“There were just the three murgu,” Herilak said, then saw what Kerrick was carrying. “You have them! The death-sticks that we need. We must leave before more murgu come.”
“Not until we have done something about these bodies. The murgu would not use the death-sticks on each other. If these three are found they will that know someone from outside the city killed them.”
“Drag them into the swamp. Bury them.”
“They might be found.” Kerrick looked up at the mound beside them. “The death-sticks, the young are in there, very many of them. I remember we used to feed them meat from this wall.”
“There is meat here,” Herilak said crudely, pushing the dead Yilanè with his toe. “If these beasts eat fast the murgu who may come to look for them will find nothing.”
“Make sure you drop the bodies into the water at the deep end, so their bones won’t be seen. That’s all we can do.” He bent to pick up the guard’s hèsotsan, had to pry it from the Yilanè’s fingers. Herilak dragged the first body away.
Before they left Herilak searched the ground for any traces of what had happened, brushed away some tracks they had made. Moving quickly they left the city as they had entered it, past the nenitesk now peacefully grazing, to the safety of the forest beyond.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When they were once more back among the trees that surrounded the city Kerrick called out. “Wait.”
Herilak looked around warily, listened to the forest noises. “We should go on. It is not safe to stop this close.”
“We must take some time. Look.”
Herilak now saw that Kerrick’s arms and chest were scratched and bleeding where the death-sticks had dug at him with their claws. Kerrick dropped them into the grass and went to the water nearby to wash himself clean.
“You must find a better way to carry them,” Herilak said. “Are they poisonous when they can still move like this?”
“I don’t think so. One of them was chewing on my arm — so I hope they are not.”
“Their teeth are sharp, but they are not poisonous when old. I know, I have had my fingers bitten more than once feeding them. Put the meat from your bag into mine. Cut up the leather to tie them with. But do it quickly.”
Kerrick slashed his bag into ragged strips and tied them about the hèsotsan. Then he bound them into a bundle with the shoulder strap, leaving a loop of strap to carry them by. They went on again as soon as he was done.
Just before dark Herilak killed one of the little running murgu, but did not go near it, left it for Kerrick to butcher. They stayed apart, keeping the weapon he was carrying away from the ones they had captured. Kerrick cut up the still-warm corpse and fed bits of it to the hèsotsan. He and Herilak ate the dried meat, not wanting to light a fire so close to the city.
“I don’t want to go back to the city again,” Kerrick said as they settled down in the darkness.
“We won’t have to — if these death-sticks live. But now we know where to go if more of the creatures die.”
“The risk is too great.”
“No risk is too great — because without them we cannot live.”
In the morning they fed the immature hèsotsan more of the fresh meat, then went north at a steady pace along the track. The rains had ended and the sunlight filtered down through the tall trees, spreading bars of light across the ground.
The sunlight reflected off the crystal eye of the ugunkshaa, clearly revealing Ambalasei’s image as the memory-creature had recorded it. The sounds it made were weak but audible, her meaning clear.
“The river has many tributaries, two at least almost as large as the main stream. It obviously drains a major part of this continent. I intend to go as far upstream as it is navigable, taking water samples at measured daily intervals…”
The sounds of attention-to-speaking drowned out the small voice. Ukhereb turned one eye towards the entrance to see her assistant, Anatempè, standing there.
“What is it?” Ukhereb asked.
“Pain at interrupting meeting of scientific importance, but a fargi with message of singular gravity has arrived. The Eistaa wishes your/both presence.”
“Tell the creature to return with the communication that we attend.”
Anatempè left, but the two scientists did not follow her until they had silenced the ugunkshaa and placed it, and the recording creature, safely away.
“These discoveries — wonderful! Ambalasei is the greatest of the great,” Akotolp said, waddling towards the doorway. Ukhereb signed agreement.
“Even though she says it herself, often enough, I agree. There is none like her alive today. Should we paint our arms out of respect for the Eistaa?”
“Note of urgency obvious in message. Opinion that immediate presence takes priority over decoration.”
Lanefenuu was locked in silent thought when the two scientists entered the ambesed. She turned an eye in their direction, so she was well aware of their presence, but it was some while before she spoke.
“Intelligence/aid desired from Yilanè of science.”
“Command, we obey Eistaa.”
“I do not enjoy the new, do not like the inexplicable. Now there is a new event that displeases me greatly. Yesterday a working party was sent to bring hèsotsan from the growing pit. They did not return. This morning I have sent others to the pit, and among them was Intepelei who has some skill as a hunter. She is here. Listen to what she says.”
Intepelei, a grim and muscular Yilanè, her skin mud-streaked and covered with many small, bloody bite marks, stood close by with two wrapped bundles at her feet. She spoke in a crude but concise manner.
“There were signs of walking around the hèsotsan pit, bent grass, scuffed ground, clear prints of Yilanè feet in mud. Made yesterday. I searched and found nothing. Then I saw that many of the hèsotsan were feeding in the water and not at the spot where meat is left for them. I entered the water, drove them off, and found this. There are two others.”
She bent and picked up the smaller bundle and shook out a Yilanè skull. The scientists signed dismay and shock.
It grew worse. She unwrapped the other bundle to reveal an even more gruesome mass of flesh and bone.
“It is a Yilanè rib cage,” Akotolp said. “Flesh still adheres, tendons and muscle attachments are there.” She poked it with her thumb. “Recently dead, not an ancient body.”
“Could she have been alive yesterday?” Lanefenuu asked.
“Yes, certainly,” she said with modifiers of horror of discovery.
“I feel as you do. Horror and curiosity of reason as well. What happened? Did they fall in? Were they alive or dead when they entered the water? And when I thought of this I remembered the number three. And three hunters who left this city once and never returned. They were searched for but never found. Three and three — and one. The one is the Yilanè who came to this city and seized a male from the sea and who died. Three and three and one. Now I speak to you, Akotolp, and you, Ukhereb, Yilanè of science. Three strange things have happened, three things without explanation and I am not pleased. Now I want you to tell me — are they related? Is there a common factor with three and three and one?”
Ukhereb hesitated, trying to make an evaluation. Akotolp shook the fat wattles of her neck and spoke with feeling. “Common factor. Death of three and one, possibility of death of three. Perhaps certainty, or three would have returned. Death outside our city, coming into our city. Not death from the inside. Facts needed. Birds to fly again.”
“The birds that were used to watch the fleeing ustuzou?”
“Those, Eistaa. They have not been used for a long time. There was boredom of looking at pictures of trees and beach.”