“That would mean war again, because there would be a dead marag for every one we took. You all know that I stopped their attack on the valley with a threat. I don’t think I could do that a second time. Whatever we do we must not kill any of the murgu—or let them know that we need more death-sticks.”

There were more questions. They were curious as to how the death-sticks were made.

“Not made, grown. They look like ordinary lizards when they are young, though they have longer bodies than most lizards, are perhaps a little like snakes. They are raised in a place with a swampy pond, walled about so they cannot escape. As they grow older they move about less and less until one day they are as we see them.”

“Could we breed them ourselves?” Merrith asked.

“I don’t think so. When we were in the city I watched them often, tried to understand them, but it is still a secret from me. I don’t even know whether they hatch from eggs or not. When they are young they move about. Then they stiffen and become as we know them as they grow older. They cannot possibly breed then. There may be a third state they pass through that I have never seen, although I looked carefully. It is a murgu secret.”

“This place in the city where the death-sticks are kept,” Herilak said. “You know where it is?”

“I know where it was. Whether it is still there I have no way of telling. When we were in the city much of it was burnt, other parts died. Now that the murgu have returned it will have grown, changed.”

“Still, if we can find the young death-sticks, bring them back here, that will be what we need. We could do that.”

“Not easily . . .”

But Kerrick’s protests were lost in the rush of other voices. A hunting party could do it, find the place. Get more death-sticks, get enough to last them a long time. Kerrick shouted until he was heard.

“This may be a good plan, fine. But what if they are guarded, what if the murgu are there? What then?”

“We kill them!” a hunter cried and there were shouts of agreement.

“Hunters of great stupidity!” Herilak roared. “Do that and the war starts again. You have heard Kerrick. Do that and next time it will be our end. There must be another way.”

Kerrick looked away from them, stared into the fire, yet knew from the silence that they were looking at him, waiting for him to find an answer. He was the one who knew all about murgu, he would find a way. He sighed, stood and turned to face them.

“If the worst happens, if all our death-sticks die, we will need new ones. They have death-sticks in the valley of the Sasku.”