Thunder rumbled ominously behind the dark-clouds as the torrential rain lashed the surface of the ocean. The uruketo moved slowly away from the shore, with the two smaller uruketo close behind. The enteesenat, happy to be in the open ocean again, raced ahead, surging up and out of the water as they dived through the waves. Inegban* soon fell behind, grew dim, then was lost from sight in the rain.
It was not an easy voyage. After the excitement and unexpected pleasures of Inegban*, the return trip in the uruketo was a constant torment to Kerrick. The interior was filled to capacity, the bottom so covered with fargi that it was impossible to walk without treading on them. Food and water were in short supply and carefully rationed. This was no hardship for the Yilane who simply grew torpid and slept most of the time. Not so Kerrick. He felt closed in, trapped, unable to breathe. Nor was there any respite in sleep, for he would dream of suffocating, drowning, and wake with a cry, running with sweat. He could not move around at will, and only twice during the seemingly endless voyage did he manage to make his way up inside the fin to gasp in lungfuls of the life-giving salt air.
There was a storm in mid-ocean that prevented the fin from opening for so many days that the foul- smelling air became unbreathable. In the end the fin had to be opened, just a slit, but this was still more than enough to admit a dripping shower of cold sea water along with the air. Damp and sticky, first cold then warm again, Kerrick suffered in silent misery.
When the storm finally ended and the fin could be opened again, Vainte ordered the others away and climbed to the top alone. The seas were still heavy and white-tipped waves stretched out on all sides. Empty seas. The two small uruketo had vanished; they were never seen again.
Kerrick’s seasickness ended only when they were in the harbor of Alpeasak . The sickness and the days without food had weakened him so greatly that he could barely climb to his feet. The caged raptor had suffered almost as much as he had; its head hung low and it cried out weakly when they carried it away. Kerrick was the last ashore, and had to be lifted bodily up the fin by Inlenu* and two of the fargi.
Vainte breathed deeply of the moist, warm air, rich with the odors of the living city, and felt immense pleasure as she shook off the lethargy of the voyage. She slipped into the first cooling tank she came to, rubbed away the salt and crusted filth from the uruketo’s interior, emerged into the sunlight again refreshed and fit.
She had no need to summon the city leaders because they were all waiting for her in the ambesed when she arrived.
“Alpeasak is well?” she asked, and felt even more refreshed when they all communicated well-being. “What of the ustuzou, Stallan, what of those vermin that gnaw at the fringes of our city?”
“A nuisance, little more. Some of our meat animals have been stolen, others butchered during the hours of darkness, their flesh carried away before morning. But our defenses are strong, there is little they can do.”
“The smallest amount is too much. They must be stopped. And they will be. I bring more fargi, trained in the use of their weapons. The ustuzou will be followed and killed.”
“They are hard to track,” Stallan said doubtfully. “They have an animal’s skill in the forest and leave no sign of their passing. Or if there is a trail it leads only to an ambush. Many fargi have died that way.”
“No more,” Vainte said, and expressed pleasure as the raptor screeched as though in response. Its cage had been brought forward by its handlers and the bird was now preening its feathers in the sunlight.
“All will be explained,” Vainte said. “This flying creature will enable us to find the ustuzou den where they hide their cubs and females. But first I want the reports in detail of everything that has passed while I have been away.”
The raptor recovered quickly from the sea voyage: Vainte waited impatiently for the next ustuzou raid. When the report reached her she issued rapid orders and went at once to the outlying pasture where the attack had occurred. Stallan was there first, pointing out with disgust the butchered corpses on the blood-stained grass.
“Wasteful. Just the rich hindquarters have been taken.”
“Very practical,” Vainte said, showing little emotion. “Easy to carry, little to waste. Which way have they gone?”
Stallan indicated the opening that had been torn in the thorn fence, the trail beyond that vanished under the tall trees.
“North, as always. An easy trail to follow which means we were meant to see it. The meat is gone and only death, traps, and ambushes will be on that trail if we dare to follow it.”
“The bird will go where we cannot,” Vainte said as the raptor was brought up. The captive creature screamed angrily and tore at the shackle that held its leg. It was not caged now but sat instead on a wooden perch mounted on a platform. Long poles supported this so that the fargi that carried it could not be reached by claw or beak. Kerrick arrived at the same time, wondering at this early summons.
“Do your work,” Vainte ordered the handlers.
Kerrick found himself suddenly no longer a spectator as hard thumbs seized him and dragged him forward. The raptor was excited by the sight and smell of the bleeding carcasses, screeching and flapping its wings thunderously. One of the handlers carved a lump of flesh from the flank of a butchered beast and threw it towards the bird. It seized the red meat greedily with its free foot, clamped it to the perch with its claws and tore bloody gobbets from it. Only when it was done did they continue. Kerrick struggled as he was pushed forward, almost within reach of that gory, hooked beak.
“Follow, find. Follow, find,” the handler shouted, over and over, while they forced Kerrick even closer.
The raptor did not attack, but turned its head instead to fix one cold, gray eye upon Kerrick. It stared unwaveringly at him while the commands were shouted at it, only blinking and bobbing its head when the orders ceased.
“Turn the perch until it faces the trail,” the handler ordered, then reached out from behind and swiftly released the shackle.
The raptor screamed, bent its legs — then hurled itself into the air with the thunderous beat of great wings. Kerrick fell back as the bird looked in his direction and the handler shouted instructions.
It had been well-trained. It mounted swiftly into the air, soared about in a single lofty circle-then started north.
“It has begun,” Vainte said with great satisfaction.
But her enthusiasm ebbed as day after day went by — and the raptor did not return. The worried handlers avoided her, as did everyone else at the sight of the anger in her movements. As long as Kerrick was not summoned to her presence he stayed as far away as he could. The hanale offered a quiet retreat where he could not easily be found; he had not been there since their return from Inegban*.
Ikemend opened the door at his approach. “You have been to Inegban*,” she said, her words a question and an answer at the same time, excitement in the movements she spoke.
“I have never seen such a city.”
“Tell me of it, for I will never see it again with my own eyes.”
While he spoke she fitted the leash into a groove that had been worked into the wood of the doorway, then closed the door against it. Kerrick knew what she wanted to hear and told her only of the glories of the city, the crowds and the excitement — and nothing of the hunger and cold of the winters. He valued his visits to the hanale so made sure that Ikemend would always look forward to seeing him. She listened as long as she could, hurrying away only when the urgency of her work demanded it. The males did not like Ikemend and carefully avoided her company. None of them were in sight now. Kerrick looked down a dark hallway, to the interior he would never see, then called out when someone passed at the far end.
“It is I, Kerrick, I would speak with you.”
The male hesitated, then started on, stopping only when Kerrick called out to him again. “I have been to Inegban*. Would you like to hear about the city?”
The bait was too strong to be resisted. The Yilane came slowly forward into the light and Kerrick recognized him. Esetta*, a moody creature whom he had talked to once or twice. All of the other males admired Esetta*’s singing, though Kerrick found it monotonous and a little boring. Though he had never said this aloud.
“Inegban* is a real city,” Esetta* said, in the abrupt, breathless fashion that all the males used. “There we could sit high up among the leaves and watch everything that happened in the crowded walkways below. We were
