Winter in Eden

away from his anger, but the sammadar Sorli stepped forward. "We have thoughts of our own, and we have talked. Herilak tells the truth. There is nothing for us here. What is done is done and we must return to our sammads before the winter. You must come as well, Kerrick, your sammad is to the north, not here."
    Armun. At the thought of her this city of death was nothing. She was his sammad, she and the baby, and he almost gave way, joined them in the march north. But behind Sorli was Sanone and his Sasku and they had not moved. Kerrick turned toward them, spoke.
    "And what do the Sasku say of this?"
    "We have spoken as well and have not yet finished with the speaking. We have just come to this new place, there is much here to be seen and spoken of—and we do not share the same need for the frozen Winter in Eden - Harry Harrison
    north that the Tanu do now. We understand them. But we seek different things."
    "Just a small time," Kerrick said, wheeling about to face the hunters. "We must sit and smoke and confer on this. Decisions must be made—"
    "No," Herilak said. "Decisions have been made. What we have come to do we have done. We start back today."
    "I cannot leave with you now." Kerrick heard the strain in his voice, hoped the others could not hear it as well. "It is also my wish to return. Armun is there, my sammad, but I cannot go back with you yet."
    "Armun will be under my care," Herilak said. "If you do not wish to come with us she will be safe in my sammad until you return."
    "I cannot leave yet. The time is not ready, it requires thought."
    He was speaking to their backs. The decision had been taken, the talking was finished. The battle was done and the hunters were free again. They followed Herilak in silence down the path through the trees.
    And none glanced back, not one Tanu. Kerrick stood and watched until the last of them were gone from sight, felt that some important part of him had gone with them. What had turned his victory into his defeat? He willed himself to follow them, to plead with them again to come back, and if they did not he wanted to join them on the trail, the trail that led to Armun and his life.
    But he did not. Something equally strong kept him here. He knew that he belonged with Armun, with the Tanu, for he was Tanu.
    Yet he had talked with the foolish male Yilanè, had commanded them as a Yilanè, had felt the strength and power of his position. Could that be it? Was he at home in this ruined city as he had never been among the sammads in the north?
    He felt pulled in two directions and could not decide, could only stand and look at the empty trees, torn by emotions he could not understand, taking in breath after shuddering breath.
    "Kerrick," the voice said, speaking as though from a great distance and he realized that Sanone was talking to him. "You are still margalus. What are your orders?"
    There was understanding in the old man's eyes; the manduktos of the Sasku knew the hidden secrets of others. Perhaps he knew Kerrick's inner feelings better than he did himself. Enough. There was much to be done. He must put all thought of Armun from him now.
    "We will need food," he said. "I will show you the fields where the animals are kept for slaughter. Surely Winter in Eden - Harry Harrison
    they could not all have been burned. And all of the dead here, something must be done with them."
    "Into the river before they rot," Sanone said grimly. "It will carry them out to sea."
    "Yes, that will take care of them. Order it done. Then choose those who will come with me. I will show them the way to the animals. We will eat—after that there is much that we will have to do."
    CHAPTER TWO
    belesekesse ambeiguru desguru kak'kusarod. murubelek murubelek.
    Yilanè apothegm
    Those who swim to the top of the highest wave can only sink in the deepest trough.
    Erafnais ordered everyone below, crewmembers and passengers alike, as the uruketo swam out into the open sea. But she remained there on top of the fin when the storm washed over them, transparent membranes closed over her eyes against the driving rain. Between showers she had a single glimpse of the burnt city, smoke roiling high above it, the beaches empty of life. The vision burned into her memory and she could see it clearly still even when the rain returned; would see it always. She remained there at her station until dark, when the uruketo slowed, swimming easily with the current as it would until daylight returned. Only then did she