esseka‹asak, elinaabele nefalaktus* tus’ilebtsan tus’toptsan. alaktus’tsan nindedei yilanènè.
When the wave breaks on the shore, small swimming things in it die, are eaten by the birds that fly, they are eaten by animals that run, Yilanè eat them all.
Lanefenuu had been Eistaa of Ikhalmenets for so many years that only the oldest of her associates could remember the previous eistaa; even fewer of these could recall her name. Lanefenuu was large in spirit as well as body — a head taller than most Yilanè — and as eistaa had wrought great physical changes to the city. The ambesed, where she now sat in the place of honor, had been constructed by her: the old ambesed continued its existence as a field of fruit trees. Here, in a natural bowl on the hillside above the city and the harbor, she had shaped an ambesed for her own pleasure. The morning sun fell full upon her raised seat of inlaid wood to the rear of the bowl, even while the rest was in shadow. Behind her, conforming to the natural curve of the land, were beautifully worked wooden panels, carved and painted so realistically that during the daylight hours there were always fargi pressed close and gazing in gape-jawed admiration. It was a seascape of dark blue waves and pale blue sky, enteesenat leaping high while the dark form of an uruketo stretched from one end to the other, almost life-size. At the top of the high fin a figure had been carved, the replica of the uruketo’s commander, which bore more than a chance resemblance to the Eistaa seated below it. Lanefenuu had commanded an uruketo before rising to the eminence of her present position, still commanded one in spirit. Her arms and the upper portion of her body were painted with patterns of breaking waves. Every morning Elililep, accompanied by another male to carry his brushes and pigments, was brought from the hanalè in a shrouded palanquin to trace the designs. It was obvious to Lanefenuu that males were more sensitive and artistic: it was also good to take a male every morning. Elililep’s brush-carrier was made to satisfy her, for Elililep himself was too valuable to end up on the beaches. It was Lanefenuu’s firm belief — though she never mentioned it to Ukhereb knowing that the scientist would sneer — that this daily sexual satisfaction was the reason for her continued longevity.
This day she was feeling her years. The wintry sunlight did not warm her and only the body heat of the living cloak wrapped around her kept her from sinking into a comatose sleep. And now she had added to all her other worries the burden of despair that the newly arrived commander had placed upon her. Alpèasak the jewel to the west, the hope of her own city, gone. Destroyed by crazed ustuzou — if Erafnais could be believed. Yet she must be believed for this was no second or thirdhand report passed on by yileibe fargi. Erafnais, who commanded an uruketo, the supreme responsibility, had been there, had seen with her own eyes. And the other survivor, Vaintè, she who had grown the city and had witnessed its destruction. She would know more about what had happened than the commander, who had been in her uruketo the entire time. Lanefenuu shifted on her seat and signed for attention. Muruspe, the aide who never left her side, moved quickly forward, ready for instruction.
“Muruspe, I wish to see the newcomer called Vaintè who arrived on the uruketo this day. Bring her to me.”
Muruspe signed instant obedience and hurried to the attendant fargi and repeated Lanefenuu’s message precisely. When she asked them to speak it back to her some of them fumbled, bad memory or weakness in speech, it did not matter. She sent these away, shame-of-failure hurrying them from sight, then made the rest repeat the Eistaa’s command until they all had it right.
Out of the ambesed they went in all directions, hurrying with pride as they bore their Eistaa’s message. Each one they asked spread the word even further through the city until, within a very short length of time, one of Ukhereb’s assistants hurried into her presence signing information-of-great-importance.
“The Eistaa has sent word through the city. The presence of your guest Vaintè is required.”
“I go,” Vaintè said, standing. “Lead me there.”
Ukhereb waved her assistant away. “I will take you Vaintè. It is more appropriate. The Eistaa and I labor together for the cause of Ikhalmenets — and I fear I know what she wishes to discuss with you. My place is there at her side.”
The ambesed was as empty as though it were night, not clouded day. The milling fargi had been driven away and now minor officials and their assistants stood at all the entrances to prevent their return. Facing outward to assure the Eistaa’s privacy. Lanefenuu’s rule was firm, this was her city, and if she preferred the privacy of the entire ambesed rather than that of a small chamber, why then that was what she had. Vaintè admired the erect strength of the tall, stern figure sitting against the painted carvings, felt at once that she was with an equal.
Vaintè’s feelings were in the firmness of her pace as she came forward, not following but walking beside Ukhereb, and Lanefenuu found great interest in this, for none had approached her as an equal since the egg of time.
“You are Vaintè from Alpèasak just arrived. Tell me of your city.”
“It has been destroyed.” Movements of pain and death. “By ustuzou.” Qualifiers that multiplied the earlier statements manifold.
“Tell me everything you know, in greatest detail, starting from the beginning, and leave nothing out for I want to know why and how this came about.”
Vaintè stood legs widespread and straight and was long in the telling. Lanefenuu did not stir or react all of that time, although Ukhereb was moved to pained motions and small cries more than once. If Vaintè was less than frank about some of her relationships with the ustuzou captive, particularly in the matter of the new thing called lies, this was only an error of omission and the story was a long one. She also left out all references to the Daughters of Death as not being relevant, to be discussed at some future time. Now she told simply and straightforwardly how she had built the city, how the ustuzou had killed the males on the birth-beaches, how she had defended the city against the enemy from without and had been forced into peaceful aggression in that defense. If she stressed the creatures’ implacable hatred of Yilanè that was merely a fact. When she reached the end she controlled all of her feelings as she described the final destructions and death, the flight of the few survivors. Then she was finished, but the position of her arms suggested that there was more to be spoken of.
“What more can be added to these terrors?” Lanefenuu asked, speaking for the first time.
“Two things. It is important that I tell you in private of others who left the city, are even now on the shores of Entoban*. This is a most serious yet completely separate matter.”
“And the second item of importance?”
“Relevant!” She spoke this loudly with modifiers of great urgency, strength and utmost certainty. “Relevant to all that I have told you. Now I know how to defend a city against the fire. Now I know how to destroy ustuzou in great numbers. Now I know what was done wrong by those who died that we could have that knowledge. Now I know that Yilanè are destined for Gendasi, the empty lands across the sea. This is a thing that must happen. Not since the egg of time have such cold winds blown as th6se that are blowing now, destroying Yilanè cities to the north of us. No one knows where this will stop. There is Eregtpe, with dead leaves the only thing stirring in the streets. There is Soromset with Yilanè bones white in the white dust. There is my city of Inegban that would have died in Entoban* but went instead to Gendasi to live. And now I feel the cold winds blowing through sea-girt Ikhalmenets and I fear for all here. Will the cold come here? That I do not know. But I do know this, strong Lanefenuu. If it does and Ikhalmenets is to live, it must live in Gendasi for there is no other place to go.”