Blood Trillium by Julian May

Author:Julian May [May, Julian]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Collaborative Novels
ISBN: 9780553561982
Google: U1hWAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0553088513
Goodreads: 616444
Publisher: Spectra
Published: 1992-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

There were now about fifty armed Aliansa warriors gathered about the two mud-splattered little forms staked out in the middle of the compound. The other natives were massed further back, among the emplanted torches. Nikalon and Janeel had lain motionless, as though unconscious, from the time Kadiya and Shiki had first approached the clearing; but now, with the cessation of the barbaric music, they stirred.

The Crown Prince turned his head toward his sister and spoke to her. She managed a tremulous smile. Then the two children lay utterly still, their eyes fixed on the starry sky. Ten-year-old Janeel wore nothing but a soiled shift, while the Prince was clad only in his loincloth.

From out of the largest hut came the Aliansa leader Har-Chissa, closely followed by another native bearing a large package. The High Chief’s inhuman body was magnificently decked in a pearl-studded cloth-of-gold kilt and a stomacher and upstanding collar of gold mesh inset with pearls and precious coral. Ropes of pearls twined about his furry limbs. Every skin-scale of his back, chest, upper arms, and thighs was adorned with a design done in gold or crimson paint. His protuberant yellow eyes were painted round with scarlet, and strapped to his forehead was a gem-encrusted frontlet bearing a great curved horn of pearl set in a golden socket.

Har-Chissa intoned a questioning phrase in the tongue of the Aliansa. The mob of warriors and other Sea Folk chanted an enthusiastic reply. Then the drums began to beat again in a slow, intricate rhythm—deep booming notes and thunderous rolls from the largest drums, many-pitched tunking, harsh taps, and ominous rattling tattoos from the drums of medium size, and strident insectlike sounds from the smallest drums.

Har-Chissa stalked into the middle of the open space. He bent over Princess Janeel, and with a single sweep of one great hand, ripped the flimsy shift from her body. She could not help uttering a shocked cry, but then she was silent, as was Crown Prince Nikalon beside her, who continued to gaze steadily at the sky while his eyes filled with tears.

As the drumming accelerated slightly and intensified in volume, Har-Chissa beckoned to the attendant who had stood some distance back. She was an elderly female, dressed almost as grandly as the Chief, and she knelt now before him and unrolled the package she had carried.

It was full of knives.

The watching throng gave an encouraging shout.

Har-Chissa gestured for them to be still. Then, with the drumming lending drama to his deliberation, he studied the neat rows of shining blades, which were arranged according to size. Finally he drew out a very small pearl-handled scalpel that glittered in the torchlight. Moving with the complex tempo of the drums, he began to brandish the knife above the little Princess, miming the actions that would strip the skin from her living body. With each ritual gesture, the Sea Folk howled approval.

Then the drumming stopped.

Har-Chissa lifted one of Janeel’s slender arms and bent down with the scalpel poised.

Shiki lifted his slingshot and prepared to shoot one of the leaden balls that served the Dorok as missiles.

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