The Lion of Eomar by Eric K, Hasler (sight word books .TXT) 📕

...luuucarrr... rumbled the whisper in an even deeper tone out from the stillness to the right. She stood up and turned to the right, and sniffed twice but found nothing.

...eesshaaa... rumbled the deeper tone slightly louder than a whisper. Spinning to look behind, sniffing frantically, with shaking hands, she asked again, “who's there?” There was no answer. She started turning around, and around with just a slither of hope that she might see something, or somebody while thinking to herself 'It's just my imagination. I'm not crazy; it's in my head, that's all!' She dropped back to the ground and thought 'I;ve got to get out of here' as she crawled to the cave wall. 'If it is in my head then maybe I am crazy, but if it's not...' she thought and then whimpered as she continued to crawl. She banged her haed on the wall of the cave, which snapped her back to the reality of the situation. Shaking wildy, she placed her right hand on the wall and started to crawl like a three-legged dog around the walls of the cave in attempt to find the opening.

Lucaresha!

The echo of the deep rumbling voice exploding out of nothing reverberated around the cave without softening, until it just vanished. The wild shaking became uncontrollable as she frantically continued to search for the exit, muttering to herself about not allowing insanity to take her over. The moments trickled by in a silence, which was peppered with her soft high-pitched sporadic moans, until at last she found the exit.

Lucaresha! Lucaresha! Lucaresha! Lucaresha!

She jumped to her feet, turned to face where the voice had come from, and while continuing to shake wildly, she screamed as loud as she could, “What do you want from me!” Her voice echoed deafeningly throughout the cave at an alarmingly high pitch, and then faded into a silence, which was broken by Ahahaha... ha ha... ha ha ha haaa... The roaring laughter created a deafening echo bouncing off the walls. She could feel the strength of the laughter. It felt like a bombardment of fists punching her in the face and stomach, knocking the wind out of her and replacing it with an entity that was foreign to her; fear.

“Stop it!” she screamed, and heaved for air; “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

It stopped. Her hands clenched into fists, and sweat began beading on her forehead, she continued to shake wildly while sucking down as much stale air as she could. Attempting to calm down was proving to be a fruitless exercise, sniffing for an odour did no good either; so she simply asked, “who are you, and what do you want?” Her voice wavered slightly betraying her failed attempt at calmness.

It's in the blood! Came the soft, deep, and controlled reply.

“What is?” she asked a little more calmly than before.

It's in the blood! It's in the blood! It's in the blood! Replied the voice in a deeper and slightly harsher tone than before.

“That didn't answer my question!” she shouted and subconsciously stamped her foot. She could feel a temper coming on, and attempted to swallow it even though she knew it would arise again, eventually.

I can hear it in your voice... and you can smell it in the people.

She stood there mesmerized by the silence that followed those words, almost deafened by it. With thoughts rushing through her head as to what she had just heard, she turned, reached out with her right hand and touched the cave wall. Then getting down on all fours she proceeded towards the hole and started to crawl out of the cave.

Daughter....

She stopped, turned her head back, “what did you say?”

There was no reply. After a moment of terrifying silence, she crawled out of the hole, stood up and turned to her left, placed her hand on the rock face and started to stumble through The Dead Woods towards Eomar.

Reaching the highest point in the sky Dazbog started torturing Eomar with a violent heat, almost scorching the citizens who had gathered in the city centre. The shine from the bronze balls on each of the five pillars proved that god had arrived and was expecting the daily sacrifice. The crowd, however, were not very jubilant. They were mumbling and groaning as one of the poor deliberately bumped into the horrid smelling wealthy and hissed at them when they spat out atrocious words. Her rotten filth stained blus dress was enough for them to step aside, yet, there was another look to her that had them all horrified. Her eyes were not only black with a little touch of deep green brought on by the glowing bronze balls high above, but also her black hair was stiff, straight and scruffy, kind of like the bristles of a broom. Dark rings circled her eyes, which made her skin look even paler. The look on her face was not sour, but almost enlightened and full of both fear and rage. Her lips were purple and looked like a bunch of bruised grapes. She walked stiffy as if every muscle in her body were cramped and sore. Her head was lurched forward and swivelling as if she been on Doogal's wine all night; both her hands and feet had cuts all over them, and were smothered in dried blood and a greyish mud.

Walking through the path created by people hurriedly stepping aside she grinned and hissed as ripples of words spread through the crowd “By the gods!” “Can you believe that disgusting urchin” “these filthy creatures have no right being here.” She was chukling to herself and stalking through the crowd, with her head spinning left and right, her wild-eyed stared accompanying her toothy grin and that snake like hissing was helping to evaporate some of the abused until a rather large woman stepped in front of her. Her bright red hair was weaved into a bun on the top of her head, which did not do much for her looks other than to expose her three chins.

“It's an offence to the gods that you exist,” she said in a high-pitched voice that was also a little raspy.

The wind from her mouth stunk of garlic. “Look at the state of you girl,” she said, “It is despicable that you are even allowed in our city!”

Lucaresha's eyeborws furrowed, her mouth twitched and then words fell out. “Shut your face, and go back to wallowing in your filth you fat sow!” she screeched, and then smiled as the crowd gasped, and the woman's eyes widened. “Do you know who I an?” the fat sow squealed, “I am Seastnan's wife! The head of the...” “That murderous mongel should be hanging from the rope!” interrupted Lucaresha in a dry, flat tone that was full of hatred as she pushed by the over fed woman and moved deeper into the throng.

A foul taste started to rise from her stomach. She sniffed the air, but all she could smell was the putrid stench of perfume the wealthy use to cover their body odour. Then she saw an interesting sight. “Well, well, well,” she said through an amused chuckle as she came face to face with the sack wearing, scraggly haired bearded man. “Are you going to tell us how The Grate One will destroy Eomar today, madman?” He stepped closer to her with a smile and then shuddered when she sniffed twice and said, “You don't smell!” 'What's wrong with him,' she thought as his smile widened. “Then maybe The Great One has blessed me!” he said in a calm voice. His olive coloured eyes were sparkling with some kind of a knowing, and up this close, his hair did not look very scraggly. His face was wise looking, and covered with wrinkles; he looked as if he was well fed, and yet his stomach rumbled proving he was in the same station in life as she.

Lucaresha laughed, “Maybe. But if that is all your god can do, then we're all doomed,” she pushed him aside in the same fashion as the wealthy had done to her, and continued to stalk through to the Southern Pillar.

As she drew closer to the pillar, she became overwhelmed by a most glorious smell. Raising her head, she sniffed twice. The fragrance caused goose bumps to appear all over her body. She closed her eyes and smiled while sniffing as deeply as she could. Her whole body trembled. 'Where is that coming from?' she thought, 'it's like in the warehouse, only... different.' She lowered her head, opened her eyes, and spun her head left, then right while sniffing. 'It's in front of me,' she thought, then started to force her way through the crowd towards the Southern Pillar. The abuse from the wealthy escalated. All around her people were shouting, but she heard nothing. People grabbed hold of her shoulders and shouted in here ears. Before she realised just how much influence the fragrance had over her she started striking back at the crowd. Using her fingernails like claws, she raked at the abusive faces of the crowd. Cries, and shouts for The Watch to help the innocent wealthy were beginning to echo throughout the centre. Lucaresha was still smiling, still hissing. Her eyes were growing wider and wilder, she was focused on one thing; finding the source of that sweet smell. Clawing, slapping, grabbing, being grabbed, dragged, and thrown around until she was finally spewed out of the violent abusive throng. Her fingernauls had chunks of skin embedded in them, her fingertips had little drips of blood falling from them, but she was still smiling, still hissing and she had begun sniffing again. 'The source,' she thought and her smile dropped.

Walking towards him she noticed her stiffness had dwindled 'is this the work of that glorious odour,' she thought, then stopped. 'Not one odour, but four!' she thought as she saw them. The smile returned to her face and spread like a disease.

“Hello Bodwin,” she said, “who are your new friends?”

Bodwin's mouth hung open, 'is this the same girl I grew up with?' he thought. “Are you alright?” he asked with a shocked tone, “what happened in there?”

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” she replied as she stepped closer sniffing. 'Still with that sniffing?' thought Bodwin as he reached out to take hold of her hands. She accepted his hands and stepped in closer and sniffed twice, “who are your friends?” she asked again in the most pleasant tone she could.

Bodwin blushed, “I met them yesterday.” 'What is it about this girl that I find so appealing?' he thought, 'she's not that much fun to be around! More importantly, what was she doing fighting with the filthy rich people. Is she trying to become a sacrifice? And how does she know I'm not alone?' he thought as she said a seductive way, “Well, they smell as gorgeous as you do.” He winced at the smoothness of her voice, which sounded cheaper than Lyra's attempt at sounding sensual. He started to speak, but she released his hands and walked over to Hendi, sniffed twice and asked, “Who might you be,” she sniffed again, her smiled widened as she winked her left eye.

“Lucaresha!” interrupted Bodwin a little louder than he should have, “what by the gods has gotten into you!” She spun around. Raised her right hand, pointed her index finger at him, sniffed twice and said, “There are no gods. You need to wizen up Bodwin!” Her voice was harsh, raspy, and almost bitter. 'Is she jealous?' thought Bodwin.

The goose bumps were beginning to release; the warm euphoric feelings dissipating. The fabulous fragrance was becoming stale; she was starting to become angry. 'What's happening to their smell,' she thought 'why has it become so... rank!'

It's in the blood whispered the voice in her left ear.