The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02

by Ricardo Pinto

  When Fern was finished he gave Carnelian the leaf-ball. Fern took Carnelian's hesitation for pride. Unwilling to explain his feelings, Carnelian turned Fern and began rubbing at his back. The only other man he had ever done this for was Osidian.

  They said nothing to each other as they made the weary climb up through the Grove. Carnelian's heart warmed as his eyes fell on the spreading beauty of what he allowed himself, for the first time, to consider his mother tree. When they reached the edge of her earth, they removed their shoes which they had done their best to clean. Both groaned with pleasure as they sank their feet into the fragrant carpet of needles. Side by side they headed for the hearth, where they could see people already gathering for the evening meal.

  When Carnelian came to a halt, Fern stopped too. 'What's the matter?'

  'Osidian,' Carnelian said bleak with the realization that he had almost forgotten him. He peered up towards the sleeping hollows. Shapes were moving there, but none that could have been Osidian. He remembered Fern and squeezed his shoulder. 'You go on ahead, I'll join you as soon as I can.'

  Without waiting for an answer, he began climbing the slope. His steps faltered as he neared their hollow. He recalled the day spent with Fern, the intimacy of their washing, and felt he had already betrayed Osidian. He took the final steps and looked down into the hollow.

  Osidian was lying in it asleep. For several heartbeats, Carnelian regarded him, moaning as his mind touched on a yearning that Osidian should not be there at all. The sound made Osidian stir. As he opened his eyes, Carnelian fought the desire to hide.

  'Are you well?' he said with a voice that did not seem his own.

  Osidian turned his head to look at him. Carnelian was transfixed by the green-eyed stare. He managed to find his tongue. 'Have you eaten?'

  'You eat their filthy food, I will not.'

  Carnelian saw the two cakes he had left there that morning were still untouched. The confusion of his emotions fused to anger. 'If you will not eat, my Lord, then you shall die.'

  'So be it,' Osidian answered in an eerie voice. His eyes narrowed, seeing something behind Carnelian, then they closed.

  Turning, Carnelian saw it was Fern.

  'My mother sent me to fetch you.'

  Carnelian turned back to Osidian. How much did his behaviour stem from jealousy? Carnelian felt wretched. 'Please come with us?'

  Osidian seemed asleep. Carnelian tried to find an argument that might bring him back, but Fern's presence was making that impossible.

  'What's the matter with your brother?' the Plainsman asked.

  Carnelian turned on him. 'Nothing!'

  Fern's shock at his tone upset Carnelian. Knowing Osidian was listening made Carnelian reluctant to apologize. He felt trapped between them. Unable to speak, he pushed past Fern and made off in the direction of the hearth.

  Ignoring the stares, Carnelian marched up between the rootbenches towards the fire. There was a gap in the line of men and boys where he and Fern had sat the night before. Reaching it, he sat down and focused his gaze on his hands. Grime still clung to the fine cracks in his skin. He felt Fern brushing against him as he sat down. Carnelian busied himself prising rinds of dried blood from under his nails. The smell of iron evoked Osrakum; spilling into his mind the usual horror and yearning.

  'Fern. Carnie.' His name was charming in Akaisha's accent. Carnelian raised his eyes and looked past Fern to the head of the hearth where she was smiling at them.

  'We were told you worked hard today.'

  Carnelian gave her a smile. Whin at her side was stony-faced.

  'It's only the first day of many,' said Fern, gruffly.

  Carnelian glanced round at him. A blush of ochre lingered on Fern's face. Their eyes locked. Carnelian was the first to disengage. He knew he could not explain his anger to him. A bad end to an otherwise promising day.

  Across from him, Sil was regarding them both with a fixed concentration. Carnelian feared she was seeing how he felt towards her man. She looked weary. Traceries of red earth incised her arms and hands.

  He tried a smile. 'You seem to have been working hard yourself.'

  Sil stared for a moment, but her face softened to a lovely smile that made Carnelian warm to her. She gave a nod, then looked shyly down at her hands and then up at him. 'No doubt you'll find out yourself in time ... Carnie.' She flashed a bright row of teeth. The repair of the ditches is a task the men share with us.'

  Sil's friendliness smoothed some of the tension out of Carnelian's shoulders. He sank back into the domestic comfort of the hearth chatter as food was passed down the line. He saw again the thin Twostone girl and smiled at her.

  When the girl had passed on, Carnelian leaned across to Sil. 'What's her name?'

  Sil shrugged. 'She's not said a word since we found her living wild in her koppie.'

  Fern interrupted them by putting the first bowl in Carnelian's hands. Turning, Carnelian offered it to Ravan. The youth scowled at him.

  The Master's not eating?'

  This was the last thing Carnelian wished to discuss. 'He's still recovering from his fever.'

  'How's he going to get better if he doesn't eat?'

  Carnelian offered the bowl again. 'Go on, take it.'

  Ravan continued to scowl at him. Fern leaned out to look at his brother. Take the cursed thing. What's wrong with you?'

  The youth turned his scowl on Fern.

  'Ravan, do as your brother says,' Akaisha said, loudly. In response, her son snatched the bowl so violently it spilled half its contents over Carnelian. He jumped up, scalded. Fern leapt up.

  'You stupid, little -'

  'Sit down, all of you,' cried Akaisha.

  Carnelian sat down and, glowering at each other, Ravan and Fern did so too. The passing of the bowls resumed. When Carnelian got his, he ate, wondering how long he could conceal Osidian's utter rejection of the Plainsmen.

  Carnelian awoke gripped by fear. He struggled to order his thoughts. He had been dreaming he was with Fern watching Osidian die. Carnelian's hand found Osidian's body warm beside him. He listened for his breathing, but could hear only the sighing as the mother tree sifted the breeze through her needled canopy. Her voice was comforting. Through her roof there was a hint of dawn in the colour of the sky. He became aware of the sounds of the Tribe waking. He slipped out from under the blanket, being careful not to disturb Osidian. Carnelian sat for a moment with his arms crossed, rubbing his shoulders, peering at him lying in the hollow. He denied the memory of his dream. He assured himself Osidian would soon give up his fast. As he blew warmth into his hands, he smelled yesterday's blood. He had to go to work. He rose, his body aching all over, dressed, then padded towards the huddle of shapes around the hearth to share their warmth and to have breakfast.

  It was Akaisha who led them down to the Bloodwood Tree with Whin at her side, with Sil and the others of their daughters and grand-daughters following on behind. Carnelian was further back with Fern. Three girls walked behind them, one of them carrying a baby. The little Twostone girl brought up the rear.

  The earther lay beneath the tree, most of its bones now exposed.

  Akaisha wrinkled her nose up at the stench. 'We'll have to finish her today.'

  'We'd have to anyway,' said Whin. 'Crowrane's hunt is supposed to be bringing in another earther today.'

  After everyone's face was painted, Akaisha asked Whin to marshal them to the boulder tables and to make sure the knives were sharp, then she turned to Fern and Carnelian. 'You two know what you have to do.'

  Carnelian removed the new shoes Akaisha had given him before they set off and put on the makeshift ones already stained with gore.

  Sil was standing nearby rocking her baby in her arms. She looked up. 'I'll help them, my mother.'

  Akaisha put a hand on her arm. She shook her head. 'No, Sil. Fern must see this through to the end, alone.'

  She registered Sil's glance at Carnelian and smiled at him. 'I never imagined that any man would choose
to share Fern's punishment.'

  Both women smiling at him made Carnelian embarrassed. 'I owe him.'

  'I don't need your gratitude,' said Fern.

  Those were the first words they had spoken to each other that morning.

  'Nevertheless, I will work at your side until you are released.'

  Fern shrugged. Carnelian yearned to re-establish the easy friendship of the previous day, but remembering his dream, he decided it might be better to leave matters as they were.

  Just before midday, it was Sil who brought Fern and Carnelian food and water as they took their rest with everyone else. Carnelian saw she had the thin Twostone girl to help her. The waif walked behind Sil taking small steps, her whole being focused on the bowl of water she was carrying.

  Fern made a lunge at his wife. 'Come here, let me kiss you.'

  Sil eluded him, grinning. 'Look at the state you're in. I'm not letting you anywhere near me until you wash.'

  Suddenly, water exploded everywhere. Carnelian, who had been watching the play between Fern and Sil with mixed feelings, saw the little girl staring appalled, the bowl lying empty on the earth near her feet. Carnelian went cold. The last time he had seen the expression the girl had on her face was on his brother Tain's face, when Jaspar had deliberately unmasked in front of him so as to ensnare him in a threat of blinding. He followed the girl's unblinking stare to Fern, his dark skin marbled with gore.

  'What's the matter with her?' Fern demanded, clearly unsettled.

  Sil crouched beside the girl. 'Why did you drop the bowl?'

  The girl did not seem to be aware the woman was even there. Carnelian thought he understood. He looked Fern in the eye. 'Most likely she witnessed her people being butchered by Manila.'

  Fern's face blanked with understanding. Pale, Sil had turned to look at him and now turned back to the little girl. She gently stroked some hair from the girl's temples. 'It's all right, little one,' she said gently, but the girl just kept on staring.

  'Make her stop,' Fern said.

  Carnelian approached the girl and knelt in front of her. She looked right through him. He moved aside to let her see Fern again. 'He's a friend. He's your friend. The blood comes from there.' He pointed at the earther corpse stretching out from behind the tree, and she turned to look at it, then back at Fern.

  Her eyes, so unnaturally large in her thin face, put a lump in Carnelian's throat. He smiled at her. 'What's your name?'

  The second time he asked the question he was rewarded by her focusing on him. He indicated himself. 'You see, I'm just as filthy as he is. You're safe.' He would have hugged her if he had not been cohered in blood.

  To everyone's surprise, the little girl said something. Carnelian did not understand and glanced urgently at Sil, who shrugged.

  'I believe she's telling you her name. Poppy.'

  Carnelian turned his attention back to the girl. 'Is that right? Is your name Poppy?'

  The girl stared so deep into his eyes, Carnelian felt she was looking at his soul. When she surfaced, she gave him the tiniest of nods.

  When they returned to their labours, Poppy sat beneath the Bloodwood Tree and did not once take her eyes off Carnelian. Any time he paused to glance back, he would find her there, gazing at him. At first he found it unsettling, but as the day wore on, he realized, with surprise, that if he had found her interest in him gone, he would have been disappointed.

  He and Fern had, over the day, disassembled the remains of the earther, dragging the bones like logs. All that was left was the immense beaked head with its flaring crest and horns: clearly too heavy for them to move.

  'What do we do with that?' asked Carnelian.

  Fern frowned at him. 'We wait until they bring in the next one.' With that, he turned to walk towards the shade of the tree. Carnelian caught up and walked at his side. Glancing at Fern's gory, resolute face, Carnelian knew he would get nothing more out of him.

  Sil came to the edge of the tree shade to meet them. 'Mother Akaisha says you might as well wash while we wait for the new earther to come in.'

  Her husband acknowledged what she said with a gruff nod and walked on past her. Carnelian saw with what concern she watched him move away.

  'Why's he so morose?' he asked her.

  'He can't be brave all the time,' she snapped and looked at him as if had said something callous.

  Carnelian was taken aback. He had sensed that Fern had reconciled himself to his punishment. Seeing the pain that lay behind her anger, Carnelian did not feel he could ask and, instead, went off to wash with Fern. Poppy eyed him as he walked sighing with pleasure at the cool relief from the sun. He smiled when he heard her creeping after him. When he turned, she froze.

  'Could you please fetch us water to wash with, Poppy?'

  When the girl nodded, he jogged to catch Fern. They walked together in silence.

  'Poppy's bringing us water,' Carnelian said.

  Fern turned, frowning. 'You mustn't get too attached to her. She has the kind of prettiness the Gatherer likes.'

  When Poppy brought them water, Carnelian's gratitude made her look at her feet as she handed it to him. She stood and watched him and Fern washing each other. When they were clean, they went to sit with their backs against the tree, surveying the dazzling plain beyond the Outditch. Poppy followed them and sat herself near Carnelian. Remembering Fern's warning, he tried to take no pleasure in having her there.

  Later, a dozen aquar appeared in the gate that was flanked by earther horns and that opened from the fern-meadow onto the plain. They approached, crushing the ferns in a wide arc. Ropes hitched to their crossbeams pulled taut radiuses from a common centre. The riders kept looking back over their shoulders. When they had come closer, Carnelian was able to see the boulder of flesh and hide with which they were ploughing up the meadow: another vast earther. Riders trotted up to the head of the butchered one and, slinging ropes over its horns, they made their aquar tow it away. The drag-cradles with their heaped rotting gore were hitched up and pulled away too. Soon the new earther was being tugged into position on the rusty earth under the Bloodwood Tree. The riders showed it off to the women, proudly. Among them he saw Krow and they exchanged smiles. Someone beside the youth scolded him. Startled, Krow looked round at two riders who Carnelian realized were Loskai and Crowrane. Father and son fixed Carnelian with a look of hatred that chilled him to the bone.

  Poppy trailed after Carnelian as he returned with Fern, Akaisha, Whin and the others to their hearth. As he came within sight of the mother tree, anticipation of seeing Osidian filled him with dread. He put his hand on Fern's shoulder.

  Tm going to see my brother.'

  Fern nodded and Carnelian glanced round at Poppy, who had stopped a few steps down the rootstair and was gazing up at them.

  'Could you please take her with you?'

  Fern shook his head disapprovingly, but smiled. Carnelian crouched and beckoned Poppy. The girl came slowly up the steps. Even crouching, Carnelian had to look down at her.

  'Will you go with Fern, Poppy?'

  The girl looked up at the Plainsman and then back at Carnelian, then gave a solemn nod. Fern offered her his hand. She would only take it when Carnelian gave her a nod of approval. He let them go ahead of him. He could not help smiling each time she glanced round to make sure he was following. He parted company with them when they reached the rootearth of their hearth. He gazed off at his sleeping hollow, hesitated and, then, reluctantly, began walking towards it.

  Even though he had anticipated finding Osidian weakened, what Carnelian saw shocked him. The body lying long and pale in the hollow did not give the impression of someone sleeping, but rather seemed a corpse lying in a sarcophagus.

  Leaping into the hollow, Carnelian bent over it. He sought a pulse on the neck; the bony wrist. Unsure he could detect any life, Carnelian began shaking Osidian with ever increasing violence, until, coughing, he came alive. His green eyes swam. Carnelian felt himself being examined. Osidian's forehead cr
eased.

  'It's you,' he sighed.

  Carnelian was shocked by how quickly he had deteriorated. 'You must eat,' he said. He leaned close and looked into the glass of Osidian's eyes. 'You must eat.'

  Carnelian stumbled to his feet and almost broke into a run so that he might not hear Osidian forbidding him. People were gathering for the evening meal. He saw Akaisha with Whin and others of the women talking among the steam and smoke rising from the pots.

  'Akaisha,' he said as he approached. 'Mother.'

  The women all looked at him. He could see his fear reflecting in their eyes. Akaisha reached up to touch his face. 'What is it, Carnie? Why do you stare so?'

  Carnelian calmed himself. 'Osidian, my ... my brother, he is dying.'

  Whin's face became leather. 'He's been keeping to your sleeping place, lying between the roots like one already dead.'

  Carnelian searched Akaisha's eyes. He did not want to believe she wanted him to die, though he understood how it would rid her of a burden.

  'He's not eaten since we arrived and was already weakened by the fever. You will let me take some food for him?'

  Whin spoke: 'No one has stopped him coming to eat with us.'

  Carnelian did not want to explain why Osidian had not. 'He's not like me.'

  Akaisha nodded slowly, her eyes seeming to search deep into him. 'Even though you are brothers.'

  Carnelian looked away ashamed of his lie and saw Whin, her lips pressing tight with disapproval. He looked down at the pots.

  Take as much as you need,' Akaisha said.

  Those not prepared to work should not expect the Tribe to feed them,' said Whin.

  Carnelian grimaced.

  Akaisha patted Carnelian's shoulder. 'Carnie has been working hard enough for the both of them. Go on, take him some broth.'

  Carnelian looked for a ladle, a bowl. It was Sil who found them for him. She began to take food from a pot.

  'Not so much,' he said. 'He'll not eat much if he eats at all.'