CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“A swift attack along the river,” Vaintè said. “First a sudden sweep over the rock barrier killing any of the ustuzou that might be concealed there. Then on into the valley. Order the fargi forward, but do not lead them yourself. There is a possibility that the ustuzou are aware of our movements. If they are, then the first attackers will die. Begin.”

The massed fargi advanced along the river bank. They became so crowded forcing themselves through the narrow gap that some of them were wading in the water. Vaintè watched them leave, then settled back on her tail and waited with unmoving patience for the outcome. Behind her the rest of the fargi dismounted and began to unload the supplies. They had scarcely finished before Stallan came wearily out of the valley and walked slowly up to the silent Vaintè.

“Lying in concealment,” Stallan said. “We fired but there was no way to tell if we had hit any of them. The first attackers died as you said they might. We retrieved the hèsotsan of the dead, as many as we could, before we drew back from the engagement. I prepared a defensive line out of range of their weapons and came here at once.”

Vaintè did not appear to be surprised by this unwelcome report.

“They knew that we were coming. That is why they went to the valley. Now I will see for myself.”

Stallan pushed her way through the milling fargi, ordering them to move aside for their sarn’enoto. Beyond them the river swung around the rock face and it was here that Stallan had placed the defending position. Fargi crouched behind rocks, weapons ready, while others dug protective trenches in the soft sand. Stallan raised her hèsotsan and pointed it at the bend.

“It is now time for caution. I will go first.”

They advanced slowly, then stopped. Stallan waved Vaintè forward to join her. “You can see the barrier from here.”

Vaintè moved carefully forward and the first of the bodies came into view. There were many more of them sprawled at the base of the tumbled rocks, while a few had climbed up a few paces before they fell. The river swung around the barrier, burbling swiftly through the narrow passage. There were other fargi corpses there as well, some lying half in and half out of the water. On the summit of the barrier there were quick movements. The enemy lay in wait. Vaintè looked up at the sun, still high in the sky, before she moved back.

“We will attack again. If I remember correctly the hèsotsan can survive under water.”

“They can survive. Their nostril flaps close when they are submerged.”

“I thought so. Here is what we will do. An attack on the barrier will be launched. I do not want it to stop when a few fargi are killed.”

“It will not be easy. It will be certain death for many.”

“Nothing is easy, Stallan, or we would all be eistaa without fargi to serve us. You know that the Daughters of Death will not fight?”

“I have taken their weapons from them.”

“Good. But they can still serve in their own way. They will lead the attack on the barrier.”

As the meaning sank in Stallan’s lips pulled slowly back to display rows of sharp teeth, exposed to show the sharpness of the decision as well as her great appreciation of it.

“You are first and wisest in everything, great Vaintè. Their bodies will draw many of the darts of death so the armed fargi can get through. You are the only one who could have found a way to exact such a great service from these burdensome creatures. It will be done just as you have ordered. The ustuzou and the Daughters of Death will die together. What fitting companions they are for this fate!”

“There is more to the attack than that. We might overwhelm them in that manner but the losses would be heavy. While this attack is being pressed forward I want armed fargi in the water, swimming through that gap. They will strike the defenders from behind, kill them, distract them. Then we will sweep over the barrier and destroy the rest.”

The flies were already swarming over the tumbled bodies on the rocks below. Nothing moved other than the flies, their buzzing loud in the silence. Kerrick took a handful of darts and began to push them, one by one, into the hèsotsan.

“They have run away,” Sanone said, cautiously raising his head to look.

“The fight hasn’t started yet,” Kerrick said. “They were just probing to test our strength. They’ll be back.” He turned to look at Sanone and froze. “Don’t move! Stay where you are.”

He reached out a steady hand and plucked the dart from Sanone’s headscarf. “If this had gone through you would be dead.”

Sanone looked down calmly at the deadly bit of thorn and leaf. “Our cloth has values I never thought of. It will not stop a spear — but is proof against this inurgu poison. Perhaps we should wrap ourselves thickly and survive in that manner.”

Kerrick threw the dart away. “That is why we are safe behind these boulders. Only when the darts fly like leaves in the autumn will we be in danger.”

He turned to look at the hunters sprawled along the top of the barrier. They were all armed with hèsotsan and had made good use of them, conserving their arrows and spears. The spear-armed Sasku were on the rear of the barrier and on the ground, ready for support if they were needed. Now all that they could do was wait.

Herilak stood on the summit of the rock wall and was the first to see the attackers.

“They come again,” he called out, then dropped into concealment himself.

“Do not waste darts,” Kerrick ordered. “Let them get closer this time before you fire.”

He knew that this was the correct thing to do. When the first attack had come someone had fired his hèsotsan far too early when the murgu were still out of range, and the others had begun firing as well. This was a waste: the supply of darts was adequate, but the hèsotsan tired and did not react quickly when used too much. This time the defenders would wait until the fargi were climbing the rocks.

They were closer now — and Kerrick suddenly realized that those in front were unarmed. What did this mean? Was it a trick of some kind? It did not matter, in fact it was better for it made them easier to kill.

“Now, fire, now!” he cried out, squeezing his hèsotsan and sending death biting into the skin of the nearest attacker. The Tanu were shouting and firing and still the enemy came on. There was an occasional scream, but for the most part they died in silence. It was the defenders who were making the noise so much so that Kerrick did not hear the voice calling out at first. Then he made out the words.

“The river, there, in the water!”

Kerrick turned, stared, recoiled. Dark spots in the rushing water, more and more of them, some being swept towards the bank. Yilanè, swimming with the flow, dark lengths in their hands, hèsotsan, coming ashore…

“Spears, arrows, kill them in the water!” Herilak called out, leaping down from the barrier, his great voice rising above all the other sounds. “Kerrick, stay there with the killing-sticks. They will attack now in force. Stop them there.”

Kerrick turned away with an effort, saw that Herilak had divined the enemy’s intentions well. Behind the unarmed attackers, now heaped in piles of dead, more and more fargi appeared, firing as they came.

“Don’t let them through!” Kerrick shouted. “Stay here, keep firing.” He fired himself, then fired again, the fargi so close that he saw the dart grow suddenly from her throat, saw her eyes widen as she fell backwards down the slope.

Now the living were climbing over the dead, using them for cover, firing themselves. The battle was no longer one-sided. One hunter was hit, then another. Kerrick’s hèsotsan writhed in his hands when he squeezed it and it took him long moments to realize that it was empty of darts. And there was no time to reload. He seized up his spear, stabbed upwards at the fargi who had clambered to the top, sent her falling backwards and shrieking with pain.