“It is done!” Lanefenuu roared with anger, all patience vanished. The watchers fled. “You wish to disobey me? Then you will have death as my last order—an order you cannot disobey. Die, outcast, die!”

Vaintè turned and stumbled away, Lanefenuu a step behind her, crest livid and shaking with rage.

“What is this? You do not die! You who hated them have become one of them. You are a Daughter of Destruction. A deathless one, an outcast. You have joined the ranks of those you once loathed. I will have you killed. Attention to orders all present.”

The fleeing Yilanè stopped, turned, fingered their weapons. Cold reason cut through Vaintè’s anger; she turned quickly to Lanefenuu, her back to the others, spoke the sounds softly and moved her limbs with the minimum needed to communicate.

“Great Lanefenuu, Eistaa of Ikhalmenets who rules from strength, Vaintè who served you abases herself. I obey your instructions always.”

“You did not obey the order to die, Daughter of Death,” she hissed.

“I would, but I cannot. I live to serve you.”

“I doubt that. I will order you killed.”

“Do not chance it.” There was cold menace now as Vaintè spoke. “There are Yilanè here who have forgotten Ikhalmenets, who have served me faithfully, who might even see me as their eistaa. Let us not tempt their loyalty—it might be a very dangerous thing to do.”

Lanefenuu was swollen with cold anger, ready to burst, looking at the deadly creature before her, weighing her threat. Looking at the same time at the troubled Yilanè below them. Remembering the threat to Ikhalmenets that had brought her here so far from her sea-girt city. There could be much truth in what this Yilanè of venom had said. When Lanefenuu finally spoke she did so as silently as the other.

“You live. For the moment you live. We return to Ikhalmenets and you will leave with me. I do not trust you here when I am not present. The war against the ustuzou will end. Nor will I have you again in my city. You are banished from Gendasi*, from Alpèasak, from my presence forever. If I could hurl you into the sea I would do that. I will not take that chance for others would know. You will be landed alone—very much alone—on the shore of Entoban*, far from any city of the Yilanè. You will be as a fargi again. That is what I will do and that is your fate. Do you have anything to say?”

What Vaintè felt she dare not say—or one of them would have to die. She could not chance it. So rigidly under control was her body now that her muscles vibrated with the strain as she raised her thumbs and signed acceptance.