An Offer Accepted
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 13230
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The plump man, who gave his name as Rowel Groove, turned out to be a
priest in the service of the river-god Thames. He ordered his underlings
about with a spritely smile and told Fred where to put the imprisoned
Astra. The priest asked many questions of Fred and Astra, all of which
they answered in truth (Astra now held a glimmer of hope; Fred had no
reason to lie). When the sun was gone and the moon not yet arrived all
was set. A gathering of peasants encircled Astra and Rowel, Fred was
watching intently from a distance. The priest held flowers in one hand
and a torch in the other, there were burning braziers nearby as well. The
sound of the river Ryde murmured below Astra - she was suspended over it,
in fact. She was tied quarter fashion and her joints hurt terribly, but
her hope sustained her.
Finally, with a signal from Rowel, the crowd began to whisper: "Thrope, thrope, beast of the moon; thrope, thrope, screech like a loon; thrope, thrope, dance in the tide, bathe in the waters of the late night Ryde." The tune was monotonous yet mesmerizing. Fred, thoabath that he was, could feel the power within the sound, within the people - an untapped primal power that only needed a focus. Astra felt something too - an urgent desire to flee. The song reminded her of a dirge, the pot-fires seemed to dance wickedly in the early night, and the plants held by the priest exuded an odor that repelled her very being. Then Rowel spoke: "Gheli varoo, dei tempestae! Lupus lunus aht veri no Thamae!" The words were gibberish to Astra but every vowel and consonant seemed to cause her skin to crawl. "I hold in my hands," continued Rowel, "the Spirit Willow and Grey Moss, the Water Bark and Magen Leaf. I call out to you oh god of Ryde, god of Kater, god of all the streams and rivers hereabouts and beyond." The priest was swaying now, his body moving almost unconsciously with the intonations of the crowd. "Oh Thames! Oh river-god and bringer of life and death; oh god of ours and of all those who travel. Thames we beseech you! Thames we implore you! Cast out the curse which has visited our small home - cast out the curse that lives within this child!" Rowel then touched the flowering plants to the torch and waved the smoking bouquet about Astra. "Aiiiigghhh!" screamed Astra. "Yes!" yelled Rowel. "Damn!" whispered Fred. And the people continued their unchanging song. Then Rowel lit the ropes that held the screaming Astra and with each second the flames inched closer to her, ready to burn her flesh as it did the rope. But then the ropes were burned all too well and she fell screaming into the Ryde. Then the moon rose. For what seemed an eternity the still-chanting townsfolk stared into the river, as did the priest with hope in his eyes, and as did Fred bewildered by this river-cult's ritual and the burning he felt within his palm. Then a bubbling began to emerge from the watery depths, a frothing, a swirling and then an explosion as the form of a snarling beast erupted from within the dark river. All was turmoil and terror as the peasants ran, the priest ran, and even the thoabath ran. Many fled with the priest to the temple of Thames - a small edifice by any standards yet built on consecrated ground. Others locked themselves within their homes. Fred climbed to the roof of a higher building so as not to lose sight of the transformed Aqualarian. "All bloody crud!" murmured the priest to no one in particular. "And I thought I was doing so well!"
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4/20/2001 8:33:10 PM
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