James McCann - Kith 1

VIP免费
2024-12-18 0 0 319.78KB 40 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
KI
I
ITH
PART
ONE
P
PA
AR
RT
TO
ON
NE
E
K
KT
TH
H
Kith – 1 –
P
P
PR
R
RO
O
OL
L
LO
O
OG
G
GU
U
UE
E
E
Genesis 2:15-17
Torches lined the cobblestone streets, shrouding the town in scarlet dress. Banners,
spun across building tops like a web, proclaimed the Festival of Awakening had begun.
And the people below danced as in joy but cursed with fear with anticipation of who
would be the fly caught in that mesh. Rafgard, sauntering through the busy streets, tried
desperately to keep in tow with the Broadsword Fellows. All his life on the farm he’d
imagined what adventure city life would entail, and here he was, not only living his
fantasy, but doing so even as a fellow among the most revered group of apprentices! He
was the smallest in the foursome, and it was for that reason that he always found himself
engaged in foolishness to impress them. Today was not unlike any other day.
Rafgard had donned his red tunic and black hose. His soft leather boots, though worn
in the soles, appeared as if they were new and the black cape thrown casually over one
shoulder made him feel like a Noble. The light breeze caught his long, sandy hair,
tussling it over to where his cowlick made it stand almost on end. Rafgard slipped off one
glove and brushed the hair from his vision.
“Cador,” Rafgard called to one of the three youths he was following, “what is this
celebration about?”
They laughed at him. Drust, Tor and Cador all spun to stare at their latest recruit,
each one brandishing a glimmer in their eyes. Cador smiled. “Did they not teach you
anything in the country? The Awakening is in celebration of when our city was no longer
besieged by a terrible dragon!”
Drust leaned in close to Rafgard, and the flame from a torch caught over his face.
“But the beast never died. It lay asleep upon its hoard of treasure….”
“And has for so long that a mountain has grown over it!” Tor finished; all three
waiting for Rafgard’s response. But he had stopped listening as a young woman who
walked through the crowd, escorted by several guards, caught his attention. Raven-black
hair tied up with a red ribbon covered her round face with bangs that draped like strands
of silk over her eyes. She held her tiny nose slightly above the bottom of her ear lobe, and
a smile painted with the brightest red Rafgard had ever seen held back porcelain-white
teeth.
“Who be this?” Rafgard whispered, taking a step nearer her.
Cador poked Drust in the side and winked at Tor. Then he said, “That is the Princess
Katrina. It is said that she will marry no Noble, but awaits a man who would love her for
who she is.”
Drust added, “And yet, she makes every man prove his devotion with a test.”
“And what test does she demand?”
Drust laughed. “To bring her an item of dragon treasure. Would you attempt such a
thing?”
Kith – 2 –
Rafgard smiled wide. “That I would. Not an easier test has ever been asked!” After
all, so the youth thought, what harm could come of meeting a beast that only exists in the
nightmares of children?
Kith – 3 –
C
C
CH
H
HA
A
AP
P
PT
T
TE
E
ER
R
R
O
O
ON
N
NE
E
E
“‘TO BE, OR NOT TO BE
IT IS NOT SO MUCH A QUESTION, AS IT IS A
DEMAND.”
Genesis 6:2-4
“Bloody ‘ell!” was all Rafgard could think to say as the dragon’s head opened its
eyes and stared at him. He wondered what trouble he had found himself in this time, the
key words being “this” and “time.”
As the beast leapt from beneath an ocean of wealth it revealed such a massive body
that the youthful student who had woken it felt his heart stop. The dark creature stretched
its serpentine body, showering the cavern in coins and knocking down many of the
stalagmites. Rafgard curled beneath his shield to ward off the golden maelstrom,
wondering if it would hold against the sky that had begun to fall.
He closed his eyes and wondered why, when he had first seen the lizard-like head
sitting atop the bounty, he had thought it only a head. Why hadn’t he considered that
beneath the treasure might lay such a giant beast? Rafgard flinched when it roared, and
opening his eyes he ran for a better vantage point to avoid the deadly snapping tail.
The dragon puffed out a chest the same hue as the golden hoard around him,
breathing deeply of the dank, musty air. It bore its midnight breath down upon the entire
cavern, scorching much of the valuable treasure. Rafgard let his training take over and
lifted his shield to direct the flames away. The shower seemed endless, and as his shield
grew hot to the touch much of the gold about him melted to make it appear that he had
stepped inside a living volcano. But Rafgard knew he hadn’t. After all, he was smart
enough to know better than to venture inside a volcano.
When the dragon at last exhausted its lungs, Rafgard glared at it, which still shook off
centuries of sleep, and pondered how he could have been so daft as to assume this legend
was false.
His smoking shield had burned through his leather gloves, but bracing himself against
the pain he yanked his sword from its scabbard. It felt awkward. He had, after all, only
completed two of his six years at the Academy. The first he had learnt stances, the second
he had trained to use a shield and this year he’d learn swordplay. But even without that
skill Rafgard figured an awkward blade would aid him more than a perfected stance.
The monster reared like a cobra, smashing the ceiling with its spine. A piece twice as
large as any full-grown man broke loose and smashed the dragon over its crown,
incensing it further. Obviously the mountain had formed after the creature had given in to
slumber, its surprise apparent in the roar it let out as it slithered until its head loomed just
before its prey. The young student met the beast man to eye and conceded how much
more pleasurable being crushed by the ceiling would have been than to be this towering
inferno’s dinner.
Membranes opened and closed as it studied him, and a long bone that grew on its
head like the sail on a ship moved both backward and forward. Its nostrils flared with
Kith – 4 –
every laboured breath and, licking two giant eye-teeth that covered its bottom lip from an
overbite, it displayed, though it brought Rafgard no comfort, a tooth that had been
snapped in half. The student slid his sword back inside its scabbard, it was useless in his
hands anyway, and stood beneath sunlight that showered inside through a crack in the
ceiling.
He stared into the demon eyes before him and recalled the pride he had seen in his
father. He wondered how proud he would be when news reached home that his son was
this beast’s dinner. His family had waited so long to raise a child strong enough for the
Academy, and, as Rafgard stared into the giant, black pool that emerald lightly rimmed,
he remembered his Dad’s pupils that day.…
But Rafgard had no time for careless thought. As the dragon cringed its eyebrows to
squint it nearly knocked its prey over with its heavy breath. Its nostrils flared, and
bearing great yellow teeth it swirled around, recklessly smashing into the sides of the
walls. A challenge to the ceiling for it to come crashing down, but it didn’t.
Rafgard felt relieved for the first time since he had woken the “legendary” dragon
that the dome had withstood the assaults. Perhaps he was going to get out of this alive;
with an item of dragon treasure to boot! Provided his assumption was not the mistake of
an ignorant country bumpkin.…
Fire filled the cavern, and again the student shielded himself from the blast. He took
comfort in his Tiger stance, concentrating on it to brace himself from the scorching pain
as his metal cover’s outer shell grew a bright amber, much like that from a fire ... with the
same distinctive, putrid smell from a peat fire.
Then, as the beast lunged, Rafgard dropped his shield and bounded behind a rock. He
barely escaped the razor sharp teeth, and just as he’d expected, or at least hoped, the
overgrown lizard paid no heed to the human figure bounding away. It bit down on the red
hot shield, crushing it in its maw in the same way a man would crush paper with his
hands. Then it roared, and spit the foul tasting metal out.
Rafgard now knew for certain that the beast was blind.
“Cool! Blind? Really?” the question was asked loudly and suddenly, disturbing the
story with which an old man, far into the twentieth century, had become engrossed in
telling. Trent Powers hadn’t meant to interrupt, but he was just so into this tale that he
couldn’t contain his excitement any longer.
He watched his storyteller lean in his creaky rocking chair, and stare into the pit of
the fire he had built as if he stared into the flames of a dragon. Trent had helped build the
fire, and was now glad he had. It added such a mysterious edge to the narrative. The
flames flickered, basking the bungalow with an amber illumination like a cosy bedspread
set over a mattress; a bare mattress. Old man Whittaker lived with only those necessities
he needed; he didn’t even own a television! There were no pictures, no knickknack, few
items of furniture, and only two forks, two knives, and one spoon.
Trent had known him for several weeks but the strange thing was he didn’t “know”
him at all. He knew his dedication to the Church, Sunday was the only time old man
Whittaker came out, and that the town feared him. He had moved to Minnow Creek just
last fall, and hadn’t had any family nor friends visit. Trent had felt sorry for him, and one
morning last month before the congregation met outside for coffee and juice he walked
right up and introduced himself.
Kith – 5 –
As for the old guy’s absence of visitors, Trent had never asked why. He assumed his
friends were either dead or senile and, as for family, he figured it was rude to press a man
for information he didn’t volunteer on his own.
Trent sat on the floor by the fire, as he did nearly every evening, completely taken in
by the imaginative tales. He was the old man’s biggest fan, his only fan, and his only
friend.
“So what happened next?”
The storyteller smiled and stared past the embers glowing beneath the fire.…
Rafgard knew he couldn’t hide behind the rock forever. He scanned the area for
something to use as a shield, as the great beast failed to sniff him out. A huge, unscathed
silver platter, nearly as large as the shields the longbow-men used, sat among a crest of
hard, melted coins. With plan intact he tip-toed to it. He knew, if he wanted, he could
sneak out and forget the whole foolish dare. But now, not only would he have the
Broadsword Fellows to deal with, but also an entire town. He wondered how History
would treat the man who ended the most celebrated festival by unleashing a vengeful
dragon upon the people.
Rafgard again took out his sword, but this time he used it to prop up the silver dish.
He didn’t like the idea of losing his weapon, but he couldn’t think of any other plan.
Hiding beneath the platter he scanned the cavern for an item worthy of taking. There was
a jewel-crested gauntlet close enough by the exit that he could scoop up as he dashed out.
Flame blanketed the cave; its heat causing the saucer to turn so red the metal
screamed. When the beast ran out of breath Rafgard leapt, rolling toward the gauntlet,
listening as the beast roared and closed its maw upon the silver platter. The student
faltered at the exit, wishing he had a deity to thank for his fortune. But he had no god,
and thus owed gratitude to no one for his triumph. And because he could share this with
no Higher Power he wanted one last look. After all, he had pulled off an exchange, not a
daring robbery. A jewel-crested gauntlet for a crude sword made by the Academy. He
turned and took one last look at the beast.
The giant lizard had not spit out the silver platter. It shook its huge head from side to
side, like a dog shaking its muzzle. It slithered, thrashing its tail against the walls, and
four tiny feet that Rafgard had not noticed before clenched as if in agony. Black pupils
collapsed as the surrounding emerald swelled, and tears as amber as the sun at noon fell
down its cheeks. It was the strangest sight Rafgard had ever seen, and he wondered why
it did not roar its discontent, but listening more closely he heard a horrible gurgle. The
monster had bitten the sword as well as the silver platter, and now the blade was stuck
through its jaw and nose.
The ancient beast helplessly choked on its own blood.
When it fell lifeless to the cavern floor the ground rumbled, nearly knocking Rafgard
off his feet. He managed to stay balanced by using a stance taught to him by the
Academy, but even when the world had stopped shaking he still had trouble standing; his
limbs felt like water. Had he killed a dragon?
Rafgard crept cautiously closer to its mouth, and relaxed when he could not feel any
breath. He peered in through its cracked tooth and saw his sword’s hilt, pleased that he
would not have to lose the weapon. Glaring once again into its eyes, he considered how
Kith – 6 –
Leaving behind his recollection, Rafgard reached into the creature’s mouth, cringed
at the hot blood, and placed a foot against the jagged tooth for leverage. He yanked but
the sword did not move.
proud his father would be. Just as on that day when he had first learned the Academy had
chosen his son.
The news had come while they were sitting at the dinner table. He, his four brothers
and two sisters, had all finished one of his mother’s famous meals; the best anyone ever
experienced. And after two years of the Academy’s cuisine, he had come to realise just
how much he appreciated her fare.
Normally after dinner the men returned to their work in the fields, regardless of how
exhausted summer’s dry heat had left them. But on this particular day, for some odd
reason, his father had sat back and placed his hands behind his head as though to relax
awhile. His mother had also taken a moment to rest, and had even stopped his sisters
from doing their chores.
At first Rafgard had thought this was wonderful. A break from his chores meant time
for leisure. He could go fishing, and lie back in the few remaining hours of sunlight. It
had been such a long time that he wondered if he’d have any bait ... then he’d realised his
parents weren’t relaxing, they were staring. They were staring at him.
His father had leaned over the creaky wooden table, and started to speak. But it
wasn’t the words his son had found intriguing but the pride in his eyes. Eyes that
retracted from a strong ray of sun spilling into their home. A memory that, when he’d
seen the dragon’s pupils unmoved by the sun, had saved his life.
He hadn’t even heard the Broadsword Fellows rush into the cave.
“For sooth! He killed the beast!” one boy yelled.
“You only had to steal an item of treasure. What’d you go and wake it fer?”
Rafgard craned his head to see Cador, Drust, and Tor all staring at him. He had his
hand on his sword inside the dragon’s mouth, and because blood covered him it appeared
that he had killed the mighty beast. He started to say differently, but stopped. How better
to win a Princess’ heart than to slay the mightiest beast that ever lived! And who could
outdo someone who’d killed a dragon? So long as no one could prove differently.…
“I decided this beast was too dangerous, and rather than steal an item of treasure I
have claimed it all as my own.”
“You’re one mad man, Rafgard,” Drust said, “but I wonder how brave you really
are.”
Rafgard pulled out his sword and looked at each Broadsword Fellow suspiciously.
Silence fell over the cavern, over each of the boys.…
“Hey, Mister Whittaker. A pregnant pause is cool, but you’ve been silent for quite
some time.” Trent snapped his fingers, but the old man was lost again, caught in some
weird trance as he stared at the flames of the flickering fire. He blinked and smiled.
“Youthful Trent. Perhaps this would be a good place to stop. We can continue
tomorrow, should you wish.”
“Yeah, okay ... I’ll be by ... aw, naw, can’t. I work tomorrow. How ‘bout Saturday?”
“Saturday? You spend too much time on Rafgard’s life and not enough on your own.”
“You talkin’ from experience?”
Whittaker’s vision fell to the floor. His jaw opened, but only a sigh came out.
Kith – 7 –
Trent said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s all right. We will continue the story … Saturday.”
“Okay, what time?”
As usual, the old man’s eyes grew glassy as he looked into the fire. “After dusk,
Trent. Anytime after dusk.”
摘要:

KIIITHPARTONEPPAARRTTOONNEEKKTTHHKith–1–PPPRRROOOLLLOOOGGGUUUEEEGenesis2:15-17Torcheslinedthecobblestonestreets,shroudingthetowninscarletdress.Banners,spunacrossbuildingtopslikeaweb,proclaimedtheFestivalofAwakeninghadbegun.Andthepeoplebelowdancedasinjoybutcursedwithfearwithanticipationofwhowouldbeth...

展开>> 收起<<
James McCann - Kith 1.pdf

共40页,预览8页

还剩页未读, 继续阅读

声明:本站为文档C2C交易模式,即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载,本站只是中间服务平台,本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间,仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理,对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私,请立即通知玖贝云文库,我们立即给予删除!
分类:外语学习 价格:5.9玖币 属性:40 页 大小:319.78KB 格式:PDF 时间:2024-12-18

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务
/ 40
客服
关注