guilty for running, so here's another
nugget of wisdom. There's no such thing as a need. When someone
says they need something, that just means they want you to give it
to them out of guilt. I hate that. When I want something, I take
it. That's dynamic, right there. Take what you want. Whining till
someone takes pity on you is just a bitch move.
“And . . . that's it. I don't pretend to be a
genius like others around here, so someone shout out a question or
tell me I'm full of shit so I can get out of here.”
Griff perked up as if coming awake. “What
kind of gambling?”
“Kittens versus rats is the headliner. Don't
tell any of the wait staff, but those kittens are rat food. I still
have to round up some critters for the opening acts. Tell you what,
I have another lesson for the group. Gambling is the best. I
really, truly mean that. The randomness, the wins, the losses, the
excitement.” Kerzon glanced to Elza. “And I am dead serious about
this being my thing.”
Greg threw up his hands. “Let's just quit for
the day.”
“Fine by me,” Kerzon said.
Chapter 23 – Kerzon / Iteration 1
He swung his spear with all the torque he
could generate and crashed the haft against the skull of the man
walking before him. Gill collapsed to the ground unconscious.
Kerzon dragged his brother to the edge of the pond and submerged
his head. Gill woke too late to do more than thrash his limbs in
uncoordinated protest. The deed done, Kerzon posed the corpse as if
it had tripped and struck its head, then returned to camp.
It took two days before another of the
hunters discovered Gill. Kerzon wept convincingly at the burial,
dedicated his contribution to the next feast – a moose, no less –
to Gill's memory, regaled everyone with tales of posthumous glory,
and only then proceeded to claim his inheritance: Emma.
Kerzon moved her into his tent six days after
Gill's discovery. Long enough to show respect for the dead but not
long enough for any of the other men to claim her. He resisted the
urge to bed her the first night to heighten his anticipation. The
second night they rutted like animals.
Though not a beauty, Emma exuded passion in
everything she did. In speech, her entire body participated. In the
drudgery of women's work, her expressive eyes danced free. In the
dark of night, she moaned soft sighs of encouragement and surprise
and approval. As she had with Gill, Emma cooed and gasped and
giggled, coaxing him to glorious completion. The swap of mates
appeared to have gone unnoticed by her.
Night after night, he claimed the sex that
had been denied him while Gill lived. For a month or two, the
midnight heat bedazzled him. Kerzon imagined the Creator would be
quite pleased with the sensations he had experienced.
And then he noticed how much more attractive
Meran was than Emma. Meran was woman to his uncle, top man of the
tribe. Her curvy figure flared outward from a tight waist in both
directions, wrapped in unblemished skin and crowned with golden
hair. She drew the eyes of more men every year as if gaining the
beauty other women lost to age.
In an instant, Emma's spell shattered. That
night, her noises reminded him of the deranged hooting made by a
simple-minded child the tribe had abandoned two winters past. It
grated on him until he commanded her silent, whereupon she withdrew
her affections for the night.
The next day, he followed his uncle to the
privy pit. While the older man squatted, Kerzon chose a rock as
large as two fists and approached. His uncle had just begun to
stand when the rock connected with his temple. His uncle collapsed
into the pit. Kerzon hefted a spear and drove it down in vicious
movements until blood and shit coated the body.
Immediately upon his return to camp, he
announced that his uncle had confessed to killing his brother out
of fear of being usurped. When the men warned him that he would
have to face the wrath of his uncle for making such a claim, he
took them to the privy to
nugget of wisdom. There's no such thing as a need. When someone
says they need something, that just means they want you to give it
to them out of guilt. I hate that. When I want something, I take
it. That's dynamic, right there. Take what you want. Whining till
someone takes pity on you is just a bitch move.
“And . . . that's it. I don't pretend to be a
genius like others around here, so someone shout out a question or
tell me I'm full of shit so I can get out of here.”
Griff perked up as if coming awake. “What
kind of gambling?”
“Kittens versus rats is the headliner. Don't
tell any of the wait staff, but those kittens are rat food. I still
have to round up some critters for the opening acts. Tell you what,
I have another lesson for the group. Gambling is the best. I
really, truly mean that. The randomness, the wins, the losses, the
excitement.” Kerzon glanced to Elza. “And I am dead serious about
this being my thing.”
Greg threw up his hands. “Let's just quit for
the day.”
“Fine by me,” Kerzon said.
Chapter 23 – Kerzon / Iteration 1
He swung his spear with all the torque he
could generate and crashed the haft against the skull of the man
walking before him. Gill collapsed to the ground unconscious.
Kerzon dragged his brother to the edge of the pond and submerged
his head. Gill woke too late to do more than thrash his limbs in
uncoordinated protest. The deed done, Kerzon posed the corpse as if
it had tripped and struck its head, then returned to camp.
It took two days before another of the
hunters discovered Gill. Kerzon wept convincingly at the burial,
dedicated his contribution to the next feast – a moose, no less –
to Gill's memory, regaled everyone with tales of posthumous glory,
and only then proceeded to claim his inheritance: Emma.
Kerzon moved her into his tent six days after
Gill's discovery. Long enough to show respect for the dead but not
long enough for any of the other men to claim her. He resisted the
urge to bed her the first night to heighten his anticipation. The
second night they rutted like animals.
Though not a beauty, Emma exuded passion in
everything she did. In speech, her entire body participated. In the
drudgery of women's work, her expressive eyes danced free. In the
dark of night, she moaned soft sighs of encouragement and surprise
and approval. As she had with Gill, Emma cooed and gasped and
giggled, coaxing him to glorious completion. The swap of mates
appeared to have gone unnoticed by her.
Night after night, he claimed the sex that
had been denied him while Gill lived. For a month or two, the
midnight heat bedazzled him. Kerzon imagined the Creator would be
quite pleased with the sensations he had experienced.
And then he noticed how much more attractive
Meran was than Emma. Meran was woman to his uncle, top man of the
tribe. Her curvy figure flared outward from a tight waist in both
directions, wrapped in unblemished skin and crowned with golden
hair. She drew the eyes of more men every year as if gaining the
beauty other women lost to age.
In an instant, Emma's spell shattered. That
night, her noises reminded him of the deranged hooting made by a
simple-minded child the tribe had abandoned two winters past. It
grated on him until he commanded her silent, whereupon she withdrew
her affections for the night.
The next day, he followed his uncle to the
privy pit. While the older man squatted, Kerzon chose a rock as
large as two fists and approached. His uncle had just begun to
stand when the rock connected with his temple. His uncle collapsed
into the pit. Kerzon hefted a spear and drove it down in vicious
movements until blood and shit coated the body.
Immediately upon his return to camp, he
announced that his uncle had confessed to killing his brother out
of fear of being usurped. When the men warned him that he would
have to face the wrath of his uncle for making such a claim, he
took them to the privy to
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