Kerrick shook his head in disbelief when he saw that Nadaske had forgotten his hesotsan. The weapons were essential for survival — and he had forgotten his, simply walked away from it. A surer measure of his grief than anything that he might have said. Kerrick used twisted grass to lash it into a loose bundle with the three other weapons that the hunters had brought. The extra hesotsan would be needed: at least this much good had come out of this terrible encounter. He seized up his own weapon, took a slow look around in case he had missed anything, then started back along the shore.
Now that he had time to think one fact became painfully clear. They must get away from this lake, all of them. If Yilane hunters could come here, as these indeed had, then the sammad was too close to the city. Others might come looking for these three. Even if they did not come the camp was still too close. One day it would be discovered and then it would be too late. They must go north. But they would have to wait until the baby was born. Armun was in no state to travel now. After the birth, when Armun had recovered, then they would leave. It would not be easy. He had been right to kill the mastodon that had brought them here; it would have been impossible to hide and would have been seen by the flying creatures that sought them out. But he missed it now. Never mind. They would take only what they could carry. He would make a travois and pull it himself. Harl was big enough and strong enough now to pull one as well. All Ortnar had to do was move himself along. He did it, not well, but at least he did it.
Something dark moved under the trees ahead. Kerrick bent double and ran quickly to shelter among the shrubs. There were murgu concealed there, silent killers. He slipped forward with his weapon raised and ready.
Until he realized that he was looking at the two male Yilane. One of them stretched out and resting, the other sitting up at his side.
“Attention to presence,” he called out, stood and strode forward.
Nadaske just turned one eye enough to look at Kerrick, then slowly away again. Otherwise he did not speak or move. Imehei lay at his side, eyes closed, immobile.
“What is it?” Kerrick asked.
Nadaske replied with an effort, and when he did his meaning was muffled with palpable sadness.
“He has gone to the beach. The eggs are in his pouch.”
“I do not understand.”
“That is because although you are male you are not Yilane male. You ustuzou order things differently. You have told me that your females carry the eggs, though I do not really understand how this can be possible. But you saw what happened to him this day. They did it to him. Now the eggs are in his pouch and his eyes are closed in the sleep that is not sleep. He will be like that until the eggs hatch and the young go into the water.”
“Is there anything we can do to stop this?”
“Nothing. Once it begins it must go to the end. He will remain like this until the hatching.”
“Will he… die?”
“Probably yes, probably no. Some die, some live. We can only wait. He must be taken back and cared for, fed and watched over. I must do that for him.”
“Do we carry him?”
“No. The water. He must be in the water, the warm water of the birth beach. That is so the eggs will mature and hatch. If they die now he dies as well. This thing must run its course. Help me take him into the lake.”
Imehei was unconscious, heavy, hard to move. Working together they struggled with his torpid body to the shore and dragged it through the reeds. Once in the water he would be easier to pull along.
Kerrick helped until the lake deepened enough so that Nadaske was able to swim. He grasped Imehei under the shoulders and kicked with his stout legs, making slow but steady progress. Kerrick waded ashore, seized up the hesotsan and moved quickly off. It was late and he wanted to get back to their camp before dark.
They were waiting for his return. Armun looked down the path behind him and saw it empty. She nodded approval.
“Good. You have killed the murgu. It was time.”
“No, they are still alive. At least for the present.” How could he explain to them what had happened — when he was not sure about it himself? “There were murgu hunters from the city out there, three of them. I killed one, Nadaske killed the other two. Imehei is — hurt, unconscious. Nadaske is bringing him back.”
“No!” Armun screamed. “I hate them, hate them here, don’t want them here again.”
“There are more important things for us to talk of and we need not concern ourselves with them now. What is important is that we are no longer safe in this place. If hunters from the city could come this far they are sure to be followed by others. One day they will come.”
“They came because of those two, their own kind, you must kill them quickly…”
Kerrick’s temper rose to meet hers, but he controlled it because he knew why she was so disturbed. The baby was late, she was sick, worried. He had to understand. She needed reassuring.
“It will be all right. We must wait until the baby is born, until you feel better. Then we will all leave here, go north, we cannot stay if the hunters are this close.”
“And what of these two murgu you care so much for?”
“They stay here. We go without them. That is enough now. I am hungry and want food. And look at this — we have three more death-sticks. It will be all right.”
All right for them, he thought as he chewed the cold meat. But what about the males? They must stay here. With Imehei immobile in the lake it would be impossible for them to leave. Yet the rest of his sammad must go as soon as possible. That was all there was to it. There was no choice.
It was late in the afternoon of the next day before Nadaske finally appeared with Imehei in tow. He was exhausted and moved one slow stroke at a time, floating and resting often. Kerrick took up Nadaske’s hesotsan and went to help him, stopping Arnwheet when he tried to follow. The boy did as he had been ordered, stood and gnawed his knuckles, worried and insecure, knowing only that something bad had happened to his friends. He watched in unhappy silence as the unconscious Imehei was dragged up onto the shore, until his head rested on the sand with the lower part of his body still in the water.
Kerrick thought that he was unconscious until his lips moved and he said something with languid motions of his arms. It was as though he were talking in his sleep for his eyes never opened.
“Food… desire to eat… hunger.”
Nadaske went to fetch fresh fish from the little holding pond that they had dug with such great effort. He tore pieces from the fish and pressed them into Imehei’s gaping mouth. Who slowly closed his jaws and chewed placidly.
“How long will he be like this?” Kerrick asked.
“A long time. There is no count to the days that I know. Others may know, it is no knowledge that I have.”
“And at the end of that time?”
Nadaske made a shrugging motion of hope/fear, knowledge/ignorance. “The eggs break, the elininyil feed, they enter the lake. Imehei lives or dies. Only then will we know.”
“I am going to have to leave with the others, as soon as Armun can travel, to go north. It will be dangerous to remain here.”
Nadaske rolled one eye in his direction and signed suspected knowledge. “It was my consideration you would do that. Others are sure to follow those who were killed. They may hunt in this direction. I cannot come with you.”
“I know that. But I will come back for you, for both of you, as soon as we have found a safe place.”
“I believe you Kerrick Yilane/ustuzou. I have learned how you feel about these things and I know that you must consider your own ustuzou efenburu first. Take them to safety.”
“We will talk of this again. It will be some days yet before we can leave.”
When Kerrick started back he found that Ortnar had stumbled down to the beach and was waiting for him.
“The baby is coming soon. She told me to tell you that. I know nothing of these things and cannot help you.”
“Guard us from harm, Ortnar, that is what a strong hunter can do. I know as little as you do of these
