“We will do more than that, Sanone. We know about them now. You will have your best trackers go north and south along the coast to find their base. When we have found them—then we will kill them. And for that we will need help. The sammadar who lives for the death of the murgu. We need those Tanu hunters, their knowledge of the forests and their strength. You must find your two strongest runners, who can go day after day and still keep on. Send them north to find the Tanu, to get the message to Herilak that he must join us with all the hunters he can bring. If he is told there are murgu for the killing—then he’ll come.”

“Winter is here and the snows are deep in the north. They would never reach the sammads. Even if they did the hunters might not leave in the depths of winter. You ask too much, Kerrick, ask Sasku to die without reason.”

“Death may be here already. We need their aid. We must get it.”

Sanone shook his head unhappily. “If we are to die then we will die. Where Kadair leads we can only follow. He brought us here for his reasons. Here we must stay for we came in the mastodon’s footsteps. But I cannot ask Sasku to die in winter snow just for an idea. In the spring it will be different. We will decide then what must be done. All we can do now is try to divine Kadair’s will.”

Kerrick started to speak in anger—then controlled himself. He was not quite sure just what Kadair did will, except he always seemed to will it when the old man needed his arguments reinforced. Yet there was truth in what he said. Sasku might not get through where Tanu could, they were not used to the winter. And even if they did—there was no way to be sure that Herilak would answer his call for help. They would have to wait until spring.

If they had that much time.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

South of the city, south of the river, the swamps began. Here the tangled jungle and marsh came down almost to the ocean’s edge, made walking impossible except along the beach. Just above the surf line, long-legged sea birds were tearing at a dead hardalt that had been washed ashore. They suddenly took alarm and hurled themselves into the air, flying and screeching in circles as the two Sasku came warily along the beach. Their white headbands were each daubed with a spot of ochre to show that they were on a very serious mission. They did not seem happy about it. They looked at the jungle wall with obvious fear, pointing their death-sticks at invisible threats. As they passed the corpse of the hardalt Meskawino looked at it with disgust.

“It was better in the valley,” he said. “We should have stayed there.”