“Answer demanded stranger!” Ostuku ordered.

Vaintè looked at her coldly and spoke with minimum movements, rejection without insult. “I am commanded only by those of power: I speak only to those with grace.”

Ostuku gasped, angered and confused. The sureness of the visitor was real, her presence imposing. She turned away from Vaintè, not willing to go on with the exchange.

“An accomplished Yilanè,” Saagakel thought, and of course communicated this thought to those around her. Vaintè heard it as well and signed respectful gratitude, pleasure of presence. All of the others were watching now and Vaintè was suddenly the center of attention. She saw this, stood and spoke.

“Apologies, Saagakel Eistaa of power. I did not mean to impose myself on your presence, wishing just to experience the pleasures of your ambesed, the strength of your presence. I withdraw for I have caused an interruption.”

“A welcome one, for events of the day are boring beyond belief. Come forward and tell us of yourself and of your visit to Yebèisk.”

Vaintè did as she had been commanded, moving closer to the Eistaa. “I am Vaintè, she who was Eistaa of Alpèasak.” When she spoke the city’s name she added modifiers of darkness and termination. Saagakel responded with knowledge of circumstance.

“We have heard of your city and those who died there. Killer ustuzou, event of great unhappiness.”

“Happiness restored. Ustuzou driven out, the city Yilanè once again — for Ikhalmenets has gone to Alpèasak.”

Saagakel signed knowledge and memory. “I have heard of that great event from uruketo of Ikhalmenets that called here. I also heard of one who drove out the ustuzou. Coincidence of great importance, for that Yilanè also bore the name of Vaintè.”

Vaintè lowered her eyes and tried to speak humbly, succeeded slightly.

“There is only one Yilanè of small importance who bears the name Vaintè.”

Saagakel expressed great pleasure. “Doubly welcome to my city, Vaintè. You must tell me of this new land of Gendasi * across the ocean and of all the things that have happened there. Here, sit close to my right thumbs, and speak to us. Move, fat Ostuku, and make room for our new comrade.”

Each day after that Vaintè would go the ambesed and join the circle of confidantes that ringed the Eistaa. It was a pleasure to watch the flow of a great city again, the problems being brought to Saagakel, her orders issued. She delegated authority easily, but always in limited terms; have these fields prepared, those animals moved, the fishing catch to be improved. Those who acted for her would then be ignored — until they reported success of assignment. It was always success because any Yilanè who did not carry out the Eistaa’s directions, precisely and completely, was never seen again in the ruling half of the ambesed. Vaintè admired this, as well as the not too obvious fact that none of the assistants were ever delegated power in more than one area — or for more than a limited amount of time. Saagakel was the Eistaa and saw to it that no other had the experience or opportunity to aspire to that place.

When her day’s work was finished, the Eistaa would bathe in the pool of warm water hidden by the trees behind her place of power. Once she was refreshed and cleansed, meat would be brought to her and she would eat with great pleasure. Then, on most days, she would sign to Vaintè to tell them more about Gendasi* distant across the sea, of Alpèasak the city that grew and was Yilanè, was burnt and infected by ustuzou, was reclaimed again in the end. There was so much to tell that Vaintè could choose the content and manner of telling. Her listeners noticed no gaps in her history for she told it in separate units and each unit was complete. They were entertained, horrified, fascinated and grateful. They, like Vaintè, wanted the story to be long in the telling in order to extract the maximum amount of diversion.

Vaintè for her part wanted to learn everything she could about the city and the Eistaa. After the long, bleak time of silence it was pleasure magnified to speak and to listen. By avoiding those topics that caused her pain of memory she healed herself. Yebèisk was a fine city to be in. Like all other cities it was centered on the ambesed. Around and above the ambesed there grew the city tree, the complex web of life that nourished and formed the city. To one side, there was the sea, as in all cities, always ocean or river, where the birth beaches were. On all the other flanks the fields and forests stretched away until they reached the outermost rampart of the city. A living wall of trees and poisonous plants — and great indestructible animals like nenitesk and onetsensast, living fossils of bygone ages, that protected the city from the creatures of the wild forests. The city ended at the wall. Beyond it were the mountains, deserts and dry plains, unsuitable for Yilanè, stretching into the unmeasurable distance, uncharted and unmapped; although there were those few who knew ways across them. Then, when the soil and the climate became amenable again, there would be another wall and another city. All across the great continent of Entoban* the wild country stretched between the cities of the Yilanè.

One day there appeared, out of the trackless forest, a hunter of great skill by the name of Fafnepto. She was not of Yebèisk, or of any city that anyone knew of, for she moved from one to the other as it pleased her. Fafnepto had just arrived from one of these distant cities and all present listened to her with eagerness.

“You have returned, Fafnepto,” Saagakel said, with modifiers of appreciation, rewards pending.

“I have, Eistaa, as I said I would.” She touched the container on the grass next to her with one foot. Tall and strong, her skin scarred by her years beyond the cities, she reminded Vaintè of one who had been very close to her, one Stallan, once her staunchest ally and friend. A hunter as well; it was no chance resemblance. Although Fafnepto did bear a disfigurement that made her unique. Some creature, she never spoke of it and none dared ask, had lashed her across the head and rib cage, leaving an immense length of scar. This cut across her face and had removed her left eye. It was said that she saw better with the remaining eye than others did with two, which was undoubtedly true.

“I have brought that which you requested, Eistaa. The eggs lie safe in here.”

Saagakel moved with gratitude and pleasure. “Fafnepto, first among Yilanè of strength and wisdom, do you speak of the eggs of the okhalakx?” She signed pleasure unbounded at Fafnepto’s affirmative answer. The listeners echoed the pleasure, all except for Vaintè.

“You are not familiar with the okhalakx?” Saagakel asked.

“Apologies for ignorance,” Vaintè said.

“Lack of information, one day to be replaced by pleasure. It is one of the older animals, found in very few cities. Solid of body, strong of skull — and most important — tasty of flesh. We had a small herd, they grow slowly, but they were destroyed by disease. A tragedy turned now to a happiness by Fafnepto, for whom the city’s gratitude is boundless. Requests of any magnitude granted.”

“One,” Fafnepto said in a plain-spoken, rough but not impolite manner. She turned a penetrating eye on Vaintè. “I have been told that this visitor has great knowledge of Gendasi*, land across the sea. And of the ustuzou and other animals there. I have questions about them I would ask.”

“My knowledge is yours,” Vaintè said, and Saagakel was gratified by her loyalty and clarity of speech. Fafnepto signed her away from the group and they walked by the stream.

“The ustuzou I know are small and covered with fur,” Fafhepto said. “It is said that they are different in Gendasi*.”

“Some are just as you have said. But there are larger ones with branching horns that make the best eating. We kept them in the city for that. Then there are the others of some intelligence and much guile. Poisonous creatures, fit only to be destroyed. As they destroyed Alpèasak, though it grew again.”