Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 73: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION others are wounded, none seriously. ‘They will serve to haul the ploughs.” “Our own men?” “One wounded, a clawed face. It is thought that he is blinded.” Kalin nodded and swung a leg over his mount. Slowly he rode back to the waiting group, the man loping easily at his side. “This should warn the Hairies away from our vil- lage,” said the man with deep satisfaction. “Most dead are young bucks and those we saved will serve us well.” He looked at the broken bow. “Your twanger is broken.” “Yes. Now I shall have to buy a new one and pay for it with food for a year.” The walrior scowled. “Always there is something. Our weapons break and cannot be mended. Stickers are lost and not true toaim. Food is scarce and the crops fail. It is a bad time for Kalin.” “Yet we have the treasure.” The man stared cunningly up at his leader. “With such a 72 treasure as we own it seems strange that the village should go hungry.” “Treasure!” Kalin didn’t try to hide his contempt. “Food for two men, and they eat more than even the workers in the fields. Food for the Guards, and they do nothing but lean on their spears. Fat for lamps, fire for warmth, clothing for which there is no return.” He looked at the man at his side. “How long has the village kept these men in idleness?” “For as long as men remember. Ever since the days of the great burning, or anyway, a little after that. Five generations? Six?” The man shrugged. “I know not.” “It has been for eight generations,’ said Kalin sombrely. ‘The marks made when the Kings die show the age of the village, and there has always been a Reader.” He thinned his lips. “And for why? What game have they killed? What good have they done? What enemies have they slain? Secrets!” He comiclbooks.corn