Manly Wade Wellman - Hok 01 Read Online Free PDF

itself upon him.
                 On
the instant Hok was fighting for his life. One glimpse he caught of that
distorted, black-bearded face before they grappled—it was Kimri, the giant who
had sworn to follow him and take Oloana back. He was an adversary to daunt the
bravest; but Hok had faced Gnorrls, which were more horrible. Smaller but
quicker than Kimri, he locked his arms around the huge body in a python-tight
underhold. His tawny head burrowed with canny force into Kimri’s shaggy cascade
of black beard, driving under the heavy jaw and forcing it upward and back.
                 The
dark forest man’s huge muscles began to sag as Hok increased the leverage.
Hok’s heel crooked behind Kimri’s, Hok’s entire weight came suddenly forward.
Down they went with a crash of undergrowth, Kimri beneath, while his lighter
opponent’s oak-hard fingers drove through the beard-tangles, finding and
closing upon the throat beneath.
                 But
a flurry of feet drummed down upon them as they strove on the ground. Two
sinewy hands damped under Hok’s chin from above and behind. He bit a finger to
the bone, heard his new assailant howl, and next instant was yanked bodily away
from the prostrate Kimri. As he tumbled he tore free, whirled catlike to get
his feet under his body, and rose swiftly to face a second blackbeard ,
shorter and older than Kimri. But something darted forward to quiver a
thumb’s-breadth from his heart — a long, lean dagger of chipped flint.
                 “Move!”
the newcomer dared him. It was Zorr, Oloana’s chieftain-father. “Move—and die!”
                 Hok
stood motionless. Kimri struggled up, wheezing and cherishing his bruised
throat with shaking fingers. He gulped welcome air into his great lungs, then seized his fallen axe.
                 “No!”
barked the father of Oloana. “The rope!”
                 At
the voice of authority, Kimri dropped his axe and jerked from his girdle a coil
of rawhide line. Quickly he flung a loop of it over Hok’s shoulders and ran the
rest of it round and round, pinioning the prisoner’s arms to his body.
                 The
chief lowered his dagger. “Where is Oloana?”
                 Hok
shook his head.
                 “Answer!”
roared Kimri, and struck Hok’s mouth with his homy palm. Blood sprang to the
bruised lips as Hok curled them in scorn.
                 “Coward’s
blow,” he mocked. “Untie me, and I will take the head from your body like a
berry from a bush.”
                 “Where
is Oloana?” demanded Zorr again.
                 “I
do not know. I set her free.”
                 “You
lie,” raged Kimri. “Tell us where you have hidden her.”
                 “I
say that she is free,” insisted Hok.
                 “Tell
us,” Kimri repeated, “or we will kill you.”
                 “You
will kill me anyway,” said Hok.
                 Kimri’s
beard bristled, and again he clutched his axe. As before, the chief intervened.
                 “It
is nearly night, Kimri. We will camp. He can think until morning.” He studied
Hok narrowly. “Tomorrow, if his mouth is still empty of the words we want, we
will stuff it with hot coals.”
                 Kimri
grunted acquiescence, and the two herded their prisoner through the trees for
nearly a mile. In a grove at the top of a brush-faced slope they came to a
halt, shoved Hok violently down at the base of a big tree and tethered him
between two gnarled roots with the free end of the rawhide. Then Zorr kindled a
fire with rubbing sticks, chanting a ritual similar to the one Hok’s people
used. The forest men produced flitches of dried venison from their belt-bags
and began to eat, talking in low tones.
                 Darkness
came. The two dark men stretched