“Conscripted?”
“Yes. It’s the Utuku custom to force young warriors and females to join their army.”
Julius shook his head. “Sounds like a chancy proposition to me. What’s to keep them loyal?”
“They are required to participate in a ceremony which guarantees they will not go back to their old tribe.”
Julius turned even paler. “I don’t think I want to hear this.”
“Yes. They are forced to eat their tribespeople in the victory feast.”
He looked away. “I knew I didn’t want to hear it.”
“You must, Julius. As Ushulubang said, there is the danger of the future—and the peril of the present. The entire Papti Plain is now open to the Utuku. They will be sweeping across it like army ants. With nothing between them and us but the slopes of the Chiton. And whatever army we can build to defend those slopes.”
“Maybe they’ll turn south.”
“Toward the prevalates?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Neither does Ushulubang. The Beak of the Utuku is reputed to be cold and calculating, as well as vicious. As powerful as the Utuku have become, they are still not ready to match flails with the Anshac. Not yet. They will need to consolidate their rule over the Papti first. And in order to do that, the Beak will see to the elimination of any possible threat in the vicinity. Such as demons living on the mountain that overlooks the plain.”
She stared out the hut.
“Where are you, Joseph?” she whispered.
Chapter 19
To her relief, Joseph returned the next day. With, for the first time since he began the raids, a prisoner.
That is easily the biggest gukuy I have ever seen, except a mother, thought Indira, gazing at the figure on the litter. Also, if I’ve learned to assess gukuy standards of beauty, the ugliest.
Then she noticed the small figure of the male inside the warrior’s mantle cavity.
That’s strange. The males usually don’t associate closely with warriors. I wonder what happened to his mate?
The female gukuy was unconscious, and horribly injured. Her left eye was a ruin, and there were two great puncture wounds on her mantle.
Spear wounds.
Nor was the gukuy the only injured member of the returning expedition. Jens Knudsen had been hurt as well. But it was merely a flesh wound, Indira was relieved to see.
“Merely,” she thought ruefully. God, how this life has changed us all.
Maria De Los Reyes was examining the wounded gukuy, with a fierce frown on her face.
“Why didn’t you just dismember her completely, while you were at it?” she demanded crossly.
“Can you save her life?” asked Jens.
Somewhat hesitantly, Maria nodded. “I think so. Her mantle cavity’s obviously infected, but those poultices you put on the wounds have probably kept her from dying. It’ll be touch and go, but—if this warrior’s as tough as she looks, she’ll survive.”
Joseph smiled. “She’s even tougher. Judging, at least, from the damage she caused—four wounded, two of them with broken bones.”
Indira stared at the unconscious gukuy on the litter.
“All those injuries were caused by her? Alone?” She was genuinely shocked. Since the very first fight with slavers, none of Joseph’s expeditions had suffered more than minor wounds to one or two warriors.
“All. The other slavers died like papakoy. This one—was terrible.”
Jens winced and held up his right arm, which was heavily bandaged. “That’s where I got this. She damn near tore my arm off. Her name’s Nukurren, by the way, and—”
“Why did you let her live, then?” demanded Indira. “You’ve never done that before with any slavers you caught.”
For a moment, the faces of the young human warriors assumed an expression which Indira had not seen on them for a long time. Uncertainty, hesitation; almost childlike confusion.
“I’m—not sure,” replied Joseph. “Partly it was because one of the owoc slaves insisted.”
“What?”
Ludmilla nodded vigorously. “It’s true, Indira. We were astonished. Of course, the owoc are never—” She hesitated.
Bloodthirsty. Like we are.
“But still, I’ve never seen an owoc show any real concern for a slaver. As long as we bury the bodies. But the owoc was quite firm about it. She said this one was different.”