His father only looked up when he heard the footfalls. The ammonite came stumbling back leading a file of Ichorians. Carnelian watched the ammonites line up in front of his father in obedience to his hand's command. 'You have performed your service well. He-who-goes-before thanks you.'
The ammonites all fell into the prostration.
Suth turned to the Ichorians waiting behind. Take them. Destroy them painlessly.'
'My Lord,' cried Carnelian.
His father's hand jerked up, Silence.
'But...'
They have heard too much. They knew this was their fate. It is done today as it is always done.'
Carnelian watched the Ichorians leading the little men off. Only when they had disappeared did his father drop his mask. He hung it on his robe and then looked down at the beadcord in his hand. Carnelian rose and walked to stand in front of him.
His father looked up. 'I hold in my hand our wall of votes. I almost do not dare to count them.'
'Let me do it, Father.'
His father frowned. 'You would have to know how to read the beads.'
Teach me quickly, Father. It does not look too difficult.'
His father showed him how many votes each bead or combination of beads was worth. Carnelian could think of no way to explain that he knew their meaning well and so he pretended to be taught. When his father was finished, Carnelian took the cord. The beads were large, crude, made for insensitive fingers. He began to pay them through his hands, counting.
He ignored the distraction of the sun door opening. He was aware of the clack of ranga coming nearer.
'He counts our votes, my Lord,' his father said to the visitor.
Carnelian counted on, glancing up to see that it was Aurum. 'Eleven thousand nine hundred and eighty-four,' he announced.
His father's eyes closed. 'It is not enough.'
'I might have missed a few.'
'No matter. It is almost a thousand short.'
'We are closer than I expected,' said Aurum. 'Let us not indulge in despondency; there will be time enough for that if we lose.'
Suth looked at him with narrowed eyes. He snorted. 'If we lose, Aurum?'
'Once they are in the Three Lands, many Lords will shift their votes.'
'By a thousand?'
Aurum made a dismissive gesture. 'In the nave, I put a rumour about that Ykoriana intends to extend the franchise to the Lesser Houses.'
Suth smiled a crooked smile. That should put some unease in the hearts of the noble Great.'
'Does My-Lord-who-goes-before wish to go and tell our Lord Nephron of this count?'
Suth smiled again. 'I am without strength for the journey. Besides, my Lord, I am certain you would wish to tell him the good news yourself.'
Aurum frowned and took his leave of them.
Carnelian waited until he was gone before asking, 'Do you share his hope, Father?'
His father shrugged his hands. 'All that can be done, we have done. The result, only the morrow will reveal.' He groaned as he lifted himself up. 'Come, my son, help your weary father to his chambers.'
The ELECTION
Love came I was its fool
There was joy There was sorrow
(love eclogue - author unknown)
Carnelian woke in such perfect silence that until he made a sound he feared he might have gone deaf. Even the shutters were still, as if the sky was holding its breath. A lingering memory of the Yden evaporated like dew. He remembered and felt as if a weight were settling on his chest. The day of the sacred election had finally arrived.
His fingers remembered the beads of the vote count. As he rose, he tried to cling to Aurum's optimism. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what might be within the Chamber of the Three Lands' bronze wall of trees. The Masters would all be there with their wintry eyes, Ykoriana and Molochite, Jaspar and Spinel. He glanced back at the bed recalling a tatter of his dream. He smiled. 'Osidian,' he breathed, wanting to feel the name on his lips. His heart began hammering. Surely, he would be there too. He had to be. All Chosen males of an age to wear blood-rings would vote in a sacred election.
He crouched to wake Tain. He had to shake his brother so long that he was relieved when at last his eyes opened. They snapped closed again as if dazzled by Carnelian's white body. He walked away frowning, wanting his brother back the way he had been.
'Master,' Tain said.
Carnelian looked at him standing there, his eyes looking to the floor. He looked as if he were hanging from strings. 'Please, Tain, would you clean me?' He watched the boy go for the pads and unguents. Today is the day when the Gods will be elected.'
Coming towards him, Tain gave a nod. He began cleaning him.
'You know what that means?'
'No, Master.'
That soon the Rains will come and we'll return to our coomb.'
Tain gave another nod.
'Soon things'll return to the way they were, you'll see. Ebeny'll be here, Keal and Brin and Grane and...' Carnelian stopped, unable to put Crail into the list. He went on. They'll all come up from the sea and we'll make a new Hold here.'
Tain gave a nod. Carnelian looked at him. Cold clutched his stomach. What if all of them were like this when they arrived? Carnelian went to open the shutters to let in some light. He stared for a moment at the dawn sky. Its colours were a promise of a fresh new day, but they also looked like blood.
He turned his back on the sky. Tain was still there, waiting with his head hanging. Carnelian returned silendy to stand in front of him and comforted himself with the hope that he might see Osidian, even if only from afar.
‘
Carnelian sent Tain to see who was rapping at the door. The boy opened it a crack, then bowed deeply as he shuffled backwards to open the door wide.
'My Lord,' said Carnelian seeing that it was his father plugging up the entrance. He had to stoop to come in and seemed to fill the chamber with his gold and rubied robe. Tain had fallen to his knees. Looking down from his great height, Suth spoke.
'Rise, child.'
Tain rose, head still hanging.
'Come, look at me.' Tain looked up. Carnelian watched his father's mask survey his marumaga son from on high. 'We are glad to have you back with us, Tain.'
Tain mumbled something.
'Now go and prepare people to come and dress your brother.'
Tain slipped out and Suth removed his mask. His face was troubled. He threw a glance to the door.
'I told you he had not come through this unscathed.'
His father nodded. 'You will have time enough to heal his hurts. Now we must give thought to the day ahead.'
Carnelian withstood the intensity of his father's eyes. He had not felt the pressure of that gaze for an age.
'I have sent commands that the Suth Lords of the other lineages are to come here and take you with them into the Three Lands.'
'I thought, my Lord, I would be there at your side.'
'Even if I were not today He-who-goes-before, I would be sundered from you. At elections, Ruling Lords keep with their peers.'
'What makes my Lord think Spinel will obey him in this when he defies him with his vote?'
Carnelian was glad that the wrath that appeared in his father's face was not turned on him. That Lord will one day give me account for that. How he votes is his business, but I am still his Ruling Lord.' The wrath passed from his face like the shadow of a cloud. 'Come here, my son.'
Carnelian took the steps towards him, feeling his nakedness.
Although his father knelt on his ranga, Carnelian's head only reached his chest. His father took it in his hands. Carnelian looked up into his eyes. He did not see their yellow bloodiness but only the fierce love.
'You know, you are my heart.'
Carnelian's tears distorted his father's face. With a groan of effort, his father managed to bend down to kiss Carnelian's forehead. He let go and rose so that Carnelian's eyes were level with his waist. He took some steps back and hid his
face with his sun-eyed mask.
Today all our fates shall be decided.' Carnelian could hear the sorrow in his father's voice. 'Perhaps, even now, we shall be victorious.'
'Aurum said—'
His father cut his reassurances from his mouth with a scissoring motion of his hand and left.
When Tain returned he came with others and Carnelian was forced to hide his distress behind a stony face. He could not rid himself of the harrowing conviction that his father had come to say goodbye.
As they put him into his court robe he bit his tongue to stop himself from spraying them with bitter words. He could not bear to look at Tain's remote expression. When they were finished he almost snatched his Great-Rings from their hands and, ordering the door open, he strode through it so fast he almost toppled over.
The Ichorians lifted the portcullises for him. Carnelian walked through into the nave and was suddenly among giants.
'Cousin Carnelian,' said a voice he recognized as Spinel's. Carnelian saw him there with the others, the nine Lords of House Suth with their chameleon-cyphered court robes. Carnelian looked past them to the gleaming Great. Beyond, the nave ran empty to the closed door of the Chamber of the Three Lands.
Carnelian bowed his head. 'My Lords. My father told me you would be here.'
Then you have spoken to him today, cousin?' asked one of the Lords.
'I have . . .' Carnelian read the name glyph on his crowns, 'Cousin Veridian.'
The Lord bowed. 'At the service of your lineage, cousin.'
'I am heartened to receive it,' Carnelian said.
'Does our Ruling Lord anticipate victory for his party?'
Carnelian shrugged his hands. 'It hangs in the balance and why should it not when even those of his own House betray him?' He looked at Spinel.
The Lord lifted his right hand to show his blood-ring. This is no mere bauble, my Lord. I will cast its votes as I will. That is my right.'
'And you feel no duty whatever to your Ruling Lord?'
Spinel opened his arms to take in the gleaming concourse. 'Only when we vote does the tyranny of our Ruling Lords lift enough to let us for a moment into the light. Like many others here, I will not be persuaded to walk back into the shadows merely by some rhetoric about family loyalty. Are you making me an offer for my votes, cousin?'
Carnelian controlled his anger, tried to think of something. 'My father is a fair man.' He turned to the other Suth Lords. 'He will treat you as you treat him.'
'I see,' said Spinel. 'So on the basis that your father is a "fair man" you would have me declare myself apostate before all the gathered Great and make the new Gods and Their mother my foes.' He shook his crowned head. 'I think not. I shall honour the agreement I have made with Molochite and we shall see what transpires.'
A Ruling Lord appeared towering at the edge of their group. Carnelian saw the House Imago dragonflies on his robe.
'Internecine conflict within the House Suth, tsk, tsk,' said Jaspar. 'Not that one can own to much surprise, to judge from the lack of care with which its Ruling Lord is wont to treat its interests.'
'My father's interests are his own, Jaspar.'
Looking at Jaspar, Spinel pointed at Carnelian. 'Lord Imago, my kinsman here was attempting to detach me from my agreements.'
'Indeed. That would be foolish, Suth Spinel. One should not lightly abandon one's commitments.'
'Spare us your threats, my Lord,' said Carnelian. 'My kinsman is already determined in his act of treachery. He had better only hope that when this election is over, Ykoriana will be able to protect him from my father's wrath.'
'Carnelian, you should not concern yourself overmuch with that. Once Molochite wears the Masks he will reward his friends and, no doubt, become an inconvenience to those whose lack of foresight led them to become his enemies.'
'We are not afraid—'
Carnelian was interrupted by a chime that shook the air all the way from the Chamber of the Three Lands.
'Aaah, cousin dear, we must discuss your fears some other time. You are summoned into the chamber.'
Another chime rang out. Carnelian waited for its reverberations to dull. 'In spite of all your treacheries, Jaspar, the victory will be ours.'
Jaspar laughed at him through his mask and walked off, dragging a train like a sunset sky.
Carnelian stood rigid, feeling set about with enemies as the bell's pealing shuddered over him. He felt a pulling at his sleeve. He looked up to see his own mask reflected in that of one of the third lineage Lords.
'Come, cousin, we must obey the call of the Turtle's Voice.'
Leading the Suth Lords, Carnelian made his way along the nave as the pealing gusted like a gale. The nave was filling with the processions of the Great like an armada of sails. The bronze trees of the chamber wall rose menacingly ahead. The moat caught their sinister reflection. The Great did not sail across the bridge, for the north-eastern gate was shut. They tacked round towards the south-east, making the gloomy journey to where Carnelian eventually could see the eastern doors were opening like sluice gates, releasing a flickering flood of light. The jewelled oblongs of the Great began bunching as they crossed the bridge accompanied by a shadowy reflected host moving in the moat's black depths. As they passed into the doorway they smouldered and then caught fire.
Carnelian slowed with the others, feeling the dazzle falling on him. A chime hit him with its wave. He began crossing the bridge and saw before him the interior of the chamber filled with a ring of the Lesser Chosen like a lake from which there rose an island fenced about with lantern posts. A wall feathered with fire hedged the Lesser Chosen in. Its whole flickering circuit was breached only where he saw a door open in the north and by the eastern door through which he was entering. Naphtha dragon odour wafted in the swell of the pealing bell.
He looked for the source of all that sound. A mound rose on the low island lying in the midst of the Lesser Chosen. Above this something floated like a summer moon. As he walked towards it down the avenue between the throng, he saw a hammer wielded by syblings hit this moon. It gave out a ripple of sound as if at that moment it had fallen from the sky into the sea. As the vibration rolled over him he faltered and, re-establishing the rhythm of his steps, he became aware of the void above his head. The chamber was open to the night sky. Looking upwards, his eyes could find nothing to see. Fathomless darkness, a dead sky unpricked with stars. He felt its emptiness pouring into his mind through the holes of his eyes and, dropping his gaze, he reminded himself how deep inside the Pillar's rock he was.
He was glad to reach the island's blood-red stone. He had disliked seeing himself twisted in the metal faces of the Lesser Chosen. Steps climbed between the lantern posts, which were tall and slender and grew six branches, each holding aloft a light. He saw the resemblance they bore to the watch-towers he had seen on the road and as he climbed past them he had a notion. The island he had come up onto was a perfect red circle inlaid with a network of silver lines. This was the Guarded Land with its roads. The lantern posts were set around its edge in the positions of the Ringwall cities. The floor of jade and malachite the Lesser Chosen were thronging represented with its greens the encircling lands of the barbarians. The platform that rose at the centre of the chamber seemingly of black glass was fenced by posts carrying the horned-ring of divinity. That was surely Osrakum with its Sacred Wall. The carved stone bell that hung above it in the black air was the Turtle's Voice, and, like the Pillar of Heaven, a connection between earth and sky. The chamber was a wheelmap made stone, the Commonwealth become geometry, the Three Lands captured within a ring of fire.
As the Great began to cover the platform of the Guarded Land, Carnelian led the Suth Lords along its rim, until he found the post in the north-west that represented Nothnaralan. From this the silver line of the Great Sea Road ran towards the Osrakum platform. Carnelian leaned on the lantern post and saw the road run down to be lost among the Lesser Chosen. He found Maga-Naralante, a spire rising in their midst, and a
gainst the chamber's flaming wall, Thuyakalrul's post.
'What are you doing, my Lord?' asked Tapaz.
Carnelian had forgotten the other Lords. 'I was looking for my past,' he said. Around them the Great were obscuring the red stone with their gold. Already he could not see over their heads to the avenue he had come along but only the upper part of the eastern door.
The Turtle's Voice fell silent. A muttering seemed to be coming from the Chosen but as Carnelian listened it grew into an insistent modulating grumble. It was the firewall singing a slow, sonorous song. It soaked into him. The rumble of the chanting slid up to a peak, down and up again and took his heart with it.
When the other sound started he gasped with shock. A whining at first that tore into a braying, ululating cry. More shawms joined their voices to it, interweaving, fraying into great vibrating surfaces of sound. He saw the mirror faces round him turning to the north-east to where a black doorway was opening in the firewall. Out from the darkness came a light, a flaming apparition. A green path opened up in front of him. The shawms slid in a shrilling pitch, shredding the air as He-who-goes-before came coruscating, towering through the Lesser Chosen. His lictors walked before him, holding up his standards like glowing coals. Carnelian worried that their support was out of his father's reach, but his progress seemed as relentless as a comet's through the sky as he pulled a flaming tail of the Ruling Lords of the Great with their lightning crowns.
Then his father was hidden. Carnelian could still follow the red eyes of his standards above the heads of the Great. As his father climbed onto the Guarded Land, the opaque pulsing brilliance of the shawms swelled louder. The sunburst of his father's head rose into sight and slid across Carnelian's vision and then, preceded by his lictors, moved up and through the horned-ring fence to stand facing the Turtle's Voice.
The Chosen - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 01 Page 56
