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Tainaron - Mail from another city { 1 }
by Leena Krohn { 2 }
Burning on the mountain - the seventh letter { 137 }
{ 137 } |
'Do not look at it; it is not for you,' he enjoined me quickly. 'When the time of the new moon comes, draw the curtains and go to sleep.' | { 141 } |
Even though Longhorn had grown so uncommunicative-looking, I made so bold as to ask: 'Tell me: who lights those bonfires?' | { 143 } |
'They are no bonfires,' he said, and his voice did not grow any milder. 'They are not intended to delight the eye, and their ashes are not used for baking root vegetables.' | { 144 } |
'What are they, then?' I asked, and I realised my voice had dropped to a whisper. | { 145 } |
'Burnt offerings, sacrifices. They are sacrifices,' he replied. | { 146 } |
{ 147 } |
'Who is sacrificed?' I asked. In admiring the blaze, had I not noted a light smell hovering over the city? | { 148 } |
'Why do you keep asking?' Longhorn cried, growing angry. 'They set fire to themselves.' | { 149 } |
But I could not stop; I went on, stubbornly: 'But who are they? What do they want?' | { 150 } |
{ 152 } |
And he shook his fists at the mist-clad mountain that bowed over the city. 'How many innocent souls will they yet take with them to the pyre?' | { 154 } |
And I had gazed on the blaze as if it were a midnight flower, rejoicing! | { 158 } |
Will there ever be a new moon when there is no need to light a fire high on the hill? | { 160 } |
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