Barry Longyear - Enemy Papers

"You wished to know what I do differently from the others. Today you shall learn. The most important thing you should learn is that I am no more talented or gifted than the other hunters. Why I bring down more game is simply the manner in which I hunt. First, though, we shall see how the others hunt."

Haruda crouched and began running in a great arc toward the left. We raced after it, and soon we began ascending a slight rise in the plain. Just before reaching the crest, Haruda crouched and Shizumaat and I crouched next to it. Haruda pointed down toward the west and we looked. "See, there? There in the stalks just before the trees. It is Vorusma’s head. In the distance there should be game."

I strained my eyes and could just make out the movement of stalks in the still air. The hunter called Vorusma crept silently toward the movement. Vorusma stopped as a horned head atop a long neck came up from the moving stalks. It was a fine, huge darghat. The head, almost without perceptible motion, surveyed the beast’s surroundings. When the creature’s gaze came to rest upon Vorusma, the beast reared up, turned, and fled. Vorusma hefted its weapons and followed at a dead run, trying to mount its spear in its throw-sling.

I had never seen anyone run as fast as that hunter, but Haruda laughed and pointed as the darghat outdistanced Vorusma. The hunter did not quit running until it dropped into the stalks, exhausted.

"Young ones," said Haruda, "I could show you the same act a hundred times today, for this is how the Kuvedah hunts the darghat and has always hunted the darghat since before Daultha had its doubts. Sometimes the darghat is old and slow, sometimes stupid. Sometimes the others bring in game, but not often. Now I shall show you how Haruda hunts the darghat; and how you shall become great hunters."

We moved to a treegrove, and rested in the top of a thorn tree. Through its branches the plain could be seen for a day’s hard walk. After a few moments, the hunter pointed at a movement in the distant stalks. "There. Do you see it?"

The tall grass moved and I faced the hunter. "I see the stalks moving," I answered.

Shizumaat whispered, "A darghat!"

I looked back. In the distance I could the see the distinctive long neck and horned head rising above the tips of the stalks.

Shizumaat looked at Haruda. "Do we give chase?"

The hunter slowly shook its head. "If you want to sleep in the grass like Vorusma, you may do so." The hunter pointed again at the darghat. "That one is testing the ground, sniffing the air for danger. If he thinks it is safe, he will summon the remainder of his herd. Sit quiet. Watch."

The darghat male examined the surrounding territory for many moments, and then tossed back its head and bleated. Far behind the creature, the stalks stirred, and twenty horned heads appeared above the stalks. Shizumaat clutched Haruda’s arm. "Now? Do we give chase now?"

"No. We will wait. If the herd passes this way without danger, this is the way it will return. Mark their path. When the herd returns, we shall catch and kill a few."

"Haruda, how do you know this?"

"I watch. I listen. I learn. This I have seen the darghat herds do thousands of times. Because of this, they will do so again."

When the herd had moved out of sight, Haruda had Shizumaat and I help in rigging snares across the path that the darghats had taken. The snares consisted of several fiber loops joined together at their draw-ends. Haruda explained. "Several of the darghat will become snared in the same set of loops and will fight and pull against each other until they are exhausted. Then we will move in with spears."

I studied upon it and saw in my mind that the simple scheme would work—had already worked, if Haruda’s reputation as a hunter was any evidence. But it seemed so simple. That is the way it happened, though. With the three of us wielding the spears at the tired, helpless darghats, our kill that day better than tripled the catch of any other three hunters that day. Among the greatest hunters of the Kuvedah, their reputations made in one day as Haruda had promised, were Shizumaat and Namndas.

I said to Shizumaat that night, "It is a wonderful thing to be a great hunter, is it not?"

"Our reputations will not last past tomorrow’s hunt, Namndas."

"Not last? Why?"

Shizumaat giggled and said, "Haruda proclaimed to all of the hunters that it would take two fools and make them better hunters than all of the experienced hunters in the tribe just by showing them something new. Because of their beliefs, and because they were frightened to learn something new, they never wanted to see what Haruda had to show them. I think some of them do now. Most won’t, but a few will look at the new way. Haruda has put the proof to its claim."

The next evening showed me the truth of Shizumaat’s words. Most of the hunters passed off Shizumaat’s and my kills as trickery or magic. Four experienced hunters asked Haruda to show them what it had showed us, and before Aakva’s light again died in the west, great hunters in the Kudah were becoming as common as grass. There were, though, other things to learn, and perhaps other things to teach.

Shizumaat’s experience with the hunters had it thinking many things over and asking many questions. It studied the things the Kuvedah did with and about everything. Why do the pregnant Kuvedah go to Kachine for advice? Why did the one called Vijnya make the best spear points? Shizumaat listened to the advice Kachine gave, and it watched Vijnya make its spear points. And Shizumaat studied every member of the tribe. Thus passed the year until Kangar’s death.

All gathered at the bank of the stream to watch Kangar’s pyre illuminate the night, the flames sending the old master of master’s spirit to Aakva’s Children. Since the time of choosing the new master through combat had long since passed, the clan masters gathered before their own fire to select the new master of masters. From the stories we had both heard as children, such councils were notorious for their rancor and resulting feuds. This council, though, had only one name on its lips: Mantar, the wise leader of its clan. Buna cast the colored fires and read in them that Mantar’s rule would be long and prosperous.

On the next morning, Buna talked to Shizumaat and me about places within the Kuvedah, to become teacher-ones, those who pass on lessons to the tribe’s young. To become a teacher-one of the Kuvedah we would have to reveal a great truth at our first night before the fires of the meeting lodge. Most teacher-ones would reveal mystical truths about the wishes and ways of the gods and great figures of the past. Such truths were profound, and mostly impossible to question. I chose such a truth, and I spoke of Uhe and how it had to do war to find peace and how the peace it found, if kept, should keep the Sindie united and at peace for eternity.

But Shizumaat chose to reveal a truth about the Sindie. It stood between the two fires, faced Banu and Mantar, and lifted its arms. Those in the meeting lodge quieted.

"Each thing that we do, no matter how slight, is to achieve a goal. There are countless goals and countless ways in which we try to achieve them. A goal is the present altered in some way in order that the future will contain that which the present does not contain. To achieve the same goal, though, the ways we each choose are different because we each see by different lights. There are ways that bring the achievement of the goal quickly, ways that achieve the goal slowly, ways that achieve the goal poorly, and ways that achieve the goal not at all."

Shizumaat reached into its pouch and brought forth a long sliver of grainless stone. It held it in its hands so that all could see, "This is a stone spear point fashioned by Kijnya. Kijnya’s points are known by all the Kuvedah as the best. But Kijnya cannot make enough of them."