'There are other caves, along the ridge farther north. But they are not large, and too close to the bottom of the gorge. I don't like to think that other creatures could crawl down on me: being below the level of the land. Then there are the earth-holes dug by the wolves in the Northern Hills. With Akar ---the pack has gone to the South, as I told you---it would be all right for us to live there until Spring, perhaps longer.

'But there also, there are too many unknowns. The great bears come farther south in Winter, crossing the Broad River far to the west, where it is shallower and stony. Their violence, when enraged, is like no other creature. My father was killed by such a bear. . .and the thought of finding you, dragged out across a hillside..... That is what I fear above all else.' He released a troubled breath.

'The sandstone ridge, the caves to the south, are of stone even worse than the Carak. And there the mountain cats rule. I don't know where else to go.'

'What about Skither's cave?'

He shook his head. 'Even if Skither has gone to another place (the thought that he was injured and unable to return, was something his mind could not accept), the entrance is much too hard to defend. Perhaps we could block up this pa.s.sage with stones.' He pointed to toward the smaller opening. 'But what can we do with an entrance so high as the one below? That is the same reason we cannot stay here. Soon all creatures will know that Skither is gone, and then the shaft becomes the thing impossible to defend.' This was the chance she had waited for, but now she felt reluctant to speak.

'I think..... I know a way we could barricade the entrance, and make the larger cave safe.' His eyes narrowed upon her turned form, silhouetted against the patch of starry sky beyond. 'It would be hard work, and you would have to let me help you. But it can be done.' Again, though his own shape was lost against the back of the enclosure, she felt the deep and sullen trepidation inside him. 'We don't have to think about it now.'

'There is a real way? That you have seen?'

'Yes.'

After an interval of silence he moved away, as if to sleep. But soon the great emptiness and restlessness came over him again. Hardly knowing why, he moved closer and put his arm across her, feeling her body against him. He lay still for a moment. His heart beat heavily, and slowly his hand found its way to her breast.

Sylviana felt this, more aware perhaps than he, of the feelings that lay behind it. She felt his gentle, yearning caress, closed her eyes peacefully and yielded to it until she felt the hand stop, tremble slightly, and he moved away again.

'No, Kalus. It's all right.'

Through the stir of her emotions a feeling of sudden, firm resolve came over her. She stood up, reached down to her waist, and took off her blouse. She unfastened, and slipped out of her faded jeans. She removed her underclothes more slowly, her own heart beating heavily, and lay down beside him. And shyly, and affectionately, and longingly drew him close.

His heart thundering, he pulled away his own garments and surrendered to the torrent inside him. His last words as emotion and sensation overpowered him were strange, yet he spoke them with all his soul.

'I need you. Sylviana!'

And her name flowed like water through the piercing of his heart.

Chapter 15

A light snow fell from the silent soft grayness of the sky. Sylviana stood on the parapet with the fur wrapped around her, immersed in a feeling of peace and attachment to her world such as she had seldom experienced. She watched Kalus on the ledge below, unaware of her eyes, studying the high entrance to the Mantis' cave and pacing uncertainly. At first, as it often did, her mind questioned his mood.

How could he not still feel the warmth and purposeful beauty of their love-making, the gentle gifts that Nature was bestowing on them even now?

But as she continued to watch him, a feeling of contented understanding had so overwhelmed her doubts as to make them appear small and mean, a source of reproach and beneath further consideration.

For here, she then expounded, was a creature untainted by civilization or corrupt society, his roots in the earth, his feet sometimes painfully touching the ground beneath him, free (indeed unable to do otherwise) to react naturally and honestly, like a graceful and intelligent animal, to the world and circ.u.mstances around him. Therefore, her thoughts continued, his hopes, fears and yearnings were a direct outgrowth of that world. His morals, free from religious preconceptions, were dictated to him solely and directly by the needs of Nature.

Her last thought came to her as a culmination, almost an o.r.g.a.s.m, of all the others that had come before it, tying them together and giving them still greater meaning and significance. Her lover lived, the more so because he did not know it, the deepest and purest human existence: that of spiritual yearning, and animal desire.

She pulled the soft fur tighter, ma.s.saged one arm with the other, and looked out across the plains. The snow had all but stopped, and far out over the western hills her eyes caught movement against the clouds. It might have been an eagle but for the unnatural, straight ahead motion of its flight..... Her heart sank. Slowly but steadily the flying shape drew on, till there could be no doubt. Dejectedly, she called down to her companion.

'Kalus.' His head jerked towards her. 'You'd better come up here.' He turned a quick half circle and drew his sword as if expecting danger. Finding none, he looked up at her with a questioning gaze. Her arm pointed out over the gra.s.s- and tree-pocked drifts of the savanna. Seeing what she saw, but not appearing to, he sheathed his sword and began to climb. Not until far past the halfway point did he look up from the stone in front of him. Misunderstanding, she pointed again.

'Put down your arm,' he said in guarded tones. Soon he stood on the parapet beside her, and only then looked out at the lowering sky.

The girl spoke.

'It's Skither.'

'No. It's not.'

'Then who?' He shook his head.

Soon she too could see that it was not the mantis they had known. It was smaller, and flew with greater speed but less grace. Also, the feel of it was different. It was very close now, perhaps a mile off, and though it struggled in a growing tail-wind, its wing-plates ruffling badly, it seemed determined not to rest until it had reached the mountain, where clearly now it was heading. Finally it crossed the gorge and landed roughly on the ledge, its brownish-green armor looking unnatural against the stone and snow. Kalus, whose tracks showed plainly about the entrance, set his jaw and said nothing. Akar limped out of the enclosure and stood between them, studying the young mantis.

It remained motionless, head down and breath coming hard, oblivious to anything but its own fatigue. Finally raising its head, it studied the tracks briefly, then turned towards the three of them with no outward sign of surprise. At length it raised an unsteady foreclaw and signaled someone, apparently Kalus, to come down. Through her confusion and alarm, Sylviana suddenly noticed that its other forelimb was severed just below the first joint. One of its antennae was also missing, and it seemed to stand only with an effort.

Kalus took a step forward but was stopped by Akar, who took his wrist gently but firmly between his jaws. Kalus relented, and let the wolf pa.s.s instead. Akar made his way to the path, and taxing the wounded shoulder only at greatest need, began to descend. But in an angry rocking motion that clearly showed its displeasure, the mantis waved him off. It raised the intact foreclaw once more, this time pointing undeniably at Kalus. He turned to the girl.

'I don't know what this means. But he will not kill me like this.

It is not their way.' He gave his head a severe shake, and made his way down the slope.

Stepping out onto the ledge as he had once done before Skither, Kalus felt less awe but greater danger. Not yet an adult, the creature before him was a mystery. And young and hurt and exhausted, there was no way of knowing..... Stopping at a distance, Kalus began to signal a greeting.

Brushing off his half understood formalities, the mantis came straight to the point. 'I am only a messenger,' he began, 'Sent by others to relay this news. Skither is dead, killed by a mating pair as he tried to draw them out to the place where others stood waiting.'

Kalus' heart sank, as if a part of himself had died as well. He hardly noted what followed, and only much later was able to piece it all together in his mind.

The seasonal battle in the desert sp.a.w.ning place had been fierce and desperate. Apparently Skither had half expected such an end, for he left word with his comrades of the man-child and his mate, leaving these instructions for them:

'The cave is now yours, along with everything in it. This, my messenger, will remain here until he is well enough to move on. Be of good hope, and continue.'

But Kalus stood in empty disbelief. He could not believe, for all that he held to be strong and unchanging had been suddenly, irrevocably cut out from under him. Skither had been more than a symbol to him, he had been a living G.o.d---strength and courage and wisdom personified. If he in all his prowess could be broken, then what chance did he himself have against the ceaseless ravages of his world? The question was too much for him.

In all his days he would see only two more of the n.o.ble creatures.

Their time on earth running out, it was perhaps a small comfort to know that the reign of their enemies was also pa.s.sing. A thousand years of radiation and unlimited carrion had raised the tarantula to its huge proportions. But now, like the mantis, who had grown of Nature's necessity alongside it, the giant spiders were an archaic and dying race. And though each year the gathering was larger---as if some last instinct called all in desperation to the place of sp.a.w.ning---each time the number of eggs left untouched (by the mammals which had come to prey on them) was smaller. And without the ensuing cannibalism among the hatchlings---out of which several hundred would be reduced to perhaps a dozen---those that survived were more feeble, easier for both the mantises and natural attrition to kill. An era born of the violence of men was slowly pa.s.sing.

Kalus turned without ceremony or awareness and made his way back to the path. He climbed without feeling, or knowing where he was, and heard a voice inside him say it was all right, he still had the woman.