“In her sixth principle Ugunenapsa teaches us that there is an order of interdependence within and sustaining all living things, an Order that is more than those living things themselves, but also an Order in which all living things participate, knowing or unknowingly — an Order that has existed since the Egg of Time!”
Ambalasei signed lack of necessity. “We did not need your Ugunenapsa to tell us that. It is a simple description of ecology—”
“Seven!” Enge said with enthusiasm so great that she did not even realize that Ambalasei had spoken. “Daughters of Life are enabled and obligated, by the recognition and understanding of that Order and in loyalty to the Spirit of Life, to live for peace and the affirmation of life. Therein lies the solution to the problem of the city.”
“It certainly does and it took you long enough to get around to it. Are you telling me that your Daughters who agree with Ugunenapsa’s arguments and words will now feel that they must work peacefully together in cooperative harmony to affirm life?”
“That is what we believe, what we know — what we will do! Just as we follow the eighth and last principle…”
“Spare me that at least. Save it as a pleasure for me to enjoy some day when I am jaded and in need of inspiration. Better for you to explain to me how obedience to the seventh commandment will save this city.”
“I will take you and show you. When we understood how Ugunenapsa was guiding us we sought ways to show our appreciation. All now wish to work in the city of life and hurry to volunteer. Those with the most talents, such as fishing or horticulture, lead the way. They seek your guidance in matters they are not sure of and celebrate your safe return.”
Ambalasei straightened up and walked the length of the dock, then back. The evening breeze was cooler and it would soon be time to sleep. She turned to Enge and held up her clasped thumbs to indicate that an important question was held between them.
“All of this pleases me, as you correctly said. Though I will be pleased even more when I see the system in operation. But has Ugunenapsa in her wisdom revealed to you the answer to the other vital question that I asked you?”
It was Enge’s turn to sign a worried negative. “If she only could. The pleasure I have gained in the salvation of the city is lost in the reality that I see no salvation for the Daughters of Life. We will remain here, studying Ugunenapsa’s wisdom, and grow old in our studies.”
“Grow old and die and that will be the end of everything.”
“Everything,” Enge echoed in tones and overtones dark as death itself. She shook herself as though a cold wind had brushed her, held out her hands and willed them to turn from the dark green of grief to a roseate color of hope. “Yet I will not stop searching for an answer to this. One must exist. It is my own inferior inability to recognize it that is the problem. You do think that there is an answer, don’t you, great Ambalasei?”
Ambalasei did not speak. That was kindest. She turned away and directed her attention to the water and sky. But the failing light made her think of death.
Death was something that Vaintè never considered. Nor life either. She just existed. Catching fish when she grew hungry, drinking at the spring when thirsty. It was a mindless and empty existence which suited her now. Occasionally when she did think of the things that had happened she grew restless and uncomfortable and clashed her teeth together in the grip of strong emotions. She did not like that.
It was better not to dwell on such disturbing matters, best not to think at all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Fanasso to tundri hugalatta, ensi to tharmanni — foa er suas tharm, so et hola likiz modia.
Keep your gaze on the forest and not on the stars — or you may catch sight of your own tharm up there.
Kerrick called a halt when the heat under the trees became oppressive.
“It is too early to stop,” Harl said, making no attempt to conceal his disagreement with the decision. This was his sixteenth summer and he was more of a hunter now, less of a boy.
“For you, perhaps. But the rest of us will stay here during the heat of the day, go on when it is cooler. If the strong hunter does not wish to rest he can scout the track ahead. Perhaps his spear can find fresh meat.”
Harl happily dropped the poles of his travois and stretched his tired back. As he seized up his spear again Kerrick stopped him.
“Take the death-stick as well.”
“It is not good for hunting.”
“It is good for killing murgu. Take it.”
Harl loped off silently down the trail and Kerrick turned to Armun who was seated, wearily, with her back to a tree.
“I should have stopped earlier,” he said.
“No, this is good. Unless I walk I will not get my strength back.” Darras, who had been carrying the baby, passed her down to her mother. Armun wore only a loose skin around her waist because of the heat, held the baby now to her breast. Arnwheet was not pleased by all this domesticity and lack of attention and he pulled at Kerrick’s arm.
“I want to go hunt with Harl. My spear thirsts to drink an animal’s blood.”
Kerrick smiled. “Big talk for small boy. You have been hearing too many of Ortnar’s hunting stories.” He glanced up as he said this, looked back under the trees and along the trail they had taken. It was empty. The lame hunter would be some time catching up with them for he moved very slowly. This march was going to be a long one. Kerrick took the smoked meat that Darras handed him, sat down beside her and began to eat. Arnwheet, hunting forgotten at the sight of food, sat next to him as well. They had almost finished when there was movement under the trees. Kerrick reached for his hèsotsan and Arnwheet laughed.
“It is only Ortnar. Do not shoot him.”
“I won’t. But my eyesight is not as keen as that of the mighty small hunter.”
Ortnar limped up slowly, dragging his dead leg, streaming with perspiration. Darras hurried to him with the water gourd and he drained it, then let himself slide down the bole of a tree until he sat on the ground. “You stop too early,” he said.
“Armun tires quickly. We will go on when it is cooler.”
“Keep your death-stick pointed towards me,” he said quietly. “There is something out there, it has been stalking me for some time now.”
“Come to me, Arnwheet,” Armun said quietly. “You too, Darras. Leave those things, move slowly.”
The girl trembled but did as she was told. Kerrick stepped to one side so he could see the forest wall without Ortnar being in the way.
There was a sudden crashing and the large dappled, green and white form hurtled through the undergrowth towards him.
When he raised his weapon the beast screamed fiercely through widespread jaws. Kerrick squeezed the hèsotsan but the marag did not stop. Squeezed again as it loomed over him, stepped back as it fell heavily, almost at his feet.
There was a quick movement in the air and Arnwheet’s little spear thudded into the carcass.
“Well done, great hunter,” Ortnar said, an unaccustomed smile on his lips. “You have killed it.”
Arnwheet came forward, more than a little afraid of the large creature, then bent and pulled his spear free. “What is it?”
“A marag.” Ortnar spat on the corpse. “See the teeth, a meat eater.”
“Then we will eat it, instead of it eating us!”
“They are no good, the flesh is poison.”
“Then I will cut off its tail.”
Ortnar smiled. “The tail alone is bigger than you. But take one of the claws from the hind foot. You can hang it around your neck next to your knife for all to see.”
“Will there be more of them?” Armun asked, taking up the baby and moving along the trail away from the corpse. It stank.