“That will not happen either. When we looked at the plan of the land—did you notice the large lake north of here?”

“We call it Round Lake. I have been there.”

“Good. We go there first—if you will lead the way.”

Because of the complaints of Nadaskè and Imehei, and their slow gait, it was not until the third day that they reached the lake. There was swamp to the south of it, but Ortnar knew the path that took them around it to the lakeshore.

“Good fishing here,” Ortnar said. “Hunting as well.”

“All for the best,” Kerrick said. “Because we are leaving the murgu here with a supply of meat. We go on alone. We will go faster that way.”

“We do not kill them? I cannot understand this.”

“I won’t kill them—because they are my friends. And they are of my sammad. They do not ask me to kill you.”

Ortnar found this difficult to understand. “But you are Tanu—and they are just filthy murgu. I will kill them for you, do not worry.”

“Part of me is filthy murgu too, Ortnar, you must never forget that. I grew up with them—and do not see them as you do. Put aside thoughts of hatred for a short while. Help me make this place safe for them, then we will go on.”

Ortnar looked at the murgu: one of them yawned and he stepped back at the sight of the rows of conical teeth. “If this is what you want, sammadar, then I will help you. But I cannot lie and say that I like it—or even understand your reasons for doing this thing.”

“Thank you for your help—that is all I ask. Now let me tell them what has been decided.”

Kerrick waited until the screams of agony had turned to wails of despair before he silenced them.

“Wet-from-ocean—or fearless-males? Which are you? Here is your opportunity to live, to be free of the females and the hanalè. To be strong and independent. We will build a shelter against the rain. Before we go you will be shown how to use the hèsotsan, to hunt and to fish. And when I return from the north I will come for you. Meanwhile all you have to do is stay alive.” They trembled with fear. “A female could do it,” he added maliciously.

Ortnar cut branches with his knife to make a shelter, then cut poles to place them upon. The two Yilanè watched him with great interest.

“I could do that as well, even better,” Nadaskè said. “Ustuzou hands are clumsy, not enough thumbs.”

“Try it then,” Kerrick said, passing over his flint knife. Ortnar saw the motion and jumped away from them, his own knife ready before him. Kerrick sighed.