Stallan was as concerned by the picture as Vaintè had been. “Is this the only picture?”

“Yes, I went through them all before Krunat took them away.”

“The picture is at least two days old,” Stallan said, then pointed to the model. “If the ustuzou is still coming south it—or they—could be at this place by now. What are your orders, sarn’enoto?”

“Double the guards around the city. Be sure the alarms are functioning as they should. Then tell me what the terrain is like here. If these creatures are coming towards Alpèasak can you get in front of them, stop them?”

Stallan pointed her joined thumbs at the model, towards the wooded scrubland beyond the city. “Thorn bushes and thick brush here, almost impossible to get through unless the game trails are followed. I know these tracks well. Let the birds fly, the owls will be best, and find where the ustuzou are. When they have been located I will take my best hunters and lay a trap.”

“Do that.” Vaintè’s crest was erect, vibrating. “I think that Kerrick is out there. Only he would have the temerity to come this close to Alpèasak, to bring other ustuzou with him. Kill him for me, Stallan. Bring back his hide. Pin it with thorns to this wall where we can watch it dry.”

“Your wish is my wish, Vaintè. I want this death just as you do.”

“This is the last of the smoked meat,” Kerrick said, using a twig to clear the maggots from the hard lump. “A few of the hunters have ekkotaz left, not very much though.”

Herilak chewed firmly on his leathery fragment of meat, maggots and all. “There is game closer to the city. We’ll have fresh meat then.”

Even here, in the shade of the pine trees, the air was close and hot. Flies buzzed about their heads, landed in the corners of their eyes. It had been a long march, and a tiring one. Yet weary as the hunters were, there were no complaints. Only a few of them were visible beneath the trees, the rest out of sight. But Kerrick knew they were there in the forest, tough and ready. His only fear was that he was leading them to their certain deaths. He had this morbid thought more often now, the closer they came to the city.

“We march,” Herilak said, climbing to his feet and slinging his bow over his shoulder where it rested against the hèsotsan in its carrying bag. The big hunter felt more secure with his spear in his hand when they walked.