Wolves of the Calla Read Online Free PDF Page B

rumble of agreement ran through the crowd. Another smallholder, Garrett Strong, rose to his feet. His pug-dog’s face was truculent. His thumbs were hung in his belt. “Better we all kill ourselves,” he said. “Babbies and grown-ups alike.”
    The Manni didn’t look outraged at this. Nor did any of the other blue-cloaks around him. “It’s an option,” the old man said. “We would speak of it if others would.” He sat down.
    “Not me,” Garrett Strong said. “It’d be like cuttin off your damn head to save shaving, hear me, I beg.”
    There was laughter and a few cries of Hear you very well . Garrett sat back down, looking a little less tense, and put his head together with Vaughn Eisenhart.One of the other ranchers, Diego Adams, was listening in, his black eyes intent.
    Another smallholder rose—Bucky Javier. He had bright little blue eyes in a small head that seemed to slope back from his goateed chin. “What if we left for awhile?” he asked. “What if we took our children and went back west? All the way to the west branch of the Big River, mayhap?”
    There was a moment of considering silence at this bold idea. The west branch of the Whye was almost all the way back to Mid-World . . . where, according to Andy, a great palace of green glass had lately appeared and even more lately disappeared again. Tian was about to respond himself when Eben Took, the storekeeper, did it for him. Tian was relieved. He hoped to be silent as long as possible. When they were talked out, he’d tell them what was left.
    “Are ye mad?” Eben asked. “Wolves’d come in, see us gone, and burn all to the ground—farms and ranches, crops and stores, root and branch. What would we come back to?”
    “And what if they came after us ?” Jorge Estrada chimed in. “Do’ee think we’d be hard to follow, for such as the Wolves? They’d burn us out as Took says, ride our backtrail, and take the kiddies anyway!”
    Louder agreement. The stomp of shor’boots on the plain pine floorboards. And a few cries of Hear him, hear him!
    “Besides,” Neil Faraday said, standing and holding his vast and filthy sombrero in front of him, “they never steal all our children.” He spoke in a frightened let’s-be-reasonable tone that set Tian’s teeth on edge. It was this counsel he feared above all others. Its deadly-false call to reason.
    One of the Manni, this one younger and beardless, uttered a sharp and contemptuous laugh. “Ah, one saved out of every two! And that make it all right, does it? God bless thee!” He might have said more, but Henchick clamped a gnarled hand on the young man’s arm. The young one said no more, but he didn’t lower his head submissively, either. His eyes were hot, his lips a thin white line.
    “I don’t mean it’s right,” Neil said. He had begun to spin his sombrero in a way that made Tian feel a little dizzy. “But we have to face the realities, don’t we? Aye. And they don’t take em all. Why my daughter, Georgina, she’s just as apt and canny—”
    “Yar, and yer son George is a great empty-headed galoot,” Ben Slightman said. Slightman was Eisenhart’s foreman, and he did not suffer fools lightly. He took off his spectacles, wiped them with a bandanna, and set them back on his face. “I seen him settin on the steps in front of Tooky’s when I rode downstreet. Seen him very well. Him and some others equally empty-brained.”
    “But—”
    “I know,” Slightman said. “It’s a hard decision. Some empty-brained’s maybe better than all dead.” He paused. “Or all taken instead of just half.”
    Cries of Hear him and Say thankee as Ben Slightman sat down.
    “They always leave us enough to go on with, don’t they?” asked a smallhold farmer whose place was just west of Tian’s, near the edge of the Calla. His name was Louis Haycox, and he spoke in a musing, bitter tone of voice. Below his mustache, his lips curved in a smile that didn’t havemuch humor in it. “We won’t