“They will hide, they will go north into the frozen lands where we cannot follow. I wish it could be done in that way. But I am afraid that it cannot. An army of fargi, a sweep across the country. An end to this menace.”
“What do you say, Stallan?” Malsas‹ said, turning to the stolid, silent hunter. “You are our killer of ustuzou. Will this plan do what Vaintè says it will do? Shall we attempt it?”
Stallan looked at the immense model, ordering her thoughts so that she could speak them clearly.
“If there is a trumal the ustuzou will die. I do not know if enough force can be gathered together to do it. I do not rule so I cannot say. What I can say is that if the force is strong enough then the trumal will succeed.”
There was silence then as Malsas‹ weighed everything that had been said while the others waited. When she finally spoke it was a command.
“Trumal, sarn’enoto. Destroy the ustuzou.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Excuse the interruption of one so hard-working and important by one of little consequence,” Krunat said, hesitating as she approached Vaintè. Vaintè was standing before the model of Gendasi, concentrating and preoccupied, with the coming attack filling her thoughts. Her greeting was an automatic acknowledgment and it took a moment for her to place the intruder. They had met before, yes, this was Krunat, she had taken over from Sokain in the design of the expansion of the city. It was her assistants who had built this model of Gendasi, and Krunat had helped in the planning. Now she stood before Vaintè, humble as the lowest fargi. She was an excellent designer although she had too low an opinion of her own worth. With an effort Vaintè drew her thoughts away from the campaign plan and forced warmth into her speaking, despite her annoyance at the interruption.
“It is always an honor to speak with Krunat. How may I help you?”
Krunat shuffled the pictures she had brought, humility in every movement of her body.
“First, gratitude of the greatest order, Vaintè, for your development of the bird-picture technique. It has been of the greatest importance in city planning and expansion. My gratitude is endless.”
Vaintè permitted herself only a brief sign of acceptance since she did not wish her growing impatience to show. Krunat went slowly through the pictures as she talked.
“To the north of Alpèasak there are pine forests, but the soil is poor and sandy. I have been considering extension of canals to bring water to the area, perhaps the creation of wallows for some of the larger food-beasts. So there have been many pictures made of this area, all of course of no interest to you. Except, perhaps, this one. It could be of little worth, but we are interested in the native life forms for possible exploitation, so I had this one enlarged…”
Vaintè’s irritation was so great that she dared not speak, but some of her feelings seeped through when she tore the picture roughly from Krunat’s thumbs; the designer cringed back.
A single glance changed Vaintè’s manner completely. “Good Krunat,” she said warmly, “you were right to bring this to me. Can you point out the place on this model where the picture was made?”
As Krunat turned to the model Vaintè examined the picture again. An ustuzou, there could be no doubt, carrying a stone-pointed stick in one paw. This fool had stumbled upon something of importance.
“Here, Vaintè, it is near here that the site of the picture is located.”
So close! It was just an ustuzou, an animal, but its presence so far south was annoying. Even worrying. There might be others with it. Yilanè had been murdered before by these creatures near the city. She signaled a fargi to her.
“Bring the hunter Stallari here at once. And for you, wise Krunat, my thanks and the thanks of Alpèasak. This creature is up to no good and it will be taken care of.”
Stallan was as concerned by the picture as Vaintè had been. “Is this the only picture?”
“Yes, I went through them all before Krunat took them away.”
“The picture is at least two days old,” Stallan said, then pointed to the model. “If the ustuzou is still coming south it — or they — could be at this place by now. What are your orders, sarn’enoto?”
“Double the guards around the city. Be sure the alarms are functioning as they should. Then tell me what the terrain is like here. If these creatures are coming towards Alpèasak can you get in front of them, stop them?”
Stallan pointed her joined thumbs at the model, towards the wooded scrubland beyond the city. “Thorn bushes and thick brush here, almost impossible to get through unless the game trails are followed. I know these tracks well. Let the birds fly, the owls will be best, and find where the ustuzou are. When they have been located I will take my best hunters and lay a trap.”
“Do that.” Vaintè’s crest was erect, vibrating. “I think that Kerrick is out there. Only he would have the temerity to come this close to Alpèasak, to bring other ustuzou with him. Kill him for me, Stallan. Bring back his hide. Pin it with thorns to this wall where we can watch it dry.”
“Your wish is my wish, Vaintè. I want this death just as you do.”
“This is the last of the smoked meat,” Kerrick said, using a twig to clear the maggots from the hard lump. “A few of the hunters have ekkotaz left, not very much though.”
Herilak chewed firmly on his leathery fragment of meat, maggots and all. “There is game closer to the city. We’ll have fresh meat then.”
Even here, in the shade of the pine trees, the air was close and hot. Flies buzzed about their heads, landed in the corners of their eyes. It had been a long march, and a tiring one. Yet weary as the hunters were, there were no complaints. Only a few of them were visible beneath the trees, the rest out of sight. But Kerrick knew they were there in the forest, tough and ready. His only fear was that he was leading them to their certain deaths. He had this morbid thought more often now, the closer they came to the city.
“We march,” Herilak said, climbing to his feet and slinging his bow over his shoulder where it rested against the hèsotsan in its carrying bag. The big hunter felt more secure with his spear in his hand when they walked.
Kerrick signaled to the nearest hunter who passed on the order. The march began again with Herilak leading as he always did. They followed him across the rolling, brush-covered plain, then along the edge of a tree-hung swamp where stinging insects rose up in swarms. The swamp had its outlet here, through a gorge between low hills. Herilak slowed, nostrils flaring, then signaled a halt. When the command had been passed he walked over and sat by Kerrick under the shade of a willow at the water’s edge.
“Did you see the birds ahead? They circled the trees, then flew away without roosting.”
“No, Herilak, I never noticed.”
“You must notice everything in the forest if you wish to remain alive. Now smell, breathe in deep. What do you smell?”
“Swamp.” Kerrick smiled, but Herilak’s face remained grim.
“I smell them ahead. Don’t turn to look. Murgu.”
Kerrick felt his heart beat wildly and it took an effort of will not to turn his head. “You are sure?”
“There is no doubt.”
“What do we do?”
“Kill them before they kill us. Stay here. Wait until I send word, then go slowly into the valley. Keep your death-stick ready.”
“Do I go in there alone?”
“No. The Sasku will be with you. The hunters will be with me. They know how to stalk.”
Herilak slipped silently back along the trail, spoke quickly to the hunter sitting there. They both vanished among the trees. Soon after that Sanone appeared leading his spear-armed Sasku.