“Hear me out,” Kerrick said. “If we remain here that will be exactly what they want us to do. It is their plan to attack us in this place. You can be sure that the attack has been worked out in all details and is meant to destroy us. Now we must stop and think of the best way to survive. The beasts they ride, I have never seen or heard of them before. That means nothing. They have the resources of an entire world out there. There are strange creatures beyond counting, murgu we cannot even imagine. But now we know about them, now we are forewarned.” He looked around. “We chose this place to camp because there was water and we could defend ourselves against attack from the river. Do they come by water as well? Did you see any boats?”

“None,” Peremandu said. “The river was empty. They are so many that they need no aid. Their numbers were like the birds when they gather to fly south in the autumn. Like leaves, they could not be counted.”

“Our thorn barrier will be trampled down,” Kerrick said. “So will we. We must leave at once. Go north. We cannot remain here.”

The murmuring died away. No one wanted to speak, for all of this was too unusual, too new. They looked to their leaders. The sammadars looked at Herilak. The decision was his. His face was as grim as theirs, grimmer—for the responsibility now was his alone. He looked around at them, then straightened his back and slammed his spear butt onto the ground.

“We march. The margalus is right. If we stay here it is certain death. If we have to make a stand it will be at the spot of our own choosing. The night is only half gone. We must make the most of the darkness remaining. Strike the tents . . .”

“No,” Kerrick broke in. “That would be a mistake—for many reasons. It will take time, and time is one thing we do not have. If we pack the tents the travois will be heavy laden and that will slow us down. We take our weapons, food and clothing—nothing more.”

The women were listening as well and one of them wailed at this loss.

“We can make new tents,” Kerrick said. “We cannot make new lives. Load the travois with only the things I have said, the babies and small children can ride as well. Leave the tents standing. The murgu will not know that they are empty. They will attack, use up their darts, that will take time. We need all the time that we can get. This is what I tell you to do.”

“Do as the margalus orders,” Herilak said, pointing his spear. “Go.”