Two of the injured fargi died during the voyage. Their only other losses were the pilotless and wounded boats which drifted off one by one during the nights that followed. Only Stallan’s strength of will and firm command kept the survivors together until they finally reached familiar waters. It was midday when they passed some fishing boats, then rounded the headland that opened out into the harbor of Alpèasak. Their approach must have been seen and their depleted numbers noted, for there was no committee of welcome at the harbor when they arrived. It was deserted save for a single figure, Etdeerg who was now fulfilling the functions of Eistaa. She stepped forward when Stallan climbed from the boat, but said nothing. It was Stallan who spoke first in a most formal manner.

“When we stopped one day on a beach we were attacked during the night by the ustuzou. They move well in the dark. There was nothing we could do to defend ourselves. You see here the only survivors.”

Etdeerg looked coldly at the fargi who were urging the boats towards their pens. “This is a disaster,” she said. “Did this happen before or after you made your own attack on the ustuzou?”

“Before. We gained nothing. Lost everything. I did not expect an attack, I posted no sentries. I am at fault. I die now if you order me to.”

Stallan did not breathe as she waited, unmoving. Death was just a single, short command away. She looked stolidly out to sea, but one eye rolled back to watch Etdeerg.

“You will live,” Etdeerg finally said. “Although you are at fault there is still need of your services in Alpèasak. Your death is not yet.”

Stallan signaled acceptance and gratitude and her relief was clear.

“How could this possibly have happened?” Etdeerg asked. “Such a disaster is beyond my understanding.”

“Not beyond mine,” Stallan said, hatred and anger in every motion of her body. “It is very clear to me how it was done.”

A movement caught her eye; she stopped speaking and turned to face the city as the palanquin was carried from beneath the trees. Four large fargi moved smoothly beneath its weight, while the fat figure of Akotolp waddled after them. The fargi placed the palanquin carefully on the ground and stepped back. Akotolp hurried up behind it, mouth wide open, then bent over the figure that rested there.

“You are to move only slightly, speak little, for there is still danger,” Akotolp said.