'Animals.' Duwan hissed, looking first at Jai and then at Tambol. 'You are animals.'
'Master,' Jai sobbed, 'what did I do to offend you?' Duwan slumped. 'The fault is mine,' he said.
'Master,' Jai said, 'is it that I do not eat enough of the green? Is it that I am not to taste the savory flesh of a Devourer sacrifice?'
'Tell me this new horror,' Duwan said, still tasting bitterness in his mouth.
'The sacrifice dinner is eaten at the change of the season,' Jai said, her sobs lessening as she saw Duwan grow calmer. 'It is in praise of the du of plenty, and if the sacrifice is not made, and the meal not eaten, untimely rains will rot the crops, or the sun will burn them, or the snows will come late and kill the tender shoots.'
Duwan looked in revulsion at the small forearm, now covered with dirt and small twigs after its roll along the ground.
'I had never had the opportunity to sample this sacred food, being pong,' Jai said. 'Did I do wrong?'
'The young one, pong or Devourer?' Duwan asked.
'Pong,' Jai said.
Duwan sighed, voiced an urgent prayer to Du in his mind, looked around as if he were just awakening. 'We need clothing,' he said. 'Jai, go into the hut and find something for yourself. Tambol, we will wear the garments of the enemy. You, female, bring me garments, for I will not reenter that place.'
Jai came back quickly and watched with approval as Duwan donned the blouse and kilt of the Enemy. She, herself, was reveling in luxury, as she tried the garments of the dead female. Tambol was standing by, waiting a chance to speak. When Duwan was fully dressed he saw that Tambol had done nothing. 'Why are you waiting?' Duwan asked.
'Master, if I may speak. We are in the area of settlement, and it is your stated intention to study the Devourer close at hand. You can pass for Devourer, but we—' He waved his hand at Jai, who was wrapping herself in a fur mantle. 'This one would not pass for Devourer. Her looks, her speech. Nor would I. If we are to go among the enemy we must go as pongs and master.'
Duwan nodded. 'You speak with wisdom, Tambol.'
'No, please,' Jai wailed.
'I will take the garments of one of these,' Tambol said, waving a hand toward the two pongs who still crouched near the fallen tall brother, awed and fearful. 'Female, if there are no pong garments for you, use a pong tunic from the other male there.'
'Master,' Jai wailed.
'One day you will have fine garments,' Duwan said, taking the fur mantle from Jai's shoulder.
Jai resigned herself. 'Master, if you are to be Devourer, your hair must be trimmed.'
'This is so,' Tambol said.
'How will this be done?' Duwan asked.
'I have some experience,' Jai said. She disappeared into the hut once more, came back with cutting instruments, seated Duwan on the stump of a tall brother and, for the first time in his life, Duwan felt his hair being severed. There was no pain, but he felt oddly light when it was finished and Jai held up a mirror for him to see a face that looked odd and strange without its mantle of fronds.
'Now you are a proper master,' Tambol said. 'All that is needed is this.' He handed Duwan the dead enemy's lash. 'It is, when not in use, worn coiled over the left shoulder.'
Duwan grimaced with distaste, but allowed Tambol to position the lash.
'Master, we are ready,' Jai said. She had dressed herself in an all-covering, robelike garment she'd found inside the hut. Tambol had taken the smock of one of the pong males and had, on Duwan's orders, sent the two pongs traveling toward the west, to join the free runners.
'There is one thing more,' Duwan said. He strode to the fallen Devourer, hoisted the body effortlessly and threw it into the hut. 'That,' he said, pointing toward the tiny, pathetic forearm that was being attacked by ground-crawling insects. Without hesitation, Tambol picked up the arm. 'Toss it inside, too,' Duwan ordered. Duwan forced himself to enter the stench of the hut once more. He took down a lamp, poured its oil over the heaped covers on the bed, drew a burning branch from the fireplace, threw it into the pooled oil, and stood there muttering a prayer for the dead young one as the flames leaped high and began to fill the hut with smoke.
