Yet she stayed on top of the fin, alone, until Ikhalmenets finally sank into the sea and was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
Es alithan hella, man fauka naudinzan. Tigil hammar ensi tharp i theisi darrami thurla.
If the deer go, the hunters follow. An arrow cannot kill a beast in the next valley.
Sanone did not approve of this kind of meeting. Among the Sasku they ordered things differently. It was the manduktos who labored with their minds and not their hands, who studied Kadair and his effect on this world, as well as other important things, it was they who met and considered and decided. When consideration and decision were needed. Not in this disorganized manner where anyone at all could give an opinion. Even women!
None of these thoughts showed on Sanone’s lined, dark face; his features were calm and unrevealing. He sat crosslegged by the fire, listened and observed but did not speak. Not yet. He had good reason to be here, though he was Sasku and not Tanu, and he could see the reason for his presence there behind the seated hunters, among the women. Malagen felt his eyes upon her and moved unhappily back into the darkness. Sanone’s expression did not change at the sight of her — though his nostrils did flare with annoyance when a horde of screaming children ran by and kicked sand upon him. He brushed it off and turned his attention to Herilak who rose to speak.
“Much has been done. Fresh poles have been cut for the travois, leather harnesses have been repaired. Meat has been smoked and is ready. I think all has been done that needs to be done. Speak if anything has been left unfinished.”
Merrith climbed to her feet, made insulting gestures at the hunters who tried to shout her down. As big as a hunter — as strong as one too — she had been on her own since Ulfadan’s death.
“You speak of leaving this valley of the Sasku. I speak of staying.”
The women behind her were silent, the hunters noisy in their disagreement. She waited until the shouts had died down, then spoke again. “Hunters you have mouths at the wrong end — when you talk it sounds like farts. We have good food here and there is good hunting in the hills. Why should we leave?”
Some of the women called out in agreement with this and the discussion became heated and confused. Sanone listened, expressionless, guarding his thoughts. Herilak waited until he saw that it would not end easily, then shouted them into silence. They obeyed since he had led them in war against the murgu and they had survived.
“This is not the place to discuss these things. Tanu does not kill Tanu. It is also true that Tanu cannot command Tanu. The hunters who wish to come when we leave will come. Those who wish to stay will stay.”
“Hunters only?” Merrith called out brazenly. “Is it that women no longer have a voice?”
Herilak controlled his temper and wished that one woman at least had lost hers. “A woman will talk to her hunter, they will decide what they must do. We are here now because those of us who wish to leave this valley must get all in readiness…”
“Well here is one who does not wish to leave,” Merrith said, standing and pushing her way through the crowd, then stopped to look back. “Unless I am not welcome to remain here. What do you say, Sanone, mandukto of the Sasku?”
They turned to Sanone now, with great interest. He raised his hands as high as his shoulders, palms outward, and spoke in accented but good Marbak. “Sasku and Tanu fought as one in the city on the shore, came to this valley and fought side by side again. The Tanu are welcome to stay, free to go. We are as brothers.”
“And sisters,” Merrith added brusquely. “This one is staying.” She turned her back and left.
If any of the other women felt as she did they kept their silence. They were free, as all Tanu are free, to live their lives just as they wished. If a sammadar displeased them they would go to a new sammad. But the bonds to a hunter who had fathered their children were not as easily broken. And the hunters yearned for the forests; they could not be prevented from leaving.
The discussion went on for a long time. The fires died down and children fell asleep. Sanone waited patiently and when it was time he rose to his feet.
“I am here because of two matters — may I speak?”
“Do not ask,” Herilak said firmly. “The bonds of battle tie us close.”
“Then I have a request. The mastodon who was born here, that is named Arnwheet and through which Kadair speaks to us. Is it clear that this mastodon will stay when you leave?”
“This was never in doubt.”
“Then we are grateful. Now, the other matter. There is one here who is not Tanu but Sasku. Malagen the woman of the brave warrior called Simamacho…
“Who is now dead,” Newasfar called out angrily. Sanone nodded solemn agreement.
“Who now is dead, killed in the battle against the murgu. But his woman Malagen lives and she is Sasku.”
“She is my woman now and that is all there is to it,” Newasfar said, strjding forward, fists clenched. “She goes with me.”
“I thought that among the Tanu each decided for oneself. Yet you speak for Malagen?” Sanone looked up at the tall hunter out of slitted eyes, did not move. Newasfar trembled with anger. Herilak took him by the arm, spoke quietly.
“A hunter has respect for age. Sit with the others.” He waited until Newasfar had turned grumbling away before he pointed at the Sasku woman. “Do you wish to speak, Malagen?”
She gave him one horrified glance, then hid her face in her arms. Herilak did not want this to go any further and cause trouble. The woman would not say anything for that was the Sasku way. But he knew that she wanted to leave with Newasfar. He also knew that Sanone was watching him, waiting for an answer to his question. There could be only one.
“I see no problem here. For is it not just as Sanone said, that the Sasku and Tanu fought as one in the city on the shore, then came to this valley where they fought side by side again? He has said, in his generosity, that the Tanu are welcome to stay here, free to go. We are as brothers — and sisters too — of course. We Tanu can say no less. Malagen may come with us if she so wishes.”
If Sanone felt that he had been defeated by his own words he gave no sign, merely lifted his hand in acceptance, stood and left. Herilak looked at his retreating back and hoped that there would be no unhappiness, no difficulties now. They had fought together in war: they must part in peace. He turned to the sammads again.
“We will leave in the morning. Do we agree upon the way we go? It is too cold to the north and no need to retrace the snow route across the mountains. I say we go east, the way we came, until we reach the great sea. Other decisions can be made then.”
“There is the great river that must be crossed,” Fraken complained. He was old and frail now and felt that his knowledge was not respected any more. Few even cared what he said when he explored the owl pellets for a glimpse of the future.
“We have crossed the river before, alladjex. Rafts will be made, the mastodon swim it easily at the place where it is narrow. It will not be a problem. Do others wish to speak? Let it be that way then. We leave in the morning.”
As always when the sammads trekked the mastodons, screeching in protest at the restriction of their freedom, were loaded and harnessed before dawn. When the sun rose all was in readiness. Herilak stood aside to watch the first of them leave, the trail was a familiar one and there was no precedence or command among the sammadars. He felt a great relief when he saw that Sanone was among the watching Sasku. He went to him and took him by the shoulder.
“We will meet again, my friend.”
Sanone shook his head in a solemn no. “I do not think so, my friend. I am no longer young and I do not wish to leave this valley again. I have obeyed Kadair’s commands, have seen things that I never dreamed existed. And now I am tired. And you? I think that you will not come this way again either.”