Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html with a satisfying thump. The old man stood up grinning. Sova straightened slowly, gingerly uncurling her fingers. "Good! Good! Now we take it to split."Gotthumml, I have to lift half of that? Or else… no way. I'm an angel in dragonfly-wing pants if he can lift it himself . "I take one end?" she volunteered bleakly. He waved the suggestion away. "Nah. Too hard. We dotsis ." The section had landed on its bark-covered side; giving it a hefty push with a sandalled foot he started it rolling along the new-trampled path towards the splitting place. "Shape like a wheel, why naht make it one,seyar. A little heft hyere ahn' tsere over roots ahn' rocks, no problem! We small weak people, we hahve to try harder ahn' be smarter, seya ? Might ahs well both do it, only one of us cahn't saw." So they kicked and shoved and lifted the log along together. Near where the trees thinned, brightening the near-dusk light, the old man started, and straightened up, gazing ahead. "Look attsaht !" They were within sight of the splitting-place; Sova tried to notice what he had. There were only the people working; then she saw one who hadn't been there before, bare-chested so his scars showed, black hair sweat-tendriled, splitting wood like any commoner, except that he was using one hand, apparently effortlessly: Chevenga. "He'samazing ," she said gushingly. "Tsaht's for sure!" said the old man, spitting., "Tseh strutting little cockerrrhel, he could dotsaht at eighteen, he only wants to show tseh world he's better with one hahnd tsahn everyone else with two. One string of good bahttles ahn' I tell you!I'll rub his face in tseh dirt of truth, yes, escuse me,kere Sova." For a moment she missed his meaning; as he began to stride away, she understood. "But, but… ! He's thesemana . . ." "Semanakraseye na chakrachaseye," Azaila rattled off over one bony shoulder. "Exahctly." "But, but… I. You couldn't… I mean, he's… I mean…" She rememberedkhyd-hird lying in the grass of the field when she and Chevenga had sparred, a wooden sword gently tapping the back of her neck; khyd-hird , whom she'd thought the best, bettered. They'd sparred several other times, and Chevenga won most. This old man would get flattened. "Couldn't,pfah ," the old voice snapped, receding. "I'mgoing to." And hedid . He just walked up, waited until thesemanakraseye's axe was stuck in the log, and tapped him on the shoulder; then there was a flurry of motion too fast for her to follow, and both disappeared, downward. Kicking her log onto its flat side she jumped up on it, balancing on tiptoes, to see over the underbrush. Chevenga was flat on the ground, face-down, with Azaila on his back, the old legs pinning the young arms, somehow, and the old veined hands… yes, each gripping a fistful of black curls, indeed grinding that famous face in the dirt, back and forth, Chevenga's thrashing struggles only making it worse. He tried to squirm loose, looking for purchase for his feet, trying to draw his knees under himself; the old man just rode nim like an unbroken horse, laughing, and shouting, "Yield, cockerrrrhel! Yield, Invincible! If you're so shit-hot you cahn one-hahnd ahxe, tsen get an ahxe twice as heavy ahn' cuttwice ahs much wood, dahmmit !" All around the chopping had halted; people stood staring.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Suddenly both were still. "All right, all right, Azaila," the familiar soft voice, muffled, said. "I yield." The old man got to his feet, slapped thesemanakraseye on the head and came back to Sova, leaving him wiping dirt from his cheeks and shaking it out of his hair. Sova waited in horror, sickness starting in her guts, for Chevenga to call the guards, have the old man seized.Maybe they'll execute him right here, Gotthumml, I hope not, I don't want to see it, it shouldn't happen at all . But he just stood up, his reddened face making the scar on his cheek stand out white, grinned sheepishly, and said nothing. She stood staring, blinking, as Azaila came beside her. "Well?" he said, grinning personably again. "Tsis log'shyere , should betsere , what's keeping us? I wonder how it got ahn its end." As if nothing had happened, he reached down to turn the log on its side again; she rushed to help. "Urn… most honorablekras ," she said obsequiously, as they rolled the log. Such manners seemed the better part of valor. "Tsaht's Azaila to you." "Az… aila. Um… how did you do that?" The old man made the brush-off sign. "Easy. It was his time to get thrahshed. Better I do it tsahntsem, seya ?" He gestured with his thumb in the direction of the Arkan camp. "People always preach a principle loudest just before tsey break it, show off most before tsey screw up. I had to stop him." Sova blinked. "His time?" "Some otser day, he would thrahsh me. So I don't do ittsaht day, heh heh heh!"When he laughs , she thought,he really laughs loud, not caring what anyone thinks; even his eyes laugh . "He doesn'tneed it tsen. Today, he thought he could defeat tseh world… Wrong, wrong, wrong. He's young. You know, blows always hit you in the weak spot, you know tsaht? You hahve tocount on it, be certain it will hahppen. Because tsey always come everywhere; you justnotice tseh ones hit you in the weak spot." Cocky, Sova thought.Even Chevenga . But still she half-disbelived what she'd seen. "But he's supposed to be the Invincible and Immortal and all that. I mean, if anyone had a right to be cocky… And you… how?" "You alreadyfelt how," he said, a touch impatiently. "Today, did striving-miracle yourself; just don't know it. Maybe you'll notice when we saw next log… how it got easier because of whaht you were thinking ." She remembered.Because I was thinking it was more than half-done . "But that's not the same as… !" "Oh, yes it is! Exahctly tseh same! You got lots more logs to saw before you understahnd, tsough. You got time for a thousahnd thousahnd more before youmy age. Anotser one waits." "But… how could you tell it was his time to get thrashed?" "Easy! He was splitting wood with one hahnd!"
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Und now I vind dose two—Celestial
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Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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