Inlenu* lurched after Kerrick as he stumbled to the fargi and pulled the spear from her dead grasp. He cut Herilak’s ankles free, then his wrists.
“What is this? What has happened?” Vainte called out angrily.
Kerrick spun about to see her standing above him, mouth open, teeth shining. And now, for the first time he saw before her in the blur of memory those teeth tearing a girl’s throat out. Saw the rows of teeth above him as she straddled him, roaring with pleasure. Shared pleasure, for he had been moved as well.
Pleasure and hatred now, he felt them both.
She was saying something he could not hear, issuing an order he could not obey, as she turned away and reached for one of the abandoned weapons.
What he did next was so natural, so right that it required no thought or effort. The spear came up, thrust forward, into Vainte’s side, deep into her body. She clutched at it and it came free. Blood spurted as she crumpled and fell backwards out of sight.
“Run,” Herilak shouted, pulling at Kerrick’s shoulder. “Come with me. You can’t stay here, not after what you have done. You must come with me. That is all that you can do now.”
He took Kerrick by the hand, tugging him towards the dark wall of the forest beyond the glade. Kerrick resisted — then stumbled after him crashing, through the undergrowth, the spear still clutched, forgotten, in his hand, with Inlenu* protesting and stumbling along behind.
Their running footsteps died away as they vanished from sight among the trees. The glade was quiet again.
Quiet as death.
BOOK TWO
CHAPTER ONE
The flock of crows wheeled up in wide circles, cawing loudly before settling back among the trees. There was little wind and the afternoon was close and hot. Under the trees it was cooler, for the leaves were so thick upon the birch and oak trees above that only a dapple of flickering sunlight filtered through to the forest floor below. A moving pattern of light that played over the three figures sprawled on the soft grass.
Even Herilak’s massive strength was spent; his wounds had reopened and blood matted his hair and beard, spread wetly down his side. He lay back, eyes closed, drawing in breath after ragged breath.
Inlenu* lay opposite him, her position an unconscious mockery of his with her jaw gaping wide to cool herself after the unwelcome exertion in the heat.
Kerrick was not as exhausted as they were, so was well aware of what was happening, of where they were. In the foothills close above the shore. They had fled, running until Inlenu* could run no more, and when she had staggered to a halt Herilak had fallen as well. While they had been running Kerrick’s panic had slowly ebbed away — but had been replaced by a heart-stopping fear.
What had he done?
The question was its own answer. He knew what he had done. He had destroyed himself. He had murdered the Eistaa. Now that the emotion was spent he could not understand what had possessed him to do such an insane thing. With that single thrust of the spear he had cut every bond that held him to the Yilane, had set every Yilane hand against him. The life he had known was ended, was as dead as Vainte herself. Now he could never return to the comforts of Alpeasak, to the easy life he had known there. Ahead of him was only a blankness, an emptiness, with the only certainty that of death itself. Shivering with apprehension he turned and pushed a shrub aside and looked back down the slope. Nothing moved. There was no sign of any pursuit. Not yet — but they would certainly follow. The murderer of the Eistaa would not be allowed to escape unpunished.
He could not return. Not after what he had done. The past was dead. He was an exile now, a Yilane among ustuzou. More alone than he had ever been before. The voice cut across his thoughts and it was long moments before he could understand the words.
“You did it well, Kerrick, a good clean thrust. Killed the one in command.”
Kerrick’s voice was numb with loss. “More than just the one in command. Leader, head of the city, sammadar of the city.”
“Even better.”
“Better? Her death will bring about my death!”
“Her? That ugly marag was female? It’s hard to believe.”
“They are all female. The males are kept locked away.”
Herilak struggled up onto his elbows and looked coldly at Inlenu*. “That one too, a female?” he asked.
“All of them.”
“Give me the spear. Then there will be one less.”
“No!” Kerrick pulled the spear back before Herilak’s groping fingers could find it. “Not Inlenu*. She’s harmless, as much a prisoner as I am. You’ll not kill her.”
“Why not? Was it not her kind cut down my sammad, killed them all, every one? Give me the spear. I’ll kill her and then you will be free. How far do you think you will be able to go bound to her like that?”
“You will not harm her, do you understand?” Kerrick was surprised at the warmth of his feeling towards Inlenu*. She had meant nothing to him before this. He had been aware of her only as a hindrance to his movements. But now her presence was somehow reassuring.
“If you won’t kill her then use the edge of the spearhead. Cut yourself loose from the thing.”
“This lead cannot be cut. See, the stone edge won’t even scratch it.” He sawed at the smooth, hard surface to no effect. “Some of your sammad escaped.” Talk of this might make Herilak forget Inlenu* for the moment. “I was told this. I was also told that they were being followed.”
“Do you know who they were? How many?”
“No. Just that some fled.”
“Now I must think. Whoever they are, they will not go any further south. They will know better than that. They will return, back the way we came. Yes, that is what they will do. Backtrack, to the nearest water, the stream where we camped last night. We must go there as well.” He looked up at Kerrick. “Have we been followed?”
“I have been watching. I don’t think that any of them saw us escape. But they will come. They are good trackers. I will not be allowed to escape after what I have done.”
“You worry without cause. They are not here yet. But we will not be safe until we are well away from the shore. They could still find us in these hills if, as you say, they know anything about tracking.” He struggled to rise, and could only get to his feet with Kerrick’s help. He rubbed the clotted blood from his eyes and looked about. “We go in that direction, along that valley. If we follow it north, then cross the ridge, we will come to the campsite by the stream. Now we leave.”
They made slow progress the rest of the afternoon, since they were forced to proceed at Herilak’s limping pace, going on steadily even though there was no sign of any pursuit. They were working their way up a grassy valley when Herilak stopped suddenly and raised his head to sniff the air.
“Deer,” he said. “We need food. I don’t think that we are being followed — but even if we are we must take the chance. You will bring a good-sized buck, Kerrick.”
Kerrick looked at the spear, tested its weight in his hand. “I have not thrown a spear since I was a boy. I no longer have the skill.”
“It will return.”
“Not this day. You have the skill, Herilak. Do you have the strength?” He held out the spear and Herilak seized it.
“When I lack the strength to hunt I will be dead. Go to the stream there, under the trees, keep watch and wait until I return.”
