Not that any real thought was needed to command this elderly efenburu. Fishing was the only thing that they did in common; they were all certainly skilled enough in that. When they entered the sea they moved apart, swimming slowly. If a school of fish were seen this fact was remarked upon with the simplest of signals, passed from one to the other and eventually to Vaintè. She would swim in the indicated direction, decide if the school were big enough, the fish of edible interest. If they were she signed attack and they moved in a familiar and reassuring fashion.

When not fishing they did not communicate. When thirsty they drank. When chilled they sought the sun. Like basking lizards they littered the beach and Vaintè found the sight a reassuring one, in no way a disturbance to her mindless peace.

There is a pleasure in companionship, no matter how inarticulate. Day followed day in a repeated pattern that did not require either intelligence or attention. Here, close to the equator, one day was very much like another. At times it rained, usually it didn’t. The sea was filled with fish, the freshwater stream always ran. It was existence, simple and unthinking existence.

This was all that the fargi were capable of. If they thought at all, which was doubtful, they must surely have preferred this to the pressures and confusions of the city.

If Vaintè thought, and she twisted away from it when cogitation came close, she merely took pleasure from her surroundings and her companions.

Dawn followed dusk, dusk followed dawn in stately, unending progression.

Alitha hammar ensi igo vezilin gedda. Sammad geddar o sammadar oapri.

TANU SAYING

A deer cannot have two heads. A sammad has only one sammadar.

ELEVEN

It was raining. A heavy tropical downpour that cascaded ceaselessly from the leaden sky. It drummed so loudly on the stretched skins that they had to raise their voices to be heard.

“Is it ever going to stop?” Armun asked. The baby wailed as the sky split with lightning; thunder rumbled through the trees. Armun opened her clothing and nursed the infant into silence.

“This is the third day now,” Kerrick said. “I don’t think it has ever rained for more than three days at a time. It should stop today, perhaps tonight. The cloud seems to be thinner.”