“It is better to be warm.”

“It is—and that is why we are here. We can no longer live in the north because of the snow that never melts. But here in the south there are the murgu. Murgu we can kill and eat, murgu we must kill before they eat us.” Arnwheet scarcely noticed when Kerrick continued in Yilanè. “And then there are Yilanè like Nadaske. They are not efenselè like him but would kill us all if they could. Because of this we have to know about them, must be on our guard against them. Once I was the only Tanu who could talk to them. Now there are two of us. One day you will be sammadar and you will do what I do now. We must know them. We need their hèsotsan if we are to live here. This is a very important thing that you must do one day. And only you can do it.”

Arnwheet wriggled uncomfortably and dug his toes into the sand. He could hear what his father was telling him, but could not understand the full import of the words. He was only a very small boy.

Kerrick climbed to his feet and brushed off his legs. “Now we see our friend Nadaske, bring him the meat and he will sing songs for us. And on the way strong hunter will keep his bow drawn and perhaps we can bring fresh-killed meat as well.”

Arnwheet gave one whoop of delight as he seized up his bow and nocked the arrow to it. Then he slitted his eyes and crouched low, as all good hunters did on the trail, and slipped silently up the tussocked hill. Kerrick followed after, wondering if the boy had understood anything that he had said. If not now, he would one day. The time would come when Kerrick would be dead and Arnwheet would be a hunter, a sammadar. The responsibility would then be his.

Nadaske was on the shore staring out to sea, turned and signed pleasure when Kerrick called out attention to speaking. Then signed pleasure multiplied when Kerrick gave him the meat. He sniffed the bundle and added another modifier of greater amplitude.

“Small-wet who is no longer small nor wet, efenselè Kerrick, meat of great pleasure. It has been too long since we last talked.”

“We are here now,” Kerrick said, knowing it had been a long time, not wanting to discuss it. He turned and found a bush thick enough to have a dark shadow beneath it. The sand was still very warm and he brushed the surface layer away to uncover the cooler sand below, then placed the hèsotsan into the shallow pit. No one knew how the disease had spread from one of them to the other, or if it had indeed spread that way. They still took every precaution and never let another hunter touch their hèsotsan, never brought one of the weapons near another.