“The smallest amount is too much. They must be stopped. And they will be. I bring more fargi, trained in the use of their weapons. The ustuzou will be followed and killed.”

“They are hard to track,” Stallan said doubtfully. “They have an animal’s skill in the forest and leave no sign of their passing. Or if there is a trail it leads only to an ambush. Many fargi have died that way.”

“No more,” Vaintè said, and expressed pleasure as the raptor screeched as though in response. Its cage had been brought forward by its handlers and the bird was now preening its feathers in the sunlight.

“All will be explained,” Vaintè said. “This flying creature will enable us to find the ustuzou den where they hide their cubs and females. But first I want the reports in detail of everything that has passed while I have been away.”

The raptor recovered quickly from the sea voyage: Vaintè waited impatiently for the next ustuzou raid. When the report reached her she issued rapid orders and went at once to the outlying pasture where the attack had occurred. Stallan was there first, pointing out with disgust the butchered corpses on the blood-stained grass.

“Wasteful. Just the rich hindquarters have been taken.”

“Very practical,” Vaintè said, showing little emotion. “Easy to carry, little to waste. Which way have they gone?”

Stallan indicated the opening that had been torn in the thorn fence, the trail beyond that vanished under the tall trees.

“North, as always. An easy trail to follow which means we were meant to see it. The meat is gone and only death, traps, and ambushes will be on that trail if we dare to follow it.”

“The bird will go where we cannot,” Vaintè said as the raptor was brought up. The captive creature screamed angrily and tore at the shackle that held its leg. It was not caged now but sat instead on a wooden perch mounted on a platform. Long poles supported this so that the fargi that carried it could not be reached by claw or beak. Kerrick arrived at the same time, wondering at this early summons.

“Do your work,” Vaintè ordered the handlers.

Kerrick found himself suddenly no longer a spectator as hard thumbs seized him and dragged him forward. The raptor was excited by the sight and smell of the bleeding carcasses, screeching and flapping its wings thunderously. One of the handlers carved a lump of flesh from the flank of a butchered beast and threw it towards the bird. It seized the red meat greedily with its free foot, clamped it to the perch with its claws and tore bloody gobbets from it. Only when it was done did they continue. Kerrick struggled as he was pushed forward, almost within reach of that gory, hooked beak.

“Follow, find. Follow, find,” the handler shouted, over and over, while they forced Kerrick even closer.