Title: The Hour of the Gate
Author(s): Alan Dean Foster
Release year: 1984
Publisher: Warner Books
Why in Database: The second volume of the Spellsinger series. As in volume one, here too the turtle named Clothahump appears, we spend even more time with him, because this time for the whole book he is part of the main team. Below we present only a few selected fragments.
The first excerpt describes the capture of a group, including Clothahump:
He had resigned himself to a long period of jouncing and bumping, but it hardly seemed he’d been picked up when he was unceremoniously dumped on the ground. Flor was dropped next to him. One by one he watched as the rest of his companions were deposited alongside. They mashed down the grass so he could see them clearly, lined up like so many kabobs. The similarity was not encouraging.
Clothahump had evidentally retreated into his shell in an attempt to avoid being moved. They had simply hefted him shell and all to carry him. When he finally stuck arms and legs out again, they were waiting with lassos and ropes. They managed to snare only a leg before he retreated in on himself.
Mutterings issued from inside the shell. This produced excited conversation among the creatures. They kicked and punched at the impervious body frantically.
The activity was directed by one of their number, who displayed a variety of metal ornaments and decorative bits of bone in hair and beard. Under his direction a couple of the creatures poked around inside the shell. They were soon able to drag the protesting, indignant turtle’s head out. With the aid of others they shoved several bunches of dried, balled-up grass into his mouth and secured the gag tightly. Clothahump reached up to pull the stuffing out, and they tied his arms also. At that point he slumped back and looked exhausted.
The second brings us closer to Clothahump’s way of thinking:
”We must not bemoan our losses,” Clothahump said chidingly, ”but must push ahead. At least we will no longer be troubled by the Mimpa.” He let out an unwizardly chuckle. ”It will be days before they cease running.”
Third, like the second one, brings us closer to Clothahump’s way of thinking:
Jon-Tom continued to stand there, watching the crippled otter make his loping way eastward. ”But he was so helpful.”
”We do not know that yet,” the turtle insisted. ”I was willing to chance a little silver on it, but not a major medical spell. He could simply have told us his stories to impress us, and the name to get rid of us.”
”Awfully cynical, aren’t you?”
Clothahump gazed up at him as they both scrambled into the wagon. ”My boy, the first hundred years Of life teaches you that no one is inherently good. The next fifty tells you that no one is inherently bad, but is shaped by his surroundings. And after two hundred years… give me a hand there, that’s a good boy.” Jon-Tom helped lug the bulky body over the wooden rail and into the wagon. ”After two hundred years, you leam that nothing is predictable save that the universe is full of illusions. If the cosmos withholds and distorts its truths, why should we expect less of such pitifully minute components of it as that otter… or you, or me?”
Again about Clothahump’s way of thinking:
Clothahump did not pull away from the batrachian face inches from his own. ”I am a wizard and fear only that which I cannot understand, boatman.
Fifth is about swiming Clothahump:
A slick palm touched one fluttering foot, pushed gently. Looking back he could make out the plump shape of Clothahump. He was swimming casually around the nonaquatics. The water took a hundred years off his age, and he moved with the grace and ease of a ballet dancer.
The penultimate fragment focuses on the turtle’s physical fitness:
”No, no. The color is all wrong, supple shadow, and there is no sign of separation; levels, floors, or windows.” Caz faced the wizard. ”What is your opinion of it, sir?”
”Just a moment, will you?” Clothahump sounded irritable. ”I’m not fully awake yet. Do you children think I have your physical resiliency simply because my brain is so much more active? Now then, this surely cannot be dangerous.” He called back to Bribbens. ”Steady ahead, my good boatman.”
The last fragment is again about Clothahump’s way of thinking and his will to live:
”Well, sir,” he finally got out, ”among my people there’s a certain mental condition.”
”Go on, boy.”
”It has a common name. It’s called a death wish.”
”That’s interesting,” said Clothahump thoughtfully. ”I presume it refers to someone who wishes to die.”
Jon-Tom nodded. ”Sometimes the person isn’t aware of it himself and it has to be pointed out to him by another. Even then he may not believe it.”
They walked on a while longer before he added, ”Sir, no disrespect intended, but do you think you might have a death wish?”
”On the contrary, my boy,” replied the wizard, apparently not offended in the least, ”I have a life wish. I’m only putting myself into danger to preserve life for others. That hardly means I want to relinquish my own.”
”I know, sir, but it seems to me that you’ve taken us from one danger to another only to take successively bigger risks. In other words, the more we survive, the more you seem to want to chance death.”
”A valid contention based solely on the evidence and your personal interpretation of it,” said Clothahump. ”You ignore one thing: I wish to survive and live as much as any of you.”
”Can you be certain of that, sir? After all, you’ve already lived more than twice a normal human lifetime, a much fuller life than any of the rest of us.” He gestured at the others.
”Would it pain you so much to die?”
”I follow your reasoning, my boy. You’re saying that I am willing to risk death because I’ve already had a reasonable life and therefore have less than you to lose.”
Jon-Tom didn’t reply.
”My boy, you haven’t lived long enough to understand life. Believe me, it is more precious to me now because I have less of it. I guard every day jealously because I know it may be my last. I don’t have less to lose than you: I have more to lose.”
Author: XYuriTT
