Without realizing it he half-raised the spear and Kerrick pointed to it, smiling coldly.

“Tanu does not kill Tanu—yet you raise your spear.” He waited until Herilak had conquered his anger, lowered his spear, before he spoke again. “I said there would be no death-sticks for hunting in the plains. There is danger in this city and hunters are needed to defend it. The Sasku are here. As they once aided the Tanu I now ask you to aid them in turn. Stay and help them here. There are death-sticks for all.”

“That is not for me to decide. There are other sammadars, and all in the sammads as well.”

“Bring them here. A decision must be made.”

Herilak scowled darkly with anger, yet had no choice. In the end he turned on his heel and stamped away, brushing past Sanone without even a sideward glance.

“There is trouble?” Sanone asked.

Trouble? Armun dead. Kerrick still could not accept this reality. It took an effort to speak to Sanone.

“The sammadars of the Tanu are coming here. I have told them if they want death-sticks they must stay in the city. They must bring the sammads here. We will band together to defend each other—there is no other way.”

Nor was there. The sammadars talked, long and angrily, sucked smoke from the pipe and passed it on. They would decide to stay; they had no other choice. Kerrick did not take part in the discussion, ignored the angry looks from them when Herilak told of his ultimatum. How they felt was of no importance to him. Tanu and Sasku would stay here, would leave only if they were driven out. Through the haze of his troubled and angry thoughts he became aware that a hunter stood before him. It took him a moment to realize that it was Ortnar. When he saw this he waved the hunter forward.

“Here, sit in the shade beside me and tell me about Armun.”

“You have spoken of this to Herilak already?”

“He told me that he ordered her to stay in the encampment, ordered that she not be helped. Yet you went to her aid. What happened?”