Read Online The Traiteur's Ring by Jeffrey Wilson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeffrey Wilson
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man smiled at him and dropped his arms as the women continued their chant. Ben tried to smile back.
The man stood up with surprising grace and fluidity, and in a blink he stood toe-to-toe with Ben who shifted uncomfortably despite the man’s disarming smile. The man pulled Ben’s right hand free from beneath the little girl, and he had to shift her weight into his left arm to keep from dropping her. Then, the man bent over at the waist and pulled Ben’s hand to his face. The bare-chested villager stared for a moment at the ring on Ben’s middle finger which sparkled back at him with a bright golden shine that nearly glowed. Then, he pressed his lips to the ring.
Ben stepped back in surprise when the man suddenly stood bolt upright, his face turned up to the ceiling.
“Ganada day not tai!” he shouted, and the three women popped to their feet, suddenly chattering and smiling, surrounded Ben, and each pulled at his arms and shirt. He held the girl close, not sure what else to do.
“Wow,” the surgeon said from behind him. “They seem to like you, huh?’
“Yeah,” Ben said. He felt a little dizzy, and his right hand tingled with pins and needles, but not at all like when your hand falls asleep from lying on it funny. More like little bolts of electricity shooting up from where he had perhaps inadvertently put his middle finger in a wall socket. He felt claustrophobic as the four adult villagers chattered, laughed, and pawed at his arms and body. He stepped backwards towards the door but the four moved with him. For a moment he felt a little like he couldn’t take a breath.
“Stop,” he hollered out louder than he intended.
In unison, the villagers dropped to their knees, the old woman with a muted grunt. Their eyes dropped to the floor, their arms again outstretched and palms up. The large man made a grunting sound, and they again began a soft and melodic chant.
“Jesus,” Ben breathed and stepped around the women behind him to get away and closer to the door. He looked down at the ring, which as he watched shifted from the gold of a moment ago to a deep purple. As it did, the little electric shocks disappeared. He tightened his grip on the little girl. His eyes glued to the strange chanting people in front of him, he stepped with a heel onto the Colonel’s foot and nearly stumbled. “Shit,…sorry.”
“No problem,” the surgeon replied, his voice hollow. “Did you do something miraculous at that village?”
“No,” Ben answered as images of the little girl’s injuries and healing, the old man’s voice in his head, and the horrible pictures of the rape and torture of the village flashed on the screen of his mind. “I barely did anything, and what we did do was too damn late for most of them.”
You are a Seer; you will know what to do.
But he didn’t. He had no clue what he could do other than get these survivors, the end of their people, somewhere safe. What would happen to them then, he had no idea.
Ben looked into the big, dark eyes of the beautiful little girl he held, and she smiled at him and leaned into him. What would happen to her? With a lot of luck she could maybe have a long life working food service at a camp in Djibouti. Nice fucking life that would be, huh?
He kissed her gently on the cheek and, then, touched one of the women gently on the shoulder. She looked up at him with a face full of awe, her mouth open.
“Please,” he said and leaned down to hand the child to her. The woman took the girl and smiled at him with a nod. Ben wiped tears from his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he said, but knew she didn’t understand.
With great effort he turned to the doctor, who watched him with unmasked concern.
“You sure you’re, okay?” he asked
“Yeah,” Ben answered. “Let’s get out of here.”
He felt the silent stares on him as he pushed through the door, but didn’t turn around, even when the cough-like grunt announced the chanting should
The man stood up with surprising grace and fluidity, and in a blink he stood toe-to-toe with Ben who shifted uncomfortably despite the man’s disarming smile. The man pulled Ben’s right hand free from beneath the little girl, and he had to shift her weight into his left arm to keep from dropping her. Then, the man bent over at the waist and pulled Ben’s hand to his face. The bare-chested villager stared for a moment at the ring on Ben’s middle finger which sparkled back at him with a bright golden shine that nearly glowed. Then, he pressed his lips to the ring.
Ben stepped back in surprise when the man suddenly stood bolt upright, his face turned up to the ceiling.
“Ganada day not tai!” he shouted, and the three women popped to their feet, suddenly chattering and smiling, surrounded Ben, and each pulled at his arms and shirt. He held the girl close, not sure what else to do.
“Wow,” the surgeon said from behind him. “They seem to like you, huh?’
“Yeah,” Ben said. He felt a little dizzy, and his right hand tingled with pins and needles, but not at all like when your hand falls asleep from lying on it funny. More like little bolts of electricity shooting up from where he had perhaps inadvertently put his middle finger in a wall socket. He felt claustrophobic as the four adult villagers chattered, laughed, and pawed at his arms and body. He stepped backwards towards the door but the four moved with him. For a moment he felt a little like he couldn’t take a breath.
“Stop,” he hollered out louder than he intended.
In unison, the villagers dropped to their knees, the old woman with a muted grunt. Their eyes dropped to the floor, their arms again outstretched and palms up. The large man made a grunting sound, and they again began a soft and melodic chant.
“Jesus,” Ben breathed and stepped around the women behind him to get away and closer to the door. He looked down at the ring, which as he watched shifted from the gold of a moment ago to a deep purple. As it did, the little electric shocks disappeared. He tightened his grip on the little girl. His eyes glued to the strange chanting people in front of him, he stepped with a heel onto the Colonel’s foot and nearly stumbled. “Shit,…sorry.”
“No problem,” the surgeon replied, his voice hollow. “Did you do something miraculous at that village?”
“No,” Ben answered as images of the little girl’s injuries and healing, the old man’s voice in his head, and the horrible pictures of the rape and torture of the village flashed on the screen of his mind. “I barely did anything, and what we did do was too damn late for most of them.”
You are a Seer; you will know what to do.
But he didn’t. He had no clue what he could do other than get these survivors, the end of their people, somewhere safe. What would happen to them then, he had no idea.
Ben looked into the big, dark eyes of the beautiful little girl he held, and she smiled at him and leaned into him. What would happen to her? With a lot of luck she could maybe have a long life working food service at a camp in Djibouti. Nice fucking life that would be, huh?
He kissed her gently on the cheek and, then, touched one of the women gently on the shoulder. She looked up at him with a face full of awe, her mouth open.
“Please,” he said and leaned down to hand the child to her. The woman took the girl and smiled at him with a nod. Ben wiped tears from his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he said, but knew she didn’t understand.
With great effort he turned to the doctor, who watched him with unmasked concern.
“You sure you’re, okay?” he asked
“Yeah,” Ben answered. “Let’s get out of here.”
He felt the silent stares on him as he pushed through the door, but didn’t turn around, even when the cough-like grunt announced the chanting should
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