Planet Urth: The Savage Lands (Book 2) by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci Page A
Authors: Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci
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well, well, wh at do we have here,” the old man smacks his lips together and says. His eyes rake up and down my body in a way that makes my temper flare wildly. Heat rips from my insides and rockets to my extremities. I feel as if I am on fire. I am trembling. My hand automatically flies to my shoulder, expecting to touch the hilt of my sword. Finding that my sheath is empty, my sword absent, fuels the fire further with panic.
“All right, dad, enough,” Tal says as if he is speaking to a naughty child. His tone is mildly annoyed, as is his expression, when he looks at whom he addressed as ‘dad’, the same man who leered at me as if I were a side of roasted boart meat and he was a starved man. Tal’s eyes move from his father to me, and he says, “Avery, please excuse my father. He hasn’t seen a pretty girl in a long time. He seems to have forgotten how to behave,” he finishes with a look of warning to the old man.
I do not respond verbally. I simply nod with a harsh look on my face, one that indicates that I do not excuse his father’s behavior.
Ross and Tal banter amicably with the men at the table for a short time. While they do, I look at June and Riley. They seem completely at ease in their new environment, a fact that worries me beyond measure. My eyes settle on Oliver next. He is looking every which way as he examines the interior of the dining hall. He does not share my concern, and he does not seem bothered by the old man’s comment or demeanor. But when my gaze travels to Will, I see that worry shrouds his features. His eyes lock on mine and his gaze becomes intense, as if he is trying to convey a silent message to me.
I do not know what he is trying to communicate. I wish I did. I concentrate on his face. But his attention snaps in another direction when more people step into the room. Three women, who are stooped, old and worn out looking, shuffle in. Their clothes are tattered and stained and in far worse condition than the men’s. They enter hesitantly, taking jerky, unsure strides. I watch them and find it odd that none among them makes eye contact or so much as acknowledges anyone in the room as they shuffle along.
Though they keep their heads down for much of the time while they heft trays laden with food, occasional glances steal our way, and I swear that shock registers on the women’s faces but they are afraid to say as much. Children trail after them. I count six in all. The children look as if they range in age from two to six. Another old woman lumbers inside. She is carrying an infant in each arm. I wonder who the children belong to. The appearances of the women suggest they are of advanced age and far past their childbearing years. The entire situation seems off.
It becomes even stranger when Ross calls out to the women.
“Ladies!” his voice booms authoritatively. All of the women freeze, and the children following nearly slam into their backsides as they clumsily try to make a sudden stop. The women’s apprehension is obvious. It radiates from them like heat rising from the earth on a hot day. Their eyes remain glued to the ground while Ross continues. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet our new guests.”
His words are harmless enough , but something in his tone shrieks through me like metal scraping metal. They carry an unspoken warning, a threat of violence that quivers in the air.
“This is Will, Oliver, Riley, June, and Avery,” Ross says, pointing to each of us as he says our names.
The women glance up. Their shoulders hook forward further. They barely look at Will, Oliver, Riley, June and I. They mumble nervous hellos then quickly cast their eyes back to the ground.
Warning screams through me. I cannot pinpoint what is happening, what the reason is for the women’s timid behavior. All I know is that something is not right. I decide to ask the first question
“All right, dad, enough,” Tal says as if he is speaking to a naughty child. His tone is mildly annoyed, as is his expression, when he looks at whom he addressed as ‘dad’, the same man who leered at me as if I were a side of roasted boart meat and he was a starved man. Tal’s eyes move from his father to me, and he says, “Avery, please excuse my father. He hasn’t seen a pretty girl in a long time. He seems to have forgotten how to behave,” he finishes with a look of warning to the old man.
I do not respond verbally. I simply nod with a harsh look on my face, one that indicates that I do not excuse his father’s behavior.
Ross and Tal banter amicably with the men at the table for a short time. While they do, I look at June and Riley. They seem completely at ease in their new environment, a fact that worries me beyond measure. My eyes settle on Oliver next. He is looking every which way as he examines the interior of the dining hall. He does not share my concern, and he does not seem bothered by the old man’s comment or demeanor. But when my gaze travels to Will, I see that worry shrouds his features. His eyes lock on mine and his gaze becomes intense, as if he is trying to convey a silent message to me.
I do not know what he is trying to communicate. I wish I did. I concentrate on his face. But his attention snaps in another direction when more people step into the room. Three women, who are stooped, old and worn out looking, shuffle in. Their clothes are tattered and stained and in far worse condition than the men’s. They enter hesitantly, taking jerky, unsure strides. I watch them and find it odd that none among them makes eye contact or so much as acknowledges anyone in the room as they shuffle along.
Though they keep their heads down for much of the time while they heft trays laden with food, occasional glances steal our way, and I swear that shock registers on the women’s faces but they are afraid to say as much. Children trail after them. I count six in all. The children look as if they range in age from two to six. Another old woman lumbers inside. She is carrying an infant in each arm. I wonder who the children belong to. The appearances of the women suggest they are of advanced age and far past their childbearing years. The entire situation seems off.
It becomes even stranger when Ross calls out to the women.
“Ladies!” his voice booms authoritatively. All of the women freeze, and the children following nearly slam into their backsides as they clumsily try to make a sudden stop. The women’s apprehension is obvious. It radiates from them like heat rising from the earth on a hot day. Their eyes remain glued to the ground while Ross continues. “Ladies, I’d like you to meet our new guests.”
His words are harmless enough , but something in his tone shrieks through me like metal scraping metal. They carry an unspoken warning, a threat of violence that quivers in the air.
“This is Will, Oliver, Riley, June, and Avery,” Ross says, pointing to each of us as he says our names.
The women glance up. Their shoulders hook forward further. They barely look at Will, Oliver, Riley, June and I. They mumble nervous hellos then quickly cast their eyes back to the ground.
Warning screams through me. I cannot pinpoint what is happening, what the reason is for the women’s timid behavior. All I know is that something is not right. I decide to ask the first question
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