can watch the whupping.”
Aidan was beginning to put the pieces together. Two men named Rabbo and Jonko—feechiefolk, by Aidan’s estimation—were carrying him on a pole between them, the way hunters carry a stag or a boar. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound; they bore his weight as he hung face-upward. His kidnappers had put a heavy bag over his head, probably made from an animal skin, from the smell of it; that explained why it was so dark and why it was so difficult to breathe. He couldn’t cry out because they had gagged him with vines. The fuzzy sensation on his tongue was a leaf from the vine gag.
Jonko, who held the end of the pole near Aidan’s feet, was leading the way. They were slogging through a swamp on their way to a place they called the Meeting Hummock. But what sort of things happened at theMeeting Hummock? Aidan’s stomach tightened as he imagined the possibilities.
Before long the splashing stopped, and Aidan heard instead the tramp of his captors’ feet on dry land. They were on an island—the Meeting Hummock? Rabbo and Jonko were no longer on speaking terms, so Aidan could glean no more from them. But in the near distance he heard a feechie call, “Haaawwwweeee,” and Jonko’s answer, “Haaawwweeee.” They were coming up on at least one feechie, maybe more than that.
As Jonko and Rabbo continued on their way, Aidan heard a buzz of voices in the near distance. The farther they went, the louder and more distinct the voices grew. But just as they drew close enough that Aidan could make out a few words, and even a whole sentence or two, the conversation abruptly broke off. Aidan pictured a crowd of feechiefolk watching in silence as he was carried in like a hunting trophy.
Aidan could feel himself being lowered to the ground. The tote-pole was pulled away, though his wrists and ankles were still bound. A voice at his ear, Rabbo’s, he thought, whispered, “On your feet, young civilizer,” and he felt a hand grab his wrist and pull him up to a standing position.
Someone removed the hood that had hidden Aidan’s face. He stood blinking in the afternoon sun; the glare made his aching head pound even harder. When his eyes focused he could see he was standing at the center of a semicircle of feechiefolk. There were at least a hundred of them. Their pinched, gray faces were contorted in various attitudes of curiosity, hostility, and fear. Some fixedAidan with threatening stares, baring what few teeth they had like mean dogs. The wee-feechies covered their faces with their hands and peeked out at Aidan between their fingers. Most of the tribesmen, though, gaped open-mouthed at the strange creature brought to their Meeting Hummock. Those in the back craned their necks for a better view or tried to push toward the front row. All their lives they had heard about civilizers; even the tiniest wee-feechies knew to fear them. But except for the scouts and the elders, most of them had never actually seen one.
The feechies were small people. The full-grown hefeechies were barely taller than Aidan, though their turtle-shell helmets added a couple of inches to their height. They were all lean and sinewy, even the youngest wee-feechies. They all had the same gray skin as Dobro. Their hair was thick and coarse, of various colors, but they all had roughly the same haircut: short and jagged across the front, longer in the back, and lumpy all over.
Most of the feechies wore reptile skins. The adult hefeechies went bare-chested and wore snakeskin kilts and turtle-shell helmets. She-feechies and youths of both sexes wore tunics fashioned from alligator skins. Weefeechies wore little loincloths made from possum or muskrat hides. All were barefoot.
Many of the feechiefolk wore various other adornments that betokened their hunting skill: bear-claw necklaces, egret-plume headdresses, boar-tusk bracelets. A few wore capes made from wolf hides or bobcat skins. One youth in the front row appeared to be
Aidan was beginning to put the pieces together. Two men named Rabbo and Jonko—feechiefolk, by Aidan’s estimation—were carrying him on a pole between them, the way hunters carry a stag or a boar. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound; they bore his weight as he hung face-upward. His kidnappers had put a heavy bag over his head, probably made from an animal skin, from the smell of it; that explained why it was so dark and why it was so difficult to breathe. He couldn’t cry out because they had gagged him with vines. The fuzzy sensation on his tongue was a leaf from the vine gag.
Jonko, who held the end of the pole near Aidan’s feet, was leading the way. They were slogging through a swamp on their way to a place they called the Meeting Hummock. But what sort of things happened at theMeeting Hummock? Aidan’s stomach tightened as he imagined the possibilities.
Before long the splashing stopped, and Aidan heard instead the tramp of his captors’ feet on dry land. They were on an island—the Meeting Hummock? Rabbo and Jonko were no longer on speaking terms, so Aidan could glean no more from them. But in the near distance he heard a feechie call, “Haaawwwweeee,” and Jonko’s answer, “Haaawwweeee.” They were coming up on at least one feechie, maybe more than that.
As Jonko and Rabbo continued on their way, Aidan heard a buzz of voices in the near distance. The farther they went, the louder and more distinct the voices grew. But just as they drew close enough that Aidan could make out a few words, and even a whole sentence or two, the conversation abruptly broke off. Aidan pictured a crowd of feechiefolk watching in silence as he was carried in like a hunting trophy.
Aidan could feel himself being lowered to the ground. The tote-pole was pulled away, though his wrists and ankles were still bound. A voice at his ear, Rabbo’s, he thought, whispered, “On your feet, young civilizer,” and he felt a hand grab his wrist and pull him up to a standing position.
Someone removed the hood that had hidden Aidan’s face. He stood blinking in the afternoon sun; the glare made his aching head pound even harder. When his eyes focused he could see he was standing at the center of a semicircle of feechiefolk. There were at least a hundred of them. Their pinched, gray faces were contorted in various attitudes of curiosity, hostility, and fear. Some fixedAidan with threatening stares, baring what few teeth they had like mean dogs. The wee-feechies covered their faces with their hands and peeked out at Aidan between their fingers. Most of the tribesmen, though, gaped open-mouthed at the strange creature brought to their Meeting Hummock. Those in the back craned their necks for a better view or tried to push toward the front row. All their lives they had heard about civilizers; even the tiniest wee-feechies knew to fear them. But except for the scouts and the elders, most of them had never actually seen one.
The feechies were small people. The full-grown hefeechies were barely taller than Aidan, though their turtle-shell helmets added a couple of inches to their height. They were all lean and sinewy, even the youngest wee-feechies. They all had the same gray skin as Dobro. Their hair was thick and coarse, of various colors, but they all had roughly the same haircut: short and jagged across the front, longer in the back, and lumpy all over.
Most of the feechies wore reptile skins. The adult hefeechies went bare-chested and wore snakeskin kilts and turtle-shell helmets. She-feechies and youths of both sexes wore tunics fashioned from alligator skins. Weefeechies wore little loincloths made from possum or muskrat hides. All were barefoot.
Many of the feechiefolk wore various other adornments that betokened their hunting skill: bear-claw necklaces, egret-plume headdresses, boar-tusk bracelets. A few wore capes made from wolf hides or bobcat skins. One youth in the front row appeared to be
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