Read Online The Scorpion God: Three Short Novels by William Golding - Free Book Online
Authors: William Golding
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didn’t——”
“Just one moment, Liar.’’ The Head Man turned to Pretty Flower. “Shall I?”
She opened her lips, but no sound came out. The Head Man lifted a finger.
“Let him go.”
The two soldiers backed away from the Liar, glistening. They unslung their spears and held them pointed at him as if he were a beast in a net. He began to talk again, quickly, desperately, from person to person.
‘‘Poison is cruel. You may say it doesn’t hurt but how do you know? Come now, have you ever been poisoned? I have many secrets that would be of use to you. I could even stop the river rising—but I must have time, time! We don’t any of us like being frightened, do we? It’s horrible to be frightened—horrible, horrible!”
The Head Man interrupted him.
“We aren’t frightening you, Liar!”
“Then why, when I stop speaking, do my teeth sing in my head?”
The Head Man put out his hand to the Liar who flinched away.
“Calm yourself, my dear man. Nothing is going to happen to you. Not at this moment.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. Let there be a pause. Relax, Liar. Just lie down and curl up comfortably on the mat.”
The Liar looked suspiciously at him; but the Head Man only nodded and smiled. The Liar put out one hand to the floor, knelt, looking up sideways. He glanced round him, winced at the sight of the spears, then slowly laid himself down. He pulled himself into a parody of the foetal position; but no foetus was ever so tense, so quivering. No foetus ever stared so, up, sideways, and round.
The Head Man glanced at the swollen river and winced from it as the Liar had winced from the spears. Visibly he pulled himself together.
“Now, Liar. There’s nothing to be frightened of. We have all the time in the world.”
He saw an unblinking eye, looking up warily as a crab under a rock.
“Close your eyes. Let everything go.”
The eye closed, snapped open, then shut once more but left a gleaming slit. The Head Man spoke softly.
“Let us think of real things.”
The Liar jerked and quivered on the floor.
“Death. Murder. Lust. The pit.”
“No! No! Gentle things, soft things, homely things!”
The gleam shivered, expanded, then disappeared. The foetus murmured against the floor.
“Wind on the cheeks. Coolth.”
“Good.”
“White flakes tumbling. Mountains that wear a white cloak——”
“There you go again! Real things, I said!”
“White men. Pure, white women, ivory and gold—strangers all—and thus available. Oh the kindness of a strange woman by a strange hearth!”
The Head Man was so strung up that he sniggered then glanced at Pretty Flower apologetically. Her dress was shivering again.
“Listen Liar. Now you are calm, I am going to make one last appeal to your generosity. You are dear to the God. It angers Him that you will not go to Him. Accept the gift of eternal life—for our sake!”
The Liar yelled.
“No!”
“Wait. We understand you are sick and ungenerous. Therefore to help you help us, we will be generous too. We will give you as much as we gave Him.”
“Bribery?”
But the Head Man was not listening. He had begun to pace round and round the Liar, whose head followed his movements like the head of a snake.
“Mind, even that may not be enough. After what I have heard recently, He may be so angry that—but we must do what we can. Do you suppose we ask you to join the others in the periphery and lie there merely heat-dried? Oh no, indeed! We will take off the stones and the beams——”
“What are you talking about?”
“You shall lie by the God Himself. In no less than three coffins, the innermost to be made of such materials—however rich—as you shall specify.”
The Liar was kneeling. He yelled again.
“You old fool!”
“Wait till I finish. We will cut you open and clean you out. We will pull your brains through your nostrils and fill your skull with liquid fragrance——”
And carried away, the Head Man was making ample
“Just one moment, Liar.’’ The Head Man turned to Pretty Flower. “Shall I?”
She opened her lips, but no sound came out. The Head Man lifted a finger.
“Let him go.”
The two soldiers backed away from the Liar, glistening. They unslung their spears and held them pointed at him as if he were a beast in a net. He began to talk again, quickly, desperately, from person to person.
‘‘Poison is cruel. You may say it doesn’t hurt but how do you know? Come now, have you ever been poisoned? I have many secrets that would be of use to you. I could even stop the river rising—but I must have time, time! We don’t any of us like being frightened, do we? It’s horrible to be frightened—horrible, horrible!”
The Head Man interrupted him.
“We aren’t frightening you, Liar!”
“Then why, when I stop speaking, do my teeth sing in my head?”
The Head Man put out his hand to the Liar who flinched away.
“Calm yourself, my dear man. Nothing is going to happen to you. Not at this moment.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. Let there be a pause. Relax, Liar. Just lie down and curl up comfortably on the mat.”
The Liar looked suspiciously at him; but the Head Man only nodded and smiled. The Liar put out one hand to the floor, knelt, looking up sideways. He glanced round him, winced at the sight of the spears, then slowly laid himself down. He pulled himself into a parody of the foetal position; but no foetus was ever so tense, so quivering. No foetus ever stared so, up, sideways, and round.
The Head Man glanced at the swollen river and winced from it as the Liar had winced from the spears. Visibly he pulled himself together.
“Now, Liar. There’s nothing to be frightened of. We have all the time in the world.”
He saw an unblinking eye, looking up warily as a crab under a rock.
“Close your eyes. Let everything go.”
The eye closed, snapped open, then shut once more but left a gleaming slit. The Head Man spoke softly.
“Let us think of real things.”
The Liar jerked and quivered on the floor.
“Death. Murder. Lust. The pit.”
“No! No! Gentle things, soft things, homely things!”
The gleam shivered, expanded, then disappeared. The foetus murmured against the floor.
“Wind on the cheeks. Coolth.”
“Good.”
“White flakes tumbling. Mountains that wear a white cloak——”
“There you go again! Real things, I said!”
“White men. Pure, white women, ivory and gold—strangers all—and thus available. Oh the kindness of a strange woman by a strange hearth!”
The Head Man was so strung up that he sniggered then glanced at Pretty Flower apologetically. Her dress was shivering again.
“Listen Liar. Now you are calm, I am going to make one last appeal to your generosity. You are dear to the God. It angers Him that you will not go to Him. Accept the gift of eternal life—for our sake!”
The Liar yelled.
“No!”
“Wait. We understand you are sick and ungenerous. Therefore to help you help us, we will be generous too. We will give you as much as we gave Him.”
“Bribery?”
But the Head Man was not listening. He had begun to pace round and round the Liar, whose head followed his movements like the head of a snake.
“Mind, even that may not be enough. After what I have heard recently, He may be so angry that—but we must do what we can. Do you suppose we ask you to join the others in the periphery and lie there merely heat-dried? Oh no, indeed! We will take off the stones and the beams——”
“What are you talking about?”
“You shall lie by the God Himself. In no less than three coffins, the innermost to be made of such materials—however rich—as you shall specify.”
The Liar was kneeling. He yelled again.
“You old fool!”
“Wait till I finish. We will cut you open and clean you out. We will pull your brains through your nostrils and fill your skull with liquid fragrance——”
And carried away, the Head Man was making ample
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