things they knew.
“The sammad of Amahast is no more, all killed, you saw their bones upon the shore. You see Amahast’s skymetal knife now around my neck and know that I took it from among his bones. What I found on that beach, among those skeletons, led me to believe that death came to them from the south. I chose you to come with me to find that death. I chose you because you are strong hunters. We have come south for many days, stopping only to kill for meat to fill our bellies. We have come south to the country of the murgu and have seen many of them. But yesterday we found something different. We found trails that were not animal trails. I followed those trails to wherie they led. I will tell you now what I found.”
There was something in Herilak’s voice that silenced them all, even Ortnar. The last light of sunset washed Herilak’s face as red as blood, a blood-mask that belonged with the anger that drew his lips back from his teeth, clenched his jaw so tightly that it now muffled his words.
“I have found the killers. Those paths were made by murgu, of a kind I have never seen before. There is a great nest of them out there where they teem like ants in an anthill. But they are not ants — or Tanu — although they stand erect on legs like Tanu. They are not any of the beasts we know, but are murgu of a new kind. They move over the water on the backs of creatures like boats and their nest is guarded by a wall of thorns. And they have weapons.”
“What are you saying?” There was terror in Ortnar’s voice, for Herilak spoke of nightmares come alive. “That there are murgu that walk like Tanu? Who have spears and bows and kill like Tanu? We must leave, now, quickly, before they reach us…”
“Silence.” There was grim command in Herilak’s voice. “You are a hunter, not a woman. If you show your fear the animals you hunt will know it and will laugh at you and all of your arrows will miss their mark.”
Even Ortnar knew that this was true and he bit his lips shut to assure his silence. If you spoke of deer, no matter how distant they were, they would hear you and flee. Worse still, if a hunter felt fear all the animals would know it and his stone points would never strike true. Ortnar felt the others turn away from him and knew that he had spoken too quickly without thinking. He took refuge in silence.
“These murgu are like Tanu but not like Tanu. I watched all day from hiding and saw them do many things that I did not understand. But I did see something that is a weapon, although it is not a spear or a bow. It is like a stick. A marag pointed one and there was a noise and I saw a deer fall dead.” His voice rose, challenging them to disbelieve him, but none spoke. “This is what I saw, although I cannot explain it. The stick-thing is a weapon and there are many murgu, many sticks. It is they who killed the sammad of Amahast.”
It was Tellges who broke the long silence that followed. He believed what Herilak had said, but he could not understand it all.
“These murgu that kill with noise-sticks. You can be sure they killed the sammad?”
“I can be sure.” Herilak’s voice was grim again with the portent of the words that he spoke. “I can be sure because they know of the Tanu. I can be sure of this because I saw them capture a boy of the Tanu. They know of us. We now know of them.”
“What do we do, Herilak?” Serriak asked.
“We return to the sammad because there are just the five of us against so many murgu that they cannot be counted. But we do not return with our hands empty. The Tanu must be warned of this danger, shown what the danger is.”
“And how will this be done?” Ortnar asked, and there was still a tremor of fear in his voice.
“I will think before I sleep and you will be told in the morning. Now we will all sleep because there is much to be done tomorrow.”
Herilak had not spoken the entire truth. He had already decided what must be done, but he did not want them awake and worrying about it all night. Particularly Ortnar. He was one of the best hunters — but he thought about things too much before they happened. Sometimes it was better not to think but simply to act.
At dawn they were awake and Herilak ordered all of their possessions packed into their boat, ready for launching.
“When we return,” he said, “we will want to leave without delay. It may be that we will be followed.” He smiled at the sudden apprehension on their faces. “It is only a small chance. If we do our work as hunters there will be no chance at all. Here is what we must do. We are going to find a small group of murgu who are not close to the others. Yesterday I saw groups like this. They were doing something. We will find them and then, unseen, we will slay them. All of them, in silence. If my brother is hurt, I will bleed. If my brother is killed, then death is mine to return. Now we leave.”
Herilak looked at their grim and silent faces, could see them weighing his words. What he had proposed was something new and dangerous. But they would be hunting and killing murgu, murgu that had attacked and slaughtered the entire sammad of Amahast. Had butchered the women and children, the mastodons, everything. When they thought of this the anger grew within them and they were ready. Herilak nodded and took up his weapons and they took up theirs as well and followed him into the jungle.
It was dark under the trees where the dense foliage blocked out the sun, but the trail was well-trodden and easy to follow. They went in silence, bright birds calling out above them in the canopy of the forest. More than once they stopped, spears ready, as something heavy and unseen crashed in the undergrowth nearby.
The trail they followed twisted up through sandy hillocks set with towering pine trees, fresh-smelling with the morning breeze rustling their needles above. Herilak raised his hand suddenly and they stopped in rigid silence. He raised his head and sniffed the air, then cocked his head to listen. They could all hear the sound now, a faint crackling like burning twigs, or waves upon a stony shore. They crept forward then, to a place where the trees opened out upon grassy meadows. Meadows filled with movement.
Murgu, a giant herd of them, stretching out into the distance. Four-legged, round, each twice as big as a man, small eyes rolling as they tore at the grass and pine-cones. One reared to seize a branch in its duck-like bill, sharp claws on its small forelegs, sharper claws on its long hindlegs. Herilak signaled a retreat; they would have to work their way around the herd. Before they could move there was a scream from the jungle and a great marag appeared among the trees, leaping forward onto one of the grazing beasts. It was armored and scaled, its teeth white daggers now dripping with blood. Its forelegs were tiny and useless — but the claws of its great hind legs tore the life from its prey. The rest of the herd squealed and ran; the hunters hurried on before the marag took notice of them as well.
The trail led down from the trees into low, brush-covered land. The ground was getting softer, water pushing up between their toes as they walked; the sun burned on their backs while here in the open, away from the shelter of the forest, the damp heat was suffocating. They were running with sweat, panting for air, by the time Herilak signaled a halt.
“Up ahead, do you see it?” He spoke so quietly that they could barely make out his words. “That open stretch of water. That is where I saw them. Go forward in silence and do not show yourselves.’
They moved like shadows. No blade of grass rustled, no leaf moved to show that they had passed. One by one they slid up to the water’s edge where they peered unseen from the darkness. Then there was the quiet gasp of indrawn breath from one of the hunters; Herilak scowled in his direction.
Although the sammadar had told them what he had seen, and of course they had believed him, the reality was another thing altogether. They could only watch in horrified silence as the two dark forms slid silently through the water towards them. The first of them came close, passed by before the concealed hunters.
A boat — but not a boat — for it moved without oars. It had been decorated with a large shell at the front. No, not decorated, the shell grew there, was part of the living creature that was the boat itself. And on its back it carried other creatures, murgu. They could only be the ones that Herilak had told them of. But his words had not prepared them for the disgusting reality. Like deformed Tanu they stood erect, or unlike Tanu squatted back on their thick tails. Some of them held strange objects, while others had long dark sticks that must be the weapons Herilak had described. The hunters watched in frozen silence while the creatures passed, not a short arrow flight away. One of them was making clacking, growling sounds. Everything about the scene was alien and repellent.
Then the dark forms were past, had stopped on the far bank and the murgu were climbing ashore.
“You have seen,” Herilak said. “It is as I told you. They did this same thing yesterday, then they returned. Now you must move without being seen and find places along the bank where there is space to draw your bows. Lay your arrows on the ground before you. Wait in silence. When they return I will give the order to be ready.
