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serpentine usurpers.
When Urizen awakes, she thought, it will be in a human, not a lizard,
world. Too bad for Urizen! Kate chuckled softly to herself.
Suddenly, without warning, she was shocked into full awareness by a
sharp pain. Is it beginning?
She waited for the pain to return for a long time, and had almost
decided nothing was happening when the pain came again, harder. When
it passed she sat up, drawing the animalskin covers up to her chin, and
shouted, "Mr. Blake!"
There was no answer.
"Mr. Blake!" she shouted again, at the top of her voice.
Silence.
Wrapping the furs around her naked body, she stumbled to the cabin
door and looked out.
There were the poplar trees and the wild grape vines that marked her
garden, there, in the distance, wound the familiar river. The long grass
was there, and the weeds, and the humming bees, and the occasional
fluttering birds. No painter could imagine a more peaceful sunny
landscape.
But where was William?
She felt the pains coming on again, turned and threw herself on the
bed.
"Mr. Blake!" The pain was bad this time, but the fear was worse. Could
she bring little Ore into the world alone, by herself, without aid? What if,
at some crucial moment, she fainted? "Mr. Blake!"
The pains were fading.
It was cool in the room, but Kate was drenched with sweat. With the
back of her wrist she wiped her damp forehead, brushed the unruly hair
back out of her eyes.
"Mr. Blake!" she screamed.
Then she heard footsteps approaching, a rustling in the high weeds
outside the cabin. With a great sigh of relief she closed her eyes and fell
back, relaxed, on her fur-covered pillow. "
"Thank God you've come, Mr. Blake!"
The footsteps halted in front of the cabin door.
Kate waited for William to say something, make some excuse for not
being there when she needed him.
"Mr. Blake?" she called uncertainly.
Why. did he stand there saying nothing? What was wrong?
She opened her eyes and looked toward the door. A pair of reptilian
eyes was watching her& a huge green scaly head was grinning at her,
framed in the open doorway.
"Grooh!"
The lizard did not reply.
"You are Grooh, aren't you?" she asked, sliding back in her bed until
her shoulders were against the wall.
"Yes. I am Grooh."
"What& what are you doing here?"
"I heard you scream. Is the child coming?" His tone was flat,
emotionless.
Why did he want to know that? Was he here& to kill the child?
"No," she said.
"You are lying."
There was a long tense silence.
Then Grooh said, "Do not fear me. I am yours."
"What?"
"I said I was yours, and I am yours." The lizard hunched over and
thrust his snout inside the cabin. "You are not an evil demon to me, as you
are to my people. You are a helpless little creature who wants to live and
give life, like all other animals. Like me. I have stayed away because the
chief commanded it, but I passed close by every day, keeping out of your
sight, watching that no harm should come to you."
She did not know why, but she believed him instantly. "Grooh, Grooh,
you're right. I was lying. The child is coming. My pains have begun and
Mr. Blake is nowhere to be found. Can you help me?"
Grooh tried to enter the cabin, but quickly gave up. "I can't get through
the door. It's too low and narrow."
Kate felt her contractions beginning again and rolled over with a groan.
The huge reptile hissed in frustration and tried once more, without
success, to thrust himself through the doorway.
"Grooh!" she cried. The room was spinning. The pain was unbearable.
She reached out blindly toward him. "Grooh!" she screamed.
Grooh gripped the sides of the doorway in his powerful front claws,
braced his hind legs against the cabin's stone foundation, and, with a
grunt, pulled. There was a long drawn-out creak as the wood bent, then a
loud, sharp crack as it broke. A large portion of the front of the house
splintered and crumpled as it came loose in his hands.
A moment later he was at her side, leaning over her.
Was it his presence, or simply the natural progress of the cycle?
Whichever it was, the pain was now draining away as she clutched
Grooh's heavy muscular claw in her small sweating hands. "Oh thank you,
Grooh. Thank you," she whispered.
She looked up, past Grooh's shoulder, out through the gaping hole in
the side of the cabin. There was a dot in the sky, growing larger. "It's all
right now, Grooh. Mr. Blake is coming."
It was indeed Mr. Blake. She could see him clearly, clad in his Greek
tunic and sandals, his beard and long hair streaming in the wind. Then
she frowned, puzzled. William was drawing his shortsword. Why was he
doing that?
Then, in a horrified flash, she understood. "No, Mr. Blake!" she
shrieked. "Don't!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]