Lanefenuu had forgotten her anger as she listened, and Vainte took advantage of her improved mood.
“The time has come, Eistaa, to turn our backs on the snowy mountain and look instead at the golden beaches. Alpeasak has been cleared not only of the ustuzou but of all the deadly growths that drove them out. The defenses have been regrown and resown with plants that cannot burn. The ustuzou have retreated a great distance and between them and the city are our forces. The time is upon us to return to Alpeasak. It will be a Yilane city once again.”
Lanefenuu was on her feet at this welcome news, raking her claws victoriously into the ground. “Then we leave, we are safe!”
Vainte lifted both rose-hued restraining palms. “It is the beginning — but not yet the end. Aid is needed to make the city secure, to assist its growth. But there is not yet food enough for the multitude of a city. But it is a beginning. You can send one uruketo of Yilane and skilled fargi, two at most.”
“A few drops where I wished for an ocean,” Lanefenuu said with some bitterness. “Let it be so. But what of the ustuzou, what of them?”
“Consider them dead, Eistaa, put them from your thoughts. Akotolp needs some supplies, I will have more fargi. Then we leave. There will be no final clash of arms but rather a slow and inevitable tightening as a great serpent tightens about its victim. Though the victim may struggle — the end is unescapable. When I come to you next it will be to report this final victory.”
Lanefenuu sat back and chewed on this concept, her conical teeth grinding lightly in echo of her thoughts. Everything was taking too long, too many were dead. But was there another way? Who could replace Vainte? No one — that was an easy question to answer. No one else had her knowledge of the ustuzou. Or her hatred. She made mistakes, but they were not fatal mistakes. The ustuzou must be pursued and destroyed, she was convinced of that now. They were too poisonous to be allowed to live. Vainte would accomplish that destruction. As her left eye looked at Vainte her right eye rolled slowly up to look at the snow-topped mountain peak.
This winter was the first time ever that the deadly white had reached all the way down to the edge of the green trees. They must leave before it reached the city itself. There was no choice.
“Go, Vainte,” she ordered, signing her dismissal. “Take what you need and pursue the ustuzou. I do not wish to see you again until you bring me word of their destruction.” Then her anger burst out again. “If they are not dead you will die in their place, that I pledge. Do you understand me?”
“Completely, Eistaa.” Vainte drew herself up and radiated strength and certainty. “I would not have it any other way. I see it clearly. If they do not die — I will. That is my assurance to you. My life. I promise you no less in your cause.”
Lanefenuu signed acceptance and grudging admiration. Vainte would do what must be done.
Vainte took this acceptance as dismissal, turned and strode away with Akotolp puffing after her, hurrying to keep up as Vainte walked faster and faster. Hurrying to her destiny.
Her victory.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Nangeguaqavoq sitkasiagpai.
The destination is of no importance, only the voyage.
Once the decision had been made, some of the madness left Kerrick’s eyes. It had been the unresolvable internal conflict that was tearing him apart. On one hand he and Armun were safe — while across the ocean the sammads of the Tanu and Sasku were under sentence of death. The better off that he was — the worse their position became. He blamed himself for this impossible situation, saw Vainte as the spirit of death that he alone had released. He knew, without any doubt, that she was pursuing her course of destruction only to kill him. He was the responsible one. And he had fled. Only now had he stopped running. Like a trapped beast he was turning to attack. And, like that beast, he never considered for an instant whether he would live or die. He knew only that he had to lash out, to tear and rend.
It was Armun who saw all too clearly the certain price of failure. When she watched him poring over his charts she wished that there were another way. There was none, she knew that. They must sail south into the unknown. Either that or stay here until he went mad. He was happy now, even smiling as he compared the charts, traced out the course that they must take. Although the future was dark and unknown, Armun was satisfied with her decision. Kerrick had filled her empty life, taken her from exile, from a life that was no life at all. He was not like the other hunters, could do things they could not do. He had led and they had followed him to victory against the murgu. But once the city had been taken they had rejected him. She knew all about rejection. Now, where he led she would follow. A small army of one. No, two really, she must not forget the little Paramutan hunter who saw wisdom in madness, sailed willingly into the blizzards of the arctic winter.
Kalaleq was indeed very happy. He sang hunting songs to himself as he went over the boat’s sail stitch by stitch, sewing in more gut if there was any sign of weakness. He had done the same with the hull, checking and caulking. The first part of the journey south would be the most trying and every precaution must be taken before they left. Food stowed and lashed firmly into position — and the same for the waterskins. He knew full well what the fury of the winter storms could do. There would be two pumps instead of one for if they foundered they were lost. What fun! He laughed aloud as he worked, pretending not to see the jealous and envying looks of the others. What a voyage it would be!
Even when all of the preparations were complete they had to wait, for now in the depths of winter, the winds blew their worst, banking the snow outside the paukaruts and screaming continuously overhead. Now they could only wait. Some of Kerrick’s dark mood returned with every day’s delay and he fought to control it, knowing that nothing could be done. The work completed Kalaleq slept and harbored his strength. Armun remained calm, resigned, and this had a salutary affect on Kerrick. They would leave when the weather permitted.
When Kerrick woke he knew at once that something was very different. The shrieking wind that had torn at the paukarut for endless days was gone. Everything was still. Kalaleq was ahead of him, opening the lashings to admit the bright sunshine.
“What weather! How good!”
“Then we leave?”
“Now, soon, at once, no delay! The spirit of the wind has told us we must go at once while he is resting. He will not rest long, and we must try to be across the bay of storms before he returns. To the boat!”
With the end of the blizzard everyone knew that the long-delayed voyage would now begin. The paukaruts emptied, and the shouting, laughing mob converged on the boat. It was lifted clear of the snow and rushed to the ocean’s edge. Waves still broke in a cloud of spray and rushed far up the slanting length of the flensing ledge. There was much loud argument as to the best manner of launching, but agreement was quickly reached. Ready volunteers hauled the boat into the surf, laughing and shouting at the cold soaking, held it there in the crashing waves. Still others seized up the three voyagers, sat them on their shoulders to keep them dry, then staggered forward into the water. The instant they were aboard Kalaleq raised the sail as willing hands pushed them into the breaking waves. As the boat surged forward the helpers were tumbled over by the heavy surf and washed ashore, laughing until they were exhausted. Armun watched with amazement; she would never understand these strange, furry hunters.
With the prevailing wind from the west they had to tack very often to make any progress to the south and west. Kalaleq knew that the coast to the south of them ran from east to west and they would never turn the headland west of the bay if they allowed themselves to be carried toward the land. Watching both the sail and the sky he took the bobbing, tiny craft on a course that should keep them well clear of the shore.
Seasickness struck Armun almost at once and she lay sprawled, damp-skinned under her fur covers. Kerrick seemed unaffected by the swooping rush through the waves and helped with the lines whenever they had to go about. He was smiling too, even laughing like the Paramutan while the spray froze on his hair and beard. Kalaleq
