turning her head to look at Mas’ Torbern, Mas’ Enchebern and the others. The same blank stare, not even accusation in her eyes.
“I feel it,” she said–the first words Dinah had heard pass the child’s lips. “Will it hurt, Daddy?”
Mas’ Torbern prodded her between the shoulder blades with a mutt-stick and the girl plunged forward, face down in the vat.
He held her below the slick green surface for the space of several breaths and Dinah imagined the changing bugs filling the child’s nose and mouth, surging deeper into her body. And then he released her. She floated to the surface, limp at first. Then she shuddered. Her arms broke free, a hand found the edge of the vat and she pulled herself upright.
Mas’ Torbern turned away from her, and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. “Right,” he said. “The other one. Let’s get this finished.”
The two big mutts, Tender and Wake, came and took a hold of Taneyes’ arms. Expecting trouble, Dinah supposed.
Instead, Taneyes shook her head and their hands fell away from her.
She stepped forward, her stride slow, measured, precise. She stopped and faced Mas’ Torbern. “I am True,” she said. “You have no right to do this to me. I will remember.”
Mas’ Torbern’s upper lip curled up to one side, and then he stepped towards her and spat in her face.
She flinched, made as if to wipe her face and then stopped herself. Straightening, she stepped forward.
Mas’ Torbern waved away the two mutts and seized Taneyes’ arm himself. Dinah saw whiteness spreading where he gripped her bare flesh, so tightly did he hold her.
By the steps to the dipping vat they stopped and he released her. “Say goodbye to yourself, bitch,” he said.
Just then, Dinah saw movement down by the mangroves. She shifted from foot to foot, spilling the sweetwater she carried. No more movement, but she knew it was all happening now, all likely to go wrong.
Mas’ Torbern pushed Taneyes and she set foot in the changing vat. “I feel it,” she taunted him, repeating the words uttered by the girl who had called him Daddy . “I will remember you.”
Dinah saw a sudden change in Taneyes’ expression, a movement of the eyes, an unspoken Oh . Dinah turned and saw figures down by the mangroves, just as Taneyes had seen.
Taneyes looked at Dinah now, questioning.
And Mas’ Torbern sensed that something was wrong. He glanced over his shoulder at Enchebern and the other masters. At any moment he would see what was happening by the mangroves and the alarm would be raised.
Taneyes’ arm snaked out and caught Mas’ Torbern’s clothes at the waist.
Both hands now, gripping his clothing, tugging, pulling in crude parody of his own clawing hands the night before.
She leaned back and he fell with her, arms flailing, mutt-stick flying off into the swamp.
The other masters shrank back as a great spray of changing brew splashed up out of the vat and then fell back, enfolding the two bodies entwined like lovers in the sickly brew.
Silence.
Long silence.
Then a sudden burst of confused exclamations.
And then the sound of moist partings, of bodies pulling clear of the thick, slimy brew. Two figures emerged, dripping the goo into the dirt. One lashed out, struck the other, and Dinah saw Taneyes sprawling on the ground.
The one who had struck out now stood in a low crouch, legs apart, arms spread.
“Well?” he screeched. “What are you waiting for? Someone get some water and wash me off! ”
The masters huddled, keeping their distance. Then Mas’ Enchebern gestured and Wake hurried up the path to comply.
Dinah looked back towards the mangroves and saw only a dark tongue of jungle, spreading out across the swamp, silent and undisturbed.
~
None of them would go within a few paces of the two when they emerged from the changing vat.
Treebesh, the visiting master from Beshusa, berated the others. “You have that fine whipping post, don’t you?” he said. “Time we used
“I feel it,” she said–the first words Dinah had heard pass the child’s lips. “Will it hurt, Daddy?”
Mas’ Torbern prodded her between the shoulder blades with a mutt-stick and the girl plunged forward, face down in the vat.
He held her below the slick green surface for the space of several breaths and Dinah imagined the changing bugs filling the child’s nose and mouth, surging deeper into her body. And then he released her. She floated to the surface, limp at first. Then she shuddered. Her arms broke free, a hand found the edge of the vat and she pulled herself upright.
Mas’ Torbern turned away from her, and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. “Right,” he said. “The other one. Let’s get this finished.”
The two big mutts, Tender and Wake, came and took a hold of Taneyes’ arms. Expecting trouble, Dinah supposed.
Instead, Taneyes shook her head and their hands fell away from her.
She stepped forward, her stride slow, measured, precise. She stopped and faced Mas’ Torbern. “I am True,” she said. “You have no right to do this to me. I will remember.”
Mas’ Torbern’s upper lip curled up to one side, and then he stepped towards her and spat in her face.
She flinched, made as if to wipe her face and then stopped herself. Straightening, she stepped forward.
Mas’ Torbern waved away the two mutts and seized Taneyes’ arm himself. Dinah saw whiteness spreading where he gripped her bare flesh, so tightly did he hold her.
By the steps to the dipping vat they stopped and he released her. “Say goodbye to yourself, bitch,” he said.
Just then, Dinah saw movement down by the mangroves. She shifted from foot to foot, spilling the sweetwater she carried. No more movement, but she knew it was all happening now, all likely to go wrong.
Mas’ Torbern pushed Taneyes and she set foot in the changing vat. “I feel it,” she taunted him, repeating the words uttered by the girl who had called him Daddy . “I will remember you.”
Dinah saw a sudden change in Taneyes’ expression, a movement of the eyes, an unspoken Oh . Dinah turned and saw figures down by the mangroves, just as Taneyes had seen.
Taneyes looked at Dinah now, questioning.
And Mas’ Torbern sensed that something was wrong. He glanced over his shoulder at Enchebern and the other masters. At any moment he would see what was happening by the mangroves and the alarm would be raised.
Taneyes’ arm snaked out and caught Mas’ Torbern’s clothes at the waist.
Both hands now, gripping his clothing, tugging, pulling in crude parody of his own clawing hands the night before.
She leaned back and he fell with her, arms flailing, mutt-stick flying off into the swamp.
The other masters shrank back as a great spray of changing brew splashed up out of the vat and then fell back, enfolding the two bodies entwined like lovers in the sickly brew.
Silence.
Long silence.
Then a sudden burst of confused exclamations.
And then the sound of moist partings, of bodies pulling clear of the thick, slimy brew. Two figures emerged, dripping the goo into the dirt. One lashed out, struck the other, and Dinah saw Taneyes sprawling on the ground.
The one who had struck out now stood in a low crouch, legs apart, arms spread.
“Well?” he screeched. “What are you waiting for? Someone get some water and wash me off! ”
The masters huddled, keeping their distance. Then Mas’ Enchebern gestured and Wake hurried up the path to comply.
Dinah looked back towards the mangroves and saw only a dark tongue of jungle, spreading out across the swamp, silent and undisturbed.
~
None of them would go within a few paces of the two when they emerged from the changing vat.
Treebesh, the visiting master from Beshusa, berated the others. “You have that fine whipping post, don’t you?” he said. “Time we used
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