The Standing Dead sdotc-2

by Ricardo Pinto

  The group resumed their climb behind Akaisha, who now had a baby in her arms. The children clung to their parents' hands. As the group left the stair, they fanned out towards the sleeping hollows. Akaisha caught Carnelian's eye and beckoned him. Obeying her, he was forced to pass through the others. They moved from his path as if he were a leper.

  'I can't speak the soldier tongue,' Akaisha said as he approached.

  'If you don't speak fast, I'll understand your Ochre… my mother,' he replied.

  Her eyebrows raised. 'You really do speak our tongue.' She frowned. 'Walk with me.'

  She led him towards the stair of roots and soon they were descending it side by side. Everywhere Carnelian glanced, he found eyes. He was glad it was necessary to fix his gaze on his feet, to find a way down the uneven steps.

  'We call this stair the Blooding,' Akaisha said.

  Carnelian could not help noticing some women undressing under a cedar, their skin smooth and brown in the deepening shade. There was a glint of water as they began to wash each other. A breeze from the east drifted a mist of cooking smoke across his path. Its smell reminded Carnelian's stomach of how hungry he was.

  'We'll eat soon,' said Akaisha as if she had heard his thoughts.

  'It was kind of you to…' Carnelian could not find the next word.

  'You're not the way we imagine you to be,' she said.

  'We must be… disappointing.'

  She stopped to look up at him surprised. 'In what way?'

  'You believe us angels… and now see we're only men.'

  Her eyebrows rose again, causing Carnelian to feel he had been caught saying something childishly conceited. She reached up and he allowed her to touch his cheek.

  'You really are just a man,' she said. 'And, though your beauty is unsettling, your face is not the lightning which we believed you hid behind your masks.'

  She resumed their journey down the winding stair. 'But it was not that which I meant. It is your manner that is unexpected. The other, he is what we expect of your kind. But you… you are almost like one of us.'

  'I speak your tongue… a little.'

  'No, there is something else.'

  'I grew up among Plainsmen.'

  They had almost reached the foot of the slope so that they could gaze out from under the cedar canopy across the ferngardens, golden in the dying sun. The easterly caressing them was rich with the perfume of the magnolias. Carnelian felt an ache of joy that forced him to stop and close his eyes. It was as if he had come home after being a long time away.

  He sighed. 'It is so peaceful here.'

  Tell me of this servant woman who spoke our tongue,' Akaisha said.

  Carnelian opened his eyes to look at her. Her upturned face had a tightness around the eyes and mouth that made it clear this was the reason for their walk. Seeing how vulnerable she was, Carnelian considered his words carefully. He began to relate everything he knew about Ebeny and of his childhood with her across the sea.

  'So far away,' Akaisha breathed, staring tlas if she were seeing the island at the other side of the world.

  She came back. This Ebeny spoke our tongue and she wove our patterns. Was there anything else she had from her people?'

  Carnelian saw the yearning in Akaisha's eyes and, as desperately as she, he wanted to give her some proof. He closed his eyes and searched his memory. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand. 'She… she…' He calmed himself. 'Her mother…'

  Akaisha gave an eager nod of encouragement while Carnelian tried to stitch the words together in his mind so that he could utter them in a piece. 'Her mother gave her a stone woman.' He showed the size of it in his hands. 'She called it her Little Mother.'

  With her free hand Akaisha pulled something out from her robe. Carnelian made to take it but she snapped it into her fist and pulled away from him. Her eyes burned. 'You mustn't touch it. A man must never touch a sacred image of the Mother.'

  Carnelian was glad he had not told her that Ebeny had given him her Little Mother to keep him safe on his journey to Osrakum.

  'All Plainswomen have these from their mothers,' she said, slumping down onto a root.

  Carnelian shared her bitter disappointment. 'I can think of nothing more.' He sat down beside her, resting his chin in his hand. Something occurred to him. This woman -'

  'My sister.'

  'Did you send other girls that year?'

  Akaisha looked at him with hope. 'She was the only one. The other four were boys.'

  Carnelian controlled his excitement. He showed her his palm. 'Do you remember her tattoo?' He almost groaned when he saw Akaisha's expression of strain.

  'If I drew it for you?'

  'Perhaps.'

  Carnelian searched around for something to write on. 'Mud,' he said at last.

  She understood and led him down to the path running alongside what she told him was the Homeditch.

  'Wait here,' she said. She found a path down into the ditch and had soon disappeared into its gloomy depths. He waited and then she returned cradling a pool of muddy water in her hands. She found a piece of ground still bathed in the last red light of day. He cleared it of needles and she poured the water over it. Crouching, Carnelian smoothed the mud and carefully drew out the glyphs Ebeny had on her hand: Eight Nuhuron. He drew back to allow Akaisha to have a look. He chewed his lip as she peered at it. At last she turned to him, nodding, a look of almost girlish wonder on her face.

  'It is the same.'

  She looked away to the scarlet horizon. The east wind made her salt earrings clink. When she turned back she was frowning.

  'When the Assembly voted, most of the men and some of the women voted for your deaths.'

  'Mother Harth?'

  'She will never forgive the killing of her son. I carried most of the women against her and we won, but we bought you only a momentary reprieve. Those who voted with me did so from fear of what might come from killing angels. It will not take them long to see you are flesh and blood.'

  Carnelian's stomach clenched. His hopes had come to nothing. He felt a pang of regret that he had not after all returned to his father in Osrakum, but he dismissed this, knowing he could never have abandoned Osidian to die alone. There was nowhere else to go. He managed to find a smile for her. 'I only wish I could have told Ebeny that I met you; that I saw her people and her home.'

  Akaisha was watching him. 'I can save you.'

  Hope surged in Carnelian.

  'I could adopt you into my hearth.'

  'I don't understand.'

  'Within our ditches, each hearthmother rules the children of her hearth.' 'Surely the Elders -'

  She shook her head. The Assembly has no authority over a hearth nor over a hunt outside the Koppie.'

  'But the Elders punished Fern.'

  'It was I who set his punishment. He appeared before the Assembly merely to give an account of your journey.'

  Carnelian considered everything she had said. 'Why would you do this, my mother? Surely this will bring you nothing but trouble.'

  'You helped save the souls of my husband and my eldest son. Even if you had not, I would do this to keep the honour of my son who brought you here. Beyond all this, I will save you because my long-lost sister loves you.'

  'You only have my word that that is so.' Akaisha smiled. 'My sister wouldn't have taught you our tongue unless she loved you. As much as you say you consider her your mother, she must have considered you her son.'

  'Will the rest of your hearth welcome me?'

  She grew grave. They'll accept my decision because they must, but it might take a while before you are welcome.'

  'And my friend?'

  She gave him a sharp look. 'You mean your brother?' 'Fern told you that?'

  She nodded, still wary. When he said nothing, she said, 'I've been wondering why if you are brothers he doesn't also speak our tongue.'

  'He never knew Ebeny.' Carnelian saw in her eyes that her welcome for Osidian was conditional on his relationship with him. H
e could not risk the truth.

  'We were separated at birth.'

  Akaisha still looked unconvinced. 'I do not believe he will settle in among us easily.'

  Carnelian took one of her hands. 'Don't judge him too harshly, my mother. His life has been very different from mine. Besides, he has been ill and is not yet fully recovered.'

  Akaisha's face softened. 'My son Ravan seems fond of him.'

  Carnelian bit his lip and let that pass without comment. 'If it had not been for him, none of us would have made it here.'

  She paused some moments, examining him, so that he began to fear she did not believe him. 'For your sake, he may join us too.'

  Carnelian looked at his feet, ashamed of his deceptions; overcome by her kindness.

  'Will you enter my hearth?'

  As he looked up at her, a feeling of dread rose in him as if something fearful lurked on the edges of this decision. He mastered himself. There was no other way.

  'Gladly,' he said giving her hand a squeeze.

  'What's your name?' Akaisha asked Carnelian as they climbed the rootstair back up to her tree. 'Carnelian,' he said.

  Her try at the Quya made him smile. 'Your accent is the same as Ebeny's.'

  Her eyes sparkled. 'Is this strange name what my sister called you?'

  'She called me many things.' He grinned. 'But the name she used for me; that the household used for me…' He winced at that reminder of what was the usual nature of the relationship between their two peoples. He felt she was trying hard not to judge him.

  'My Plainsman hearthkin called me Carnie.'

  'Well, that's what your new hearthkin shall call you too.'

  When they reached her cedar, Akaisha stopped him. Carnelian watched her survey the branches with a loving gaze.

  'Behold my mother tree,' she said. 'Incarnation of all my mothers. She's been here since the world was born, her roots reaching deep into Mother Earth. The women of my lineage have lived their lives out in her shade. In death, they've lain among her roots with which she has drawn their souls up into her so that, sometimes, you can hear their voices speaking from her leaves. Her shade defines our hearth's sacred rootearth. Only here may you walk barefoot as I may go uncovered.' She drew the russet blanket back, revealing black hair veined with silver all worked through with salt beads. Take care you treat her well.'

  Carnelian stooped to remove his shoes, glad of the distraction to hide the shame he felt from having already sinned against Akaisha's beliefs. Not only had he followed Osidian's lead to stand unshod upon the earth but he had done nothing when Osidian led Ravan into sacrilege. Should he warn her of the unhealthy influence Osidian had over her son?

  Laughing, Akaisha snatched one of his makeshift shoes away. 'Where did you get this?'

  Carnelian explained that Fern had made it for him.

  'Well, we'll have to see if we can't do better than that, won't we?'

  A mutter of talk and some laughter came from the direction of the hearth. Carnelian could see people gathered there and that Osidian was not among them.

  Akaisha looked grim. 'And now you will meet your new hearthkin and share your first meal with us.'

  'I should go and fetch my brother.'

  'As you will. It is our custom to wash before we eat.' She must have seen his uncertainty, for she added, 'I shall send Ravan to show you where to wash.'

  Half bowing to her, Carnelian made for his sleeping hollow. He found Osidian laid out in it as if in a tomb.

  'Are you awake?'

  Osidian's eyes when they opened seemed windows into a cave.

  Carnelian explained Akaisha's offer and how it would save them from the Elders.

  Osidian frowned. 'Have you not yet grown weary of fraternizing with savages?'

  The haughty Quya stung Carnelian to anger. 'I have just had to lie to those savages to save your life.'

  Footfalls approaching made him jump. Turning, he saw it was Ravan. Thankfully, they had been speaking in Quya. The boy looked past Carnelian at Osidian.

  'Master, my mother invites you to come and eat with us.'

  'Will you show me, Ravan, where I may wash?' Carnelian said. Still waiting for Osidian to answer, the youth ignored him so that Carnelian took him by the arm. 'Show me.'

  Pulling his arm free, Ravan scowled, but he led Carnelian towards the trunk of the cedar where a large earthenware jar was wedged between the roots. Ravan plucked one of the leather bowls lying flattened against the tree and, opening it, set it down by the jar. He grated the lid off, took a ladle that hung above it, dipped it in and began to fill the bowl. When this was half full he hung up the ladle and then turned to Carnelian his hands on his hips. 'Do you need help?'

  Carnelian shook his head. 'Go join your kin.'

  It irritated him when he saw Ravan ignore him again and go straight back to Osidian in the hollow. Carnelian scooped up some water from the bowl and rubbed it over his face and neck. His fingers touching his scar increased his irritation. He had betrayed Akaisha already by lying to her. Glancing back he saw Osidian sitting up talking to Ravan. He wondered if it could be jealousy that made him uneasy about their relationship. He dismissed the thought. There were more important things to worry about, chief amongst these finding a way to encourage Osidian to accept life among the Ochre.

  Carnelian poured the remaining water over his feet, folded the bowl and leant it back against the trunk. He stood for a moment listening to the murmur of talk, to the laughter coming from the other side of the tree. He began the walk round. His stomach churned as the hearth came into sight. Perhaps thirty people of all ages were sat on the two roots that enclosed the hearth hollow: the men and boys with their backs to him on one root, facing the women and girls sitting in a row along the other. Smoke was rising from the uphill end of the hollow. As he approached boldly they all turned to look at him. Akaisha was sitting uphill where the two roots met in a fork. She motioned him round to enter their gathering at the downhill end of the hollow. He had to walk past the men's backs. The further down their line he went, the younger they became. At the end sat an infant whose legs did not reach the ground. Carnelian circled him, aware of the boy's gaping stare, stepped over the root and came to stand at the open end of the hollow under the full pressure of their scrutiny. They were ranged up the slope: men on his left; women on his right. On the other side of the fire, Akaisha gave him a nod of encouragement. As she rose he felt the release as all heads turned towards her.

  'I have decided to adopt the two Standing Dead into our hearth.'

  This news was greeted with shocked expressions, none more so than Fern's. Whin was glowering at Akaisha but the matriarch ignored her.

  Treat them with courtesy. They themselves have suffered grievously at the hands of their kind and we're in their debt for the kindness they showed our hearthkin.'

  This one is called "Carnie",' she said, causing them all to turn back to look at him. She proceeded to introduce them one by one. He nodded, making sure to look into the eyes of each, struggling to pronounce their names and follow the ways in which they were related to each other. On her left three sisters sat looking much alike, of whom one was Whin; opposite them and on Akaisha's right, their husbands. The introductions moved down the benches on either side, introducing the daughters of the three sisters, two of whom had children on their laps and, sitting across from them, their husbands. Akaisha turned her attention back to the woman's root to point out a daughter of her own who also had an infant, with her young husband sitting facing her. The last young woman, who was clutching a baby, Akaisha introduced as Sil, Whin's daughter.

  'She holds our grand-daughter,' Akaisha said, gazing at Sil's child with adoration. She looked at Fern, who was beaming at her.

  'My son, who is Sil's husband, of course you know already.'

  The news that Fern had a wife and child came as a shock to Carnelian. As Akaisha continued pointing, rattling off the names of the dozen or so children, he tried to hide his confusion by giving his at
tention to each in turn. They gaped at him as if he were a talking aquar.

  'Have I forgotten anyone?' Akaisha asked, smiling.

  People shook their heads.

  'Well, let's eat then.'

  She pointed to a spot near Fern. 'Carnie, sit beside my son.'

  Carnelian obeyed, walking up the centre of the hollow until he reached the space the men had opened beside Fern on the root. He sat down. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware that the boy on his right was staring into the side of his head. Across from him the girls and women were pretending not to be looking at him.

  His attention was drawn to Akaisha as she stamped her foot three times. Thanks be to the Mother from whom this food is born.'

  'And to the Skyfather,' said Whin's husband, glancing up into the heavens, 'who makes her fruitful.'

  Akaisha brought a small ivory box out of her robe. Still frowning, Whin leaned forward to take the lids off pots. Dipping into the box, Akaisha began to sprinkle salt over their food, a pinch at a time.

  'Our men's sacrifice,' she said.

  The hearth echoed her. Akaisha put the box away and sat down on the root fork. Whin stirred each pot and then she and her sisters began ladling their contents out into bowls which they sent down the two lines. Carnelian watched a bowl being passed hand to hand towards him. When Fern gave him it, Carnelian turned, taking care not to spill its contents, and offered it to the boy beside him. The boy gaped at Carnelian, who recognized him as one of the two who had been with Whin when he met her. He offered the bowl again but all the boy did was stare.

  Akaisha's voice carried over to them. 'You know, Blue, dear, if you don't close your mouth you'll end up swallowing a fly.'

  Blue disengaged his eyes from Carnelian and glanced at Akaisha.

  'Yes, my mother,' he said with a nod and, careful not to touch Carnelian's hands, he took the bowl and passed it to a smaller boy sitting to his right.