“The hunters in the sammads have decided that there is enough meat now. They are grateful that we showed them these hunting grounds. They are ready to leave.”
“That is a good decision,” one of the watching hunters said. “None of us want this murgu attack.” Kerrick agreed strongly with these feelings and felt a leap of hope, yet kept silent.
“You speak for yourself,” Herilak said bitterly. “Yes, the trek has been successful. There is food enough now for the winter so I can understand why they are so eager to return. With their stomachs full they can forget their hunger and remember instead what happened to the two other sammads on this shore. This is to be the last night. They are eager to leave tomorrow at dawn. We stay here and march one day behind them in case the murgu attack after all.”
“We will move fast,” the second hunter called out. “They will not catch us now.”
Herilak turned away from them scornfully. Ortnar was as bitter as he. “We did not do this just to fill your stomachs. We came to kill murgu.”
“We cannot do it alone,” Herilak said.
Kerrick turned and looked out to sea so they could not see the relief on his features. They might argue, but in the end the sammads would go. There was nothing to keep them here and every reason to leave. There would be no battle. Small white clouds drifted in the clear sky above, casting dark shadows on the clear water. Large shadows. Moving shadows.
He stood still, gazing at the shadows, and did not speak until he was absolutely sure. His voice was tight and he could not stop it from trembling.
“They are out there. The murgu are coming.”
It was just as he said. The black boats were clearly visible now as they moved out from under the shadow of the clouds. They were going rapidly north.
“Are they not stopping?” Herilak cried out. “Are they going on to attack the sammads?”
“We must warn them—there is little time!” Kerrick said. One of the hunters turned to run with the warning, but Herilak stopped him.
“Wait. Wait until we are sure.”
“They are turning towards shore now!” Ortnar said. “Coming towards the beach below us.”
The hunters lay in silent concealment, filled with horror as the boats came close, bobbing in the gentle surf. There were loud orders and the armed fargi splashed out of the boats and made their way onto the beach. There was no doubt that a landing was being made when they began to pass supplies ashore.
“Now go,” Herilak whispered to the two hunters. “Both of you. Go different ways so that one of you will be sure to bring the warning. As soon as it is dark and they cannot be seen the travois must be loaded as planned, then the sammads will move quickly, go inland. Trek until dawn and then take cover in the forest. As soon as the travois are loaded all the hunters are to leave the camp and join us here. Run.”
The scene on the beach below was a familiar one to Kerrick, but shockingly new to the two hunters. They watched as the supplies were taken from the boats and the fargi, wrapped in cloaks, bedded down for the night. The leaders were grouped farther down the beach but Kerrick did not dare to move closer to see who they were. There was every chance that Stallan might be in command, and at this thought he shared some of the emotions of revenge that possessed the other two. Stallan who had beaten him and hated him, who had as good as killed Alipol with her unwanted and brutal attention. What a pleasure it would be to run his spear through that creature’s hide!
There was no moon, but the stars clearly lit the white sand of the beach below, picked out the dark forms resting there. More stars climbed slowly from the sea until, at last, there was a slight rustling from the forest behind them.
The first of the hunters crept close. By dawn the attackers would be in position.