“Inlènu*,” she called out, and the great creature shambled forward obediently. “You are to stand in the entrance, fill it with your body and no matter who approaches you will send them away. Do you understand?”

“They go away.”

“Yes, but say it strongly like this. Go away, Vaintè commands. Say it.”

“Go away, Vaintè commands.”

“That is correct. Now do it.”

Inlènu* made a good guardian; there was a scurry of running feet at her ominous presence. Vaintè turned to Kerrick and spoke as Eistaa issuing orders.

“You will now tell me everything about the ustuzou, your kind of ustuzou. Speak.”

“I do not understand the meaning of the Eistaa’s words.”

Vaintè saw his fear and confusion and realized that the question was too general. She must be more specific. “What is the name of your ustuzou city?”

“Ustuzou do not have cities. This is the first city I have ever seen. Ustuzou live in . . .” He searched his memory in vain. It had been so long since he had heard or spoken Marbak that the words would not come. He fell back on description. “Soft structures made of skins, hung over poles. These come apart and the poles are pulled by . . . large animals with hair.”

“Why do they come apart? Why do they move?”

Kerrick shrugged, then wriggled with the effort to put together bits of faded memory. “That is just the way that it is done. You hunt one place, fish another. That is just the way it is done.”

Continued questioning elicited few more answers. The ustuzou seemed to live in groups, like the group they had slaughtered, and there were other groups, but no indication of how many. The unused memories of the boy were vague and uncertain. Vaintè finally had enough of the questioning and stopped it with a single gesture. Now came the important part. She would use fear and reward, train this ustuzou to do what must be done. Her manner changed and she spoke now as Eistaa, she who controlled the life of the city and its inhabitants.

“I can kill you or have you killed at any instant—you know that.”

“I know that.” He trembled with supplication, confused by the sudden change of tone.

“I can also raise you up, see that you are honored and do not always remain an ustuzou, lowest of the low. You would like that, wouldn’t you? To sit by me, to command others to labor for you. I can do that for you—but you in turn must do something for me. Something that only you can do. You must do for me the thing that only you can do.”

“I will do what you ask, Eistaa, but I do not understand what you are saying. I do not know what you are talking about.”