one.”
“I think they must be coming up from the south,” Corris said. “They’ve got to be coming from somewhere, eh? But why they’ve moved up here, who knows? Maybe something bad, real bad, happened away down south, and the animals had to come north. Nobody knows what happens in the southlands. Nobody goes much farther south than the edge of the forest.”
“They say something bad’s going to happen here, too,” said one of the men.
“It already has!” Corris laughed. “Every Heathen fighting man from the mountains to the lakes is going to come this way, and soon. Just be thankful to Latt they’re going to bypass us in Lintum Forest. There ain’t no army on this earth can hold them back.”
In spite of himself, Jack fell asleep in the briar patch. He woke when the black night gave way to grey predawn, and found himself stiff and sore all over, with his teeth chattering from the cold. For a moment he couldn’t remember what he was doing there; it was as if he’d awakened from an evil dream. But as his eyes took in his surroundings, he realized where he was and that he was all alone. Wytt was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, fine!” he muttered. “What do I do now?”
He could start by crawling out of the briar patch. He emerged into a fog-shrouded grove of ghostly birches, feeling like the only human being left in all the world. For all he knew, he was: God might have taken everyone else, but overlooked him in the briar patch.
Where could he go? He was no woodsman. Eventually the outlaws would get him, or some fierce animal.
But then Wytt called out to him from somewhere in the fog.
“Boy, boy! Be still, be quiet. We are here!”
Leaves rustled. From out of the fog, out of the underbrush, came Wytt with the Forest Omah following.
There were more of them than Jack could count. Wytt’s fur was red, but these were grey, brown, with two or three coal-black ones. Their little eyes glittered. Most of them were even smaller than Wytt, but they all carried sharp little sticks. It would be quite easy to be afraid of them, Jack thought. They came silently, without chittering or chirping, and that made them more menacing. But there was nowhere to run, so Jack stood still.
In the little space in front of the briar patch, there wasn’t room for all of them. Jack couldn’t see them all, but he could sense them: a whole army of them.
“Omah will save Ellayne and White-face,” Wytt said. “Evil men, we kill. You come, too. We are ready.”
“Why do they do this for us, Wytt?”
If the little hairy man had understood a shrug, he would have shrugged. “We do this for you and for Ellayne. This we all
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