Baleful Betrayal (43 page)

Authors: John Corwin

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BOOK: Baleful Betrayal

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I ran straight across the pen. There was only one force mighty enough to take on the cows. I simply had to hope they didn't eat me before the bull reached me. I climbed the fence and leapt into the pigpen.

A large sow squealed and ran from me, a group of piglets trotting in her wake. A large mound of mud shuddered and rose to reveal a monstrous boar. It snorted and pawed the ground. With a loud squeal, it raced toward me on stubby legs. The bull crashed through the fence behind me. When I turned, I saw its eyes flash bright. I had never seen such a thing. I might have stood and stared, but common sense prevailed.

I ran for the boar. Footing was treacherous in the thick mud. My breath came in ragged gasps, my legs wobbled with fright. I felt certain I would die.
Why should I care if I die? Nobody else in the world cares.
The thought nearly made me pause. Perhaps this was the fate designed for me, crushed between a boar and a bull in a muddy pen. The others would remember me if only for the entertaining story.

Weak as I was in mind and body, my survival instinct proved strong. As the two beasts thundered my way, instinct took control of my legs and leapt me out of the way. The bull and the boar crashed hard into each other with an awful bellowing squeal. Something hit me hard on the back of the head. My face burrowed into the muck and I slid forward several feet.

Strange symbols flashed behind my closed eyelids. I remembered seeing some of them during a math lesson. Others looked completely alien. I might have wondered longer at this strange sight, but my mouth and nose were buried in the mud and I suddenly realized I couldn't breathe. I jerked my face up and spat while scraping the mud from my face. My hands were so muddy it took a little while.

I felt warm liquid mingling with the cool mud. When I finally cleared my eyes, I saw thick crimson blood pooling where I knelt. I turned. The bull and boar lay in a huge heap. Blood poured from the bull's mouth. The boar lay on its side, its mouth hanging open, tongue lolling in the mud.

Red blood? I can see color?

The sow squealed and rooted at the boar. Her piglets danced around her feet, each one trying to reach one of her many nipples. Her skin looked quite pink beneath the coarse hairs on her hide. The oak trees looked bright and full of green leaves. It was as if someone had taken a gray landscape and painted the world.

The herd of cows meandered aimlessly within the pigpen while some of the other swine dashed for freedom through the broken fence.

Suidae suinae sus. Swine. Most notable for bacon.

The strange words I'd been hearing in my head suddenly made sense. They were scientific classifications for animals.

Yes, it's a pig. They are very tasty.

We hadn't learned these classifications in school, so how did I know them? I closed my eyes and saw strings of mathematical symbols flowing like a river of nonsense. The schoolwork at the orphanage was rudimentary, nothing so advanced as this.

I heard the mud sucking at someone's feet. Before I could turn to see who it was, I was lifted by my scruff and jerked into the air. Brickle held me in front of him, face red with anger. It was so interesting seeing the color in his face, I nearly forgot I was in trouble.

The Goodleighs stood on the dirt road outside the pigpen. I could tell by the looks on their faces that the blame for this debacle rested squarely on my shoulders.

My first day back was not going well at all.

But at least I can see in color.

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