Wednesday - June 02, 2010

What’s Christopher reading?

I just had to share. Sometimes I come across passages that cry out “Share Me! Share Me!”

Either they cry out or I drank a bad batch of ale.

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks rereading the works of David Eddings. Made it through the first series–The Belgariad–without feeling the urge to share. I did take notes, but it’s the Mallorean series that’s really a ‘hoot’! Eddings has had time to really develop the characters. Take this scene from the second book Lord of the Murgos: Sadi’s pet–and highly venomous–snake is loose…again!

As Durnik and Toth pitched the tents, Garion and Eriond ranged out through the sodden willow thicket in search of firewood. It was difficult to find anything sufficiently dry to burn, and the effort of an hour yielded only enough twigs and small branches from under fallen trees to make a meager cook fire for Polgara. As she began to prepare their evening meal of beans and venison, Garion noted that Sadi was walking about their campsite, combing the ground with his eyes.

“This isn’t funny, dear,” he said quite firmly. “Now you come out this very minute.”

“What’s the matter?” Durnik asked him.

“Zith isn’t in her bottle,” Sadi replied, still searching.

Durnik rose from where he was sitting quite rapidly. “Are you sure?”

“She thinks it’s amusing to hide from me sometimes. Now, you come out immediately, you naughty snake.”

“You probably shouldn’t tell Silk,” Belgarath advised. “He’ll go directly into hysterics if he finds out that she’s loose.” The old man looked around. “Where is he, by the way?”

“He and Liselle went for a walk,” Eriond told him.

“In all this wet? Sometimes I wonder about him.”

Ce’Nedra came over and sat on the log beside Garion. He put his arm about her shoulders and drew her close to him. She snuggled down and sighed. “I wonder what Geran is doing tonight,” she said wistfully.

“Sleeping, probably.”

“He always looked so adorable when he was asleep.” She sighed again and then closed her eyes.

There was a crashing back in the willows, and Silk suddenly ran into the circle of firelight, his eyes very wide and his face deathly pale.

“What’s the matter?” Durnik exclaimed.

“She had that snake in her bodice!” Silk blurted.

“Who did?”

“Liselle!”

Polgara, holding a ladle in one hand, turned to regard the violently trembling little man with one raised eyebrow. “Tell me, Prince Kheldar,” she said in a cool voice, “exactly what were you doing in the Margravine Liselle’s bodice?”

Silk endured that steady gaze for a moment; then he actually began to blush furiously.

“Oh,” she said, “I see.” She turned back to her cooking.

Unfortunately the passage ends there. Polgara never does elaborate on just what she ‘saw’. Nor does Silk ever actually answer the question. Damn!

My next example comes from the third book, Demon Lord of Karanda. Our small party of heros, heroines, and assorted riff-raff have to cross the border, which is guarded;

The three remaining Guardsmen began to fall back, trying to give themselves room to use their lances, but they seemed unaware that Garion was returning to the fray–from behind them.

As Chretienne thundered toward the unsuspecting trio, a sudden idea came to Garion. Quickly he turned his lance sideways so that its center rested just in front of his saddlebow and crashed into the backs of the Guardsmen.

The springy cedar pole swept all three of them out of their saddles and over the heads of their horses. Before they could stumble to their feet, Sadi, Feldegast, and Durnik were on them, and the fight ended as quickly as it had begun.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody use a lance that way before,” Silk said gaily to Garion.

“I just made it up,” Garion replied with an excited grin. “I’m sure that there are at least a half-dozen rules against it.”

“We probably shouldn’t mention it, then.”

“I won’t tell anybody if you don’t.”

Durnik was looking around critically. The ground was littered with Guardsmen who were either unconscious or groaning over assorted broken bones. Only the man Toth had poked in the stomach was still in his saddle, though he was doubled over, gasping for breath. Durnik rode up to him. “Excuse me,” he said politely, removed the poor fellow’s helmet, and then rapped him smartly on top of the head with the butt of his axe. The Guardsman’s eyes glazed, and he toppled limply out of the saddle.

Belgarath suddenly doubled over, howling with laughter. “Excuse me?” he demanded of the smith.

“There’s no need to be uncivil to people, Belgarath,” Durnik replied stiffly.

Would that our politicians would be so civil!

Posted by Christopher     on 06/02/2010 at 03:39 PM   
Filed Under: • Fun-Stuff • Humor • Literature •  
• Comments (3) • Trackbacks(0)  Permalink •  

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