Nor was Vaintè rebelling against orders. She was here to receive them. Malsas‹ looked at them both and made her decision.

“The ustuzou must be destroyed. I am the Eistaa and I named Vaintè as sarn’enoto to bring about that destruction. How will you go about accomplishing that, sarn’enoto?”

Vaintè put all thoughts of victory from her, forced herself not to feel the jubilation rising up. Instead she signed simple acceptance of duty, then began to speak.

“All of the ustuzou now avoid the coast where others of their kind have been killed. But once a pack of them came and laid a trap for us. When I see this new pack on the shore I see this same trap again. This means that two things must be done. The trap avoided, the ustuzou trapped instead.”

“How will you go about this?”

“We will leave the city in two groups. Stallan will command the first which will proceed north in boats to attack the ustuzou in the same manner that we have done in the past. Her group will spend the night on the shore before the morning of the attack. I will take the second group in fast uruketo out to sea, out of sight of the shore. We will land to the north of the ustuzou and strike suddenly before they are aware of our presence.”

Malsas‹ signed understanding — but puzzlement as well. “That will rid us of the ustuzou pack, but what is to prevent other ustuzou, who may be in hiding, from attacking and killing Stallan and her fargi during the night, while they sleep on the beaches?”

“The Eistaa shows her wisdom in that most important question. When the ustazou watch Stallan’s landing on the shore they will see only meat and water unloaded. Not until after dark will these supplies be opened to reveal our new night weapons. After this has been done, the Yilanè who are proficient in this operation will board the night-trained boats. If the attack comes the boats will leave; only death will remain on the beach.”

Malsas‹ thought about this, then signed her agreement.

“Do it that way. It is a well-considered plan. I see that you have given much thought to this, Vaintè.”

There was a note of mild admonition in this, that Vaintè while still in doubt about her status, had already been making plans. But it was a very small comment, and a deserved one, and Vaintè did not object. She was sarn’enoto again — that was all that mattered. Still keeping her elation under control, she spoke as calmly as she could.

“There is something else about the force under Stallan’s command that I must tell you about. When we were developing the night weapons we found that there were only a few Yilanè who could operate in the dark, even with lights. It is these specialists who will release the weapons, then follow the light-markers to the boats. The rest of the fargi will have to remain on the shore. If there is an attack there is the strong possibility that all of them will be killed.”

“That is not good,” Malsas‹ said. “Too many fargi are already dead.”

“I know that, Eistaa, I of all people know that. Therefore it is my strong desire to see no more fargi deaths. So I suggest, since they will not be expected to fight, that we replace the fargi with the Daughters of Death. Surely these parasites on the resources of our city should be good for something.”

Malsas‹ was gracious in her show of appreciation for this suggestion, the color of her palms yellow-hued with pleasure. “You are sarn’enoto, Vaintè, because you produce ideas of this nature. Do it, do it at once.”

“The arrangements will be completed this day, the supplies loaded. Both forces will leave at dawn.”

The time was short, but Vaintè had been planning this assault for days, not knowing if she would ever be able to order it, but ready still if that opportunity should come. The hurried preparations were accomplished with the efficiency of all Yilanè cooperative ventures, only Enge causing any difficulties at all. She insisted on talking to Vaintè, was fiercely determined to stay until the audience was granted. She was surprised that her request was instantly granted.

“What are these orders you have issued, Vaintè? What do you wish to do with the Daughters of Life?”

“I am sarn’enoto. You will address me that way.”

Enge drew herself up — then realized that personal pride was not important now.

“From one lowest to one highest, I spoke in haste, sarn’enoto. Please inform me of the nature of your commands.”

“You and your companions will be sent north in boats. You will not be required to use weapons or to kill. We wish only your labors to aid your city.”

“There is more to it than that. You have not told me all of your plans.”

“No, I have not. Nor will I. You eat the food of Alpèasak, you are protected by those who are ready to die for Alpèasak. When your assistance is needed you will do as you are ordered.”

“There is something wrong here and I do not like it. What if we refuse?”

“You will still go. Bound and tied together if necessary, but you will go. Now you will leave my presence. The choice is yours and the decision of no importance to me at all. Leave me. I have much to do.”

Vaintè’s firmness of mind — and indifference to their decision — must have convinced Enge that the Daughters would be bound and loaded that way if they did not do as they had been ordered. In the first light of dawn the Daughters of Life labored to load the supplies aboard the boats, then boarded themselves without further protest.

Vaintè herself made sure that all the night defenses were there, but she turned away instantly when Stallan hurried up with a file of pictures clamped between her thumbs.

“These are the enlarged pictures you ordered, sarn’enoto.”

“Did you see him? Is he with this pack?”

Stallan’s movements were ambiguous. “There is one creature that it might be, but they all have fur, they all look the same to me.”

Vaintè seized the pictures and went through them quickly, throwing them to the ground one by one — until she found what she wanted. She held the picture up in triumph.

“Here, without a doubt, it is Kerrick! The fur has grown back as you said, but that face, there is no mistake. He is there, on that shore, and he shall not escape. You know what you are to do?”

“I do. It is a good plan.”

Having said this, Stallan permitted herself one of her rare demonstrations of good humor. “A very happiness-making plan. It is the first time that I have welcomed an ustuzou attack.”

The loading done, Stallan led the boats north. Only at the end of the day did she discover that all of the effort had been wasted. Although they did everything as planned, sailed all day north to reach the appointed beach at dusk, unloaded and prepared the trap, it was not to be sprung. In the last light of day an uruketo appeared beyond the breakers, the accompanying enteesenat sporting about it. A Yilanè waved for attention from the top of the great fin. Stallan commanded one of the night boats to take her out to it. When she was close the Yilanè called down to her.

“I speak for Vaintè. She tells you to return to Alpèasak in the morning. Bring everything back. The attack is not to go ahead as planned.”

This was the last thing that Stallan expected. She moved in interrogation and dismay.

“The reason,” the Yilanè said, “is that the ustuzou are gone. They have left the beach and returned inland as fast as they can crawl. There are none left for us to destroy.”