Then Vainte stopped, realizing that in her anger she had answered Enge’s questions, satisfied her imbecile beliefs.
With the realization of the truth all of Enge’s anger had been washed away. “Thank you, efensele, thank you. You have done me and the Daughters of Life an immense service this day. You have shown us that our feet are on the path and we must walk along it without straying. Only in that way can we reach the truth that Ugunenapsa spoke of. Those who killed, died from that killing. The others saw that and chose not to die in the same manner. That is what happened, is it not?”
Vainte spoke with cold anger now. “That is what happened — but not for the reasons that you give. They died not because they were better, because they were in some way superior to the rest of the Yilane — they died because they are exactly the same. They thought they could escape the death of being cast out from the city, nameless and dead. They were wrong. They died in the same manner. You are no better than the rest of us — if anything you are something far less.”
In silence, wrapped in thought, Enge turned and left. At the doorway she paused and turned back. “Thank you, efensele,” she said. “Thank you for revealing this immense truth. I sorrow that so many had to die to reveal it, but perhaps that was the only way it could have become known to us. Perhaps even you, in your search for death, will aid in bringing us life. Thank you.”
Vainte hissed with anger and would have torn Enge’s throat open had she not gone at this moment. This on top of her indeterminate status was becoming too much for her to bear. Something must be done. Should she go to the ambesed, go before the Eistaa and speak to her? No, that would not do at all for there might be public humiliation from which she could never recover. Then what? Was there no one she could call upon? Yes, one. One who believed as she did that nothing was more important than the killing of ustuzou. She went out and signaled to a passing fargi and issued her instructions. Most of the day passed and still no one came, until Vainte gradually went from angry pacing to immobile vacuity, settling into a mindless, thoughtless silence. So dark was this somber mood that she had difficulty in rising from it and stirring herself when she finally realized that another stood before her.
“It is you, Stallan.”
“You sent for me.”
“Yes. You did not come to see me of your own will.”
“No. It would have been seen, Malsas‹ would have been told. I do not need this kind of attention from the Eistaa.”
“It was my belief that you served me. Now you value your own scaled hide more?”
Stallan stood solidly, legs wide-braced, and did not give way. “No, Vainte, I value my service more. My work is to kill ustuzou. When you lead, I will follow. To the north they crawl like vermin. They need stamping underfoot. When you do not lead, then I wait.”
Vainte’s evil humor ameliorated slightly. “Do I detect a hint of admonition there, stout Stallan? The slightest suggestion that my energies would be better disposed of if I had simply acted the butcher and slaughtered the nearest ustuzou? That I should not have mounted my great campaign to track down and kill a single miserable ustuzou?”
“You have said it, Vainte. I did not. But it should be known that I also share your desire to open the throat of this one particular ustuzou.”
“But not enough to pursue him wherever he runs and hides?” Vainte paced her quarters, back and forth, twisting with anger, her claws ripping into the matting of the floor. “I tell this to you and you alone, Stallan. Perhaps this last attack was a mistake. But none of us knew the outcome when we began, all of us were carried away by the ambition of it. Even she who now will not speak to me.” She spun about and jabbed her thumb at Stallan.
“So tell me, loyal Stallan. How is it that you avoided my presence all this time — yet now you are here?”
“The losses are forgotten. After all, most of those killed were just fargi. Now there is talk only of those Yilane that were murdered in the forest by the ustuzou, the dead males on the beaches. I have seen to it that many of the pictures that the birds bring back are passed about, pictures of the ustuzou for the Yilane to look at. The Yilane look and grow angry. They wonder why the killing has stopped.”
Vainte crowed with pleasure.
“Loyal Stallan, I wronged you. While I hid here in dark anger you were doing the one thing that will bring my exile to an end. Reminding them of the ustuzou. Showing them what the ustuzou have done and will do again. There are ustuzou out there badly in need of killing. Soon they will come to me again, Stallan, because they will remember that killing ustuzou is one thing that I am very good at. We have made our mistakes — and we have learned from them. It will be calm, efficient slaughter from now on. As fruit is plucked from a tree to feed the animals, so will we pluck these ustuzou. Until the tree is bare and they are gone and Gendasi will be Yilane across all its vast expanse.”
“I will join you in that, Vainte. I have felt since I saw my first ustuzou that it will be ustuzou or Yilane. One or the other must die.”
“That is the truth. That is our destiny and that is what must be done. There will be a day when the skull of the last ustuzou will be hung from the thorns of the Wall of Memory.”
Stallan spoke quietly and with great sincerity.
“It will be your hands that hang it there, Vainte. Yours alone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It became Vainte’s custom to visit the Gendasi model every evening just before sunset. By then the builders would have gone, their work for the day completed, and she could have the vast, dim-lit expanse to herself. There she would study any changes of the day, discover if the birds had brought back any pictures of interest. It was summer now and the animals were on the move, the packs of ustuzou stirring as well. She saw the packs come together, then break apart until they could not be told one from the other. Because she had no authority now she could not order flights, so had to accept without question whatever information the pictures revealed.
Stallan came one evening when she was there, bringing newly arrived pictures that she wanted to compare with the physical record. Vainte seized the pictures eagerly, examining them as well as she could in the failing light. Though there was never any spoken agreement, once Stallan had discovered that Vainte was there at this time of day, she herself came most days bringing new pictures of the ustuzou movements. In this way Vainte knew as much as any other in the city about the creatures she had sworn to destroy.
Whenever there were new pictures of the valley ustuzou in the south she examined them closely; she was not surprised when one day the skin shelters and large beasts were gone. Kerrick was not waiting for her return. He was gone. But he would appear again, she was sure of that.
All that long summer she studied the model, kept to herself — and waited. She followed the movements of the various packs, saw that one of the larger packs of ustuzou was moving steadily east. When this ustuzou pack actually left the shelter of the mountains and approached the ocean shore, she waited and said nothing. When they stopped, well within reach of attack from the sea, she still waited. Her patience must be the greater. Stallan reported worried talk among the Yilane, with the ustuzou this close, anger as well that they were not attacked. Malsas‹ would hear this talk as well, would see the pictures, would have to do something. The pressure was upon her now, not Vainte, and this fact enabled Vainte to control her impatience. It was still a very hard thing to do. But she had everything to gain and little to lose. When the fargi came for her she concealed her elation in unmoving stolidity.
“A message, Vainte, from the Eistaa.”
“Speak.”
“Your presence is needed at once in the ambesed.”
“Return. I come.”
Vainte had given much thought to this moment, considered how long an interval to leave between the message and her departure. Not long; there was no need to anger Malsas‹ without reason. She had considered
