Imajica Book 1 - The Fifth Dominion by Clive Barker

Author:Clive Barker [Barker, Clive]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B000OF3HH4
Publisher: HarperTorch
Published: 1995-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

prospect of relative warmth and fresh food was, they were wasting yet more time. Days when all

manner of horrors could be unfolding: a hundred villages like Beatrix destroyed, and countless lives

lost.

“Remember what I said when we left Beatrix?” Gentle said.

“No, to be honest, I don't.”

“I said we wouldn't die, and I meant it. We'll find a way through.”

“I'm not sure I like this messianic conviction,” Pie said. “People with the best intentions die, Gentle.

Come to think of it, they're often the first to go.”

“What are you saying? That you won't come with me?”

“I said I'd go wherever you go, and I will. But good intentions won't impress the cold.”

“How much money have we got?”

“Not much.”

“Enough to buy some goatskins off these men? And maybe some meat?”

A complex exchange ensued in three languages—with Pie translating Gentle's words into the

language Kuthuss understood and Kuthuss in turn translating for his fellow herders. A deal was

rapidly struck; the herders seemed much persuaded by the prospect of hard cash. Rather than give

over their own coats, however, two of them got about the business of slaughtering and skinning

four of the animals. The meat, they cooked and shared among the group. It was fatty and

underdone, but neither Gentle nor Pie declined, and it was washed down .with a beverage they

brewed from boiled snow, dried leaves, and a dash of liquor which Pie understood Kuthuss to have

called the piss of the goat. They tasted it in spite of this. It was potent, and after a shot of it—

downed like vodka—Gentle remarked that if this made him a piss-drinker, so be it.

The neirt day, having been supplied with skins, meat, and the makings of several pots of the

herders' beverage, plus a pan and two glasses, they made their inarticulate farewells and parted

company. The weather closed in soon after, and once again they were lost in a white wilderness.

But their spirits had been buoyed up by the meeting, and they made steady progress for the next

two and a half days, until, as twilight approached on the third, the animal Gentle was riding started

to show signs of exhaustion, its head drooping, its hooves barely able to clear the snow they were

trudging through.

“I think we'd better rest him,” Gentle said.

They found a niche between boulders so large they were almost hills in themselves, and lit a fire to

brew up some of the herders' liquor. It, more than the meat, was what had sustained them through

the most demanding portions of the journey so far, but try as they might to use it sparingly, they

had almost consumed their modest supply. As they drank they talked about what lay ahead.

Kuthuss' predictions were proving correct. The weather was worsening all the time, and the

chances of encountering another living soul up here if they were to get into difficulty were surely

zero. Pie took a moment to remind Gentle of his conviction that they weren't going to die; come

blizzard, come hurricane, come the echo of Hapexamendios Himself, down from the mountain.

“And meant what I said,” Gentle replied. “But I can still fret about it, can't I?” He put his hands

closer to the fire.

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