It took a long time for him to convince them—but he was firm. His plans were made; he must cross the ocean and find a safe haven for his sammad. He was not going to let these two stand in his way. He forced them to go with him then, but they sat as far from the others as they could, leaning against each other, filled with fear.

Kerrick stood between the two groups. He looked at the two Yilanê males to one side, rigid with terror—or at least pretending to be. On the other side Ortnar sat slumped against a tree and glowered. The rest of the Tanu beside him seemed accustomed to the murgu now, particularly when Arnwheet crossed over and showed Imehei his latest treasure, a bone whistle that Ortnar had made. And there were no weapons present, he had seen to that.

It was going to be all right. It had to be all right. Perhaps this was only a plan born of desperation. That did not matter. He must see it through.

“What I am going to tell you now is important—to all of us,” he said in Tanu, then turned to the Yilanè.

“A speaking-of-importance. Attention and obedience.”

Then he told them all that Armun and he were going away for a time, but they would be back.

umnuniheikel tsanapsoruud marikekso.

YILANÈ APOTHEGM

Good meat cannot be prepared without the death of a beast.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“And what are these,” Vaintè asked, laying the pictures out on the work area before her.

“Just received—just formed,” Anatempè said, sorting the prints in order in a line, then pointing at the nearby model of the Gendasi* landscape with her thumb. “A high-flying bird which went along this part of the coastline here, almost due west of us. The fleeing ustuzou could be along the shore here.”

“But nothing is visible!” Vaintè made sharp snapping motions of disgust and annoyance. “There are only clouds in the picture.”

“Unhappily that is true. But another bird has been dispatched—”

“And by the time it gets there the ustuzou will be long gone. I want them—not pictures of clouds!” Her hands shook with the violence of her emotions and she dashed all of the pictures to the ground with a sweep of her thumbs.

“I control the birds, but cannot control the clouds,” Anatempè said, as meekly as she could, yet some of her true feelings penetrated her movements. She no longer enjoyed being the butt of Vaintè’s foul moods. Vaintè saw this and her anger became cold and dangerous.

“You take issue with my orders? You find them offensive?”

“I obey your orders implicitly for I have been ordered to do so by Ukhereb who obeys the Eistaa. I seek only to do my duty.” This last spoken with modifiers of eternal-service, obedience.