"Moreover, we were once called the Children of the Light, for the good one, Du, sends down the power to create energy from nothing more than his own goodness, and this, too, has been stolen from us by the Devourer teachings that our own Du harms us."
If a few younger pongs looked up at the sun, as the season changed and there was warmth coming from the fiery "Du," that was, at first, the only tangible result of the teachings of the priest. Yet he was tireless, and now and again he would see, as he returned to the outlying settlements, a pong push back his hood and feel the good warmth of Du on his face. He had much ground to cover. There were nine more Farkoian cities, hundreds of thousands of pongs, and many, many weary marches through the growing warmth, the spring rains, and the days of wind and dust. A westward detour occupied weeks of the priest's time. In the mountains he found the free runners, thin and hungry after a long, cold winter, still trying to use their weak, inaccurate bows to feed themselves from the sparse animal life.
"You have seen and heard the Master," he told them sternly. "You have seen him sleek and fat and full of life as he lived off the plenty of the earth, and drank in the sun's goodness. You saw the woman, Jai, follow the Master's lead, and you see me now. Am I starving, as you are? No, because I eat of the earth's plenty. Listen to me, runners, listen. The Master is returning. Eat of the plenty. Strengthen yourself so that you can join his holy, victorious army."
"Tambol," they said, "you have exposed yourself to the sun too often, so that the deadly rays have baked away your reason. Leave us with your madness."
"I cry out truth and only the wilderness hears," Tambol said sadly, setting off toward the southeast.
After Tambol's preaching in the city of Arutan, momentous events had taken place. A winter fever had taken the High Master, the hereditary ruler, Farko. At his funeral four hundred female slaves were sacrificed, a disobedient male pong was ceremonially peeled and left screaming on a pole in front of the temple. Young Devourers found that the story was true, that the flesh of a pong, when peeled, was so soft that a straw, thrown just so, would embed itself. The feast was generous. Four hundred female bodies made much meat, and females were tenderer than males. Moreover, using the females as sacrifice helped in two ways to ease the population pressure created by the pongs, who, it was generally known, spent all their nights in breeding activity.
A Devourer, who had stolen, was sacrificed by the High Priest himself, and choice cuts were delivered to the table of the new ruler, Elnice of Arutan. She ate in company with her strong right arm, Captain Hata. As he gnawed a rib bone, Hata, his mind actually on the body of his ruler, a body that was beyond description for its sweetness, talked idly.
"When they peeled the pong today it was rather amusing."
"I can't stand the stench," Elnice said.
As the priests took the first strip of hide he yelled at them defiantly. He said, 'You kill only my earthly body, for I will join the Master in paradise.'
Then, with the second strip, he yelled, "
" 'The Master has come, and he will return to avenge me.' " Elnice was savoring the soft, sweet flesh from the dead devourer's bud. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "The Master has come?"
"The prattlings of a dying pong."
"What else did he say, as they began to really get down to it?"
"He started screaming in pain, of course, and between screams he begged for a quick death, promising to tell all about the Master, and how he was going to give freedom to all pongs."
"In going over the law and order reports last night," Elnice said, "I noticed that more than twenty pongs have had to be lashed for exposing parts of their bodies to the sun, and that only in the last few days."
"Indeed?" Hata asked, around a mouthful of solid rib muscle.
"It's probably coincidence," the new ruler said. "Peel a few at random and see what they say."
"Shall I save their buds for you, High Master?" She laughed. "It is a rich diet. A few. But when it comes to buds, I prefer to pick and choose and take them internally in another manner. If you have finished your duties, come to me early tonight."
"With the greatest of pleasure, my ruler," Hata said.
BOOK TWO
Chapter One
Duwan struggled through deep snow, his arms laden with choice, tender needles from tall brothers. He had tired of dried foods, and had ventured into the dim sun of the short, cold, winter day to gather greens. He noted, as he neared the cave, that Jai, too, had ventured out, and he was concerned until he saw that there were two sets of her tracks, the second leading back to the cave. He entered, placed the tender green needles on a rock ledge where the food was stored, and then stood in puzzlement watching Jai using freshly gathered boughs to prepare a bed on the opposite side of the fire from the bed they shared.
"Tonight, and for some nights to come, I will sleep here," she said matter-of-factly, as she patted the boughs into place.
"I think we will both be cold," he said, still not understanding.
"It is necessary," she said.
"Perhaps you will find time, since much of the winter is ahead of us, to explain why it is necessary."
She turned to face him and laughed. Her full face, in laughter, was a thing of great beauty to him. He remembered her as he'd first seen her, thin to starvation, hair unhealthy and lank. She looked the proper Drinker female now, full and fat, even on winter fodder, and the thought of not having his arms around her at night was painful to him.
"You really don't know?" she asked.
"I am but a simple male."
She opened her outer garment, pulled up the undersmock. He gasped. Her bud point had bloomed overnight. The fleshy petals had swollen and colored so that that most intimate part of her flared, gleaming in hues of the rainbow.
"Hold," he said, as she started to cover herself. He had never seen a female in full bloom, and the wonder of it awed him. "Come to me." She walked toward him, her eyes downcast. "We have a long journey ahead," she said, "and although I would be honored to bear your young I will not burden you in your journey with a female with a fat stomach and, perhaps before we arrive, a new young."
He knelt, held back her clothing. From her flowering came a perfume that made him dizzy. He felt his own body began to change, felt his heart beat faster, and felt a swelling beginning far inside him.
"Beautiful, so beautiful," he whispered.
"The air is cold, even with the fire," she said, but she was smiling.
"Lie with me, let me see this wonder," he said, and she went with him to the bed, lay down, allowed him to arrange her clothing until she was fully exposed. He stared for a long time, unable to get his fill of the beauty of that flower of femininity.
"Stop," she whispered weakly, "or you will color, too, and then—"
"I think I color already," he said, pulling at his garments. It was true; he was pink, and the petals were expanding, and his bud was exposed, and even as they both watched, and Jai giggled delightedly, the color reddened to a flame and his breath was short and quick.
"I am going to run to the other side of the cave," she said, pulling away,
"and I'd suggest that you go roll in the snow." She smiled wistfully. "Unless you want me to bear your seed, Duwan?"
"It would be my honor," he whispered, and, almost, he was ready to graft with her and take the consequences. However, good sense prevailed. The journey ahead was long and hard. Only he knew just how hard. He would not, under any circumstances, weaken her with the extra weight of a growing seed. He covered her with a sigh and hid himself, but would not let her go. "You will not sleep across the fire. We will sleep here, but you will sleep with your back to me."