Stallan came one evening when she was there, bringing newly arrived pictures that she wanted to compare with the physical record. Vaintè seized the pictures eagerly, examining them as well as she could in the failing light. Though there was never any spoken agreement, once Stallan had discovered that Vaintè was there at this time of day, she herself came most days bringing new pictures of the ustuzou movements. In this way Vaintè knew as much as any other in the city about the creatures she had sworn to destroy.
Whenever there were new pictures of the valley ustuzou in the south she examined them closely; she was not surprised when one day the skin shelters and large beasts were gone. Kerrick was not waiting for her return. He was gone. But he would appear again, she was sure of that.
All that long summer she studied the model, kept to herself — and waited. She followed the movements of the various packs, saw that one of the larger packs of ustuzou was moving steadily east. When this ustuzou pack actually left the shelter of the mountains and approached the ocean shore, she waited and said nothing. When they stopped, well within reach of attack from the sea, she still waited. Her patience must be the greater. Stallan reported worried talk among the Yilanè, with the ustuzou this close, anger as well that they were not attacked. Malsas‹ would hear this talk as well, would see the pictures, would have to do something. The pressure was upon her now, not Vaintè, and this fact enabled Vaintè to control her impatience. It was still a very hard thing to do. But she had everything to gain and little to lose. When the fargi came for her she concealed her elation in unmoving stolidity.
“A message, Vaintè, from the Eistaa.”
“Speak.”
“Your presence is needed at once in the ambesed.”
“Return. I come.”
Vaintè had given much thought to this moment, considered how long an interval to leave between the message and her departure. Not long; there was no need to anger Malsas‹ without reason. She had considered applying formal arm designs, but then had rejected the idea. There must be no obvious display. She simply took a few drops of scented oil on her palms, rubbed some into her crest so that it shone slightly, used the rest on her forearms and the backs of her hands. With that she was done. She left then and did not hurry, but she did take the shortest route to the ambesed. There, in the heart of the city, she had once sat as Eistaa. She returned now — as what? Penitent, supplicant? No, not those, she would die before she asked a favor. She went prepared to accept commands, to serve Alpèasak, nothing more. This decision was in every movement of her body as she walked.
The ambesed was larger now, with all of Inegban* come to swell the ranks of the city’s Yilanè. They stood in groups, talking, or milled about slowly from group to group. They were aware of her presence, moved casually to let her pass, but none caught her eye or gave her greetings. She was there — but not there until she had spoken with Malsas‹.
The group around the Eistaa opened a path for her as she approached, not appearing to see her, but stepping aside as though by chance. She ignored these half-insults, walking stolidly forward to stand before Malsas‹. Stallan was at the Eistaa’s side. The hunter looked at Vaintè and her palms colored in recognition. Vaintè returned the greeting, vowing silently to herself to remember the bravery of this simple act of recognition, when all the others had turned away. She stopped before Malsas‹, waiting silently until one eye moved in her direction.
“I am here, Eistaa.”
“Yes you are, Vaintè.” There was a blank neutrality in the statement, neither welcome or rejection. When Vaintè stayed in expectant silence Malsas‹ went on.
“There are ustuzou to the north, bold enough to approach the shore where they may be found and slain.”
“I know of this, Eistaa.”
“Do you also know that I have ordered Stallan to go there, to kill them?”
“I did not know that. But I do know that Stallan is the first killer of ustuzou and still the best.”
“I am pleased to hear you say that. But Stallan does not agree with you. She feels she is too unskilled to lead and be sarn’enoto in the pursuit of the ustuzou. Do you agree?”
The answer had to be phrased with exactitude. There was great danger here and no latitude for mistakes. When Vaintè began speaking there was sincerity in her movements, followed by firmness of intent.
“Stallan has great skill in the killing of ustuzou and we all learn from her. As to her ability to be sarn’enoto — that is not mine to judge. Only the Eistaa can raise a sarn’enoto up, only the Eistaa can set a sarn’enoto down.”
There, it was said. No rebellion, no attempt at argument or flattery, just a simple statement of fact. As always the decisions had to be made by the Eistaa. Others might advise; only she could decide.
Malsas‹ looked from one to the other while all those present watched in silence. Stallan stood solid as a tree as always, ready to obey the orders she was given. No one who saw her could believe she could ever disagree with the Eistaa. If she said she had not the ability to serve as sarn’enoto it was simply because she believed this to be true.
Nor was Vaintè rebelling against orders. She was here to receive them. Malsas‹ looked at them both and made her decision.
“The ustuzou must be destroyed. I am the Eistaa and I named Vaintè as sarn’enoto to bring about that destruction. How will you go about accomplishing that, sarn’enoto?”
Vaintè put all thoughts of victory from her, forced herself not to feel the jubilation rising up. Instead she signed simple acceptance of duty, then began to speak.
“All of the ustuzou now avoid the coast where others of their kind have been killed. But once a pack of them came and laid a trap for us. When I see this new pack on the shore I see this same trap again. This means that two things must be done. The trap avoided, the ustuzou trapped instead.”
“How will you go about this?”
“We will leave the city in two groups. Stallan will command the first which will proceed north in boats to attack the ustuzou in the same manner that we have done in the past. Her group will spend the night on the shore before the morning of the attack. I will take the second group in fast uruketo out to sea, out of sight of the shore. We will land to the north of the ustuzou and strike suddenly before they are aware of our presence.”
Malsas‹ signed understanding — but puzzlement as well. “That will rid us of the ustuzou pack, but what is to prevent other ustuzou, who may be in hiding, from attacking and killing Stallan and her fargi during the night, while they sleep on the beaches?”
“The Eistaa shows her wisdom in that most important question. When the ustazou watch Stallan’s landing on the shore they will see only meat and water unloaded. Not until after dark will these supplies be opened to reveal our new night weapons. After this has been done, the Yilanè who are proficient in this operation will board the night-trained boats. If the attack comes the boats will leave; only death will remain on the beach.”
Malsas‹ thought about this, then signed her agreement.
“Do it that way. It is a well-considered plan. I see that you have given much thought to this, Vaintè.”
There was a note of mild admonition in this, that Vaintè while still in doubt about her status, had already been making plans. But it was a very small comment, and a deserved one, and Vaintè did not object. She was sarn’enoto again — that was all that mattered. Still keeping her elation under control, she spoke as calmly as she could.
“There is something else about the force under Stallan’s command that I must tell you about. When we were developing the night weapons we found that there were only a few Yilanè who could operate in the dark, even with lights. It is these specialists who will release the weapons, then follow the light-markers to the boats. The rest of the fargi will have to remain on the shore. If there is an attack there is the strong possibility that all of them will be killed.”