“There is no trouble with your charges?” Vaintè asked in sudden fear. Ikemend, her efenselè, had been appointed to the vital position of guarding and sheltering the males. After the briefest session of questioning the previous guardian had revealed that it was her lack of control that had resulted in all the deaths on the beach. She had sickened and died when Vaintè had stripped her of her name.

“All is well. But the males have heard about the dead ustuzou and want to see it. Should they be permitted?”

“Of course—they are not children. Let them think about their responsibilities. But not until the ambesed is clear. We don’t want any hysterical scenes.”

Ikemend was not the only one seeking her attention. Enge blocked her way, nor would she move when ordered aside.

“I have heard what you plan to do, follow and kill the fur-beasts.”

“What you have heard is correct. I am going to make the public announcement now.”

“Before you do that—there is something that I must tell you. I cannot support you. None of the Daughters of Life can. It goes contrary to everything that we believe in. We cannot be a part of this killing. Base animals are as they are because they lack the knowledge of death. To destroy them because of this is not possible. We kill when we must eat. All other killing is forbidden. Therefore you understand that we cannot . . .”

“Silence! You will do as I order. Anything else will be treason.”

Enge answered her rage with cold reason. “What you call treason we call the gift of life. We have no recourse.”

“I do. I can have you all killed at once.”

“You can. Then you will be the murderess and the guilty one as well.”

“I have no guilt—just anger. And hatred and loathing that an efenselè of mine could betray her race in this manner. I won’t kill you because I need your bodies for hard work. Your people will be chained together until we return. You will be chained with them. You have no more special privileges. I disown you as an efenselè. You will work with them and die with them. Disowned and loathed for your treachery. That is your fate.”

Alitha thurlastar, hannas audim senstar, sammad deinarmal na mer ensi edo.

The deer is killed, a man may die, a woman grows old—only the sammad endures.

CHAPTER SEVEN