On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [13]
At various points along the rivers, boys clad in short, loose rhias pumped long handles. Kevla narrowed her eyes, puzzled for a moment, then realized that the boys were bringing water from the river inland. Long troughs carried the precious fluid well into the cultivated lands. No wonder the crops did so well, hand-fed water as they were, becoming that assaulting, wonderful green.
As she watched, the sound of voices crying out in alarm jerked her attention back to the waters. One of the flat boats had capsized, and the water frothed violently. Kevla’s heart felt squeezed, and breathing became difficult. Surely, these men knew how to swim, didn’t they? What, then, was the panic about?
She opened her mouth to ask Tahmu when the churning water turned from white to red. Kevla saw, for just an instant, the torso of a man surface, his mouth open and screaming, his arms reaching out of the bloody waters imploringly to his fellows on the shores. Then he was gone.
It seemed as if the dreadful incident was over, and Kevla began to breathe again when there came a quick movement.
Something rose up from the depths. It was gray and shiny, and a crest of sharp spines adorned its monstrous head. Between its teeth it held the corpse of the man Kevla had just seen pleading for aid. The men on the shore rallied, and with many curses flung stones, sticks, anything they could upon the creature.
With a sinuousness that mimicked the river in which it dwelt, the beast submerged, taking its prize with it. This time, when the waters quieted, they remained still. Only the rapidly dissipating crimson tinge of the water and the overturned boat were left to bear testimony to the tragedy.
Now Kevla’s breath returned to her, and she sobbed, just once. She clapped her hands to her mouth immediately, for she had no wish to shame herself in front of the mighty khashim with her weakness. To her surprise, she felt his arm go around her, gentle and steadying.
“The waters give life,” said Tahmu. “They make it possible for me and my Clanspeople to live, and to live well indeed. But the waters are full of dangers as well. I would have warned you of them, but I think, now, there is little need.”
Wordlessly, Kevla shook her head. Her trembling was starting to subside, which was good, and her stomach had decided not to rid itself of the meat pastry she had eaten earlier, which was better. She took a deep, steadying breath. She had seen death before, but that had been beggars stiffening on the streets, not this sudden, violent snuffing out of life.
Think of something else! she thought fiercely, trying not to see in her mind’s eye the gray monster and its human victim.
“Where…but where is the great House?” she asked, her voice quivering only a little.
“Just a few more steps along the path, and you will be able to see it,” said Tahmu. He squeezed Swift with his thighs, and the horse obediently moved forward.
Scarcely had Swift taken twelve paces when another set of miracles came into view. The green fields continued upward, climbing gradually up the side of the hill in a series of levels. Buildings appeared, and courtyards with trees and benches and—Kevla gasped—pools of water that seemed to have a life of their own. Streams of water leaped upward and then splashed down. Almost, it seemed the work of a kuli,