“Negative!” Ambalasi said, striding to the mound and interrupting with the coarsest of movements and sounds. “That is impossible. The Sorogetso, all of them, return to their old way of living today and will no longer be permitted to enter this city. You can only accept or reject my generous offer. Live or die.”
Far‹ stepped before the old scientist, youth before age, calmness before rage. “Then we must reject you, stern Ambalasi, accept death if that is the only way that we can live. We will leave with the Sorogetso when they go, live simply as they do. They have food and they will share it. If some die it is enough that Ugunenapsa’s thoughts live.”
“Impossible. The Sorogetso must not be disturbed.”
“But how can you prevent us, kind friend? Will you kill us?”
“I will,” Ambalasi said without an instant’s hesitation. “I have hesotsan. I will kill any and all of you who dare to interfere with the natural existence of the Sorogetso. You have done enough damage already.”
“Far‹ my Sister, Ambalasi our leader,” Enge said, stepping between them. “It is my strongest request that neither of you say things that you will regret, make promises that will be difficult to keep. Listen to me. There is a way. If there is any truth in Ugunenapsa’s teachings it is in the application of those teachings. We believe in ending death for others as well as ourselves. Therefore we will do as wise Ambalasi says, humbly obey her instructions as waiting-eistaa while we seek a more permanent solution to this major problem that confronts us.”
“Speak for yourself,” Far‹ said, drawing herself up firmly, her limbs shaped in rejection. “Speak for those who listen to you if they wish that. But you cannot speak for all of us, cannot speak for those of us who believe in efeneleiaa, the spirit of life, the common force behind all life, all thinking. The thing that differentiates live from dead. As we meditate about efeneleiaa we experience great ecstasy and powerful emotions. You cannot take this away from us with low labors and filthy hands. We will not be forced.”
“You will not be fed,” Ambalasi said with great practicality.
“Enough!” Enge ordered with a voice of thunder and all fell silent for none had heard her speak with such great firmness before. “We will discuss these matters — but we will not discuss them now. We will follow Ambalasi’s instructions until our studies of Ugunenapsa’s thoughts show us a way to rule ourselves.” She spun to face Far‹ who recoiled from the strength of her movements.
“You I bid to silence before us all. You condemn the Eistaa who orders our death — then you assume the role of eistaa-of-knowledge who will lead her followers to their deaths. Better that you should die that they should live. I do not will that — but I understand now the feelings of an eistaa who wills one to die so that all others should live. I reject this emotion — but I understand it.”
There were cries of pain from the sisters, moans of despair. Far‹ closed her great eyes as a shiver passed through her body. Then she began to speak but obeyed when Enge called for silence-for-all, in the name of Ugunenapsa whom they revered. When Enge spoke again it was with humility and sadness, all anger fled.
“My sisters, who are more to me than life itself for I would die happily if my death were needed to let the lowliest of you live. We disgrace ourselves and Ugunenapsa when we permit our divisions to control us. Let us serve Ugunenapsa in serving Ambalasi. Let us leave this place in silence and each of us meditate long on what has happened to us. Then we will discuss our problems among ourselves and work out mutually satisfactory answers. Now go.”
They did, in silence for the most part for they had much to think about, much to consider. When only Enge and Ambalasi were left the old scientist spoke with great weariness.
“That will do for the moment — but only for the moment. You are in for a great deal of trouble my friend. Take heed of Far‹ who is a troublemaker, who seeks divisions and leads others in her ways. She is a schism in your otherwise solid ranks.”
“I know — and I grieve. There was one once before who interpreted Ugunenapsa in her own manner, who died herself when she finally understood the wrongness of her thoughts. But many of the Daughters died because of her. May this never happen again.”
“It is already happening. I fear for the future of this city.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The first spring rains brought an unwelcome change to the valley of the Sasku. What had been thin vines hanging from the top of the enclosing walls now became burgeoning lengths that dropped lower every day toward the valley floor. They could not be burned, that had been tried without success, and were difficult to approach because of their poisonous thorns. Now swollen, poisonous green fruit could be seen ripening on their stems.
“When the fruit falls — then what? What murgu destruction is hidden within them?” Herilak said, looking up at the mass of growth above.
“It could be anything,” Sanone said, his voice wearier than any had ever heard, the weight of his many years bearing down on him as never before. The mandukto and the sammadar had drawn away from the others as they did often now; to search for answers to problems that were insoluble. Sanone’s face twisted with disgust as he looked at the harsh green growths above them, ringing the valley walls. “Anything could emerge, poisonous, deadly, they seem to change all the time.
“Or perhaps they contain only seeds to grow more of them. That would be bad enough.”
“Yesterday there was only a trickle of water in the river. Today it is completely dry.”
“We have the spring, there is plenty for all.”
“I want to see what they have done to our water; we have to know. I will take two hunters.”
“One of my young manduktos will go with you as well. Wrap yourselves in the cloth, legs and feet covered as well.”
“I know.” Herilak’s voice was grim. “Another child, dead. The thorns fly up from the sand when disturbed, very hard to see. We have had to pen and guard the mastodons. They will eat anything green. How will this all end?”
“It can end in only one way,” Sanone said, his voice bleak and empty. He turned and left.
Herilak led his small band past the guards and over the barrier that sealed the valley. It was hot in the muffling wrappings of cloth, but the protection was needed. The murgu kept their distance, always retreating when attacked, but the dart-throwers grew everywhere now.
They walked cautiously up the valley floor along the dry riverbed, the mud already caked into a hard crust. There was movement ahead and Herilak pointed his death-stick, but there was nothing more to be seen, just a clatter of retreating claws. A few more turns in the valley and they reached the barrier.
From wall to wall it stretched, a tangled mass of vines and intertwined growth, vivid with flowers; a vertical jungle. A little water trickled through this living dam to make a small pool at its base.
“We can cut it down, burn it,” Sarotil said. Herilak shook his head slowly, his face dark with anger, hatred- despair.
“Cut it, it will grow again. It won’t burn. Poison thorns await us if we go close. Come, I want to see where all the water is going.”
As they climbed up out of the dry riverbed there was a quick whistle of darts from above that bristled into their cloth coverings. Herilak fired back, climbed quickly. But there were no murgu there. The mandukto pointed to a shrub still swaying with the release of its burden; long roots from it ran back down the slope.
“We sprang the trap ourselves, when we stepped on the roots. They are growing these plants around us all of the time, more and more of them.”
There was nothing that could be said. They skirted the bush — and the others like it — walked up along the high bank until the living dam was below them. A small lake had been formed behind it which had burst the banks further upstream. The river now found a new course out into the desert and away from the valley.
It was a good thing that they still had the spring of pure water.
Once they were back behind the relative safety of the barrier they carefully plucked out the poisonous darts before stripping off the stifling layers of cloth. Herilak found Sanone waiting in their usual meeting place, and he reported what they had found.
“And we had not a single glimpse of a murgu — they have learned to keep their distance.”
“The dam could be torn down…”
