Kared's Children - Chapter 1

"Mudworm," Benjamin whispered.

The tiny brown creature was writhing in his hand instantly, its drops of water speckling dirt seemingly baked onto his fingers. Thankful that Kefed heard even whispers, Benjamin popped the worm into his mouth and held it between his teeth and cheek as his mouth filled with water.

He swallowed greedily and felt his mouth fill again. The worms usually were good for three or four mouthfuls before they dissolved in their own excretions.

On his hands and knees, Benjamin swallowed again and placed his hands, palm deep, into the puddle. This much water could make him a whole swarm of mudworms or a bush of Latofer.

Latofer. He thought it but didn’t say anything. He swallowed again. The worm dissolved.

"So what have we here?"

Benjamin felt the point of a knife at the side of his throat. A foul-smelling face leaned next to his and laughed; an even worse-smelling breath assailed him with the next words.

"That’s right, my little doggie-" the old dialect again-"don’t you dare move." Hands fumbled at his belt, at the pouch of nougats attached to it. "I’ll just see to your valuables while you drink from the streets." The face laughed again and disappeared. The voice sounded behind him as the robber gave him a kick. "Leave you here in your own excrement, my little doggie!" the voice said, and was gone.

Benjamin looked around. He heard footsteps, but didn’t see anyone. In the shadows, the spaces between the shacks looked empty. He hadn’t seen the thief’s face clearly. His fingers wiggled toward the sounds of the steps. He’d be able to track the thief now by scent.

At the moment, though, the thief didn’t matter. Obviously the nougats were desirable; the elders had been right. He’d be able to make more. But first-he turned back to the puddle and touched it again.

"Mudworm." Benjamin sighed.

. . .

After he’d drunk his fill and eaten a stem of Latofer, Benjamin tried to stand. His legs were cramped and sore, though, and they didn’t want to support him.

"Kefed," he whispered, and tried again. He wobbled and stood. He looked up at the wall, pale in the darkness, then back toward the gate where the guards had been standing. He knew that whatever reason he’d been called from the peace and familiarity of his training to become his tribe’s next Guardian was beyond that wall. He hoped only that Kefed would measure him and find him not wanting.

. . .

Benjamin walked back toward the guards, who still were rough-housing laconically near the gate. He whispered a word and walked past them. They didn’t notice a thing. One belched. The others laughed.

. . .

Though the area immediately outside the wall had been light and the spaces between the houses bright from the lanterns which shone through their windows, the area inside the wall was dark, the buildings close, their stones cloying. The passageways between them were narrow and threatening.

Even to Benjamin’s well-trained eyes, the gloom somehow seemed to thicken once he entered the gate. He glanced up toward the moon to see if a cloud had passed in front of it, but he couldn’t see the moon; the buildings blocked it. He wandered the streets silently and saw no one, except for an unruly type here or there, tucked into a corner, waiting for something, oozing menace. None saw him.