Kerrick could not think of an answer. This was too unexpected. He turned it over and over in his head, then reluctantly spoke.
“It is a great trust, but I do not feel I know enough to be sacripex. Yes, I know much about the murgu, but little about hunting and killing. Herilak is the proven leader here.”
They were silent then, waiting for him to continue. The sammads were looking to him for leadership and he could not refuse. Ortnar had heard what had been said and had emerged from the tent and joined the waiting hunters. They wanted him to lead, but he did not have the skill. What could be done? What would the Yilanè do in this situation? Once he had asked himself this question an answer began to appear.
“Let me tell you how the murgu order these things,” he said. “In their cities there is a sammadar who is first in everything. Under this sammadar there is a sammadar of the hunters, another for the food animals, and others for the different work of the city. Why do we not arrange things in the same way? Herilak will be the sacripex as you have asked. I will serve under him, advise him on the ways of the murgu. But he will be the one who decides what must be done.”
“We must think about this,” Ulfadan said. “It is a new thing.”
“These are new times,” Kellimans said. “We will do as Kerrick has told us.”
“We will do it,” Herilak said, “but it is I who will serve. Kerrick will tell us about the murgu and what must be done to hunt them and to kill them. He will be the margalus, the murgu-counsellor.”
Ulfadan nodded agreement and stood. “That is the way it must be.”
“I agree,” Kellimans said. “The hunters of the sammad will be told and if all are in agreement we will go south when the margalus says.”
When they had gone, Herilak turned to face Kerrick. “What must we do first, margalus?” he said.
Kerrick pulled at the strands of his thin beard while the two hunters waited. The answer to this was easy, and he hoped that all the other problems would be as simple to solve.
“To kill murgu you must learn about the death-sticks. We will do that now.”
Herilak and Ortnar were armed with spears and bows as always, but Kerrick put his aside and took up a hèsotsan and a supply of darts instead. He led them upstream away from the tents, to a clear space beside the river. The trunk of a dead tree lay trapped here among the boulders, where it had been left behind by the high waters of spring.
“We will shoot at that,” Kerrick said. “If anyone else comes near we will be able to see them. There is death in these darts and I want no one killed.”
The hunters put their spears and bows aside and reluctantly came close when Kerrick held out the hèsotsan.
“There is no danger yet, for I have not put darts into the creature. Let me first show you how to feed it and care for it. Then the darts will be inserted and we will use the tree for a target.”
The hunters were well used to working with tools and artifacts and soon stopped thinking of the weapon as a living creature. When Kerrick fired the first dart they jumped at the sharp crack of the explosion, then rushed to the tree to see the dart stuck there.
“Will it shoot as far as a bow?” Herilak asked. Kerrick thought about it, then shook his head no.
“I do not think so — but it does not matter. There will be no need to kill at a distance if the murgu attack us. When a creature is hit by a dart the poison affects it almost at once. First it falls down, then stiffens, then dies. Now you must learn to use the death-sticks.”
As he began to hand the weapon to Herilak he saw a movement in the sky behind him. A bird, a large one.
“Get your bows, quickly,” he said. “The raptor is here, the one that speaks to the murgu. It must not return. It must be killed.”
The hunters did not question his orders but seized up their bows and nocked the arrows, waiting until the bird swooped low. As it drifted over them on wide-stretched wings their bowstrings twanged at the same instant. The well-aimed arrows flashed upwards, both thudding into the raptor’s body.
It gave a single screech and tumbled from the air, splashing into the river.
“Don’t let it get carried away,” Kerrick called out.
He stopped to place the hèsotsan carefully on the ground, and before he could straighten up the other two had dived into the water. Ortnar was a strong swimmer and he reached the dead bird first, seizing it by the wing and spinning it about in the water. But it was too large for him to handle alone and he had to wait for Herilak to help him drag it ashore. They emerged from the river, their fur garments wet and streaming, pulling the immense bird after them, then letting it drop onto the sand.
“Look there,” Kerrick said, “on its leg, that black creature.”
The bird was dead, but this animal was not. Its claws were locked about the raptor’s leg. The thing was featureless except for a bulge on its side. Herilak squatted to look closer at the beast — then jumped back as the eye opened and looked up at him, then slowly closed again. He reached for his spear, but Kerrick stopped him.
“There will be plenty of time for that. First we must show this to the hunters, show them the eye that watches us and the bird that carries it. These are the beasts that tell the murgu where we are. Once the hunters have seen it they will recognize it again. Whenever one appears it must be killed. If the murgu do not know where we are they cannot attack us.”
“You are right, margalus,” Herilak said respectfully. “You are the one who knows about these creatures.”
Herilak had used the title easily and with sincerity. He had spoken it so naturally that Kerrick felt a sudden burst of pride. Perhaps he could not hunt as well as they, while his arrows usually missed their mark, but he knew about murgu and they did not. If he could not be respected for his hunting prowess, it was enough that he led in something. They seized up the bird and carried it back to the camp.
The raptor itself was a wonder, for no one had ever seen a bird that big before. They stretched its wings wide, then paced out their length. The hunters admired the placing of the arrows; both had hit home in the creature’s chest. The children crowded close and tried to touch it, but were pushed away. One of the women bent over and prodded the black creature on the bird’s leg — then screamed when the eye blinked at her. Then everyone had to see this happen and pressed around. Herilak bent and cut the arrows free, then returned Ortnar’s to him as they walked away.
“Now let us learn to shoot the death-stick as well as we can the bow,” he said.
By evening both hunters felt as secure with the weapon as did Kerrick. Ortnar fed the creature a scrap of dried meat from his pouch, then rubbed its mouth shut.
“This will never kill a deer on the hunt,” he said. “It is hard to aim and the darts fall short.”
“We can kill deer easily enough with spear or bow,” Herilak said. “We need these for the murgu when we go south.”
“Before we start the journey I want all of the hunters to know how to use these,” Kerrick said. “Only then do we leave.”
After they had washed in the river the smell of cooking drew them back to the tents. It was a clear night and the stars were crisp and sharp above the flickering lights of the fires. Merrith served them meat, and Fraken the alladjex was there as well. The old man went to a different fire every night where people spoke to him of the things that only he knew. He looked suspiciously now at Kerrick who appeared to have knowledge that he did not. Herilak saw the look and drew the old man’s attention away.