“Which could mean that the murgu might be on their way now to attack us,” Herilak said, his voice cold as death.
Kerrick shook his head, his face grim. “Not may be—but must be. It is warm enough for them this far south even at this time of year. They have sought for us, and this creature has told them where we camp. They will seek vengeance, there is no doubt of that.”
“What do we do?” Har-Havola asked, glancing up at the star-filled sky. “Can we go north? It is not yet spring.”
“We may have to go, spring or no spring,” Kerrick said. “We will have to decide about that. In the meantime we must know if we are to be attacked. Hunters will go south along the riverbank, hunters who are the strongest runners. They must go one, even two days’ march south of this camp and watch the river. If they see the murgu boats they must warn us at once.”
“Sigurnath and Peremandu,” Har-Havola said. “They are the fastest of foot in my sammad. They have run after deer in the mountains and they run as fast as the deer.”
“They leave at dawn,” Herilak said.
“There are some of my hunters who have not returned,” Sorli said. “They have traveled far and sleep away. We cannot leave this place until they come back.”
Kerrick looked into the fire as though searching for an answer there. “I feel we should not wait any longer than that. We must go north as soon as your hunters return.”
“It is frozen still, there is no hunting,” Har-Havola protested.
“We have food,” Kerrick said. “We have our own meat and the meat in bladders that we took from the murgu. We can eat that and we can live. If we stay here they will fall upon us. I feel that, I know that.” He pointed to the dead owl and the living creature tight-clamped to its leg. “They watch. They know where we are. They come to kill us. I know them, know how they feel. If we stay we are dead.”
They slept little that night and Kerrick was there at the first light of dawn when Sigurnath and Peremandu set out.
Both of them were tall and strong, wearing birchbark leggings as protection against the underbrush.
“Leave your spears so they will not weigh you down,” Kerrick said. “Take dried meat and ekkotaz, but only enough for three days. You will not need the spears because you will not hunt. You are there to watch. You will have your bows, and you will take a hèsotsan as well for protection. As you go south always stay within sight of the river, even if it takes you longer that way. Go until it is dark and remain by the river at night. Return on the third day if we have not sent for you, for we will stay here no longer than that. Watch the river all of the time—but leave it at once if you see the murgu. If you see them you must get back here as quickly as you can.”
The two hunters ran. An easy and steady, ground-eating pace. The sky was overcast, the day cool, which made the running that much easier. They ran along the bank of the wide river, and splashed through the shallows when they were forced to, or climbed the high banks, never letting the water out of their sight. The river remained empty. When the sun was high they stopped, soaked in sweat, and drank deep from a clear stream that fell in a waterfall over a stone bank, then splashed into the river below. They cooled their faces in the spray, then chewed some of the smoked meat. They did not stop long.
In midafternoon they came to a place where the river cut a great loop into the plain. They were on a rise above it and could see where the course of the river curved out, then back.
“It is shorter to cross the bend here,” Sigurnath said. Peremandu looked at it, then rubbed the perspiration from his face with the back of his hand.