Choose your targets. Wait. Bend your bows but do not loose your arrows. Wait. When I give the command — kill them all. Not one must escape to warn the others. Is this understood?”
He looked at each grim, set face, and each hunter nodded agreement. In silence they took their positions, then in silence, unmoving, they waited. The sun rose high, the heat was intense, the insects bit and their mouths were dry with thirst. Yet no one moved. They waited.
The murgu were doing strange, incomprehensible things, while making loud animal sounds at the same time. They were either still as stones or twitching with repulsive movements. This went on for an unbearably long time.
Then ended as suddenly as it had begun. The murgu were putting their artifacts onto the living boats, then boarding them. The ones with the killing-sticks, obviously acting as guards, went first. They pushed off.
The birds were silent in the heat of the day, the only sound the ripple of water around the shell bows of the approaching creatures. Closer they came, and still closer, until the colored details of their scaled skins were repulsively clear. They were close to the bank, coming even with the unseen hunters, passing…
“Now.”
Strum of bowstrings, hiss of arrows. A murgu screamed hoarsely, the only one to utter a sound, then was silenced as a second arrow caught it in the throat.
Arrows had plunged as well into the dark hides of the living boats; they heaved in the water, spun about, the bodies of the dead murgu spilling from them. There was another loud splash as Herilak dived into the water and swam to the massacre. He returned dragging one of the bodies after him, was helped from the water by ready hands.
They turned the marag over, stared into the sightless eyes, prodded it unbelievingly with their bows.
“It was well done,” Herilak said. “All dead. Now we leave — and we take this with us.” He held out one of the killing-sticks. “We also take the body.”
They gaped in silence, not understanding. Herilak’s answering smile was the smile of death.
“Others must see what we have seen. They must be warned. We take this corpse with us in the boat. We row all this day and all of the night if we must. We get far away from this place and the murgu. Then, before this marag stinks too much, we flay it.”
“Good,” Tellges said. “Take the skull too. Cure the hide and take it with us.”
“That is correct,” Herilak said. “There will be no doubt then, none at all. Every Tanu who sees these things we have brought will then know what we have seen.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The model had a practical purpose, was indeed essential to the planning and design of the city. But like all things Yilane it had to have a functional gestalt of its own, a completeness that went far beyond actual necessity. A chart could have been made that would serve the same purpose well enough, just as charts were used for navigation of the uruketo. But charts were used there only because of the shortage of space. In that particular case necessity demanded charts so the pragmatic answer was to make charts. Since no such restriction existed in the city, a scale model of Alpeasak was constructed that was essential for future planning, yet was also pleasing to behold.
Vainte walked slowly around it, immensely satisfied. It was much improved since Sokain had come from Inegban* with her trained assistants. They had fleshed out the details that had only been indicated by the field surveyors. Now tiny stunted trees formed the heart of the city, surrounding the small opening of the ambesed. When Vainte bent close to look there was the golden crescent of the birth beaches, complete down to the wall of thorns.
Alakensi was of course right behind her, a constant reminder that Malsas‹ would be getting reports on every detail of her movements and decisions, a nagging presence that dulled the pleasure of everything. Kerrick came next in line, as he did all of the time now. He was feeling even more excited interest than Vainte, though he was careful not to reveal this in any way. This was the first time he had seen this model; he had not even known of its existence until this moment. He must study it, try to memorize it all. Then, when he escaped from the city, he would know just what course to take to safety. As he moved so did Inlenu*, a few steps behind him, holding up a loop of the lead that bound them together. Kerrick was so used to her presence now that he usually forgot all about her. She was just an inescapable fact of life — like the metal collar that rested about his neck. When he stopped she stopped, her back turned, not listening to anything being said, thinking her own placid thoughts until a tug on the lead stirred her to life again.
There was only a narrow walkway around the model, so the ever-attentive fargi were forced to remain outside, straining to see in through the doorway, telling each other how wonderful the model was, admiring the size of the transparent ceiling that filtered the sunlight to a golden glow.
Vainte had reached the far side of the model now where Sokain was working with her assistants. Vainte was upon them before Sokain was aware of her presence.
“Welcome, Eistaa, welcome,” she said hurriedly standing up, speaking, brushing mud from her knees — and holding onto a bulbous orange creature at the same time.
“Do not let me disturb your work,” Vainte said.
“It is completed. The transfer of measurements has been made.”
“And this is what you use,” Vainte pointed to the orange animal. “I have never seen a creature of this kind before.”
Sokain held out the orange chiton case for Vainte’s inspection. Other than a tiny mouth and sealed eyes it was featureless, except for a tube on top and a number of indentations down the side.
“Explain,” Vainte ordered, for as Eistaa there was no small detail of the city that she must not know. Sokain pointed to the bare ground where the model was being enlarged, to small slivers of wood that had been pushed into it.
“Those bits of wood correspond to the stakes we used in the survey. When we are in the field I place this measuring creature upon a marked spot in the ground and look through this tube at a stake which is a certain distance away. When this is done I press the indentations to inform the instrument to remember the angle and distance. I then turn the tube to another stake and do the same. This is done many times. When I return to the model the instrument-creature informs us of the scaled down distance between stakes and of the correct angles between them as well. The result — this model.”
“Excellent. What are these curved channels you have scribed in the soil?”
“Waterways, Eistaa. On this side of the city we have found a great deal of swamp. We are now plotting its extent.”
Vainte displayed concern. “We need many more fields. Can these swamps be drained or filled?”
“I do not think so. But Akasest, who has improved the quality of the feed for the herds, has examined them as well and we are now planning to create enclosures there. There are many amphibious species, such as the urukub, that will thrive in that environment.”
“A satisfactory solution and utilization of the environment. You are both to be commended.”
“Our pleasure is to serve Alpeasak,” Sokain said formally, expressing great personal pleasure at the same time.
Much later, Vainte was to remember this conversation, for it was the last time that she was ever to speak to the surveyor.
Like all of her days, this was a full one. As the city expanded so did the work — and with it the decisions that had to be made. By the time that the shadows were getting long she became aware of her fatigue and waved the attentive fargi away, then signaled Kerrick for a drinking fruit. There was one attached to a saptree close by and he prodded the green bulb until the suckers let go. He brought it to Vainte who opened its orifice and drank the cool, sweet water inside. When she lowered it she saw Stallan hurrying across the ambesed, shouldering fargi aside in her haste. Vainte knew that there was trouble, knew it as clearly as if the hunter had spoken aloud.
“Tell me,” Vainte ordered as Stallan hurried up.
“The survey party, Sokain and her assistants, they have not returned — and it is almost nightfall.”
