Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 340
in this misapprehension, but some leered at me despite. I
endeavored to be dumb so they should not hear my voice, and
also so that, if they took me to be foreign and unlearned of
their tongue, they might speak more freely among themselves.
In the event I doubt they would have thought of caution.
They argued happily over their prizes and discussed how they
should hide the best part from the priests who apparently ruled
over them. My strategy set, I could not inquire further about
these priests, but my curiosity was aroused. These people were
apparently indulging in the sort of idolatry outlawed in lands
such as my own, albeit it thrives under the ban. In short, they
worshipped the desals.
What they knew of the desals in such a backwards spot I
could not guess, although I was soon to learn and to wonder at
my own ignorance. They took me to a slapshod village where
they pulled my hair a great deal and showed me about, the
more injudicious boasting of the great treasures in the wreck so
that most of the population of the town immediately ran to
claim their share. I was then taken to a finer house where their
priests lived.
The priests emerged--muddy tattered men with gaunt
faces. I was paraded again before the six of them and they
discussed my fate, I meanwhile striving to learn as much as
possible by looking about myself and listening. I spied in the
darkened door of their house a woman, much cleaner, haughty
of appearance and finely dressed in beads and what seemed
jewelry. She was in turn appraising me. I could not fathom
what was in her eyes, but her gaze was piercing.
It was decided to imprison me until my origin and
possible use could be learned. I was steered away to a
tumbled-down shack at the edge of the village. This had but
one entrance and was built into a hillside. Thrown into the