“We will eat all the meat we can first.”
“Yes, of course. Then go on in the afternoon.” Harl frowned at this, seemed displeased. “There is a good reason to wait. The murgu in the city do not move around at night. If they are near the death-stick pens they will leave in time to be well back inside the city by dark. If we reach there at dusk we can get the death-sticks and find our way out even if it is after nightfall. Can that be done?”
“If I see a track by day I can walk it by night. It shall be as you say, sammadar.”
By midafternoon, their leather garments still wet and cool against their skin, they penetrated the outer wall of the city. Kerrick went first, cutting and pushing aside the poisonous plants and thorns. Once past this barrier he whispered instructions to Harl who now led the way. Slower and slower, crawling the last distance to the earthen wall of the pen. Harl went on himself, then waved Kerrick forward.
“There is no one here, no tracks since the last rain.”
“I still want to stay out of sight until it is darker. We can use these vines to make nets to carry the death-sticks.”
It was near dusk when Harl pulled himself up onto the earthen wall, looked around and beckoned Kerrick forward. The hèsotsan were thick in the shallow water below and on the sandy bank. Kerrick threw clods down to chase the active ones away, then jumped down into the pit. There were hèsotsan close by on the sand, feebly moving their legs and unable to escape.
“These are the ones we want,” he said. “I’ll hand them up to you.”
He passed up as many as they could carry easily, then took Harl’s hand and pulled himself out. The hèsotsan hissed weakly when they were bound and tried to snap at their fingers. It was quickly done. They slung the bundled creatures over their shoulders and seized up their weapons.
“We have done it!” Kerrick said, already feeling the tension drain away. “Now — let’s get out of here.”
Harl led the way in an easy lope, back along the track they had followed when they had entered the city.
As he came around the end of the embankment there was the sharp crack of a hèsotsan and he collapsed. Dead before he hit the ground.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kerrick stopped, fell backward, huddled against the earthen wall. Harl lay crumpled just before him. His mouth hung open and his eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. The bundle of hèsotsan lay across his chest with the creatures writhing slowly against their bonds.
Harl was dead. Killed by a hèsotsan. A Yilanè, it had to be a Yilanè who was out there, lying in wait. It had been a neatly planned trap. There was no way out of it. If he moved or tried to retreat he would be exposed. He could not go forward — and there was no way back. The instant they saw him they would shoot: a marauding ustuzou would be killed on sight.
Then he had to be Yilanè again.
“Attention to speaking!” He called out. Then added, “Death… negative!” It did not make much sense, but he wanted those who were waiting out there to hesitate before they fired. He laid the bundle of hèsotsan aside, rose slowly to his feet — then stepped out of cover calling out loudly as he did, his arms and thumbs held in the form of submission.
“I am unarmed. Do not kill me,” he said as firmly and clearly as he could. His skin quivered, expecting the dart that would bring instant death. The Yilanè stood just ahead of him in the dense shrubbery. She had emerged from the shelter of the trees. Her hèsotsan was aimed directly at him. She appeared to be alone. All he could do was stand rigidly still, signing submission.
Intepelei looked at him, never moving her weapon. But she did not fire.
“You are the ustuzou who is yilanè. I know of you.”
“I am Kerrick who is Yilanè.”
“Then you must be the one who went to Ikhalmenets and killed the uruketo of our city. You are that one?”
Kerrick thought of lying; there was no point to it.
“I am.”
Intepelei signed pleasure of discovery — but still kept the hèsotsan aimed at his chest. “Then I must take you to Lanefenuu who has talked much of the ustuzou and her hatred for you. I think she wants to see you before you die. Did you kill the three Yilanè and put them into the pit with the hèsotsan?”
“I did not kill them.”
“But your kind of ustuzou did?”
“Yes.”
“It was my thought that this was the explanation of their deaths. No other agreed with me. I did what had to be done. I have had fargi hidden near this place ever since that day. Fargi instructed to come to me if any ustuzou pass. One came to me this day. Now we go to speak with Lanefenuu.”
“It is almost dark.”
“Then you will hurry. For if it grows dark before we reach the ambesed I will kill you. Move quickly.”
Kerrick stepped reluctantly forward, searching for a way out, finding none. This Yilanè was a hunter, he could tell that, knew he would be killed instantly if he tried to attack. She signed with her top thumbs as she stepped forward. Then shivered and almost fell.
The arrow made a thunking sound as it struck deep into her back.
She raised the hèsotsan, her hands shaking, pointing it towards Kerrick. It cracked once, the dart missed. She raised it higher.
The second arrow took her in the neck and she fell. Herilak ran silently up the path, looked down at the two bodies.
“I did not see the marag until it killed the boy. I did not have a clear shot until it moved into the track.”
“You followed us.”
“I did. I did not bring a death-stick but I followed you. There was a danger just the two of you alone. We must get rid of the bodies. Into the pit…”
“No, no need,” Kerrick said wearily. “I talked to that one before you killed her, you heard me. She had guards posted to watch this track. They told her that we were coming.”
“We must leave quickly!”
“No, she is a hunter, she came here alone. It is too dark now for others to follow her. But the watchers who saw us come and told her, they are in the city. Others will be here in the morning. We cannot hide the fact that we were here. They know now. I didn’t want any killing, I thought it would be better without you. But you followed anyway. We should bury Harl.”
‘Foolish, waste of time. His tharm is in the stars and he cares not for the meat left behind. I will cut out my arrows, we will take the death-sticks and leave. By morning when they come here we will be far down the track.”
Kerrick felt a great weariness. He knelt beside the dead boy and removed the bundle of hèsotsan. Then straightened Harl’s limbs and closed his eyes. He rose slowly to his feet.
“I killed him,” he said, bitterly. “I brought him here.”
“The marag killed him. We have new death-sticks. Leave him now — and leave all thought of him. He was young but he was a good hunter. I will take his spear and bow. Another boy who wishes to be a hunter will get great strength from them.”
Tbere was nothing more to say, nothing that could be said. They had the weapons. With the bundles slung across their shoulders they started north, were quickly out of sight. It grew dark under the trees and shadows stretched across the two bodies, so alien to each other, now united in the inescapable bond of death.
There were no large carrion eaters here within the city, so the corpses were undisturbed during the night. At dawn the crows found them. Landed hesitantly and hopped forward, very suspicious of the large and unexpected gift. They were beginning to tear at the flesh when loud shouts disturbed them and they flapped away. The first fargi, hèsotsan held hesitantly before them, approached down the path. They milled about, looked into the forest, searched further along the track. Only when Muruspe came up, she had been careful to lead them only from the rear, was any order restored. Anatempè stood beside her, signing shock and grief.