The Ancient Enemy by Christopher Rowley Page A

father of two daughters. Derai greeted him with the same calm smile and inquired as to Cutshamakim's health. Since Cutshamakim had been in perfect health for ten times ten thousand years, it was clearly no more than a matter of form.
    In Cart Lane Thru found a gang of roosters out to welcome him home. At the front was Tucka, of course, and right behind him were Pok and Tikka Tonk and Chum and Ruddo, the noisiest males in chooktown.
    "Back at last!"
    "Yes, friends, I'm back in the village. Do you think people will accept it? Will they let me back?"
    Wings flapped, and big chooks jumped on the spot and cackled.
    "Everyone glad that Thru Gillo back in village."
    "Especially the team. They need you."
    "Need you bad."
    "I hear that, and maybe I can help them, if I haven't lost the touch the Spirit gave me. And how are things in your house, Tucka?"
    "Two new chicks hatched this year. Another egg on the way. We going to be busy chooks around here."
    Pok dikka dikka Pokaduk, ruling rooster of the Pokaduk clan, pushed his way past Tucka.
    "A new chick hatched this year. Pokaduk house is pretty noisy."
    "Goodness, Pok, it already was. Hey, there, Tikka Tonk..."
    "Hey, Thru Gillo, mot of the bat!"
    Of course, not everyone in the village was as pleased to see him as the chooks. One evening in the town tavern he found himself only a few feet away from Pern Treevi. Pern was now locked in a dispute with the Gillo family over the seapond held by Ware. Pern looked at Thru, his lip curled, and he muttered something insulting.
    Thru smiled, long used to Pern's dislike.
    "Would you like to repeat that so I can hear it?"
    Pern's sneer flattened and his eyes glared back at Thru, but he said nothing.
    "Talking to yourself, were you?"
    "Leave me alone, Gillo."
    Thru was daring him to step closer, or even outside for a little knuckle play. Pern had lost in the old schoolyard fights, and wasn't interested in trying that again. Pern turned away to where his friend Lem Frobin was standing. Frobin gave Thru a hard stare, Thru returned it with his habitual smile. Frobin and Treevi moved away.
    Back in his home, he threw himself into the work of the farm. It was springtime, and there was planting to be done. Snejet soon remarked on the fact that Thru's planting was now perfect. All the waterbush for that spring was planted in a mere six days.
    He rejoined the village team for bat and ball. Even the mot he displaced, Hemper Fravo, agreed to the move. Hemper would get back in, as soon as someone was injured. Meanwhile they had the hitting of Thru back in their arsenal, and Warkeen began beating the villages for miles around. Thru even set a few records, stroking in forty-eight runs in one match against the Barstool Runners, a well-known outfit from Yonsh.
    Chooks hanging around the ball games called him Scars and cheered every time he connected and sent the small white ball hurtling away toward the distant boundary.
    Ware noticed that Thru had become much more serious about archery practice, too. In the mornings, almost every day, he found his oldest son shooting at a target over two hundred paces away. Thru now carried a dozen steel points in his quiver, and all his arrows were fully fletched.
    Ware Gillo was impressed. Suddenly he found himself wishing he had gone to Highnoth when he was young. And yet, Ware had never felt the pull to do that when he was young. He had always wanted to farm, to improve his holdings.
    The two hunted rabbits together one day. Ware rarely bothered to shoot since Thru was more accurate by far at the longer ranges. They took a brace and one extra. Old Aunt Paidi was alone now and needed help to make ends meet.
    Ware made sure to take these moments slowly and to the full. For father and son would not have many more, something told him. His first son had grown up to be an unusually wise and gifted young mot. Soon, this most precious youth would move on to a wider world. Ware knew it in his heart. But he would have the memory of