She tried to be unemotional about it, logical, but she was finished with logic now and hatred was seething through her. How many pictures had she looked at? There was no counting. One group of ustuzou looked like any other, the creatures themselves were hard to tell apart. Yet she was sure that the one she sought was in none of the earlier pictures of the packs to the east of the mountains. Only when she had looked at the picture that revealed the mastodons, the only mastodons west of the mountains, had she had the feeling that she had found him at last. Tomorrow she would know for certain.
With the coming of darkness she slept—as did all the Yilanè. Protected by their carefully laid defenses. There were no alarms that night and their sleep was not disturbed. At first light the fafgi stirred and preparations for the day’s march, the day’s battle, began. There was little warmth in the sun yet and Vaintè kept the large sleeping cloak wrapped about her when Stallan joined her as she watched the loading. Everything moved smoothly with true Yilanè organization, groups and group leaders moving efficiently about their appointed tasks. Water, meat, and the other supplies were loaded on the specially bred large-size uruktop. The pleasure of the operation was spoiled for Vaintè when she became aware of Peleinè signaling for attention.
“Vaintè, I would speak with you.”
“This evening, when this day’s work is done. I am busy now.”
“This evening may be too late for the work you desire may not be done.”
Vaintè did not move or speak, but one eye looked Peleinè up and down with cold scrutiny, although Peleinè was too distraught to be aware of her displeasure.
“I wish it were otherwise, but there is much talk among the Daughters and many are worried. They begin to feel that a mistake has been made.”
“A mistake? You assured me that you were no longer to be called the Daughters of Death but were now the Daughters of Life in everything. True citizens of Alpèasak, with your errors put behind you, ready to help and aid in all matters. Therefore I saw to it that all rights and honors were restored to those that followed you, raised you up to serve by my side. It is too late now to talk of mistakes.”
“Hear me out, mighty Vaintè.’ Peleinè wound her thumbs together in unconscious misery, her palms showing distressed colors to match. “Speaking of matters and making decisions is one thing. Carrying them out is another. We came with you of our free will, came across the sea, the land and the rivers with you since we agreed that what you are doing is correct. Agreed that the ustuzou are predatory animals that must be slaughtered just as meat animals are slaughtered.”
“This you agreed.”
“This we agreed before we saw the animals. Two of the Daughters were with the party that found the ustuzou pack yesterday.”
“I know of this. It was I who sent them.” To blood them, she thought, that was what Stallan said. Blood them. Stallan always did this with fargi who sought to become hunters. There were many who could not easily kill for they had been too long in the cities, too long from the sea, too far from their origins to kill quickly and efficiently. A killer does not think; a killer reacts. These Daughters of Death thought too much, thought all of the time and did very little else. Blooding them would help.
Peleinè was having difficulty in speaking. Vaintè waited with barely controlled patience.
“They should not have gone,” Peleinè finally said, her meaning muffled by unnecessary movements of her limbs.
“You presume to question my commands?” Vaintè’s crest was erect, quivering with rage.
“They are dead, Vaintè. Both dead.”
“They cannot be. The resistance was slight, none were injured.”
“These two returned. They spoke of the ustuzou camp and said that it was not unlike a small city, the ustuzou had many strange artifacts as well, and they cried out in pain as they died. Both of them had used their hèsotsan and they had killed. When they spoke aloud of this someone said that they were Daughters of Death now, not Daughters of Life, and they agreed that they were givers of death. So they died. Died just as though the Eistaa had taken their names away and ordered them from the city. That is how they died. Now that we know this, we know that we were wrong in our beliefs. Killing ustuzou brings death not life. We can no longer aid you, Vaintè. We cannot kill for you.”