Return to Eden

until the baby is born, until you feel better. Then we will all leave here, go north, we cannot stay if the hunters are this close."
    "And what of these two murgu you care so much for?"
    "They stay here. We go without them. That is enough now. I am hungry and want food. And look at this—we have three more death-sticks. It will be all right."
    All right for them, he thought as he chewed the cold meat. But what about the males? They must stay here. With Imehei immobile in the lake it would be impossible for them to leave. Yet the rest of his sammad must go as soon as possible. That was all there was to it. There was no choice.
    It was late in the afternoon of the next day before Nadaske finally appeared with Imehei in tow. He was exhausted and moved one slow stroke at a time, floating and resting often. Kerrick took up Nadaske's hèsotsan and went to help him, stopping Arnwheet when he tried to follow. The boy did as he had been ordered, stood and gnawed his knuckles, worried and insecure, knowing only that something bad had happened to his friends. He watched in unhappy silence as the unconscious Imehei was dragged up onto the shore, until his head rested on the sand with the lower part of his body still in the water.
    Kerrick thought that he was unconscious until his lips moved and he said something with languid motions of his arms. It was as though he were talking in his sleep for his eyes never opened.
    "Food… desire to eat… hunger."
    Nadaske went to fetch fresh fish from the little holding pond that they had dug with such great effort. He tore pieces from the fish and pressed them into Imehei's gaping mouth. Who slowly closed his jaws and chewed placidly.
    "How long will he be like this?" Kerrick asked.
    "A long time. There is no count to the days that I know. Others may know, it is no knowledge that I have."
    "And at the end of that time?"
    Nadaske made a shrugging motion of hope/fear, knowledge/ignorance. "The eggs break, the elininyil feed, they enter the lake. Imehei lives or dies. Only then will we know."
    "I am going to have to leave with the others, as soon as Armun can travel, to go north. It will be dangerous to remain here."
    Nadaske rolled one eye in his direction and signed suspected knowledge. "It was my consideration you would do that. Others are sure to follow those who were killed. They may hunt in this direction. I cannot come with you."
    "I know that. But I will come back for you, for both of you, as soon as we have found a safe place."
    "I believe you Kerrick Yilanè/ustuzou. I have learned how you feel about these things and I know that you must consider your own ustuzou efenburu first. Take them to safety."
    "We will talk of this again. It will be some days yet before we can leave."
    When Kerrick started back he found that Ortnar had stumbled down to the beach and was waiting for him.
    "The baby is coming soon. She told me to tell you that. I know nothing of these things and cannot help you."
    "Guard us from harm, Ortnar, that is what a strong hunter can do. I know as little as you do of these matters, but I must try to help her."
    He turned and hurried away. This was a day of many events. One who was perhaps moving towards death, one surely coming into life.
    Darras looked up when he came in but never let go of Armun's hand. Armun smiled wearily, her hair soaked and perspiration beading her face.
    "Do not look so worried, my hunter. It is a late baby but a strong one. Do not worry."
    He was the one who should be comforting her, he realized, not the other way around. But this matter was beyond his knowledge. It was the women who always took care of it themselves.
    "We should never have left the other sammads," he said. "You should not be here on your own."
    "I do what many women have done before. My own mother, our sammad was small, no other women.
    This is the way things are, have always been. You must go, eat and rest. I will send Darras for you when it is time."
    Kerrick could say nothing, do nothing. He went out to the fire where Orhiar was cooking meat. He looked up, then hacked off a piece and gave it to Kerrick who chewed it in silence. Harl and Arnwheet, their faces well smeared with grease, sat across from him finishing their meal. Ortnar stared out at the gathering darkness, then signalled to Harl who rose and kicked sand over the fire. They must stay on their guard, particularly now.
    The moon was out, the night warm, marsh birds calling quietly to each other as they settled