Page 37 - Folio Only

Colpevole. Except for the luminosity. She, too, was all white. In fact,
Bartolomeo noticed, all four of them were all white. But only Colpevole and
Allevatore had a tinge of red.

What did she say? Was she talking to me?

“Lead us! Bartolomeo!” she whispered. “At the north, along the Eastern
Edge behind us, lies Notto Pascolo, the land of Night Pastures, watched over by
Diana of the Night Moon. At noon, at the Apex, we will break away with you.
Lead us Notto Pascolo, Bartolomeo, lead us, lead us!”

Remember that Bartolomeo had kept to himself, had not said a word,
had not made any attempt to make friends or allegiances. Or herds! he
thought, who ever said anything about forming a herd! I’m just heading off on
my own. I don’t need anyone. I don’t trust anyone. ‘Lead us’!? ‘We’ll follow
you to the East!?’ It’s a trap, of course. I see right through it. They want me to
think we’re on the same side, in order to...to...so, so they’ll know when I’m going
to bolt and they’ll cut me off and force back to the chariot. Or, or, they’re trying
to make me trust them and tell them that, yes, I’m planning on bolting. Well, I
won’t trust them. They’re trying to trick me into Immolation. Clouds engulfed
them briefly, then released them back into open sky. The ground, far below,
was spotted with light and shadow from the clouds and the space between.
The morning was beginning to give way to nearly mid-day.

Still. A herd? It had never occurred to Bartolomeo that he might one day
have a family of his own. He had always assumed because of the irregular
proportions of his legs and the unbearable bulge on the right side of his face
that the rest of his body must be equally unfit, and having children of his own
was never to be an option for him. Still, it occurred to him only now, the
transfiguration from human into horse had given him a new body; a not ill-
shapen body. A perfect body, one which might in fact, be perfectly fit to
engender a herd. Notto Pascolo. Never heard of such a place. She’s making it

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