Hothouse - Brian Aldiss [102]
Seeing Gren hesitate, Yattmur said, ‘You know we cannot stay here on Big Slope. We were carried here against our wishes. Now we have the chance to go, we must take it.’
‘If you wish it, it shall be so, though I’m tired of travel.’
The earth trembled again. With unconscious humour, Yattmur said, ‘We must leave the mountain before it leaves us.’ She added, ‘And we must persuade the tummy-bellies to come with us. If they stay here, either the sharp-fur mountainears or starvation will kill them.’
‘Oh, no,’ Gren said. ‘They’ve been trouble enough. Let the wretched creatures remain here. I don’t want them with us.’
‘Since they don’t want to come with you, that question is settled,’ said the sodal with a flick of his tail. ‘Now, let us move, since I must not be kept waiting.’
They had next to no possessions, so close were their lives to nature. To make ready was merely to check their weapons, to stow a little food for carrying and to cast a backward glance at the cave that had sheltered the birth of Laren. Catching sight of a nearby gourd and its contents, Gren asked, ‘What about the morel?’
‘Leave it there to fester,’ Yattmur said.
‘We take the morel with us. My women will carry it,’ said the sodal.
His women were already busy, their tattoo lines merging with their wrinkles as they strained to lift the sodal from his perch and on to the back of his carry man. Between themselves they exchanged only grunts, although one of them was capable of making monosyllabic replies accompanied by gesture when the sodal addressed her, using a tongue Gren did not recognize. He watched fascinated until Sodal Ye was firmly in place, clutched round the middle by the stooped man.
‘How long has that poor wretch been doomed to carry you about?’ he asked.
‘The destiny of his race – it is a proud one – is to serve the catch-carry-kind. He was trained to it early. He neither knows nor wishes to know any other life.’
They began to move, going downhill with the two slave women leading. Yattmur glanced back to see the three tummy-bellies staring mournfully at them from their cave. She raised her hand, beckoning and calling to them. Slowly they stood up and began to jostle forward, almost tripping over one another in their efforts to stay close together.
‘Come on!’ she called encouragingly. ‘You fellows come with us and we’ll look after you.’
‘They’ve been trouble enough to us,’ Gren said. Stooping, he collected a handful of stones and flung them.
One tummy-belly was hit in the groin, one on the shoulder, before they broke and fled back into the cave, crying aloud that nobody loved them.
‘You are too cruel, Gren. We should not leave them at the mercy of the sharp-furs.’
‘I tell you I’ve had enough of those creatures. We are better on our own.’ He patted her shoulder, but she remained unconvinced.
As they moved down Big Slope, the cries of the tummy-bellies died behind them. Nor would their voices ever reach Gren and Yattmur again.
chapter twenty-five
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They descended the ragged flank of Big Slope and the shadows of the valley rose up to meet them. A moment came when they waded in dark up to their ankles; then it rose rapidly, swallowing them, as the sun was hidden by a range of hills ahead.
The pool of darkness in which they now moved, and in which they were to travel for some while, was not total. Though at present no cloud banks overhead reflected the light of the sun, the frequent lightning traced out their path for them.
Where the rivulets of Big Slope gathered into a fair-sized stream, the way became precipitous, for the water had carved a gully for itself, and they were forced to follow