“The stink will kill us before it kills a marag,” Hanath said.
“I don’t think so.” Kerrick held up his spear. “When the poison is buried a second time it will be in small leather bags that will be wrapped around the spearpoints. We will bury the spears too, special spears only for killing murgu. Then, when we stab a marag, the spearpoint goes through the bag and into the flesh and the thing dies.”
“We can certainly do that,” Morgil said with great enthusiasm. “We will help you, Armun, make a lot of takkuuk spears. Then we can trade them to the other sammads. We can even trek to the valley of the Sasku, trade with them for cloth.”
“You may never hunt again,” Armun said. “You will trade anything now.”
“Of course. We can hunt too, if we want to. But we like trading.”
There were so many furs and rolls of hide that the two traders had to cut poles for a travois. It was heavy laden and they took turns dragging it when they started south. The nights were cold, the days crisp, the new furs and hides a pleasure to sleep in at night. The stars seemed brighter here than they were on the island, Kerrick thought, lying awake and watching them after Armun had gone to sleep. Perhaps because they were the tharms of hunters, therefore shone more brightly in the north, here where the hunters had died. One day the snows might melt again and they could go back to the mountains. Meanwhile they lived, the sammads grew larger, the murgu would no longer be a threat when the hesotsan died. Tomorrow’s tomorrow was going to be good. This was a Yilane phrase that they used very often, and when he thought of this his legs arched and his hands shaped the meaning. Armun moaned in her sleep, disturbed by his movements, and he lay still. Forget Yilane, it was enough to be Tanu.
It was an easy trek south along the familiar path. Only twice were they attacked by murgu large enough to need killing with the death-sticks. And they ate well. Whichever of the two hunters was not pulling the travois would slip into the forest. Catch up with them later with a freshly killed marag or deer. They built a fire each night and cooked the fresh meat, ate enough to last them through the next day. In this way they moved steadily south.
When they came to the path that branched off to the other sammads there was some discussion of the possibility of stopping. Hanath and Morgil wanted to trade. Kerrick did not care either way, but Armun was firm.
“No. These sammads may have gone south. If they did not you two can always come back to them. We return to our own sammad. I have children there — and I want to see them.” She looked at Kerrick in a very accusing manner.
“I too, yes. We won’t stop. We go directly to the island.”
The days were growing shorter, the distance that could be traveled in daylight growing less as well. Armun was troubled at their slow progress. She made them start out on the trail before it was light, continue after dark.
“I grow tired,” Hanath said one evening, looking up at the darkening sky. “I think it would be better if we stopped now.”
“I am going on,” she said firmly. “I am tired too — but if we reach the camping place by the stream tonight, then we will be back on the island before dark tomorrow. I will go on by myself if you do not wish to. Give me one of the death-sticks.”
“We go on, we go on,” Hanath muttered leaning his weight against the straps.
It rained during the night but cleared before morning. Armun woke them, laughing at their complaints. But once on the trail they were all eager to return. They did not stop, but instead ate some of the cold meat as they walked. Not drinking anything since they were all able to go without water until dark. Kerrick did not notice the side trail until Morgil pointed it out, pushed newly grown branches aside to turn into it. Before they reached the river crossing they heard shouts ahead and met a hunting party. There were warm greetings and cries of appreciation at the fur and hides. The hunters were happy to help carry these new possessions and they went the faster.
Herilak called a loud greeting as they arrived among the sammads. Malagen came from their tent holding the baby. She laughed and called out to them and Armun seized up Ysel and held her high.
“The Paramutan were there and you traded well,” Herilak said, feeling the softness of the furs.
“Better than you realize, sammadar,” Kerrick said. “There is a thing they make called takkuuk, and we now know how to make it ourselves. It is going to be very important for all the Tanu.”
“Where is Arnwheet?” Armun said, holding the baby tight to her as she looked around at the children who had run up. “Where is he?”
“He is not here — but I know where he is,” one of the boys said. “He goes to the forbidden island by himself and wiggles like this with the marag there.
He shook back and forth, but his laughter turned to a cry of pain as Armun slapped out and sent him sprawling.
“You would not know that if you had not gone there yourself — and that is forbidden. He should not be there alone.” She looked angrily at Kerrick when she said this.
“I will bring him back,” he said, taking up his death-stick. “Walk with me, Herilak, for there are many things to tell you.”
“I will,” he said and went to get his bow and quiver.
“Have we reached the proper place?” Vainte asked, holding the image sheet in the sunlight, then looking from it over to the nearby shore.
“We have,” Akotolp said, touching it with her finger. “We are here. Close to these small islands on the coast. The one you see out there conceals the larger island inland, where the ustuzou lair is.”
“Will the uruketo take us to it?”
“Unhappily, no. The water between the islands is too shallow.”
“Understood. Now where is the place where the Yilane is found?”
“There, on that island facing the sea.”
“Then that is where we will land. We will speak with her. The ustuzou creatures are deadly. When we attack them it will be only to kill them. She will be able to help me, tell me if the one I seek is here, aid me in finding him. The others can live or die, it does not matter to me. It is his death that I must have.” She signed brusque instructions to Elem. “Towards that island, go close. Order Enge up here.”
They were just outside the breakers when Enge joined them on top of the fin.
“Swim to the shore,” Vainte commanded. “Akotolp will go with you. Do not forget that she brings her hesotsan. I will join you with mine. If Elem has any thoughts of leaving once we are on the beach we will kill you. Is that understood?”
Enge signed understanding of filth, rejection of speaker, then climbed down to the uruketo’s back. She was in the water and swimming towards shore long before the gasping Akotolp could follow. She made no attempt to escape knowing that Vainte would kill those in the uruketo if she did. Instead she waited on the beach until Akotolp arrived. Vainte, swimming swiftly, was close behind her. “I go first,” she said. “Stay close behind me.” She climbed slowly up the dune, her sharp claws digging deep. Tough grass was rooted on the summit; she stopped and parted it slowly to see what lay on the other side. Halted, motionless, with only her hand behind her signing sharp communication of silence. Looked down at the two figures below her, listened as they talked.
“Try it again,” Arnwheet said, holding the hardalt by one tentacle, holding it before Nadaske.
“Grardal’,” Nadaske said, holding his hand out at the same time just as Arnwheet was doing.
“Not grardl’,” Arnwheet said. “Hardalt, just hardalt — and don’t hold your arm out like that.”
“You did.”
“Of course I did. But when you talk Marbak you do not move, just make the sound.”
“Stupid/ugly speech. Fit only for ustuzou.” Nadaske caught the movement from the bank above, looked with one eye — dived forward towards the shelter.
“Instant cessation of motion,” Vainte ordered, striding down the slope. “If you have a hesotsan in there touch it only if you wish to die. Emerge — empty of hand!”
Nadaske turned slowly, reluctantly, came into the sunlight again with his hands hanging limply at his sides. Vainte looked at him closely, leaned forward and sniffed with delight.
“It is a male! One of a familiar aspect.”
