The Ancient Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Christopher Rowley
when they said their prayers at the shrine. He had come to accept the perpetual hunger and the hard physical labor. He had learned a great deal, and somewhere along the way he had regained a sense of peace. Even his broken heart had become less important, less relevant to him somehow. It was as if he had moved on from that person of the previous summer, so devastated and out of sorts. There was still a void in his center, there was something gone that would never be recovered, but he was no longer crippled by it.
Thru had left his thick jerkin in the cell and wore just a light shirt and a much-patched pair of trousers that were his most comfortable clothes, though he knew his sister and mother would have scolded him for wearing such shabby things.
In Master Sassadzu's gallery, Thru wove a decorative mat, working in waterbush-withe and colored grasses. By tradition carried down for thousands of years there were only a handful of acceptable patterns among weavers of the Land. He had chosen "Chooks and Beetles," a rich pattern with ocher-colored chooks chasing beetles in the center. Around them were shooks of corn in bright yellow and crossed scythes.
In a bold departure from the usual style he had outlined his chooks and beetles in black and given the big birds a jaunty, raffish air. He was quite pleased with the look of them, and was working a bright green grass onto the ground weave to fill out the background.
The chooks in the center of the mat were all done; they had a fine rakish appearance, feathers slightly askew, eyes big as onions as they hunted the leaping beetles.
The rows of corn shooks and scythes were nearing completion. Their bright yellow and red stood out sharply from the green background. He took up stained red grass and bent forward to work some in on the undersides of the scythes.
Master Sassadzu had complimented Thru on this mat, which he thought had shown signs of a great skill. Praise from Master Sassadzu was rare and was consequently treasured.
Thru worked in a corner where even in Snow Moon the sunlight warmed a patch of floor. He was cut off from view of the door by the curve of the gallery and several large looms but he sensed someone had entered the long gallery at the far end. Thru's right eyebrow rose quizzically. Master Sassadzu taught his intermediate kyo class at this hour. It would not be him, but it was definitely an Assenzi from the quietness of the tread.
A couple of seconds later he was surprised to see Utnapishtim come around the other looms and head in his direction.
"Greetings, young Thru Gillo."
"Greetings, Utnapishtim."
"That is a very vibrant mat you are weaving."
"Thank you, Utnapishtim."
"I like the rakish attitude of your chooks. You have changed the pattern a little from the traditional mode."
"Thank you, Utnapishtim. I like the old pattern very much, but I thought I'd try something new."
Utnapishtim's thin face broke open in a tiny smile.
"Young Thru Gillo, I have a requirement, and I wonder if you would like to fill it. I need two students to help me light the summer lamps in the temples of the Farblow Hills. It will take a few weeks' travel. We will pass through Dronned to get there."
Thru was stunned at this honor, though just for a moment he wondered about going home so soon, if only to visit. Would it reopen old wounds? Then he dismissed the concern.
"I would be proud to be chosen to help you, Utnapishtim."
"Of course there will be some work involved."
Thru merely nodded. What else would anyone expect in Highnoth?
"The temples are very popular destinations for hikers in the summer months. So it's important that they have working lamps. But that means we must carry lamp oil to them. I need some strong young backs and a couple of donkeys to move the oil up into the hills and distribute it."
"I have not seen the Farblow Hills, but I have heard of their beauty. After this long winter I would love such an opportunity."
"We will head south in three days'
Thru had left his thick jerkin in the cell and wore just a light shirt and a much-patched pair of trousers that were his most comfortable clothes, though he knew his sister and mother would have scolded him for wearing such shabby things.
In Master Sassadzu's gallery, Thru wove a decorative mat, working in waterbush-withe and colored grasses. By tradition carried down for thousands of years there were only a handful of acceptable patterns among weavers of the Land. He had chosen "Chooks and Beetles," a rich pattern with ocher-colored chooks chasing beetles in the center. Around them were shooks of corn in bright yellow and crossed scythes.
In a bold departure from the usual style he had outlined his chooks and beetles in black and given the big birds a jaunty, raffish air. He was quite pleased with the look of them, and was working a bright green grass onto the ground weave to fill out the background.
The chooks in the center of the mat were all done; they had a fine rakish appearance, feathers slightly askew, eyes big as onions as they hunted the leaping beetles.
The rows of corn shooks and scythes were nearing completion. Their bright yellow and red stood out sharply from the green background. He took up stained red grass and bent forward to work some in on the undersides of the scythes.
Master Sassadzu had complimented Thru on this mat, which he thought had shown signs of a great skill. Praise from Master Sassadzu was rare and was consequently treasured.
Thru worked in a corner where even in Snow Moon the sunlight warmed a patch of floor. He was cut off from view of the door by the curve of the gallery and several large looms but he sensed someone had entered the long gallery at the far end. Thru's right eyebrow rose quizzically. Master Sassadzu taught his intermediate kyo class at this hour. It would not be him, but it was definitely an Assenzi from the quietness of the tread.
A couple of seconds later he was surprised to see Utnapishtim come around the other looms and head in his direction.
"Greetings, young Thru Gillo."
"Greetings, Utnapishtim."
"That is a very vibrant mat you are weaving."
"Thank you, Utnapishtim."
"I like the rakish attitude of your chooks. You have changed the pattern a little from the traditional mode."
"Thank you, Utnapishtim. I like the old pattern very much, but I thought I'd try something new."
Utnapishtim's thin face broke open in a tiny smile.
"Young Thru Gillo, I have a requirement, and I wonder if you would like to fill it. I need two students to help me light the summer lamps in the temples of the Farblow Hills. It will take a few weeks' travel. We will pass through Dronned to get there."
Thru was stunned at this honor, though just for a moment he wondered about going home so soon, if only to visit. Would it reopen old wounds? Then he dismissed the concern.
"I would be proud to be chosen to help you, Utnapishtim."
"Of course there will be some work involved."
Thru merely nodded. What else would anyone expect in Highnoth?
"The temples are very popular destinations for hikers in the summer months. So it's important that they have working lamps. But that means we must carry lamp oil to them. I need some strong young backs and a couple of donkeys to move the oil up into the hills and distribute it."
"I have not seen the Farblow Hills, but I have heard of their beauty. After this long winter I would love such an opportunity."
"We will head south in three days'