‘You haven’t even opened a bag yet, magos,’ he said, gesturing towards the rows of gurneys.

‘Nevertheless,’ said Drusher.

‘Let him continue,’ said Eisenhorn. ‘Magos? Not ursid attacks?’

‘No, sir.’

‘But there was evidence of feeding, Valentin,’ said Macks, bewildered. ‘I mean gross evidence. You always told me to look for–’

‘I think ursids may have fed on them, but they didn’t kill them.’

‘Expand,’ said Eisenhorn.

‘Ursids kill people,’ said Drusher, ‘especially the smaller, more aggressive Ursa minora. But they don’t hunt them for food. An ursid kills a man because they meet by accident. The ursid reacts in surprise, or in defence of young. It kills, swiftly.’

‘Yeah, then it feeds,’ said Macks.

‘Sometimes,’ Drusher replied. ‘Ursids are omnivorous. They will eat flesh, meat of any sort, actually, even human. One might encounter a man, kill him, then feed. Or it might feed on a body if it finds one. But human flesh is not a regular part of its diet. It does not seek it out.’

‘But a rogue animal,’ said Macks. ‘One that’s got a taste for it. I mean, a taste for human flesh. That happens, doesn’t it? You once told me that.’

‘It does,’ said Drusher. ‘It’s very rare. The man-eater syndrome. Often a diseased or wounded animal. One whose aggression is compounded. Multiplied.’

‘So a rogue animal did this?’ asked Nayl.

‘Again, no,’ said Drusher.

‘You can tell that without even looking?’ asked Nayl.

‘You can compare bite prints or something,’ suggested Macks.

‘I can tell it by counting,’ said Drusher. ‘Eighteen bodies. Fifteen male, three female. Perhaps more to come. In a period of a year or two. How many ursids are there in the Karanines?’

Nayl and Macks looked at each other.

‘I’ll tell you–’ Drusher began.

‘Population sparse,’ said Audla Jaff suddenly. ‘As with all major carnivores or apex predators. An ursid’s average feeding ground is three hundred square kilometres. Slightly more for minora. When young are present, the range increases. Thus we might calculate the distributed population of the region, by taking the overall size of the area and dividing by an averaged figure of three hundred. Thus, about one hundred and thirty.’

‘Very good,’ said Drusher.

‘One hundred and thirty ursids in these woods?’ said Nayl.

‘In this province,’ corrected Drusher.

‘Actually, I was allowing for the entire run of the Karanine belt,’ said Jaff.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Macks. ‘One hundred and thirty. That’s a lot of ursids.’

Drusher looked at Jaff.

‘How much does an adult ursid consume in a year, mam?’

‘As much as it can,’ she replied. ‘But conservatively, three times its body weight.’

‘You see?’ said Drusher. ‘One ursid would not have killed and eaten eighteen plus human beings.’

‘Hang on,’ said Nayl, ‘you just said one hundred and thirty of them.’