Vana got to her corner about thirty seconds later. She had a little more distance to cover than he did and was not as swift a runner. She placed the dart in her pipe but did not shoot at once. She had to get her wind back first.
The guard above her still hadn't seen her.
Deyv thrust the blowgun into its case and hauled himself up hand over hand, his feet braced against the rough bark. The guards were still yelling. The dogs seemed to have gone crazy.
Halfway up, he saw Vana drop the dart into her gun. When he reached the top of the stockade, he saw her lift the gun to her lips. Something whitish sped out from the pipe. He was too busy then to watch the aftermath.
His hands gripped the conical top of the log, and he pulled himself up and over. He rolled onto the platform but did not get up. The guards at the other comers might see him. Here, in the half-light under the roof, he might be unnoticed as long as he didn't silhouette himself.
He looked to his right. The guard there was visible only as a dim motionless bulk on the floor behind the railing. Vana had got him with her first shot. The poison of the striped hole-beetle had taken almost instant effect. The guard would have felt the sting of the sharpened point and would have whirled, startled. Before he could cry out a warning, his muscles would have been locked. A second or two later, he would have fallen. And now he would be close to death, his heart convulsing.
Deyv would have liked to raise his head to look over the wall. Vana, however, would be running toward his corner now. He'd been lucky enough that he wasn't seen when he'd come over the top.
The guard who'd left his post was in the middle of the village now. He was doing something with the
Yawtl. Ah! The prisoner had somehow gotten one arm loose; it flailed out for a moment. Now the guard had grabbed it again and was trying to tie it back to the dead man's wrist. The Yawtl had twisted his head around, and he'd bitten the guard on the nose.
Screaming, holding his nose, the guard backed away and fell backward over one of the dogs. The other two guards were coming down the ladders now to help.
Another lucky break. Deyv rose, crouching, and went quickly down the ladder. On the ground, he ran alongside the wall until he came opposite the shaman's hut Then he dashed down the lane between two rows of huts to the back side of his goal. It had no rear doorway, and the windows were too small for him to crawl through. Like it or not, he had to use the front entrance.
He spared a second to look up over the conical roofs. There was Vana, outlined vaguely against the light. Suddenly she was gone. She had come up the rope like a squirrel and was on her way. Wherever and whatever it was.
He raced around the shaman's house. He glimpsed the guard whose nose had been bitten. On his feet now, the man was surrounded by barking and snarling dogs. His spear was raised, butt first, ready to come down on the back of Yawtl's head. The other guards were almost to him.
The interior of the shaman's hut was dark, its only light feeble, coming from the two back windows and the doorway. He blundered around, feeling with his hands, tripped over something, and swore. He rose and began groping along the walls, thinking that if the bag of eggs was here it would be on a shelf. And then he almost cried out with exultation. His hand had closed on leather and within it were at least ten round objects which had to be the soul eggs. But he had to make sure.
He took the bag to the doorway, untied the leather thong, and brought out what he'd hoped for. Since he didn't want to take the time to search for and put on his own egg, though the temptation was almost overpowering, he put the egg back in the bag. Before running out, he paused to look the situation over.
It had changed unbelievably fast The guard about to hit the Yawtl over the head was down among the dogs. Deyv guessed that the prisoner had kicked backward into the man's stomach or crotch.
There went the Yawtl, somehow freed from his bonds. The fellow must be double-jointed or as slippery as a wet rock. Behind him came the two guards and close at their heels a pack of dogs. One man hurled a spear. Deyv couldn't see if it struck its target, but he didn't think so. The guards weren't shouting triumph, though it would have been hard to hear them over the uproar of the dogs.
Now those dogs that had been concerned with the fallen guard were chasing after the others. They left an open space in which Deyv could see the man. He was on his knees and holding his belly with both hands.
From the direction in which the Yawtl had run, Deyv guessed that he would make for the ladder of the sentinel Vana had shot. That was good. Their entrance route was open for an exit. But where was the woman?
No sooner thought of than she appeared. Panting, she stepped around the comer. Deyv came out of the doorway, grinning, holding up the bag. She squealed with delight and threw her arms around him. He turned his head so that she kissed him on the cheek, not the mouth. He couldn't help thinking, even in this triumph, that those lips had eaten human flesh.
She drew back and said, "Give me my egg!"
"As soon as we get out of here and away from the guards," he said. "We can't spare the time."
She looked hungrily at the bag, but she nodded. "Let's go, then!"
Without asking him which way they should take, she ran around the hut and back down the lane. He would have preferred going to the wall in which the gates were set and then along it back to the guard post. That way there would be less chance of encountering the guards or the dogs. It angered him a little that she hadn't waited for his decision, but there was nothing he could do about it. He went after her, his sword in hand. She still gripped her blowgun.
Before she reached the end of the lane, the Yawtl dashed in front of it. A moment later, some of the big yellow dogs raced barking after him. Then the two guards, and behind them more dogs.
Vana dodged into a house. But one or more of the canines at the rear must have caught her scent. A big brute stopped, whined, then dashed back, barking at the house she'd entered. Five dogs followed him; the others kept on the original chase.
Silently, Deyv sped up to the now-snarling beasts. Two were in the doorway, then one suddenly yelped and fell down. Vana must have shot it or struck it with her tomahawk. By then he was slashing at the three still outside. One died, its spine severed. Another staggered under a slash alongside its neck. The third whirled and bounced away, snarling, its teeth white, dripping saliva.
Deyv glanced sideways. The other dog in the doorway was also crumpled, and Vana was stepping out over the two bodies. Deyv charged the dog, which ran away, then stopped to face him again. Something small shot over and past him and ended in the dog's side. Its legs gave way under it, its eyes rolled up, and it was dying.
Deyv waited for Vana. He said, "Good shooting. But you've got only six darts left. Save two for the guards."
Vana said, pointing, "There they go again."
The Yawtl flashed by. Somewhere in his run he'd picked up a spear. Dogs bounded after him, then the two tribesmen. But one of them looked aside and saw the two strangers. His alarmed yell trailed after him down the lane.
From a house nearby a man, head hanging, crawled out.
"Some of them will be waking up," Deyv said. "Follow me!"
He ran between the houses to the right of the broad lane. Vana's feet thudded behind him. They broke out from the cluster and angled toward the comer guardhouse where Deyv had tied his rope. But the