The Stone Dogs Read Online Free
grip him below the water and knead. He put his hands around her waist, and she swung to face him, knees astride his waist. "And I knows how to make yaz stop thinkin',f whiles," she whispered.
They nearly heard us , Yolande thought, forcing herself not to shake. She had been glued to the hedge while they spoke; this was great stuff, about spaceships —and then Lele had nearly spoiled things by trying to crawl away too soon. I'm going to switch her , Yolande decided, glaring at the abashed half-Chinese serf. She had never actually beaten Lele, but… Oh. I'd have to tell Ma or Tantie Rahksan why I wanted to switch her . Children had no disciplinary authority over servants, even their own, until well into their teenage years. I'll just yell at her .
She put her eye back to the hole in the hedge. Tantie Rahksan and Uncle Eric were face to face, moving. Just then the serf gave a cry, and her feet came out of the water, locking around the man's lower back. He stood, water cascading off the linked bodies, and Tantie Rahksan had her hands dug into his shoulders and her head right back… I had really better go , Yolande decided. This wasn't at all like the pictures. It's confusing and scary and their faces look so… fierce , she thought, squirming back.
Below the lower terrace, they rested for a moment. Yolande looked up, through the moving leaves. Stars , she thought. That would be something.
From: CLAESTUM PLANTATION DISTRICT OF Tuscany TO: BAIAE SCHOOL DISTRICT OF CAMPANIA
PROVINCE OF ITALY
DOMINATION OF THE DRAKA
SEPTEMBER 1, 1968
It's too crowded in here , Yolande Ingolfsson thought irritably.
The crowding was not physical. The van was an Angers-Kellerman autosteamer from the Trevithick Combine's works in Milan, a big six-wheeler plantation sedan like a slope-fronted box with slab sides. There were five serfs and one young lady of landholding Citizen family in the roomy cabin; the muted sound of the engine was lost in the rush of wind and whine of the tires. None of them had been this way before.
Young Marco the driver was chattering with excitement, with stolid Deng sitting beside him giving an occasional snarl when the Italian's hands swooped off the wheel. The Oriental was a stocky grizzle-haired man of fifty, his face round and ruddy. He had been the House foreman since forever; Father had brought him from China when he and Mother came to set up the plantation, after the War. Saved him from an impaling stake, the rebel's fate, or so the rumor went, but neither of them would talk about it. Bianca and Lele were bouncing about on the benches running along either side of the vehicle, giggling and pointing out the sights to each other.
Not to me , Yolande thought with a slight sadness. Well, she was fourteen, that was getting far too grown-up to talk that way with servants.
The van had the highway mostly to itself on the drive down from Tuscany, past Rome and through the plantations of Campania; Italy was something of a backwater these days, and what industry there was clustered in the north. There was the odd passenger steamer, a few electric runabouts, drags hauling linked flats of produce or goods. Nevertheless the road was just as every other Class II way in the Domination of the Draka, an asphalt surface eight meters broad with a graveled verge and rows of trees on either side; cypress or eucalyptus here, but that varied with the climate.
Fields passed, seen through a flicker of trunks and latticed shadow slanting back from westering sun, big square plots edged with shaggy hedges of multiflora. Fields of trellised vines, purple grapes peering out from the tattered autumnal lushness of their leaves; orchards of silvery gray olives, fruit trees, hard glossy citrus, and sere yellow-brown grain stubble. Fields of alfalfa under whirling sprinklers, circles of spray that filled the air with miniature rainbows and a heavy green smell that cut the hot dust scent. Melons lying like ruins of streaked green-and-white
They nearly heard us , Yolande thought, forcing herself not to shake. She had been glued to the hedge while they spoke; this was great stuff, about spaceships —and then Lele had nearly spoiled things by trying to crawl away too soon. I'm going to switch her , Yolande decided, glaring at the abashed half-Chinese serf. She had never actually beaten Lele, but… Oh. I'd have to tell Ma or Tantie Rahksan why I wanted to switch her . Children had no disciplinary authority over servants, even their own, until well into their teenage years. I'll just yell at her .
She put her eye back to the hole in the hedge. Tantie Rahksan and Uncle Eric were face to face, moving. Just then the serf gave a cry, and her feet came out of the water, locking around the man's lower back. He stood, water cascading off the linked bodies, and Tantie Rahksan had her hands dug into his shoulders and her head right back… I had really better go , Yolande decided. This wasn't at all like the pictures. It's confusing and scary and their faces look so… fierce , she thought, squirming back.
Below the lower terrace, they rested for a moment. Yolande looked up, through the moving leaves. Stars , she thought. That would be something.
From: CLAESTUM PLANTATION DISTRICT OF Tuscany TO: BAIAE SCHOOL DISTRICT OF CAMPANIA
PROVINCE OF ITALY
DOMINATION OF THE DRAKA
SEPTEMBER 1, 1968
It's too crowded in here , Yolande Ingolfsson thought irritably.
The crowding was not physical. The van was an Angers-Kellerman autosteamer from the Trevithick Combine's works in Milan, a big six-wheeler plantation sedan like a slope-fronted box with slab sides. There were five serfs and one young lady of landholding Citizen family in the roomy cabin; the muted sound of the engine was lost in the rush of wind and whine of the tires. None of them had been this way before.
Young Marco the driver was chattering with excitement, with stolid Deng sitting beside him giving an occasional snarl when the Italian's hands swooped off the wheel. The Oriental was a stocky grizzle-haired man of fifty, his face round and ruddy. He had been the House foreman since forever; Father had brought him from China when he and Mother came to set up the plantation, after the War. Saved him from an impaling stake, the rebel's fate, or so the rumor went, but neither of them would talk about it. Bianca and Lele were bouncing about on the benches running along either side of the vehicle, giggling and pointing out the sights to each other.
Not to me , Yolande thought with a slight sadness. Well, she was fourteen, that was getting far too grown-up to talk that way with servants.
The van had the highway mostly to itself on the drive down from Tuscany, past Rome and through the plantations of Campania; Italy was something of a backwater these days, and what industry there was clustered in the north. There was the odd passenger steamer, a few electric runabouts, drags hauling linked flats of produce or goods. Nevertheless the road was just as every other Class II way in the Domination of the Draka, an asphalt surface eight meters broad with a graveled verge and rows of trees on either side; cypress or eucalyptus here, but that varied with the climate.
Fields passed, seen through a flicker of trunks and latticed shadow slanting back from westering sun, big square plots edged with shaggy hedges of multiflora. Fields of trellised vines, purple grapes peering out from the tattered autumnal lushness of their leaves; orchards of silvery gray olives, fruit trees, hard glossy citrus, and sere yellow-brown grain stubble. Fields of alfalfa under whirling sprinklers, circles of spray that filled the air with miniature rainbows and a heavy green smell that cut the hot dust scent. Melons lying like ruins of streaked green-and-white
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