“Ostuku closest to Saagakel. May I walk with you — or are you embarked on matters of great urgency?”
“Matters of importance but not urgency.”
“Then request of wisdom from one of greatest wisdom. With privacy of conversation.”
Ostuku considered this closely before she spoke. “The pleasure will be mine. There exists a garden grove of sunshine and shade where I take much comfort.”
“Gratitude magnified multifold.”
They strolled in silence to the grove which was indeed as Ostuku had said. Sunwarmed, ornately carved boards were there for sitting or reclining. Green grass and flowers surrounded the trunks of tall trees. They sought cool comfort in the shadows for the sun was getting high. When they were seated Vaintè went right to the point.
“I am in need of advice. I spoke to Fafnepto of my need and she said that your counsel was the wisest in the city — after the Eistaa’s of course. It is a matter of great delicacy. I understand that all have been forbidden to speak of it with the Eistaa in hearing. I have special knowledge I wish to report. May I talk to you?”
Ostuku had been listening in silence until this moment. She looked briefly around the empty grove, then back to Vaintè.
“Does it concern the Daughters of Life?”
“It does.”
Ostuku signed great worry, great distaste. “The Eistaa will not have them spoken of in her presence. But you and I may talk of them — if you assure me it is of the greatest importance.”
“It is. Fafnepto has information about them she wishes Saagakel to know. Since she has also been forbidden to talk of this matter I will speak for her. But there are some things I must know of first that will clarify what I must say. Will you help?”
“For the sake of the Eistaa I will help. It was a matter of greatest anger for us all.”
“I know that one named Ambalasei aided the escape of the prisoners that you had here. In an uruketo.”
“She did. I never suspected the old creature of such effrontery and trickery. Fooled me, fooled us all. The Eistaa will never forgive her.”
“Now the question. There were among the prisoners those who had but recently come to the city.”
“There were.”
“I must ask, although it was long ago. Do you remember their names?”
“Just one. An intelligent and strong Yilanè who had the courage to argue with the Eistaa. Bold but foolhardy. Her name was Enge.”
Vaintè writhed with anger and other strong emotions, so much so that Ostuku leaned away. Seeing this Vaintè apologized quickly.
“Lowest to highest, none of what I feel is directed at you. Rather do I know this Enge creature, know her far too well because we-were/ended-now efensele. This, and what Fafnepto has told me, comes together to form a possible answer. Knowledge/probability where Ambalasei and the uruketo have gone.”
Ostuku signed gratitude. “To Fafnepto for sending you to me, to you for speaking your thoughts clearly. If you have this knowledge then, despite the ban, you must tell Saagakel at once. You are the only one who can do it. Will you — although you risk the Eistaa’s anger?”
“For the kindness she and her city have shown me I would risk death.”
“Well said. Gratitude from all. This matter has troubled the Eistaa for too long. Gratitude magnified many times if you can aid her.”
“It will be done, this day. Request if possible to locate one with skill in painting for I must have arms of greatest importance before I speak.”
“I will send for one. It will be done this day.”
Saagakel, having seen to all the pressing matters of the city, leaned back on the sunwarmed wood and felt tired. Responsibility was no easy thing. She was aware of motion as those about her drew away and she looked and saw Vaintè slowly approaching. Her arms were painted and her body stiffened in signs of some importance/privacy of talking needed. Saagakel found this of great interest because it was the triviality of city affairs that fatigued her. She stirred and rose to her feet.
“I go to the pool in the trees where none will disturb me. Come with me Vaintè and we shall talk.”
When they were alone she took a slab of cool meat from the container, that always rested there in case of sudden hunger, bit into it and made the signs of sharing to Vaintè. Vaintè took a token ceremonial piece, chewed it slowly and swallowed before she spoke.
“I who was Eistaa, speak to you as Eistaa. We have both been made to suffer from the same source. I will speak of painful matters, but speak only because I see future termination of past difficulties. I would speak of the Daughters of Life whom I call the Daughters of Death. Will you hear me?”
Saagakel’s body writhed with anger, as did Vaintè’s in instant sympathy. There was hatred as well, and there can be no greater bond than hatred shared.
“Speak,” Saagakel commanded, “for I can see that we are as one in this. Tell me what you know — and what you can do. Rid me of the burden that possesses my days and you will clasp my right thumbs as highest in all things. Speak!”
Vaintè signed gratitude and submission. “I must tell you of things past that bear on things present. We are born into an efenburu. We do not choose it. I had an efensele whom I now reject. I wish her dead. Her name is Enge and she leads others in the Daughters of Death.”
“An Enge came to this city, was imprisoned by me for she talked sedition. She talked of it to a respected scientist of advanced years named Ambalasei. What she said turned her from the natural way. She freed all of those deadly creatures and took them from here in one of my uruketo. They have not been seen or found since that day.”
“Strong hunter Fafnepto talked to me of this, asked for any intelligence on the matter that I might have. We talked and with our joint knowledge concluded that facts of importance should be presented to you. I do that now because all others have been forbidden to speak of the matter.”
“With reason. Anger without object present destroys.”
“I know — for I have felt that way.
“Tell me all that you know.”
“The uruketo left here and has not been seen since. No city in Entoban* knows of it.”
“Then they are dead?”
“I think not. This Enge has been to Gendasi* and survived the destruction of Alpèasak. If she were not a Daughter of Death she has the ability to rule as an eistaa. It is my thought that she has taken the uruketo beyond your reach. For now.”
“To Entoban*? Is this possible?”
“Possible and probable. No city in Gendasi* would accept their cargo of death — and no city has seen them. But Entoban* is large, most of it unknown to us, warm and filled with good meat. She has gone there, your uruketo has gone there, the traitor Ambalasei has gone there. I have not seen this, know none who have seen this. But I feel it so strongly through my body as I say it that it must have happened in just that way.”
Saagakel could not be still; she walked the length of the clearing, then back. Her muscles knotted and moved, her jaw snapped so hard that her teeth clashed together, but she was unaware of it. “What can be done?” she called out loudly. “You have been thinking of this — what can be done?”
“A search must be made. I know the land of Entoban * well for I have tracked and pursued the killer-ustuzou there. And killed them. There are Yilanè of science present in Alpèasak who have ways of searching and finding. Until now they have only looked for ustuzou — but they can find Yilanè just as well.”
Saagakel was calmer now, drained by her fury. “I must think about this and make decisions. I am glad we talked, Vaintè, for I can now do something about the anger that is sealed within me. Go now and speak to Ostuku. Tell her to tell the others that in the morning we will discuss matters no longer forbidden. It will be like cleansing a wound, purifying it. We will, together, take action on this and there will be deaths. I was too kind.”