ninlemeistaa halmutu eisteseklem.
Above the eistaa is only the sky.
The loud shouts woke Lanefenuu, sending her into an instant fury. The transparent disc in the wall of her sleeping chamber was barely lit; it must just be dawn. And who dared to make those sounds in her ambesed! It was the sound of attention-to-speaking, loud and arrogant. She was on her feet in the instant, tearing great gouges from the matted flooring with her claws as she stamped her way out of the chamber.
A single Yilanè stood in the center of the ambesed, of strange color, deformed. When she saw Lanefenuu appear she called out, muffled by her lack of tail.
“Lanefenuu, Eistaa of Ikhalmenets, step forward. I will talk with you.”
The insult of the form of address; Lanefenuu was roaring with rage. Sunlight spread across the ground and she stopped in her tracks, tail lifted with surprise. The Yilanè could speak — but it was no Yilanè.
“Ustuzou! Here?”
“I am Kerrick. Of great strength and great anger.”
Lanefenuu walked slowly forward, numb with disbelief. It was an ustuzou, pallid of skin, fur around its middle, fur on its head and face, empty-handed, glowing metal around its neck. The ustuzou Kerrick as Vaintè had described it.
“I have come with a warning,” the ustuzou said, arrogance and insult in its mode of address. Lanefenuu’s crest flared with her instant anger.
“Warning? To me? You ask only for death, ustuzou.”
She strode forward, menace in every movement, but stopped when he framed certainty-of-destruction.
“I bring only death and pain, Eistaa. The death is here already and more will come if you do not listen to that which I will tell you. Death doubled. Death twice.”
There was sudden motion at the ambesed entrance and they both looked at the hurrying Yilanè who appeared, mouth gaping wide with the heat of her rapid movements.
“Death,” the newcomer said, with the same controllers of urgency and strength that Kerrick had used. Lanefenuu was crushed back onto her tail, numbed by shock, silent while the Yilanè shaped what she had to say.
“Sent by Muruspe — urgency of message. The uruketo she commands — death. It is dead. Suddenly dead in the night. And another uruketo. Dead. Two dead.”
Lanefenuu’s cry of pain cut the air. She who had commanded an uruketo herself, who had spent her life with and for the great creatures, whose city boasted more and better uruketo than any other. Now. Two of them. Dead. She turned in pain, twisted by pain, to look at the great carving of the uruketo above her, of her likeness high on its fin. Two dead. What had the ustuzou said? She turned slowly to face the terrible creature.
“Two dead,” Kerrick said again with the grimmest of controllers. “Now we will talk, Eistaa.”
He signed instant-dismissal to the messenger, from highest to lowest and the Yilanè turned and hurried away. Even this presumption of power in her presence did not disturb Lanefenuu, could not penetrate the grief she felt at her irreplaceable loss.
“Who are you?” she asked, the question muffled by her pain. “What do you want here?”
“I am Kerrick-highest and I am Eistaa of all the Tanu whom you call ustuzou. I have brought you death. Now I will bring you life. It is I who commanded the killing of the uruketo. Those I order did this thing.”
“Why?”
“Why? You dare to ask why? You who have sent Vaintè to slaughter those I rule, to pursue them and kill them and keep on killing them. I will tell you why they were killed. One was killed to show you my strength, that I can reach wherever I wish, kill whatever or whoever I want. But the death of just one might have been thought to be an accident. Two dead is no accident. All could have died as easily. I did this thing so you would know who I am, what forces I command, so you will do what I will ask you to do.”
Lanefenuu’s roar of anger cut him off. She stumbled forward, thumbs outstretched and jaws agape, teeth ready. Kerrick did not move but instead spoke with insult and arrogance.
“Kill me and you will not die. Kill me and all of your uruketo will be dead. Is that what you want, Eistaa? The death of your uruketo and the death of your city? If you want that — then strike swiftly before you can think and change your mind.”
Lanefenuu trembled with her inner conflicts, accustomed to a lifetime of command, holding the power of life and death, taking orders from no one. That this ustuzou could speak to her in this manner! She was losing control.
Kerrick dare not step away from her or change the arrogance of his stance. A moment’s weakness on his part and she would strike. Perhaps he had pushed her too far — but he had had no choice. He shot a quick glance up at the hill above them. Nothing.
“There is something else I wish to tell you about, Eistaa,” he said. He must talk, keep her attention, not let her passions carry away her judgment. “Ikhalmenets is a great city, a jewel among Yilanè cities, sea-girt Ikhalmenets. You are Ikhalmenets and Ikhalmenets is you. Your responsibility and your reward. You rule here.”
He chanced another glance at the hill. There was a cloud above it — or was it a cloud? No. Smoke. And Lanefenuu was shuffling towards him. He shouted loudly to cut through her haze of anger.
“You are Ikhalmenets — and Ikhalmenets is about to be destroyed. Look behind you, up there, on that ridge. Do you see that cloud that is not a cloud? It is smoke. And you know what smoke is? Smoke comes from fire and fire burns and destroys. Fire burnt Alpèasak, killed all there. You know about that. Now I have brought fire to Ikhalmenets.”
Lanefenuu turned, looked, wailed in agony. Smoke burst up from the ridge, climbing high in roiling clouds. Kerrick called for attention to speaking and she looked at him with one eye, the other still staring at the smoke.
“I have not come alone to your sea-girt Ikhalmenets, Eistaa. My forces have killed your uruketo while I was making my way to the ambesed. My forces now surround you on all sides — and they are masters of fire as you know. They have fire ready and wait my signal. If I give it — Ikhalmenets burns. If I am injured in any way — Ikhalmenets burns. So choose, and quickly, for the fire is greedy.”
Lanefenuu’s cry of rage turned to one of pain. She was defeated, slumping back on her tail, forearms hanging. Her city and all her uruketo must come first. The death of this creature was not important. Ikhalmenets was.
“What is it you wish?” she asked. Not humbled, but weak in defeat.
“I want for mine only what you want for yours, Eistaa. Continued existence. You have driven us from Alpèasak. You and your Yilanè and fargi will stay there for it is a Yilanè city. None will harm you there. I see the snow on the mountain above us, snow that is lower every year. Before the snow reaches you Ikhalmenets will go to Alpèasak and be safe there under a warmer sun. Ikhalmenets will live there.
“But my ustuzou must live safe as well. Even now Vaintè acts under your command, pursues and kills them. You must order her back, order her to return, order her to cease killing. Do that and Ikhalmenets lives. We do not want what you have. You will keep your city. We ask only for our lives. You must stop Vaintè. You will do that and Ikhalmenets and all of your uruketo will live in tomorrow’s tomorrow as they lived in yesterday’s yesterday.”
For a long period Lanefenuu did not move, sat slumped in silence, fighting to find a way through her maze of conflicting thoughts. Finally, when she stirred, some strength returned and she spoke with the voice of authority once again.
“It will be done. Vaintè will be stopped. There was never a need for her to attack across your world of ustuzou. She will be recalled. You will leave. You will stay in your place and we will stay in ours. I do not wish to talk to you or to see you ever again. I wish that your egg had been stepped upon and that you had never emerged.”