“He should not go near them, disgusting. I will see that Darras plays with him more. When do we go back to the sammads?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.” To her in the darkness he admitted his worries and fears, held tight to her, as she to him. “The valley is distant and the murgu will be watching all of the trails. How can we escape them? Ortnar cannot walk. And I do not think he would go with us if he had to ride like an infant in the travois. I think that he would walk into the forest alone if he had to go that way. What would that leave us? Children—and one half-grown boy who is probably the best hunter here, better than I am I know.”

“I have a strong arm and a good spear.”

“I know.” He held her, smelling the freshness of her hair. “Your strength is my strength. But you know as little of hunting as I do. We will need food. The hunting is good here, Harl gets what we need, and we have the fish in the lake. But it would be a long and hard trail if we left. I think we have been on enough trails like that. Far too many.”

“Then you want us to stay here?”

“I don’t know what I want, not yet. When I try to think about it I feel a knot of pain and my thoughts twist away. But now we are safe here. We must take time to decide what to do. And the sammads, I think about them too, and wonder if there is anything we can do to help them. The murgu will be after them.”

“Their hunters are strong. They can take care of themselves. It is not yours to worry about,” she said.

It was a true and practical answer. She understood his feelings—but did not share his sense of responsibility for all the others. What she had received in her life she had fought for. He, their son, this tiny sammad, this was her world and the only thing of any importance to her. To live in peace with them, to survive, that was her only desire. The sammads were not her concern.

Nothing was that simple and straightforward for Kerrick. He rolled and turned and finally fell asleep.