Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: caz@owlnet.rice.edu (HWRNMNBSOL) Subject: Kukul [inn] Kukul's Story III: Keen Eyed Message-ID: Date: Sat, 30 Jan 1993 08:17:18 GMT The fire has burned down to embers. The shadows of the day grow longer, beginning to reach searching fingers towards the oncoming night. The light fades in the Dragon's Inn, and Littlefair lights the lamps of the evening. Kukul puts a few logs on the fire and breathes life into the blaze, which swiftly catches on the new fuel and burns brightly. Listener whittles patiently at a balsawood flute that he has been carving in his spare time. The Short Ogre Cook hums loudly and tunelessly from the kitchen, whetting the knives for this night's shift. Littlefair completes the lamp-lighting and returns to his bar, polishing the hardwood panelling of his beloved inn. The entire commons seems to be holding its breath, and awaiting the coming of the sunless hours. But Kukul is not done with his story. The fire re-stocked, he begins again: ****************************************************************************** After ten days at sea in an empty canoe, he knew he was dead. He had fled from brother Xuthu, who was now chief of the Island. His close companions died to allow him escape. In his haste, he boarded a small canoe with no supplies and put to sea, thinking only of his immediate survival. He had come to wish that he had stayed behind, and given his heart willingly to his elder brother. For the first few days, he rowed. The thick leathery skin of his back creaked with the exertion. He set his course by the sun and stars, and struck out in a direction he thought Xuthu would never expect: North. Everybody knew that to the north lay fierce warriors in the whale-belly ships, whose skin had turned white from the extreme cold. Given a choice of deaths, reasoned Kukul, he would rather die in battle against pale-skinned demons than be roasted on a spit. At one point, he rowed through a thick shoal of fish, feeding on insects scudding about on the water's surface. With his oar, Kukul scooped several up into the canoe before they idly drifted away. Raw fish is a good source of liquid as well as food, and Kukul regained much strength from the encounter. Then came the storm. The clouds roared up from the south, as if Xuthu's curse was vengefully following him even to the ends of the earth. He bent his back to the wind and rowed as if a school of barracuda chased him, but to no avail. The clouds overtook him, and with them swept a wall of rain and wind that threatened to overwhelm the tiny vessel. Kukul's great skill at seamanship allowed him to keep the slim outrigger away from the worst of the lashing surf, but eventually a monster wave crashed across the bow, carrying the oar away with it. "Damn you, Aiawaikeke!" screamed Kukul, invoking the true name of the storm spirits as he shook his fists at the heavens. As if in response, a fork of lightning licked down from the sky and struck the water not a hundred paces from Kukul's position. Then a wave of cold water swept over him, and he knew no more for a time. He awoke with the sun beating down full upon his face. He looked up and saw that the seas were now calm; the skies, cloudless. The air was hot and still. He waited. The calm persisted for days. There were no fish, and there was no rain. Kukul was strong, but it was not long before the thirst began to prey on his mind. He was wracked with fevers, and he saw images that he knew could not possibly be there. He even saw Xuthu mocking him, standing only a few paces away on the surface of the rocking surf. Kukul angrily splashed water at him, and he disappeared, leaving Kukul to his doom. Just after noon on the tenth day, Kukul saw the shark. His head resting on the edge of the rocking canoe, Kukul saw the blunt yellow head out of the corner of his puffy eyes. It was small but toothy, lying only a pace or so under the boat. Kukul boggled at it, then drily chuckled. "Heh! Yellow Shark! You are my patron totem, by word of my dead father! You are my guardian spirit, and my guide as well! Well, guide me! For instance, shall I die by drowning, or from thirst?" The shark seemed to roll on one side, balefully staring at him from one pearly eye, but made no other response. Kukul stared at it a moment longer, then made up his mind. By all the water spirits, if he had to die, he would take his totem beast with him. Kukul slipped over the edge of the canoe and into the water. He was almost overwhelmed by the great feeling of coolness and wetness. However, Kukul knew this to be a dangerous sensation, for a thirsting man will die sooner if he spends much time in the water. However, this was not a great concern for the islander. He saw the yellow flash of the shark's tail in the water, and kicked powerfully toward it. He crept up behind the slowly patrolling shark. His goal: seize the tail, draw himself up to the gills, and tear the life from its body through the head or gills. If the blood drew more sharks, so much the better. He reached out for the tail..... The yellow spun about quickly. "Stop that, you!" it indignantly ordered. Kukul was taken aback. Even to his delerious mind, he could never remember any shark talking to him ever before. And he certainly couldn't remember successfully speaking underwater -- not that clearly, anyway. Nevertheless, this was not a time of great rationality. "Look here," replied Kukul, still holding his breath, "I'm going to die soon, and I want to kill you first. I'm the son of a chief, you know, and it's my right. Especially since you're my totem." "Oh, shut up," said the shark, disgustedly. "You're not going to die. Not yet, anyway." This was news to Kukul, who said so. "The Great Shark wishes to see you. Quit playing around, and get back in the canoe. I, your totem, so command you." This sounded eminently reasonable to Kukul. This might be a hallucination, but it sure was interesting. It would be worthwhile to live a little longer if he could see the Great Shark in the bargain. Even an imaginary Great Shark would be acceptable. Kukul kicked for the surface and dragged himself over the edge of the canoe. Only then did he realize how exhausted he was. He fell asleep. He was dimly conscious of motion for a time -- as if his canoe was being pushed along in a series of nudges or tugs. Then it was nighttime. Kukul became fully awake long after the moon had risen. He sat up and peered over the edge. He saw that his canoe was now beached against a small island, the sand glowing whitely in the moonlight. Then he realized that the whiteness wasn't sand, and the island was no island at all. For one thing, islands don't bob. For another, they haven't got eyes the size of coconuts, and teeth from a nightmare. "S O." It spoke without speaking. "Y O U S E E M T O B E I N A B I T O F A F I X." Islanders have no sense of awe or reverence, even to their chief deity and spirit. "Yes, but nothing I can't get out of. Wish I had a harpoon, though. What a catch you'd be! I could have my choice of wives." It was amused. "P I P S Q U E A K. H E R M I T C R A B. I N D A Y S W H E N T H E S U N B U R N E D S M A L L E R I N T H E S K I E S, O N E H U N D R E D W A R R I O R S S O U G H T M E I N A B O A T T H E S I Z E O F A G I A N T S Q U I D. T H E Y F O U N D M E, M U C H T O T H E I R R E G R E T." Kukul affected a tone of mild interest, though he was greatly impressed. "Oh? What happened?" By way of answering, It opened its gaping jaws. Space seemed to turn in upon itself, and Kukul perceived rows upon rows of human beings standing sullenly in the mouth of the Great Beast. This seemed strange to Kukul. "All of your prey, I assume?" "Y E S." "Why don't you just swallow them?" "I' M W A I T I N G F O R A M O U T H F U L." Kukul threw back his head and laughed. For some reason, this pleased It. "I W A N T Y O U T O S E R V E M E." This stopped Kukul in his tracks. "Serve you? How? Why?" "F I R S T W H Y. I W A N T Y O U B E C A U S E Y O U A R E V E R Y M U C H L I K E M E. Y O U A R E F I E R C E, A N D V I C I O U S, A N D G I V E N O S E C O N D T H O U G H T T O T H E W A N T O N T A K I N G O F L I F E." "I suppose that's true." "I N E E D A S E R V A N T T O D O A J O B F O R M E. T H A T S E R V A N T W O U L D B E Y O U." "What's the job?" "I C A N 'T T E L L Y O U." "What?!" "I T 'S N O T T H E K I N D O F J O B T H A T C A N B E E X P L A I N E D. " Kukul, a very bright young man, scratched his head. "I'm confused." "N A T U R A L L Y. L O O K, A L L Y O U H A V E T O D O I S A C T N O R M A L A N D G O O N W I T H L I F E. I N R E T U R N, I G I V E Y O U G R E A T P O W E R S A N D A L L T H A T. O H, A N D I 'D A P P R E C I A T E A B L O O D S A C R I F I C E N O W A N D A G A I N." "That sounds easy enough." "O H, Y E S. Y O U A L S O H A V E T O G O T O T H E C I V I L I Z E D L A N D S." "Huh?" "N E V E R M I N D. H E R E, L E T M E T E A C H Y O U A C H A N T O R T W O T H A T M I G H T C O M E I N H A N D Y......" - * - For Master Trader Errys, the day was starting to look much better. In the morning, the watch had spotted the red sail that meant raiders on the horizon. The heavily laden barque, separated from the rest of the trading convoy by the storm, did not stand a chance of outrunning the pirate sloop. They stood to and readied weapons for boarding, knowing full well that they would likely be on the losing end of a massacre very soon. Imagine Errys' surprise, then, when, at the height of battle, a strange black-skinned native wearing an odd kind of leather armor boarded the pirated at the far side of their ship. He threw his harpoon with deadly accuracy, and every throw somehow seemed to end with the weapon sitting ready in the stranger's hand again. This sudden onslaught from an unexpected quarter broke the morale of the pirates, who surrendered and pleaded for mercy. If they expected any from the black man, they got none. By the end of the day, the peculiar warrior had quite a collection of eyeballs on a thong about his neck. Errys was doubly pleased. Not only was his cargo of precious amber secured, but he had gained a potentially valuable new piece of commodity. The black man seemed intelligent, and was already learning the language quickly from the awed sailors; there could be no doubt that he was strong, and fast, and rather handsome too, if one could look past certain cosmetic alterations. Yes, thought Errys, there might be somebody in Rameshand who might consider the trophy of an exotic island warrior to be money well spent..... -- HWRNMNBSOL