“I greet you and I welcome you to Alpèasak. One of the fargi saw the uruketo and the approach of this boat and reported to me. It was my greatest wish that it be you. My name is Vanalpè, one who serves,” she said formally, making the sign of submission to a superior. She did it in the old-fashioned way, the full double-hand motion, not in the usual and more modern shortened way. After that she stood square-legged and solid, waiting for orders. Vaintè warmed to her at once and on impulse seized her hand in a gesture of friendship.

“I have read your reports. You have worked hard for Alpèasak. Did the fargi tell you anything else  . . . did she speak of the beach?”

“No, just of your arrival. What of the beach?”

Vaintè opened her mouth to speak—and realized that she could not. Since that single scream of pain she had kept her feelings under perfect control. But she felt that now, if she spoke of the slaughter of the males and the young, that her anger and horror would push through. That would not be politic nor help the image of cold efficiency that she always maintained in public.

“Inlènat,” she ordered. “Tell Vanalpè what we found on the beach.”

Vaintè paced down the length of the dock and back, not listening to the voices, planning the order of all the things that she must do. When the voices fell still she looked up and found them both waiting for her to speak.

“Now you understand,” she said.

“Monstrous. The creatures who did this must be found and destroyed.”

“Do you know what they possibly can be?”

“No, but I know one who does. Stallan, who works with me.”

“She is named huntress by design?”

“She is truly named. She alone has ventured into the jungle and forests that surround the city. She knows what is to be found there. Knowing this I have made modifications of the city design that I must give you details . . .”

“Later. Though I am now Eistaa the less pressing duties can wait until something is done about the killings. The city goes well—there are no immediate problems?”

“None that cannot wait. It goes as it should. The fever has been stopped. A few died.”

“Deeste died. Will she be missed?”

Vanalpè was silent, eyes lowered in thought. When she did speak it was obvious that she had considered her responsibilities and weighed her words carefully. “There has been bad-feeling in this city and many say that Deeste was responsible for that. I agree with that opinion. Very few will miss her.”

“Those few . . .?”

“Personal associates. You will quickly discover who they are.”

“I understand. Now send for Stallan and order her to attend me. While we wait show me your city.”