Post by L.E. Ott on Oct 23, 2006 1:12:50 GMT -5
"But Sherda, she has brought the wrath of Tal down on us! It is true!"
"Is it, Horla?
"You know great windstorms come from the south every few years. We had simply grown complacent when they did not come as often as they once had. We did not build the shelters in the old ways."
As the Thrade strode back to her hut, she heard the knife whistling towards her and caught it with not a look back. She whirled and flung it into the bony part of Horla's shoulder.
"I would advise you to go to the shamaness and make clean with the Gods before you EVER try that again."
A guard slid the door-flap of the hut open and Sherda stepped inside with a sigh.
"Talia. Talia, child, please, we must talk again."
The young girl stepped out of the shadows, a smile playing on her features.
"Yes, Mama?"
The Thrade smiled at the sight of her daughter. She knew she should remain firm, but it could not be helped. The windstorm had indeed been the fault of the child, but it had not been as bad as Horla made it out to be. In fact, his was the only hut damaged.
"Did you use your whistle again, when I had asked you not to?"
"Yes, Mama. I'm sorry. I just wanted Papa to come and play."
"I know, little one. I understand. Would that I could have spent more time with my own father. But Talia, because your father is who he is..."
"The God of Winds."
"Yes. Because he is a God, his idea of play might be a bit...disturbing to some of the people. You understand?"
"Yes."
"Now, give me the whistle."
The child reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled the offending item forth. Sherda took it and nodded, placing it on a shelf nearby.
"It will stay there for one week. When I give it back to you, I want a solemn promise that you will use it only in times of emergency, when perhaps you might need protection. Do you promise."
Talia muttered an affirmative and scuffed her shoe on the floor.
"Run along," Sherda said, sensing the girl's upset.
"Find your cousin and go play. Perhaps he'll race you to the river and back."
"Carlin won't run with me anymore. None of the other children will either. I always win."
"The wind is always at your back, eh?"
A nod.
"Well I have no answer for that. Perhaps it would be best if you went to speak with the shamaness. She may have solutions even a mother won't."
As Talia stepped outside with no more word, Sherda sighed again and rose, walking into the next room. Her companion Miko was sitting and sharpening a knife.
"You talk to that girl?"
"Aye. She's been sent to think on things."
"Good. You know, Sherda, perhaps you'd best send her off..."
"I can't do that, Miko. She's my child."
The tall man stood and shrugged.
"She's half a god. She scares the people..."
"If you're scared, get out of my home."
To her shock, he did just that. He turned and left. Sherda was displeased.
"Damn you, Tal," she muttered, "you got me into all of this. For the rest of my life I'll pray for just one day when your winds don't blow."
"Is it, Horla?
"You know great windstorms come from the south every few years. We had simply grown complacent when they did not come as often as they once had. We did not build the shelters in the old ways."
As the Thrade strode back to her hut, she heard the knife whistling towards her and caught it with not a look back. She whirled and flung it into the bony part of Horla's shoulder.
"I would advise you to go to the shamaness and make clean with the Gods before you EVER try that again."
A guard slid the door-flap of the hut open and Sherda stepped inside with a sigh.
"Talia. Talia, child, please, we must talk again."
The young girl stepped out of the shadows, a smile playing on her features.
"Yes, Mama?"
The Thrade smiled at the sight of her daughter. She knew she should remain firm, but it could not be helped. The windstorm had indeed been the fault of the child, but it had not been as bad as Horla made it out to be. In fact, his was the only hut damaged.
"Did you use your whistle again, when I had asked you not to?"
"Yes, Mama. I'm sorry. I just wanted Papa to come and play."
"I know, little one. I understand. Would that I could have spent more time with my own father. But Talia, because your father is who he is..."
"The God of Winds."
"Yes. Because he is a God, his idea of play might be a bit...disturbing to some of the people. You understand?"
"Yes."
"Now, give me the whistle."
The child reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled the offending item forth. Sherda took it and nodded, placing it on a shelf nearby.
"It will stay there for one week. When I give it back to you, I want a solemn promise that you will use it only in times of emergency, when perhaps you might need protection. Do you promise."
Talia muttered an affirmative and scuffed her shoe on the floor.
"Run along," Sherda said, sensing the girl's upset.
"Find your cousin and go play. Perhaps he'll race you to the river and back."
"Carlin won't run with me anymore. None of the other children will either. I always win."
"The wind is always at your back, eh?"
A nod.
"Well I have no answer for that. Perhaps it would be best if you went to speak with the shamaness. She may have solutions even a mother won't."
As Talia stepped outside with no more word, Sherda sighed again and rose, walking into the next room. Her companion Miko was sitting and sharpening a knife.
"You talk to that girl?"
"Aye. She's been sent to think on things."
"Good. You know, Sherda, perhaps you'd best send her off..."
"I can't do that, Miko. She's my child."
The tall man stood and shrugged.
"She's half a god. She scares the people..."
"If you're scared, get out of my home."
To her shock, he did just that. He turned and left. Sherda was displeased.
"Damn you, Tal," she muttered, "you got me into all of this. For the rest of my life I'll pray for just one day when your winds don't blow."