He was interrupted by a cry of alarm from one of the boys who were watching the forest around them. The hunters turned, weapons ready. A strange hunter had appeared from the trees and stood motionless, looking at them. He was from one of the sammads from beyond the mountains, they could tell that by the birchbark leggings he wore below his knees. It was Herilak who went forward to meet him. When he came close the hunter bent and placed his spear on the ground. Herilak did the same, and when he did so the hunter called out to him. Herilak shook his head, then turned and called back to the others.
“He speaks, but I understand little.”
“Newasfar will talk with him,” Ulfadan said. “He has hunted beyond the mountains and knows how they talk.”
Newasfar left his own spear behind and went to speak with the stranger while they all watched. There was a brief exchange which Newasfar translated.
“He is a sammadar called Har-Havola. He says that their mastodons died in the cold of winter and they had to eat them in order to stay alive themselves. Now all their food has gone and they will die when the snows come. He has heard that there is much food here and he asks for some.”
“No,” Herilak said in instant response. The other hunters nodded agreement. Har-Havola stepped back at this, for it was one word that he knew. He looked around at the expressionless faces, started to speak, then must have realized that it was useless. He bent and picked up his spear, was turning away—when Kerrick called out.
“Wait. Newasfar, tell him not to leave. Ask him how many hunters he has in his sammad?”
“We have no food to spare,” Herilak said. “He must leave.”
“I speak now as margalus. Listen to what I have to say.” Herilak acknowledged this and was silent. “We have more food than we can eat right now. Meat from the hunt as well as the murgu meat that we captured. When we go out into the grasslands there will be good hunting and we will have even more meat. But there will also be murgu that we must defend ourselves against. When they attack the more hunters we have to fight them the more secure we will be. I say let them join us for we can use their spears.”
Herilak thought about this, then nodded in agreement.
“The margalus speaks the truth. We will need many hunters now because some must stand guard during the night. I say as well—let them come with us. Speak with him, Newasfar, tell him what we do and what the danger is. Tell him that if his hunters fight at our side, then all in his sammad will eat.”
Har-Havola straightened up when he heard this and struck his chest. They did not need Newasfar to translate his words. The Tanu from beyond the mountains were great hunters and fighters. They would come.
Then he turned towards the trees and called out a command. The file of frightened women emerged from the trees, clutching their children to them. The hunters came behind them. They were all emaciated and did not hesitate to take the food that was offered to them. When everyone had eaten, the column started forward again and moved slowly out onto the plain.
While the mastodons were being gathered together in a group Herilak spoke to the sammadars.
“Now that we have more hunters we have more security. Kerrick can join me in the fore since he is margalus. Har-Havola will march to the rear with his hunters, since there will be less danger there and they do not have death-sticks. As soon as the hunters are in position we will start.”
The grassy plain stretched before them to the horizon, a series of undulating low hills. There were clumps of trees scattered about, but most of the plain was grass. A herd of animals, too far distant to identify, was running swiftly away from them and soon vanished from sight. Nothing else moved: the plain had a deceptively peaceful air. Ulfadan knew better; his fingers touched the great tooth suspended about his neck as he looked carefully about. All of the hunters clutched their weapons tightly now, well aware that they did not belong here. Even the mastodons seemed to feel the tension, trumpeting and tossing their great heads.