Already anticipating the power which would ultimately be his, Emmet
Telquist began to formulate plans. He would not make the mistake of
the unfortunate Saracen sorcerer, Mal Lazal. Although he did not quite
dare to take the necessary steps to secure a human sacrifice, "a childe
or chaste maid", a sheep should be relatively easy to obtain. He could
steal one at night from any of the several village flocks. He knew all
the woods and lanes and would be safely away with his prize long before
the loss was discovered.
The night before the advent of the full moon, he slipped into a nearby
pasture where sheep were grazed and made away with a fine fat ewe,
shoving and dragging it over a stone wall and then leading it off along
circuitous back roads and grass-grown lanes.
The next day he paid a stealthy visit to the environs of the forbidden
swamp, exploring the rank underbrush until he discovered the start of
the faint trail down which he had stolen years before. Although it was
partially obliterated by a thick growth of sedges, vines and lush swamp
grass, there were indications that deer used it occasionally. Probably
patience would be required to force a way through, but at least the
path should not be impassable.
Carefully noting its location, he returned home and completed his
preparations for the evening.
Shortly before eleven o'clock he crept into the shed where he had
tethered the ewe and led it forth into the moonlight.
The countryside was steeped in a bewitching silver light. He
experienced no difficulties in reaching the swamp and after some little
searching located the narrow trail.
But as he plunged into the shoulder-high grass, the tether tightened
in his hand. The ewe strained against the rope, its eyes suddenly wild
with fright.
Cursing, he scrambled around and kicked it brutally. It bolted forward
a few yards and stopped. Grimly determined, he tightened the tether
until it cut through the ewe's wool into its hide.
He made progress by the foot and by the inch. The ewe had to be dragged
and shoved at regular intervals. And as he penetrated toward the
heart of the swamp, the increasing height and thickness of the lush
undergrowth made passage more difficult.
Moonlight filtered down eerily among the trees and on all sides
treacherous pools gleamed silver-black in the shadowy darkness.
Occasionally hidden watchers stared at him out of the depths and
quite often enormous toads hopped into the path and regarded him with
their amber eyes. They seemed to be devoid of fear, almost as if they
considered the swamp their special domain and deemed him incapable of
harming them. He began to imagine there was something vaguely malignant
about them. He had never seen them so large before, nor in such
numbers. But probably that was merely because they were left unmolested
in the swamp to breed and develop without encountering the artificial
obstacles which would inevitably prevail in any less shunned area.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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