The time was short, but Vaintè had been planning this assault for days, not knowing if she would ever be able to order it, but ready still if that opportunity should come. The hurried preparations were accomplished with the efficiency of all Yilanè cooperative ventures, only Enge causing any difficulties at all. She insisted on talking to Vaintè, was fiercely determined to stay until the audience was granted. She was surprised that her request was instantly granted.
“What are these orders you have issued, Vaintè? What do you wish to do with the Daughters of Life?”
“I am sarn’enoto. You will address me that way.”
Enge drew herself up—then realized that personal pride was not important now.
“From one lowest to one highest, I spoke in haste, sarn’enoto. Please inform me of the nature of your commands.”
“You and your companions will be sent north in boats. You will not be required to use weapons or to kill. We wish only your labors to aid your city.”
“There is more to it than that. You have not told me all of your plans.”
“No, I have not. Nor will I. You eat the food of Alpèasak, you are protected by those who are ready to die for Alpèasak. When your assistance is needed you will do as you are ordered.”
“There is something wrong here and I do not like it. What if we refuse?”
“You will still go. Bound and tied together if necessary, but you will go. Now you will leave my presence. The choice is yours and the decision of no importance to me at all. Leave me. I have much to do.”
Vaintè’s firmness of mind—and indifference to their decision—must have convinced Enge that the Daughters would be bound and loaded that way if they did not do as they had been ordered. In the first light of dawn the Daughters of Life labored to load the supplies aboard the boats, then boarded themselves without further protest.
Vaintè herself made sure that all the night defenses were there, but she turned away instantly when Stallan hurried up with a file of pictures clamped between her thumbs.
“These are the enlarged pictures you ordered, sarn’enoto.”
“Did you see him? Is he with this pack?”
Stallan’s movements were ambiguous. “There is one creature that it might be, but they all have fur, they all look the same to me.”
Vaintè seized the pictures and went through them quickly, throwing them to the ground one by one—until she found what she wanted. She held the picture up in triumph.
“Here, without a doubt, it is Kerrick! The fur has grown back as you said, but that face, there is no mistake. He is there, on that shore, and he shall not escape. You know what you are to do?”
“I do. It is a good plan.”
Having said this, Stallan permitted herself one of her rare demonstrations of good humor. “A very happiness-making plan. It is the first time that I have welcomed an ustuzou attack.”
The loading done, Stallan led the boats north. Only at the end of the day did she discover that all of the effort had been wasted. Although they did everything as planned, sailed all day north to reach the appointed beach at dusk, unloaded and prepared the trap, it was not to be sprung. In the last light of day an uruketo appeared beyond the breakers, the accompanying enteesenat sporting about it. A Yilanè waved for attention from the top of the great fin. Stallan commanded one of the night boats to take her out to it. When she was close the Yilanè called down to her.
“I speak for Vaintè. She tells you to return to Alpèasak in the morning. Bring everything back. The attack is not to go ahead as planned.”
This was the last thing that Stallan expected. She moved in interrogation and dismay.
“The reason,” the Yilanè said, “is that the ustuzou are gone. They have left the beach and returned inland as fast as they can crawl. There are none left for us to destroy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was late afternoon before the raptor flew south. The great bird had killed a rabbit earlier in the day, then had flapped up to the top of a tall dead tree with its prey still kicking in its talons. Perching there, it had torn the creature apart and had eaten it. When it was done it remained, sated. The dark lump on its leg was obvious to anyone who might have looked up at it from the huddle of tents below. The raptor wiped its hooked beak clean on the bark, preened its feathers—and finally launched itself into the air. Rising in ever higher circles it turned and flew away to the south.
One of the boys who had been ordered to watch the bird ran at once to tell Kerrick, who shielded his eyes and looked at the sky, saw the white speck vanishing in the distance.
“Herilak, it is gone,” he called out.
The big hunter turned from the deer’s carcass that he was butchering, arms red to the elbows. “There may be others.”
“There may be, we can never be sure. But that flock of seabirds is gone and the boys say that there are no other large birds to be seen.”
“What do you think that we should do, margalus?”
“Leave now and not wait for dark. We have all the food we need, there is nothing to be gained by staying here any longer.”
“Agreed. We go.”
Inside the tents all of their belongings had already been bundled and tied, ready for departure. As the tents came down the travois were lashed to the mastodons and quickly loaded. Everyone was eager to leave the menace of the coast for the security of the mountains. Even as the last loads were being tied into place the first protesting mastodon was trudging heavily away. The hunters looked over their shoulders as they left, but the beach was empty, as was the sky. The fires still smoked on the shore, the half-gutted deer hung from the frame. The sammads were gone.
They walked until dark, stopped and ate cold meat, lit no fires, then went on. The march continued through the night with only brief halts to rest the animals. By dawn they were in the forested hills, distant from the route they had taken on their westward trek to the beaches. The mastodons were freed of the travois so they could graze while the weary sammads slept under the trees.
When Armun opened her eyes the slanting beams of light through the branches showed that it was afternoon. The baby’s hungry, fretting crying had woken her. She sat with her back to the bole of the tree and put him to her breast. Kerrick was no longer sleeping at her side; she saw him in the glade talking with the sammadars. His face was set and serious when he trudged back up the hill, but it lit up with a smile when he saw her there. Her smile mirrored his and she took his hand in hers when he sat next to her.
“We are leaving soon,” he said, turning away as he saw the loving smile fade from her lips; her hand clenched hard.
“You have to do this?” she said, and it was halfway between a statement and a question.
“You know that I must. It was my plan—I cannot let the others go to the attack without me.”
“You’ll be leaving me. . .” There was a hoarseness to her voice, all the pain of her lonely life behind her words. “You are all that I have.”
“That is not true. You have Arnwheet now and you will keep him safe until I return. I am doing this, all of us are going for the same reason, so that the sammads will be safe. There is no security as long as the murgu can hunt and slay us. When they are dead, only then can we live in peace as we once did. Go with the sammads to the meadow at the bend in the river. We will join you there before the winter is out. Stay safe until I return.”
“You will come back to me, tell me that.”
She had her head down and her rich hair fell across her face just as it had done when he had first seen her. The baby sucked and smacked lustily, looking up at him with round blue eyes. Kerrick reached out and held Armun lightly by the chin, raised her face to his. He brushed the hair aside and ran his fingertips down her face, then lightly across her divided lips.
“Like you, I lived a life alone,” he said, quietly so only she could hear. “Like you, I was different from all those around me, hated them all. That is all past now. We are together—and we shall never be a
part again after I return. That I promise you.”
The loving caress on her lips disarmed her, for she knew that he truthfully meant what he had said, that he could look at her face like this without laughing. The tears welled up and she could only nod agreement as he rose and left. She looked at the baby, holding it and rocking it back to sleep, not raising her eyes again until she knew that the hunters were gone.
Herilak led the way up into the hills, staying in the shadow of the trees all the while. He walked at a fast and steady pace and the others followed. They were all strong and fit, had eaten well before the march began. They were bent now under the weight of the burdens on their back, but most of this was food so their packs would become lighter as they went. It was important at this time not to take the time to hunt, but to put as much distance between themselves and the sammads as they could. When the birds flew, as fly they would, their departure must not be noted. They must vanish into the wilderness.
They went on without stopping until it was too dark to see the track, until they were stumbling with fatigue. Only then did Herilak call a halt. He dropped his burden to the ground and the others did the same, grunting with pleasure. Kerrick came and sat next to him and shared his meat. They ate in silence as the darkness thickened and the stars appeared. Above them in the trees an owl called.
“Are they watching us already? Will that owl tell the other birds that we are here?” Herilak asked, concerned.
“No. That is just an owl. The birds that spy us out talk only to the murgu, not to one another. The raptor that saw us yesterday will not have returned to Alpèasak yet, so they still believe that we are camped on the shore. By the time they discover that we have gone and send others to look for us, we will be far distant. They will find the sammads and track them. They will not think to look for us here. Our danger of being seen will only come again when we are close to their city.”
“Then it will be too late.”
“Yes, then it will be too late for them.”
Brave words, Kerrick thought to himself, and smiled wryly in the darkness. Could this little band of hunters really destroy that mighty city with all its teeming inhabitants? It did not seem possible. How many were there here? Less than the count of three hault, the count of three men. Armed with hèsotsan—but so were the Yilanè. Hèsotsan and arrows and spears to fight a powerful race that had filled the world since the egg of time. The impossibility of this brought a darkness to his thoughts even darker than the night around them. How could it be done?
Yet even as he felt these doubtful thoughts his fingers found the wooden chest he had brought with him from the valley. Inside the chest was the stone with the fire trapped inside it. With fire it might be done, could be done—would be done. With this firm resolve, held to him as tightly as he clenched the chest, he lay on his side and was asleep.
“The first birds that we sent out have returned,” Vaintè said. “The pictures have been examined and we think that the ustuzou pack from the shore is close to these mountains now, farther to the north.”
“You are sure?” Malsas< asked.
“There is never certainty with the ustuzou since one of the creatures is very much like any other. But we do know that they are on the beach no longer, nor are there any packs of them still to the south.”
Stallan stayed behind them, silent, listening. No packs had been found, she agreed with that. But nothing still meant nothing. There was something wrong in all this. She had that feeling, a hunter’s feeling, but did not know what was causing it. Malsas<, though not a hunter, all unknowingly shared her sense of unease.
“I don’t understand it. Why did the beasts make that long march to the shore—then leave almost at once?”
Vaintè moved with uncertainty. “They hunt for food that they must have for the winter. They fish in the sea.”
“They had time for little hunting,” Stallan said.
“Exactly,” Malsas< said. “Then what was their motive in doing this thing? Do they have motives—or do they simply run about like animals? You kept one for a long time, Vaintè, you must know.”
“They think. They reason. They have an animal cunning that can be very dangerous. We must never forget the way they killed the fargi on the beaches.”
“Your ustuzou escaped, didn’t he?” Malsas< asked. “Was it with that pack on the beach?”
Vaintè spoke as calmly as she could. “I believe so. That one is dangerous for it not only has the animal cunning of an ustuzou but some of the learning of Yilanè as well.” So Malsas< was spying on her, knew of her interest in the enlarged pictures. That was only to be expected: she would have done the same herself.
“The creature must be destroyed, its skin hung from the thorns.”
“My wish as well, Eistaa.”
“Then what do you plan to do?”
“As much as I would like to see that one ustuzou destroyed, I think it is of greater importance to kill all the ustuzou. In the end it will accomplish the same thing. All dead, he is dead.”
“That is a wise plan. How will you go about implementing it?”
“With the Eistaa’s permission I wish to launch a trumal that will end this menace completely.”
Malsas< registered appreciation and doubt in equal parts. She had taken part, as they all had, in trumal in the ocean of their youth—when different efenburu joined together, worked together in harmony against a single object. Many times a school of squid would be too large for one efenburu to handle. When they attacked like this the trumal would always end in complete destruction. There would be no survivors.
“I understand your doubt, Eistaa, but it must be done. More fargi must be obtained from the cities of Entoban*. More uruketo, more weapons. Then we will go north as spring ends, land, move west. Killing them all. By the end of summer we will have reached the mountains and will turn south then to the warm southern sea. Supplies will be brought to us during the winter. When the next spring comes we shall strike west of the mountains. By the following winter this species of ustuzou will be extinct. Not a single pair will be left to breed in some dark and noisome place. That is what I feel must be done.”
Malsas< heard this, accepted it. But she was still concerned about the possibility of such an ambitious plan. Could it be done? She looked at the model, thought of the vast distances, of the ustuzou teeming there. Could they really all be exterminated?
“They all must be killed,” she said, answering her own question aloud. “That is what must be done, this fact cannot be escaped. But can it be done this next summer? Would it not be better to send smaller parties, seek out and destroy these packs that we have found?”
“They will hide, they will go north into the frozen lands where we cannot follow. I wish it could be done in that way. But I am afraid that it cannot. An army of fargi, a sweep across the country. An end to this menace.”
“What do you say, Stallan?” Malsas< said, turning to the stolid, silent hunter. “You are our killer of ustuzou. Will this plan do what Vaintè says it will do? Shall we attempt it?”
Stallan looked at the immense model, ordering her thoughts so that she could speak them clearly.
“If there is a trumal the ustuzou will die. I do not know if enough force can be gathered together to do it. I do not rule so I cannot say. What I can say is that if the force is strong enough then the trumal will succeed.”
There was silence then as Malsas< weighed everything that had been said while the others waited. When she finally spoke it was a command.
“Trumal, sarn’enoto. Destroy the ustuzou.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Excuse the interruption of one so hard-working and important by one of little consequence,” Krunat said, hesitating as she approached Vaintè.
Vaintè was standing before the model of Gendasi, concentrating and preoccupied, with the coming attack filling her thoughts. Her greeting was an automatic acknowledgment and it took a moment for her to place the intruder. They had met before, yes, t
his was Krunat, she had taken over from Sòkain in the design of the expansion of the city. It was her assistants who had built this model of Gendasi, and Krunat had helped in the planning. Now she stood before Vaintè, humble as the lowest fargi. She was an excellent designer although she had too low an opinion of her own worth. With an effort Vaintè drew her thoughts away from the campaign plan and forced warmth into her speaking, despite her annoyance at the interruption.
“It is always an honor to speak with Krunat. How may I help you?”
Krunat shuffled the pictures she had brought, humility in every movement of her body.
“First, gratitude of the greatest order, Vaintè, for your development of the bird-picture technique. It has been of the greatest importance in city planning and expansion. My gratitude is endless.”
Vaintè permitted herself only a brief sign of acceptance since she did not wish her growing impatience to show. Krunat went slowly through the pictures as she talked.
“To the north of Alpèasak there are pine forests, but the soil is poor and sandy. I have been considering extension of canals to bring water to the area, perhaps the creation of wallows for some of the larger food-beasts. So there have been many pictures made of this area, all of course of no interest to you. Except, perhaps, this one. It could be of little worth, but we are interested in the native life forms for possible exploitation, so I had this one enlarged . . .”
Vaintè’s irritation was so great that she dared not speak, but some of her feelings seeped through when she tore the picture roughly from Krunat’s thumbs; the designer cringed back.
A single glance changed Vaintè’s manner completely. “Good Krunat,” she said warmly, “you were right to bring this to me. Can you point out the place on this model where the picture was made?”
As Krunat turned to the model Vaintè examined the picture again. An ustuzou, there could be no doubt, carrying a stone-pointed stick in one paw. This fool had stumbled upon something of importance.
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