“They’re all dead,” she said with sudden memory, then began to sob. “These murgu killed them all, all except a few captured.”

She sobbed even louder and there was sudden pain in Kerrick’s neck. He seized his collar with both hands as he was dragged away. The noise was disturbing Inlènu* in her sleep and she rolled away from it, pulling Kerrick after her. After that he did not try to talk again.

In the morning he was slow to waken. His head felt heavy, his skin warm. He must have been in the sun too much the day before. He found the water containers and was drinking thirstily when Stallan approached him.

“The Eistaa has informed me that you talk with the other ustuzou,” she said. There was a wealth of rich loathing behind the concept of bestial communication that she used.

“I am Kerrick who sits close to the Eistaa. Your manner of talk is an insult.”

“I am Stallan who kills the ustuzou for the Eistaa. There is no insult in calling you what you are.”

The hunter was filled with the fullness of the killing today. Her manner was normally as rough as her voice, yet not this venomous. But Kerrick was not feeling well enough to argue with the brutal creature. Not today. Ignoring her movements of superiority and contempt he turned his back on her, forcing her to follow him as he went to the spot where the bound woman lay.

“Speak to it,” Stallan ordered.

The woman shivered at the sounds of Stallan’s voice, turned frightened eyes on Kerrick.

“I am thirsty.”

“I’ll get some water.”

“It writhed and made noises,” Stallan said. “Your noises were just as bad. What was the meaning?”

“It wants water.”

“Good. Give the thing some. Then I will ask questions.”

Ine was frightened of the marag that stood near Kerrick. It stared at her with a cold and empty expression, then moved its limbs and made sounds. Kerrick translated.

“Where are more Tanu?” he asked.

“Where? What do you mean?”

“I am asking for this ugly marag. It wants to know where more are, other sammads.”

“To the west, in the mountains, you know that.”

Stallan was not satisfied with the answer. The questioning continued. After a while, even with his inconsistent knowledge of the language, Kerrick realized that Ine was avoiding clear answers.

“You are not telling all that you know,” he said.

“Of course not. This marag wants to find out where the other sammads are in order to kill them. I will not tell. I will die first. Do you want the thing to know?”

“I do not care,” Kerrick answered truthfully. He was tired—and his head ached. Murgu could kill ustuzou, ustuzou kill murgu, it was nothing to him. He coughed, then coughed again, deep and chesty. When he wiped his wet lips he saw that there was blood in his saliva.

“Ask again,” Stallan said.