Hyperion 2 — The Sacrifice

Praeludium B

She will be killed tomorrow.

I hear her scream as the tribal guards push her into the hut made just for her.

Her father screams from the ground, foaming at the mouth as the two guards hold him down.

“Shut up you bastard — or we’ll sacrifice you tomorrow too!”

He bites a square palm hirsute with white-blond hairs.

The guard yells, then comes down on his head with his knee; silence…for now.

I’m standing in the marsh, water over my ankles, the smell of cow piss and burning peat stinging in my nose.

The memories of my last dream, or — was it even a life? — are fresh in my head.

The soft fox fur around my neck and head tickles my ears. I feel my warmth caught in the fine animal hairs. I put one foot in front of the other and move forward.