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.These awful gray people that were said to be burning towns and farms and shooting people—she was not sure that they were real.When she was little, her parents had not been able to persuade her not to climb the cliffs, so they had told her about a dog that had gone mad and lived up in those rocks waiting to kill children.It had stalked her nightmares for years and she would rather anything than go up into the dark crevices of those rocks.But now she was ten and knew sensibly that there was no dog, and that it had been all for the good purpose of keeping her from having a bad fall.That was the dog in the rocks, her own curiosity; but she was not sure if the downland monsters were not something similar, so that silly children would not ask unanswerable questions.There had been smoke on the horizon two days ago.All the sentries had reported it, and the children had thronged the big dome rock in the throat of the pass to see it.But then her father had chased them all back into the yard and told them that the strangers would get them if they did not stay where they belonged.So Arle reasoned that it was like the.dog, something for them to be afraid of while the grownups understood what it really was and knew how to deal with it.They would take care of matters, and the crops would go in come fall, and be harvested next spring, and life would go on quite normally.She curled up again in her bed and pulled the sheet up to her chin.It made it feel like bed, and protection.Soon she shut her eyes and drifted back to sleep.Something boomed, shook the very floor and the bottles on the dresser and lit the branches in red relief on the wall.Arle scrambled for the view at the window, too sleepy and too stunned to have cried out at that overwhelming noise.Men were running everywhere.The gate was down with fire beyond and dark shapes against it, and people ran up and down the hall outside her room.Her oldest brother came bursting in with a flashlight, exclaimed that she should get out of the window and seized her by the wrist, not even waiting for her to get her feet under her.He pulled her with him at a run, taking her, she knew, to the cellar, where the children had always been told to go in an emergency.She began to cry as they hit the outside stairs, for she did not want to go down into that dark place and wait.Suddenly light broke about them, awful heat and noise, stone chips and powder showering down upon them.Arle sprawled, hurting her hands and ribs and knees upon the steps, crawling back from the source of that light even before her mind had awakened to the fact that something had exploded.Then she saw her brother's face, odd-tilted on the steps, his eyes with the glazed look of a dead animal's.His hand when she took it was loose.Light flashed.Stone showered down again, choking with dust.What she did then she only remembered later—rumbling off the side of the steps, landing in the soft earth of the flowerbed, running, lost among the dark shapes that hurtled this way and that.She found herself crouching in the rubble at the gate, while dark bodies moved against the light a little beyond her.The yard was like that cellar, a horrible dead-end place where one could be trapped.She broke and ran away from the house, trying to go down the pass a little way to that forbidden path up the cliffs, to hide and wait above until she could come back and find her family.It was dark among the rocks for a moment, the light of the fire cut off by the bending of the road; and then as she rounded the bend toward the narrowing of the cliffs a dark man-shape stood by the dome rock in the very narrowest part of the pass, outlined against the moon and the downslope of the road toward the valley fields.Arle saw him too late, tried to scramble aside into the rocks, but the man seized her, drew her against him with his arm, and silenced her with a hand that covered her mouth and nose and threatened to break her neck as well.He released her when her struggles grew weak, seized the collar of her thin gown, and raised his other hand to hit her, but she whimpered and flinched down as small as she could.Instead he raised her back by both arms and shook her until her head snapped back.His shadowed face stared into hers in the moonlight.She stood still and suffered him to cup her small face between his rough hands, to smooth her tangled hair, to use his thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks."Help us," she said then, thinking this was one of the neighbor men come to aid them."Please come and help us."His hands on her shoulders hurt her.He stood there for a moment, while she trembled on the verge of tears, and then he gripped her arm in one cruel hand and began to walk down the road away from the house, dragging her with him, making her legs keep his long strides.She stumbled on the rocks as they descended from the road to the orchard and turned her ankle in the soft ground among the apple and peach trees; and there were thorns and cutting stubble on the slopes of the irrigation ditch [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]