This continued all night, with fresh hunters coming out to take the place of the tired ones. Kerrick and Herilak slept for a bit, then woke and ordered the hunters back to the stone barricade at the first gray light of dawn.
They stood ready all day waiting for the attack, some guarding while others slept. The morning passed and the attack never came. By afternoon, still without a murgu attack, Herilak was beset by volunteers who wanted to scout the enemy positions. He refused them all. Nothing would be gained by losing more lives. When dusk came—still without any sign of an attack—he and Kerrick had themselves wrapped in cloth once again. They went forward carefully, weapons ready, but there were no defenders lying in wait for them this time. Still as cautiously they crept up the river bank and raised their cloth-wrapped heads above the edge, peering through the slitted fabric.
The plain was empty.
As swiftly as they had come the enemy had vanished, their tracks and animal droppings pointing to the horizon.
“They are gone. We have beaten them!” Herilak roared, shaking his fists victoriously at the sky.
“Not beaten,” Kerrick said, suddenly dizzy with fatigue. He dropped cross-legged to the ground, tearing the suffocating cloth from his face and looking out at the retreating track. “They have been defeated here, pushed back. But they are like poisonous thorns. We cut them in one place and they only grow stronger in another.”
“Then we will root out these thorns once and for all. Destroy them so that they cannot grow and return.”
Kerrick nodded solemn agreement. “That is what we must do. And I know just how it can be done. Now we will call together the sammads and the manduktos of the Sasku. The time has come to wipe the Yilanè away just as they have tried to root out and kill us.
“We are going to take the battle to them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The two boys, dripping with perspiration from their proximity to the flames, added sticks of dry wood to the fire whenever it died down. These blazed up brightly, bathing the cavern interior with a wavering golden light so that the animals painted there appeared to move as the flames flickered. Sanone had not arrived yet, but the other manduktos sat beneath the image of the mastodon as was their right. Kerrick, Herilak, and the sammadars were all seated on the same side of the fire as well.
Beyond the flames were the hunters, with others from the sammads behind them. Sanone had agreed to this with great reluctance since it was the custom of the Sasku for the manduktos to make all the decisions, and he found it difficult to understand that the sammadars did not rule with the same authority. This compromise had finally been reached, with the leaders on one side and the sammads on the other. The Sasku were not sure what to make of this unusual arrangement and only a few came close and listened from the darkness, looking expectantly over the shoulders of those seated before them. They stirred with mixed emotions, pleasure and fear, as a mastodon trumpeted in the darkness. There was a thud of heavy feet, torches coming close, dark forms moving.
Into the circle of light the mastodons came, the great cow Dooha being led by Sanone, one of the Tanu boys high on her neck, guiding her. But the Sasku were not looking at her, but at the newborn baby at her side. Sanone reached out and touched the small creature’s trunk and a murmur of happiness welled up from the darkness. Only then did he join the others by the fire.
Armun sat just behind the hunters, the baby burbling gently in its sleep, comfortable in the deerskin carrier on her back. Then Kerrick rose to speak and the talking died away. She covered her face with her hands so others would not see her smile of pride. He looked so erect and strong standing there in the firelight, his long hair bound about by a charadis cloth, his beard now fully grown. When there was silence he turned so that they all could hear him as he spoke.
“Yesterday we killed the murgu. Today we buried them, so all here know how many of them died during the attack. We killed them in great numbers and the few that lived have now fled. They will not be coming back, not now.”
There were shouts of approval from the hunters at these words, and from the darkness the sound of rapid drumming and the clatter of the Sasku gourd rattles when he had translated his words for them. Kerrick waited until they were silent again before he spoke.
“They will not be back now—but they will be back. They will come back stronger, with better weapons to kill. They always come back. They will return again and again and will not stop until we are all dead. That is the truth and must always be remembered. Remember too those of us who have died.”
The silence now was a grim one, Herilak’s voice just as grim when he spoke.
“This is indeed the truth,” dark bitterness in his voice. “Kerrick knows because his sammad was the first one the murgu destroyed. He alone lived, he alone was taken by the murgu and was held captive by them, learned to speak with them. He knows their ways so you must listen when he talks of murgu. You must listen also when I talk of death for I am here and Ortnar sits there—and all others in our sammad are dead. Every hunter, every woman and child, every mastodon, slain by the murgu.”
The listeners moved with the pain of his words and Sanone looked up at the mastodon above him and whispered silent prayers to the memory of those great beasts as he listened to Kerrick’s quick translation.
“There is no place to flee to, no hiding place where we cannot be found,” Kerrick told them. “The sammads who sit here fought them on the beach of the great ocean, on the plains of the duckbills, and yet again in this valley after crossing the high mountains to escape these murgu. Now the time has come for us to stop running away. We know now that they will always find us. So now I tell you what we must do.”
Kerrick paused for breath, looking out at their expectant faces, then he spoke.
“We must bring the battle to them, go to their city—and destroy it.”
There were shouts of disbelief at this, mixed with cries of approval. The Sasku called out questioningly and Kerrick translated what he had said into Sesek. Then Har-Havola’s voice rose above the others and they grew silent again and listened.
“How can we do this? How can we fight those armies of murgu? How can we destroy an entire city? These are things I do not understand.”
“Then listen,” Kerrick said. “Here is how it can be done. Herilak knows all the trails that go to the city of Alpèasak because he has led his hunters there and killed murgu there—and returned alive. He will do that again. Only this time it will not be a handful of hunters he will lead but many hunters. He will lead them by stealth through the jungles so the murgu armies will not find them no matter how they search. He will lead the hunters to Alpèasak and I will then show them the way to destroy that city and every murgu in it. I will tell you now how it can be done, I will show you now how it will be done.” He turned to the manduktos and repeated what he had said so that they would understand as well.
The silence was absolute. Not a watcher moved. Every eye was upon him as he stepped forward. A baby cried thinly in the distance and was instantly hushed. One stride, then another, brought Kerrick to the fire. He seized up a dry branch and thrust it into the blaze, poked it into the glowing embers until a cloud of sparks rose up. Then he pulled it out, crackling and blazing, and held it high.
“This is what we will do—we will bring fire to their city of trees where there has never been fire before. The murgu do not use fire, do not know of the destruction it can cause. We will now show them. We will set fire to Alpèsak, burn it, raze it, burn every murgu within it and leave nothing but ashes behind!”
His words were lost in their wild howls of agreement.
Herilak strode forward to join him, holding up a burning brand as well, shouting his allegiance, his voice unheard in the tumult. The other sammadars did the same while Kerrick was translating for the manuktos. When he understood Sanone held back, waiting until the noise died away, before striding to the fire. Seizing a burning length of wood and holding it high.
“It is
Kadair who made this valley for us and guided us here when there was just darkness. Then he made the stars for us so the sky would not be empty, then put the moon there to light our way. But it was still too dark for the plants to grow so he put the sun in the sky as well, and that is how the world has been ever since. We live in this valley for we are the children of Kadair.” He looked slowly around at the silent audience, filled his lungs—then screeched aloud a single word.
“Karognis.”
The Sasku women covered their faces and the men moaned aloud as though in pain; the Tanu watched this with great interest, though they understood nothing. Now when Sanone spoke he strode back and forth by the fire, his voice loud and commanding.
“Karognis came disguised as these creatures called murgu and they were defeated. The ones that did not die fled. But that is not enough. While they live Karognis lives and while the threat of his existence lives we cannot be safe. Therefore Kadair came to us in this newborn mastodon to show us the way to defeat Karognis. The mastodon people will attack and kill the murgu.” He bent suddenly and seized up another burning branch and swirled it over his head. “We will go with you. Karognis will be destroyed! We will fight beside you. The killers of the holy beasts will be consumed by flames.”
His gesture was enough, his listeners did not have to understand his words in order to roar approval. The future had been decided. Everyone wanted to talk then and there was much shouting and confusion that quieted slowly only when Herilak shouted them into silence.
“Enough! We know what we want to do, but I wish to hear from Kerrick how it will be done. I know that he has thought long about this matter. Let him speak.”
“I will tell you how it will be done,” Kerrick said. “As soon as the snow melts in the mountain passes we will cross the mountains again with all the sammads. We may be seen then by the murgu, we will certainly be seen when we reach the other side. Therefore they must see sammads on the move, women and children, not a Tanu army on the march. They must be deceived. We will meet with other sammads as we go west, then we will separate and join again, confuse our trail. To the murgu we all look alike so they will surely lose track of us. Only after this has been done will we strike for the ocean shore. We will hunt and we will fish—just as we did before when we killed the murgu who came to kill us. They will see that and they will think about that—and they will believe that it is another trap.”
Kerrick had given this much thought, trying to put himself in the Yilanè mind, trying to think as they would think. As Vaintè would think, for he knew that she was still out there, relentless, that she would keep on leading the fargi against them as long as she was alive. She would, of course, suspect a trap, would do her best to turn the trap upon them. There were many ways she could do that—but he did not care what she did. The sammads would not be there when she struck.
“It does not matter what the murgu believe,” he said. “Because the sammads will leave the shore before the attackers can reach us. They will stay just long enough to get food for the winter. This will be easily done since there will be many hunters—and few to eat the food. For when we turn back and pass through the hills we will divide. The sammads will go on to the mountains, to the snow for safety.
“But the murgu-hunters will go south. Fast. We will carry some food—but we will hunt for the rest as we go. Herilak knows the tracks through the hills, for he has been that way twice before. We will move as only hunters can move through a forest, and perhaps we will not be seen. But the murgu have many eyes and we cannot hope to escape them all. It does not matter. They will not be able to stop us. They have only a few hunters skilled in woodcraft—and we are many. If they seek us out they will die. If they send the fargi in armies they will die in armies. We will vanish into the forests and we will wait until the time is right. When the dry winds blow, before the winter rains, we will strike them. Burn them and destroy them. That is what we will do.”
It was decided then. If any disagreed they were quiet and did not speak, for all who spoke wanted to do this thing. They wanted to fight back.
When the fire had died down and the talking was done they left the meeting and went to their tents and their rock-walled rooms. Armun came and walked beside Kerrick.
“Must you do this thing?” she asked, and in her voice was the knowledge that he would do it, so much so that he did not answer. “Do not be too brave, Kerrick. I do not wish to live in a world without you.”
“Nor I without you. But this must be done. That creature Vaintè will come after me until one of us is dead. I take the war to Alpèasak to be sure that she is the one who falls. With her dead, the city burned, the Yilanè destroyed, then we will be able to live in peace. But not until then. You must understand. There is nothing else that I can do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ever since her return to Alpèasak it had been made clear to Vaintè that she was out of favor with Malsas<. nor was the reason too hard to understand. Vaintè was the first sarn’enoto the city had ever known, and her power at times had exceeded even that of the Eistaa herself. Malsas< had approved of this, had approved of all the preparations Vaintè had made. Vaintè had fallen from favor only after her return from the west.
Until this had happened the resources of the city had been hers to command, even the resources of the great continent across the sea. The fleet of uruketo that had brought the citizens of Inegban* to Alpèasak had made the voyage many times to the cities of Entoban* bearing welcome messages, telling them that there was a whole new world across the western sea, that the city of Alpèasak was now established there. Alpèasak, growing and expanding in that unknown wilderness, could be of aid to the cities of Entoban*, could relieve of them of the excess of fargi that clogged their cities’ ways, ate the cities’ food. The Eistaa of these cities were only too happy to rid themselves of the burden of unwanted fargi, happy as well to grant small favors in the way of beasts and plants that Alpèasak could make use of.
While this was happening a model of Gendasi was growing close beside that of Alpèasak. At first only the coast north of Alpèasak was well known and complete in detail, while inland from the ocean there were little or no markings. This gradually changed as the raptors and the newer birds produced more and more pictures of the continent. Skilled Yilanè translated their flat designs into mountains and rivers, valleys, and forests, until the model grew in richest detail. West of Alpèasak there was a warm sea with a verdant coastline. Wide rivers drained into it from a land of plenty, theirs for the taking. Except for the ustuzou, of course.
Their presence in this otherwise perfect landscape was a great annoyance. They were there, almost all of them in the north, and the positions of their packs were carefully noted on the model. The packs were scattered in a thin and broken line from the ocean to the high mountains, just south of the ice and snow. In due time they would be hunted down and slain. When some of them had come south, Vaintè had taken her fargi on the new uruktop and tarakast and sought them out, killed them and drove them back to the land of ice. With each victory like this Vaintè’s esteem had grown. It would take a great failure indeed to bring her down from grace.
When more ustuzou had been discovered to the west, prowling comfortably away from the snowy north, Vaintè knew instantly that they must be destroyed. The distance was great, but her urge for revenge was greater. Many uruketo were needed to move the great mass of fargi and mounts to their landing site on the coast. At winter’s end Vaintè had led forth an army such as the world had never seen before. They had marched inland, well supplied and equipped with strong defenses. The location of every ustuzou was known and, one by one, each pack was to be overwhelmed and destroyed. This was to be the beginning of the end for the ustuzou.
Then the defeated army had returned.
Word of what had happened had reached the city long before the first fargi had come ashore. When Vaintè had made her report to the council Malsas< had not been present. The Eistaa’s absence had been mes
sage enough. The council listened coldly to her explanations, tallied up her losses, then had dismissed her. Sent her away like a common fargi.
After this fall from power Vaintè had not gone near the ambesed where the Yilanè gathered each day, where the Eistaa sat, the hub of the city. She stayed away, alone and apparently forgotten, waited for a message that never came. She was out of favor and none came near her lest they share her outcast position as well.
After many days had passed she did have one visitor, though one that she would rather not have seen. But a meeting with an efenselè could never be avoided.
“It would have to be you,” Vaintè said grimly. “The only one who will risk being seen with me, a Daughter of Death.”
“I wish to talk, efenselè,” Enge said. “I have heard many things said about this last adventure and all of them sadden me.”
“I am not that pleased myself, efenselè. When I left here I was sarn’enoto. Now I sit alone and wait for a summons that never comes—and do not even know if I am the sarn’enoto who commands or something lower than a fargi.”
“I am not here to add to your misery. Although those who swim to the top of the highest wave . . .”
“Can only sink into the deepest trough. Save your crude philosophies for your comrades. I know all of the stupidities that your founder Farneksei has spoken and reject them in their totality.”
“I will make my stay a brief one. I ask you only to tell me the truth behind the whispered stories . . .”
Vaintè cut her off with abrupt silencing slashes of her thumbs. “I care nothing about what the stupid fargi tell one another, nor will I discuss their mindless mouthings.”
“Then we will talk only of facts.” Enge’s movements were grim, implacable and inescapable. “There is a fact known to us both. Peleinè divided the ranks of the Daughters with her doubts and her arguments. She convinced many that your cause was a just one, and these misguided ones swelled the ranks of your army. They went with you on your murderous campaign. They did not return.”
West of Eden Page 44