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Venus, v. 1, issue 1, June 1944
Page 19
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-19- trees. For a moment the snake on the golden diadem about his head shone like fire in the sun. Then the shadows dropped over him, hid him from Hedi, and the ship, from the world of men. THE WARM, rich breath of the forest surged through him, sent his foot striding faster and faster over the yielding earth. Dim sunbeams spilled down through the heavy green roof and somewhere, far ahead, he heard a wild fluting. Several times he stepped to listen. Each time he plunged on again more furiously, aware that the sound was not in his ears but in his brain. Louder and louder it grew, until every nerve and muscle quivered with it, and faster and faster ran Atla, until his breath groaned in his throat, and his body gleamed with sweat. For a sultry green eternity he ran. And then the piping rose to a crescendo that shook all the sane knowledge from his heart, so that he cried aloud..... Silence! a waiting, pregnant quiet. Atla stopped. Ahead the trees opened to a grassy clearing, drenched with filtered, greenish sunlight. A broad stream ran between rushy banks, and standing waist-deep in the water... A woman! Even in his strange chaotic state. Atla remembered the Sacred Writings, knew that Hedi was the first woman to walk this land. Yet there she stood, naked, sentinent ivory. laving her rounded arms and strong shoulders and her high little breasts. Atla felt something within him that Hedi's pale lovliness has never waked. A song, this woman was, a wild, pagan song fluted in a godless forest; a thing of sweeping ivory curves and black hair like a storm cloud down her back . She turned her face to him and smiled, and her eyes were green and brown, like the forest. Atla knew, then, that she had been the fascination and the far off music, the warm wind that called him on. He stepped closer, unsteadily his mind in a crazy turmoil of emotion, and she laughed, a high, wild shrilling that struck through him like a silver sword. Shining with water drops on her skin and her midnight hair, she came toward him through the stream with a strangely undulant galt, and the water rippled and shoaled as it never could with a human form. Black. glistening curves broke the surface, and there was a ring of hoofs on rock. Atla screamed and shrank away, sick with a cold, sudden fear. Yet there was a wild sweet piping in the air again, close now and indefinitely soft. His nerves quivered with the smell of danger; there was a sensation in his body as of light, strong bonds tightening and trapping him. As from the other side of the universe, he heard a voice, Hedi's voice, calling his name. The piping drowned it out, and now there was another voice, a throaty sibilance like a summer wind. "I am Beudag the Contauress." "Demon's work!" whispered Atla hoarsely and sought to tear his eyes away from that ivory splendor that merged at the waist into the body of the beast; a beautiful, vital, satin-skinned beast, with a black banner of a tail that matched the sable cloud on the woman's head. A silken mesh of wizardry mazed his brain, caught his gaze to the wonder of green brown eyes and little pointed ears with silky black tufts at their tips. Again his foot bore him faltering forward. Boudag laughed, and the eerie sound drained all strength from him. The world fled away on a midnight tide, and Atla pitched heavily froward, the wild mirth of the beast-thing ringing in his ears. IT WAS night, and fires flared in the clearing, so that the stream was a running flame.
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-19- trees. For a moment the snake on the golden diadem about his head shone like fire in the sun. Then the shadows dropped over him, hid him from Hedi, and the ship, from the world of men. THE WARM, rich breath of the forest surged through him, sent his foot striding faster and faster over the yielding earth. Dim sunbeams spilled down through the heavy green roof and somewhere, far ahead, he heard a wild fluting. Several times he stepped to listen. Each time he plunged on again more furiously, aware that the sound was not in his ears but in his brain. Louder and louder it grew, until every nerve and muscle quivered with it, and faster and faster ran Atla, until his breath groaned in his throat, and his body gleamed with sweat. For a sultry green eternity he ran. And then the piping rose to a crescendo that shook all the sane knowledge from his heart, so that he cried aloud..... Silence! a waiting, pregnant quiet. Atla stopped. Ahead the trees opened to a grassy clearing, drenched with filtered, greenish sunlight. A broad stream ran between rushy banks, and standing waist-deep in the water... A woman! Even in his strange chaotic state. Atla remembered the Sacred Writings, knew that Hedi was the first woman to walk this land. Yet there she stood, naked, sentinent ivory. laving her rounded arms and strong shoulders and her high little breasts. Atla felt something within him that Hedi's pale lovliness has never waked. A song, this woman was, a wild, pagan song fluted in a godless forest; a thing of sweeping ivory curves and black hair like a storm cloud down her back . She turned her face to him and smiled, and her eyes were green and brown, like the forest. Atla knew, then, that she had been the fascination and the far off music, the warm wind that called him on. He stepped closer, unsteadily his mind in a crazy turmoil of emotion, and she laughed, a high, wild shrilling that struck through him like a silver sword. Shining with water drops on her skin and her midnight hair, she came toward him through the stream with a strangely undulant galt, and the water rippled and shoaled as it never could with a human form. Black. glistening curves broke the surface, and there was a ring of hoofs on rock. Atla screamed and shrank away, sick with a cold, sudden fear. Yet there was a wild sweet piping in the air again, close now and indefinitely soft. His nerves quivered with the smell of danger; there was a sensation in his body as of light, strong bonds tightening and trapping him. As from the other side of the universe, he heard a voice, Hedi's voice, calling his name. The piping drowned it out, and now there was another voice, a throaty sibilance like a summer wind. "I am Beudag the Contauress." "Demon's work!" whispered Atla hoarsely and sought to tear his eyes away from that ivory splendor that merged at the waist into the body of the beast; a beautiful, vital, satin-skinned beast, with a black banner of a tail that matched the sable cloud on the woman's head. A silken mesh of wizardry mazed his brain, caught his gaze to the wonder of green brown eyes and little pointed ears with silky black tufts at their tips. Again his foot bore him faltering forward. Boudag laughed, and the eerie sound drained all strength from him. The world fled away on a midnight tide, and Atla pitched heavily froward, the wild mirth of the beast-thing ringing in his ears. IT WAS night, and fires flared in the clearing, so that the stream was a running flame.
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