They cast east from where they had landed, studying the soil of each garden spot, hunting for the unmistakable spoor of the giant reptile. And within a matter of minutes they found it, the mud still moist as Dalgard proved with an exploring finger tip. At the same time Sssuri twirled his spear significantly. Before them the lane ran on between two walls without any breaks. Dalgard uncased his bow and strung it. From his quiver he chose one of the powerful arrows, the points of which were kept capped until use.
A snake-devil, with its nervous system controlled not from the tiny, brainless head but from a series of auxilliary “brains” at points along its powerful spine, could and would go on fighting even after that head was shorn away; as the first colonists had discovered when they depended on the deadly ray guns fatal to any Terran life. But the poison-tipped arrow Dalgard now handled, with confidence in its complete efficiency, paralyzed within moments and killed in a quarter-hour one of the scaled monstrosities.
“Lair-“
Dalgard did not need that warning thought from his companion. There was no mistaking that sickly sweet stench born of decaying animal matter, which was the betraying effluvium of a snake-devil’s lair. He turned to the right-hand wall and with a running leap reached its broad top. The lane curved to end in an archway cut through another wall, which was higher than Dalgard’s head even when he stood on his present elevation. But bands of ornamental patterning ran along the taller barrier, and he was certain that it could be climbed. He lowered a hand to Sssuri and hoisted the merman up to join him.
But Sssuri stood for a long moment looking ahead, and
Dalgard knew that the merman was disturbed, that the wall before them had some terrifying meaning for the native Astran. So vivid was the impression of what could only be termed horror that Dalgard dared to ask a question:
“What is it?”
The merman’s yellow eyes turned from the wall to his companion. Behind his hatred of this place there was another emotion Dalgard could not read.
“This is the place of sorrow, the place of separation. But they paid-oh, how they paid-after that day when the fire fell from the sky.” His scaled and taloned feet moved in a little shuffling war dance, and his spear spun and quivered in the sunlight, as Dalgard had seen the spears of the merwarriors move in the mock combats of their unexplained, and to his kind unexplainable, rituals. “Then did our spears drink, and knives eat!” Sssuri’s fingers brushed the hilt of the wicked blade swinging from his belt. “Then did the People make separations and sorrows for them/ And it was accomplished that we went forth into the sea to be no longer bond but free. And they went down into the darkness and were no more-“ In Dalgard’s head the chant of his friend skirled up in a paean of exultation. Sssuri shook his spear at the wall.
“No more the beast and the death,” his thoughts swelled, a shout of victory. “For where are they who sat and watched many deaths? They are gone as the wave smashes itself upon the coast rocks and is no more. But the People are free and never more shall Those Others put bonds upon them! Therefore do I say that this is a place of nothing, where evil has turned in upon itself and come to nothing. Just as Those Others will come to nothing since their own evil will in the end eat them up!”
He strode forward along the wall until he came to the barrier, seemingly oblivious of the carrion reek which told of a snake-devil’s den somewhere about. And he raised his arm high, bringing the point of his spear gratingly along the carved surface. Nor did it seem to Dalgard a futile gesture, for Sssuri lived and breathed, stood free and armed in the city of his enemies-and the city was dead.
Together they climbed the barrier, and then Dalgard discovered that it was the rim of an arena which must have seated close to a thousand in the days of its use. It was a perfect oval in shape with tiers of seats now forming a staircase down to the center, where was a section ringed about by a series of archways. A high stone grille walled this portion away from the seats as if to protect the spectators from what might enter through those portals.
Dalgard noted all this only in passing, for the arena was occupied, very much occupied. And he knew the occupiers only too well.
Three full-grown snake-devils were stretched at pulpy ease, their filled bellies obscenely round, their long necks crowned with their tiny heads flat on the sand as they napped. A pair of half-grown monsters, not yet past the six-foot stage, tore at some indescribable remnants of their elders’ feasting, hissing at each other and aiming vicious blows whenever they came within possible fighting distance. Three more, not long out of their mothers’ pouches scrabbled in the earth about the sleeping adults.
“A good catch,” Dalgard signaled Sssuri, and the merman nodded.
They climbed down from seat to seat. This could not rightfully be termed hunting when the quarry might be picked off so easily without risk to the archer. But as Dalgard notched his first arrow, he sighted something so surprising that he did not let the poisoned dart fly.
The nearest sleeping reptile which he had selected as his mark stretched lazily without raising its head or opening its small eyes. And the sun caught on a glistening band about its short foreleg just beneath the joint of the taloned pawhands. No natural scales could reflect the light with such a brilliant glare. It could be only one thing-metal! A metal bracelet about the tearing arm of a snake-devil! Dalgard looked at the other two sleepers. One was lying on its belly with its forearms gathered under it so that he could not see if it, also, were so equipped. But the other-yes, it was. banded!
Sssuri stood at the grille, one hand on its stone divisions.
His surprise equaled Dalgard’s. It was not in his experience= either that the untamed snake-devils, regarded by merman, and human alike as so dangerous as to be killed on sight, could‘ be banded-as if they were personal pets!
For a moment or two a wild idea crossed Dalgard’s mind.
How long was the natural life span of a snake-devil? Until. the coming of the colonists they had been the undisputed., rulers of the deserted continent, stupid as they were, simply because of their strength and ferocity. A twelve-foot, scale armored monster, that could tear apart a duocorn with ease;; might not be successfully vanquished by any of the fauna of_ Astra. And since the monsters did not venture into the sea, contact between them and the mermen had been limited to casual encounters at rare intervals. So, how long did a snakedevil live? Were these creatures sprawled here in sleep;, ones that had known the domination of Those Others-‘ though the fall of the master race of Astra must have occurred generations, hundreds of years in the past?
“No,” Sssuri’s denial cut through that. “The smaller one is not yet full-grown. It lacks the second neck ring. Yet it is: banded.”
The merman was right. That unpleasant wattle of armored, flesh which necklaced the serpent throat of the devil Dalgard’ had picked as his target was thin, not the thick roll of fat such as distinguished its two companions. It was not fully adult, yet the band was plain to see on the foreleg now stretched to its full length as the sun bored down to supply_ the heavy heat the snake-devils relished next to food.
“Then-“ Dalgard did not like to think of what might be. the answer to that “then.”
Sssuri shrugged. “It is plain that these are not wild roamers. They are here for a purpose. And that purpose-“ Suddenly his arm shot out so that his fingers protruded through the slits in the stone grille. “See?”
Dalgard had already seen, in seeing he knew hot and terrible anger. Out of the filthy mess in which the snake-devils wallowed, something had rolled, perhaps thrown about in play by the unspeakable offspring. A skull, dried scraps of fur and flesh still clinging to .it, stared hollow-eyed up at them. At least one merman had fallen prey to the nightmares who ruled the arena.
Sssuri hissed and the red rage in his mind was plain to Dalgard. “Once more they deal death here-“ His eyes went from the skull to the monsters. “Kill!” The command was imperative and sharp.
Dalgard had qualified as a master bowman before he had first gone roving. And the killing of snake-devils was a task which had been set every colonist since their first brush with the creatures.