"It gladdens my heart to know the friend of a true warrior like Cyl."It gladdens my heart to know the friend of a true warrior like Cyl. How did you come to know her? Cyl, she was not born here I take it?" Cyl shook her head. "We rescued her from a band of brigand Centaurs, the leader of which was using her as a toy for his gross lusts. After we attacked them, we found her standing over his dead body. A few of our arrows had slowed him down, but his final death had come from the blood he lost after she cut off his privates in revenge." "Truly?" the Braban asked me, stunned. I nodded, ashamed. I felt both pleasure and fear at the memory. Sometimes, the nightmares came back. "Well," Viselle said, "That is truly the kind of friend Cyl should know well, and take care of. You are so young. Myr's age?" "Yes, Miss." Viselle roared with laughter. The sound echoed throughout the city streets and passed over me like a spell of stunning. I'm afraid I pulled away slightly in fear. Her monstrous hand reached out to touch my shoulder, and I shied away further. "I will not hurt you, Beth. I want to know you as Cyl and Myr know you." I eased; her voice and manner were no longer threatening; with one simple sentence all my terror drained from me. Her hand gripped my shoulder gently, and I sensed the great strength held within it, many times that in my own hand. It covered me from my collar down to elbow. Try that, Aimee'. Place your hand on your shoulder and see how much it covers. Imagine that kind of touch over your entire body. I think few people try this experiment and would be surprised if they knew just how big their hands truly are. Perhaps artists, especially those who can get the hands right, know. "Vis! Vis! Vis!" she said. |