“There has been failure and death, Vaintè, failure and death.”
Vaintè shaped her limbs into respect to superiority as she spoke. “Death, agreed, Eistaa. Good Yilanè have died. But there has been no failure. The attack continues.”
Lanefenuu angered at once. “You do not call the destruction of an entire force a failure?”
“I do not. In this world it is eat or be eaten, Eistaa, you of all Yilanè know that. We have been bitten by the ustuzou — but we live on to consume them alive. I told you that they were a dangerous enemy and I never said that there would not be losses.”
“You indeed told me that. But you neglected then to put a number to the Yilanè corpses, to give me a count of the tarakast and uruktop dead. I am very displeased, Vaintè.”
“I bow before your wrath, strong Lanefenuu. Everything that you say is correct. I neglected to give you a number for those who will die. I give it to you now, Eistaa.”
Vaintè threw her arms wide in the gesture of totality, speaking the name of this great city.
“Ikhalmenets will die, all will die, this will be a city of death. You are doomed.”
Lanefenuu’s advisers wailed in agony at the terror of her speech, followed her pointing finger to the great mountain, the extinct volcano that soared above the island, seeing but not wanting to see the snow that glistened there.
“Winter is coming, Eistaa, winter without end. Each winter the snow is lower on the mountain. One day soon it will reach this city and never melt again. All who remain here will die.”
“You speak above yourself,” Lanefenuu cried out, jumping to her feet with a gesture of great anger.
“I speak only the truth, great Lanefenuu, Eistaa of Ikhalmenets, leader of her Yilanè. Death comes. Ikhalmenets must go to the land of Gendasi before that disaster happens. I labor only to save this city. Like you I sorrow at the death of our sisters and our beasts. But some must fall so that all may live.”
“Why? We have Alpèasak. Your reports tell me that it grows well and soon Ikhalmenets will be able to go to Alpèasak. If that is so — what need for all these deaths?”
“The need is to destroy the ustuzou. There must be a final solution to their threat. As long as they live they are a danger. You will remember that once they destroyed and occupied Alpèasak. That must never happen again.”
Anger still shaped Lanefenuu’s body. Yet she carefully considered what Vaintè had said before she spoke. Akotolp took advantage of the momentary silence to step forward.
“Great Lanefenuu, Eistaa of sea-girt Ikhalmenets, may I speak to you of what has been accomplished, what still remains to be done to bring Ikhalmenets to Entoban*?”
Lanefenuu grew angry at the interruption, then stilled her feelings as she realized that anger would accomplish nothing this day. Vaintè did not tremble with fear before her as the others did — nor did this fat Yilanè of science. She sat back and signed Akotolp to speak.
“There are only so many ways for an animal to attack, for a disease to kill. After each infection a good scientist determines the cause and finds the remedy. Once used, any particular attack on us will never succeed again. The ustuzou burnt our city — so now we grow cities that cannot be burned. The ustuzou attacked us at night in the concealment of darkness. Strong lights now reveal them, our darts and vines kill them.”
Lanefenuu rejected past successes with a gesture of disdain. “It is not a history lesson that I need but a victory.”
“You will have that, Eistaa, for it is inevitable. Attack and flee, bite and run is the bestial ustuzou way. Slow growth, inevitable success is the Yilanè.”
“Too slow!”
“Fast enough with victory inevitable.”
“I see no victories in the deaths of my Yilanè.”
“We learn. It will not happen again.”
“What have you learned? I know only that surrounded by impassable defenses they died, all of them.”
Akotolp signed agreement — but added strength-of-intelligence as well. “Stupid fargi may panic and run and talk of ustuzou of invisibility. That is the talk of ignorance. Science holds no secrets that cannot be unearthed through diligence and application. What an ustuzou can do, I can fathom. I made an examination, then used trained beasts with keen noses to track the ustuzou. I found where they had approached the laager, discovered the route they had used when they left.”
The Eistaa was intrigued and paying close attention, her anger forgotten for the moment. Vaintè knew just what Akotolp was doing and was grateful.
“You found how they came, how they left,” Lanefenuu said. “But how did they attack and kill — did you discover that?”
“Of course, Eistaa, for bestial ustuzou must always fall before Yilanè science. The ustuzou observed that our forces always made laager in the same places. So, before the attacking force arrived, they burrowed like the animals they are into the ground and lay in wait. How simple. They did not come to us — we went to them. During the darkness of night they burst out and killed.”
Lanefenuu was astonished. “They did that? They have that intelligence? So simple — yet so deadly.”
“They have a bestial intelligence that we must never underestimate. Nor will this manner of attack ever succeed again. Our forces will stop at night in different locations. They will have creatures with them to smell out and discover hidden enemy, hidden entrances and burrows.”
Lanefenuu had forgotten her anger as she listened, and Vaintè took advantage of her improved mood.
“The time has come, Eistaa, to turn our backs on the snowy mountain and look instead at the golden beaches. Alpèasak has been cleared not only of the ustuzou but of all the deadly growths that drove them out. The defenses have been regrown and resown with plants that cannot burn. The ustuzou have retreated a great distance and between them and the city are our forces. The time is upon us to return to Alpèasak. It will be a Yilanè city once again.”
Lanefenuu was on her feet at this welcome news, raking her claws victoriously into the ground. “Then we leave, we are safe!”
Vaintè lifted both rose-hued restraining palms. “It is the beginning — but not yet the end. Aid is needed to make the city secure, to assist its growth. But there is not yet food enough for the multitude of a city. But it is a beginning. You can send one uruketo of Yilanè and skilled fargi, two at most.”
“A few drops where I wished for an ocean,” Lanefenuu said with some bitterness. “Let it be so. But what of the ustuzou, what of them?”
“Consider them dead, Eistaa, put them from your thoughts. Akotolp needs some supplies, I will have more fargi. Then we leave. There will be no final clash of arms but rather a slow and inevitable tightening as a great serpent tightens about its victim. Though the victim may struggle — the end is unescapable. When I come to you next it will be to report this final victory.”
Lanefenuu sat back and chewed on this concept, her conical teeth grinding lightly in echo of her thoughts. Everything was taking too long, too many were dead. But was there another way? Who could replace Vaintè? No one — that was an easy question to answer. No one else had her knowledge of the ustuzou. Or her hatred. She made mistakes, but they were not fatal mistakes. The ustuzou must be pursued and destroyed, she was convinced of that now. They were too poisonous to be allowed to live. Vaintè would accomplish that destruction. As her left eye looked at Vaintè her right eye rolled slowly up to look at the snow-topped mountain peak.
This winter was the first time ever that the deadly white had reached all the way down to the edge of the green trees. They must leave before it reached the city itself. There was no choice.
“Go, Vaintè,” she ordered, signing her dismissal. “Take what you need and pursue the ustuzou. I do not wish to see you again until you bring me word of their destruction.” Then her anger burst out again. “If they are not dead you will die in their place, that I pledge. Do you understand me?”