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Chant Prip

Page history last edited by PBworks 14 years, 7 months ago

Chant Prip


Name: Chant Prip





Further Info:...


None had seen the like. Chorum’s Mill was a

Marvel of invention. Wheels upon wheels,

Granite and interlocking gears, axles and

Spokes and rims of iron, a machine that climbed

From that fast river three full levels and ground

The finest flour Lether had ever seen –

Some say it was the rain, the deluge that filled

The water’s course through the mill’s stony toes.

Some say it was the sheer complexity that was

The cause of it all, the conceit of a mortal man’s

Vision. Some say it was the Errant’s nudge, fickle

And wayward that voiced the sudden roar that dawn,

The explosions of stone and the shrieks of iron,

And the vast wheels breaking free and bursting

Through the thick walls, and the washing women

Downstream the foam at their thighs looked up

To see their granite doom rolling down –

Not a wrinkle left, not a stain survived, and old

Misker, perched on Ribble the Mule, well the mule

Knew its place as it bolted and leapt head-first

Down the well, but poor old Misker hugged the

Draw pail on its rope and so swung clear, to

Skin his knees on the round’s cobbles and swear

Loud, the boisterous breath preceding the fateful

Descent of toothy death the gear wheel, tall as any

Man but far taller than Misker (even perched on

His mule) and that would not be hard once it was

Done with him, why the rat – oh, did I forget to

Mention the rat?


Excerpt from The Rat’s Tail (the cause of it all)

Chant Prip

MT, UK Trade, p.464


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