'I might be able to tell you something about them.'
The youth extended his hand and Carnelian took one of the teeth and peered at it. Its human roots tapered to an animal point. He turned the tooth in the flickering light.
'Filed,' he announced, remembering the teeth of the men who had escorted them from the sea to Osrakum. He looked over at Fern. 'Was there anything strange about these bones you found?'
Fern looked exasperated. 'In what way strange?'
'Were they long?'
'Long?' Fern's eyebrows raised. 'Now you mention it, I suppose they were, but what -?'
'Manila. Is it possible the remains were Manila?' Krow's mouth fell open.
'How could they be?' said Loskai angrily. 'When have Manila ever attacked a koppie? Besides, we're far away from where their lands are supposed to lie.'
They're very tall,' said Fern looking into the darkness as if he were seeing one of the black men standing there. 'I saw one in Makar on our way to the Mountain. I'd forgotten his ravener grin.'
'I'm sure your mother's not forgotten,' sneered Loskai.
Fern tensed and fixed him with a look that made the smile fall from Loskai's lips.
'What about our people?' said Ravan, scowling at Loskai.
Fern turned to his brother with anger still glinting in his eyes. 'We searched the whole koppie, but found no sign of them. It's likely when they arrived it was as it is now and they went quickly home.'
'They left no sign for us? They must've known we'd be through here.'
'None we could find,' said Fern.
'It's likely they believe us dead,' said Loskai.
Ravan looked unhappy. Then we must get back as soon as we can.'
'What are they babbling about now?' Osidian asked in haughty Quyan tones.
Carnelian could see how much the sound of that language oppressed the Plainsmen. 'How they might get home as swiftly as they can.'
Osidian turned to Fern. 'How shall we get to your koppie now?'
'Without aquar…' Fern shook his head.
'Couldn't you obtain aquar from a neighbouring tribe?'
Loskai gave a sneer. 'Do you believe, Master, they would just give them to us?'
'You have enough salt to buy the aquar several times over.'
Loskai patted the shape slung across his back. This was bought with the blood of the Tribe and must not be squandered lightly.'
'Besides, Master,' said Fern, 'we know the nearest tribes are on feuding terms with the Twostone and, thus, with us too. They're more likely to take our salt than accept it in exchange for aquar.' He shook his head and looked round sadly. 'We might as well face it, we're going to have to walk.'
The youths raised a chorus of protest.
'What if these Manila moved south to attack the Koppie?' demanded Ravan.
Fern smiled wanly. The cistern here was drained dry. Loskai and I believe from what we've seen the Manila were here throughout the Withering. We all saw how little water the cistern held when we set off from here with the tributaries. For such a length of time it wouldn't have sustained a large number of them.'
They might've brought water with them,' Ravan threw back at him.
Fern shook his head. 'We saw no evidence they had aquar. Without drag-cradles, they could've carried only a few days' supply'
Ravan looked childlike.. 'Can you promise me the Koppie is safe?'
The pyre we found here contained the bones of many men. However many of them came here, when they left, their numbers were severely reduced by the prowess of the Twostone.' He twitched a smile at Krow.
'Promise me,' Ravan demanded.
Fern frowned. 'How can I do that?'
Ravan opened his mouth to say something more but Loskai spoke over him. 'Your brother's right. Tomorrow we'll gather what supplies we can and begin the journey home on foot.'
Krow demanded Carnelian return the tooth and, when he had it, he put it away with the rest somewhere in his robe.
Fern woke them from disturbed dreams into the first grey of morning. Carnelian could barely make out the faces round him but could hear in their groans how low their spirits were. Several of the youths, glancing in the direction of the massacre, drew his eyes there too. Though he could see nothing, he was glad to turn his back on it and follow Fern across the ferngarden towards the cedars.
Even as they searched for unbroken jars in the glooms beneath the fragrant trees, Carnelian felt the redness oozing up into the sky as if its hem were steeping in the blood of the massacred. He moved quickly into the dusk beneath another tree.
Eventually, homing in on Fern's call, Carnelian converged with the others on a gate in the skull wall at the western edge of the cedar grove.
This was where the bastards came in,' said Ravan, scowling.
Krow lifted his head but said nothing. Carnelian was glad of the koppie crags that stood grimly black between the youth and the massacre. As they sorted through the fernroot they had salvaged, Carnelian noticed with unease the guardian huskman lying discarded to one side staring at him. However much he moved around he could not rid himself of the mummy's attention.
At last they were ready to set off. He had volunteered to carry a waterskin. Each time he took a step he could feel the wobble in its belly of precious water. He had allowed them to tie a bale of fernroot to his back. Winding the uba over his face, he followed them out across the bridge and down an avenue of cone trees.
When he became aware of the grating sound following him, he turned and saw Krow dragging the huskman along the path by a rope. Seeing the tight mask of the youth's face, Carnelian bit back his questions.
When they reached the outmost ditch, they paused a while to prepare themselves for the brightening plain, then Fern led them out of the koppie. The scraping sound the huskman made set Carnelian to grinding his teeth. Then the sound stopped. Turning, he saw Krow standing over the huskman. He kicked it. Again. Again. Soon the huskman was bucking under a general assault as, one by one, the Ochre joined in until, at last, only Carnelian and Osidian remained aloof as they watched the Plainsmen vent their rage on the mummy. It was Fern who called a stop to the punishment. He had to drag Krow off. The youth swung at him, snarling and Fern took some blows before he managed to calm him down. Krow spat upon the huskman, turned away and began walking towards the Backbone ridge. Osidian went after him and, with his huge strides, had soon overtaken him and then they walked together, talking. As he followed with everyone else, Carnelian wondered, uneasily, what Osidian might have to say to Krow. Glancing back he saw the shrivelled, broken man, now food for scavengers.
***
The Backbone ran straight and true into the south. The Earthsky spread eastwards, spangled with lagoons, creeping with herds, to a vague purple fading. In the west, scarred with gullies, the land lay thralled by thorny scrub. In places the rocky road they walked lifted them high into the shimmering air, its stone sweeping up to jagged ridges on either side often too high to look over. In the morning and the afternoon, these often provided blessed shade. When the sun rose high, they would seek to clamber down to the plain or else suffer walking the black rock that would melt the air and scorch their feet even through their shoes. Sometimes the Backbone sank into the red earth, as if it were some immense, burrowing worm. Carnelian took his turn in leading expeditions from the safety of the rocks whenever a nearby source of water was spotted. Even the most brackish tasted like nectar. In the cool of the later afternoon either Fern or Loskai would brave the open plain to hunt with a party of youths. Under Carnelian's command, those who were left behind would build a fire up in the heights and wait anxiously for the hunters. Mostly they would return before nightfall. When they came empty-handed, it would be necessary to consume some of the meagre supplies.
Osidian sank into a morose silence from which Carnelian was unable to raise him. Often he chose to sit alone. Most of the youths seemed to have forgotten him, but Ravan and Krow brought him food or walked at his side during the day. Sometimes, C
arnelian would find Fern regarding Osidian as if he were a puzzle to be solved. When Loskai looked in his direction at all, it was with barely concealed hatred.
The vastness of the Earthsky crushed whatever was left of Carnelian's belief that he was an angel. Osrakum and its splendours seemed faint and far away. These small, dark people toiling at his side were real. Krow's grief like an ache in Carnelian's own heart helped him at last accept he had lost his father and his other kin for ever.
Whenever he spied a koppie hill, Carnelian would long to go there, seeing it as a beguiling island adrift in the ferny ocean. Those of their party that were Ochre would force the rest to redouble their pace. Carnelian would see in their faces the desire to reach their own koppie mix with fear; the fear they talked of was that their kin must believe them dead; the fear they would not admit to was that their tribe might have suffered the same fate as the Twostone.
The Koppie had been wavering in the heat towards the south-east for a while. Carnelian was oppressed by the general anticipation of disaster. Suddenly everyone was shouting, waving, crying. Alarmed, he looked around and saw Fern frowning amidst the tumult, with Ravan dejected at his side. 'What's the matter?'
Fern answered by pointing. Carnelian looked and saw a thread of smoke rising from the Koppie's summit. At first it appeared to be a dark omen, for it seemed much like the smoke he had seen rising on the road to Osrakum that had been a harbinger of plague. Then he remembered what it must be.
They've seen us.'
Fern gave a heavy nod. Thank the Mother, the Tribe is safe.'
Carnelian was unsetded that his friend was not greeting this discovery with joy but then remembered what news it was Fern was bringing home, not to mention that he had with him two of the loathed and fearful Standing Dead.
Ravan looked through his tears towards his home and was slowing his pace.
'She'll not blame you,' Fern said, looking round. 'Neither will the Elders.'
Ravan came to a halt and glared at his brother. 'Who will take the blame then, you?'
Fern grew morose. Ravan resumed his stride, but this time kicking through the ferns. Their exchange had dulled the general celebration. Most of the youths now walked in silence, stealing anxious glances towards the brothers and the Standing Dead, which only served to increase Carnelian's dread of what was to come. He glanced over at Osidian pacing imperiously, but could tell nothing of what he felt as his face was hidden beneath the windings of his uba. Krow walked in his shadow, his gaze fixed unblinking on the Koppie.
They're coming to check us out,' one youth cried in delight.
Riders were appearing from the line of tiny trees beneath the Koppie hill.
'Shall we go and meet them?' another youth asked everyone, his face lit by a childish grin.
Fern frowned. They'll be here soon enough.'
'You seem unhappy to be home, barbarian,' said Osidian, speaking from his shroud.
Fern looked sombre. 'We'll have to answer for our dead.'
'You mean you will,' cried Loskai and he sprinted away.
His action broke the discipline of the youths and, whooping, they coursed after him, leaving only Fern, Ravan and Krow with the Standing Dead.
Fern hung his head.
'We're a burden to you,' said Carnelian.
'Not as great as having to explain to my mother the death of her husband and eldest son.'
A peculiar ululating wafted on the breeze from the bullroarers some of the riders were whirling round then-head. Their movement made Carnelian recall the weapons the Ichorians had used to decapitate the Manila escort on his entry into Osrakum. The riders were not coming any further and were returning to the Koppie, escorting Loskai and the youths. No doubt, at that distance, they had assumed it was Stormrane and his brother who were walking with Fern.
The trees had grown close enough for Carnelian to discern they were lining a wide ditch. Between their trunks, he could see some of the youths and the mounted Ochre already streaming through the ferns that stretched beyond to another wall of trees. People were still taking their turn to cross the ditch on a narrow earthbridge.
By the time Carnelian and the others reached the bridge it was empty. Carnelian followed Fern across, through a gate in the low earth rampart into a ferngarden where people were converging from all directions on their long-lost sons. As Carnelian watched them coalescing into a crowd, he yearned to slip away somewhere. He did not want to darken their joy, nor wish to intrude upon their grief.
They reached the mass of backs. All attention was focused on the youths already at its centre. So many people, hundreds of them, swarthy, reeking of sweat, many rusted with earth as if they had recently emerged from the ground. Several were turning puzzled faces on Carnelian, who sensed the beginnings of unease, annoyance even, as they registered Fern's miserable face and the height of his companions.
A keening broke out from the heart of the crowd that made the excited hubbub falter. More and more faces were turning to watch Fern and his companions. People were drawing back, unable to understand who could be walking with Fern and be so much taller than he. Looking down the corridor opening in the crowd,
Carnelian saw the youths he knew so well being passed round and kissed.
Then, suddenly, the crowd hushed. A group of people were coming through, garbed in russet blankets worked with indigo designs, wrists and ankles loaded with rings and bangles of salt. Some of the group had grey hair matted with feathers and salt beads, the rest had their heads covered, as did every woman Carnelian could see. Loskai was guiding them, half turned towards them so that he was forced to shuffle sideways, nodding with deference and making sure to keep his distance.
As Fern came to a halt, Carnelian found a place at his side. A young woman pushed forward, her eyes accusing Fern. 'Where's my husband?'
'My son?' an older woman demanded of Loskai. She turned on Fern. 'You were supposed to protect them,' she cried, close to hysteria.
One of the covered figures lifted a bony arm and said something that caused Fern's accusers to move aside. The-old woman came to stand before Fern, staring up into his face. She gave a harsh, commanding nod and, with head bowed, Fern fell on one knee before her.
'Where is your father, Akaisha's son?'
Carnelian saw that when the woman talked, everyone listened.
'Among the clouds, Mother Harth.'
Harth looked up at Carnelian and Osidian and as she did so, Carnelian felt the eyes of the whole crowd upon him.
She turned back to Fern. 'Your uncle and your brothers too?'
Confused, Fern looked round, searching, then returned his gaze to the old woman. 'Ravan is here somewhere, my mother. My other brother…' He locked eyes with one of the other old women. A shake of his head spilled tears down her cheeks.
'Who else?' demanded Harth, drawing Fern's attention back to her.
A moaning moved through the crowd as he called out the names of those who had not returned.
Harth hesitated, her hands trembling.
'And it grieves me, my mother, to tell you that Ranegale your son was also lost,' Fern said.
Harth backed into the other Elders. The woman Fern had looked at earlier came forward wiping at her eyes, setting her face.
'Who are these two strangers you've brought among the Tribe, Fern?'
Misery aged his face as he looked up at her. 'Mother, my father, my -'
'The time for mourning will come; first answer my question.'
The way Fern's head sank even further made Carnelian feel wretched for him. Through her grief, the woman's face showed the beginnings of fear as she witnessed Fern's dejection.
'What danger have you brought among us, my son?' she said almost in a whisper.
'Mother, they are… Standing Dead.'
Fern's mother's eyes grew round, her mouth gaped and it was with effort she turned her gaze up to the two shrouded shapes.
A murmur of hysteria was rippling outwards from where they stood.
Carnelian watched Harth as she shook her head slowly looking at them. 'I don't… I can't believe.'
Loskai stepped forward. 'Show them,' he cried in Vulgate. 'Show them what you are.'
Carnelian watched the mixture of pleasure and fear play over the Plainsman's face. Then he became aware Osidian was advancing. Fern plucked Krow from the Master's side and pushed him away into the crowd.
The old women cowered when the apparition came to stand in front of them, so tall they hardly reached his waist. Carnelian saw the contempt in Osidian's hands as they unwound the uba that concealed him.
Gasps gusted from mouths as the Ochre stared with gaping disbelief at the immense white man.
THE ELDERS
As youth has vigour age has wisdom so, is it not natural the aged should rule the young?
(a precept of the Plainsmen)
Loskai strode back and forth before the crowd shouting repeatedly: 'Why do you fear these Standing Dead? They are two, we are many.'
Carnelian could feel their mood already turning to anger, when Loskai stabbed a finger at Osidian.
That one murdered Ranegale. Because of them we lost Stormrane, Thunderskai, Talan, Thunderwing, Windcrow, Fether, Crowskai.'
The Plainsman kept jabbing his finger all the time as he spat out every accusation he could imagine to transform fear into murderous anger. Carnelian glanced at Osidian standing amidst the tumult as unconcerned as if he were alone on a seashore. Carnelian looked around desperately for some escape. Noting where the aquar were, he saw how he and Osidian might pull two riders down and take their place. He glanced back to the outer ditch, imagining riding out onto the plain. But then where? Could they eke out an existence in the wilderness?
A woman cried out, another. Men were roaring. The mob's voice was swelling to a pounding clamour. The veins beating at Carnelian's temples seemed to be making his head shudder with each pulse. He let his gaze range over them. Hatred reddened their faces. Mouths were slavering for blood. Their rabid stares fell on him like blows. He could feel how close their fury was to bursting free.
The Standing Dead sdotc-2 Page 16
