The Standing Dead sdotc-2

by Ricardo Pinto

  Akaisha asked Whin to go up to the summit of the Crag and light the beacon. She went with some helpers. Akaisha and Carnelian's attention was drawn to the root-stair by a shouting coming up it. Sil appeared staring wildly. They both rushed to meet her. Akaisha had to take hold of her to calm her enough so they could understand what she was saying.

  'Battle,' she gulped. She swung round and pointed. 'A battle down in the Eastgarden.'

  'Our men?' demanded Akaisha, gripping her hard enough to make Sil yelp. The young woman nodded. Akaisha released her and looked up into the canopy of her mother tree, appalled. Cries of panic were breaking out all around them. Sil stared at Akaisha, waiting for her to say something.

  'We must hold the Homeditch gates.'

  Sil nodded again. Akaisha strode around, bellowing: 'Grab mattocks, sticks, whatever you can find. We must hold the Homeditch gates to make sure none of these attackers break into the Grove.'

  Carnelian ran for his spear. On his way back, Poppy flew at him.

  'Fighting, Carnie, fighting!'

  He caught her. 'I know.'

  Gripping the spear with one hand, he took her by the other and they began descending the rootstair. Sil, who was faster on the steps, overtook them. 'Come on,' she cried.

  Carnelian remembered Akaisha and, looking back, found she was coming down after them. They waited for her. He reached out to take Akaisha's arm, to be her support, but she pulled herself free, glaring at him, and continued to take the steps as quickly as she could on her own. Carnelian and Poppy followed her, ready to catch her should she fall, every so often nervously trying to catch a view of the battle through the branches.

  Even before they reached the bottom of the stair they saw the gate at its foot was swinging open. 'Earth and Sky!' Akaisha cursed. 'Didn't they hear what I said?'

  When they reached the earthbridge they saw the women of the Tribe streaming down the Blooding towards the Eastgarden above which the air was slashed with smoke. Stare as hard as he might, Carnelian could see nothing of the battle. Akaisha bent forward, bracing herself on her knees.

  'You know of course what this will be?' The Woading attacking.'

  She closed her eyes and nodded slowly, gasping for air. 'War,' she gulped. The Master's brought war right into our home.'

  'He'll beat them,' Carnelian said, desperate to believe it.

  She caught him with one bright eye. 'More men killed; theirs and ours. For what? His vanity?'

  Carnelian felt sick; the moment had come. 'Power. He's after power.'

  She frowned.

  Carnelian crouched and looked deep into her eyes. 'He dreams of returning to the Mountain.'

  Akaisha's wrinkles bunched up as her eyes narrowed with incomprehension.. 'For that he needs an army,' he continued.

  Akaisha chuckled without humour. 'Our men against the dragons?'

  'He'll conquer many tribes.'

  'Conquer?'

  'Even now his schemes are maturing. There's not much time.'

  Akaisha clasped her head. 'But what can we do to stop him? If he wins this battle…? If he doesn't…?'

  'We can do nothing here,' he said, rising. 'We must stop the women getting caught up in the fighting.'

  As they crossed the earthbridge into the Eastgarden, Carnelian and Akaisha could see among the trampled ferns the dead forming a line running to the Newditch. The women were singing as they ran to meet their warrior men. The proud victors were pulled from their saddle-chairs into embraces. Several were acting out the fight while their women and the children gawped wide-eyed. Breath was sucked in and hands slapped over mouths in horror as one man ducked and then leaning his head showed where an enemy spear had grazed his neck. Another man was producing gales of laughter as he pantomimed the flight of the Woading and the desperate way they had had to leap their aquar over the Newditch to get away.

  Carnelian and Akaisha had reached the edge of the crowd when cries broke out: The Master, the Master.' Carnelian pushed through, making a path for Akaisha. He could see Osidian towering above the crowd, whose tide was breaking round him in adulation. Joy blazed from every face.

  Akaisha, shouting something, could not be heard above the tumult. Carnelian saw a man standing with a bull-roarer and tore it from his grasp. He whirled the thing above his head until it began to keen. The crowd fell silent.

  'You must not worship him,' Akaisha cried. 'He uses us for his own ends.'

  Voices answered her by listing the children the Master had saved, the abundance of meat and now, victory.

  'Victory, victory, victory.'

  Carnelian whirled the bull-roarer again to bring quiet.

  'Why do you think he does these things for us?' Akaisha cried. 'What is it you think he wants?'

  The rest of her speech was drowned out by whistling and stamping.

  Galewing rose above the crowd in a saddle-chair and began speaking. The noise abated as people struggled to hear what he said. Hands reached up to stroke his aquar, whose eye-plumes were stiff with agitation.

  The Woading crept here last night so they might treacherously attack us when we were gathered making djada. They've received only what they deserve.'

  Carnelian was sure the Elder noticed Akaisha attempting to get his attention but he chose to focus on the crowd's roar of approval.

  Galewing pressed his hands against their noise. 'Should we let them off so lightly?' 'No!' the crowd bellowed.

  'Shall we seek compensation and a promise they'll never attack us again?' 'Yes!'

  Galewing swung around in his saddle-chair. 'Who'll ride with me to the koppie of the Woading?'

  For answer men vaulted back into their saddle-chairs and soon they were all aloft, seeming to float on the fevered applause of their women.

  Carnelian saw Fern was there, taking his leave of Sil. He cried out his name until he was hoarse.

  'We'll return tonight,' cried Galewing. 'Prepare a feast of thanksgiving.'

  Fern saw Carnelian and his mother and, colouring with shame, he turned away. Osidian was mounted in their midst, Ravan and Krow beside him; then, with Galewing, they led the Ochre in a thundering mass across the ferngarden. Akaisha was gazing up towards the brow of the Crag, from which smoke was rising. She turned to look at him and he could see the fear in her eyes. As the women saw their men disappearing into the plain, Akaisha moved among them, sending the Bluedancing back to tending the curing fires while she, with some others, set about gathering the bodies of the Woading dead.

  Carnelian was hiding from his feelings by labouring among the Bluedancing when Akaisha found him. She indicated he should follow her. They walked off together.

  'I've just received news that riders have been seen heading here,' she said.

  'Ours?'

  'Most likely.'

  'All of them?'

  She shook her head. 'Only a handful.' They looked at each other. 'You think it might be the Master.'

  She frowned, shrugging. 'An Assembly has been called.'

  She looked up into his face. 'Carnie, you must tell them what you told me.'

  He bowed his head nodding. There was no other way to stop Osidian.

  Akaisha breathed her relief. 'Let's go then. We must hurry if we're going to make it before he gets here.'

  Akaisha left Carnelian standing on the porch of the Ancestor House and went in. Shortly afterwards, Carnelian was told to enter.

  It took a while for his eyes to adjust enough to see the Elders squatting round him. He looked for Akaisha and found her in her place. Their eyes met.

  'Why're you here, Carnie?'

  To warn you of the Master's intentions.'

  'Why would you betray your own kind?' asked Harth.

  To save the Tribe.'

  Harth laughed coldly. 'You expect us to believe this?'

  'Mother Harth, would you believe me if I told you there are people here I've grown to love?' He allowed himself a glance at Akaisha, then returned his gaze to Harth's face.

  'A pretty speech,'
she said through a sneer.

  T believe it to be a true one,' said Akaisha. Tell us what you told me, Carnie.'

  Carnelian steeled himself. The Master manipulates you. He plots to change your world, to put himself at its centre.'

  'Why would he do this?' demanded Kyte. The lust for power is in the blood of all the Standing Dead.'

  Though you, of course, are different,' said Harth. Carnelian grimaced. 'I was brought up by one of your own.'

  Harth raised her eyes up to the ceiling as if to say, "that again", but she made no sound.

  'You don't answer,' grumbled Crowrane.

  The Master intends to conquer himself an empire in the Earthsky.'

  The Standing Dead would not permit it,' said Kyte.

  'It is the Standing Dead he wishes to defeat.'

  The old men were frowning. To what end?'

  To fight his way back into the Mountain.'

  For a moment everyone looked startled, but then Crowrane burst into laughter and took with him most of the Assembly.

  Carnelian endured the gale of derision.

  Still chuckling, Crowrane spoke out. 'How many… how many Plainsmen do you think it would take to overcome a single dragon?'

  'Have you ever seen one?' asked Kyte, grinning.

  'From a distance.'

  The man turned to either side. 'From a distance, he says.' There was more laughter.

  'Have you seen the fortresses guarding the entrance into the Mountain?' asked Kyte.

  Carnelian nodded.

  'Well then. Do you believe that even if all the peoples who pay the flesh tithe rose up against the Standing Dead they could breach such defences?'

  Carnelian had seen the Three Gates and knew them invulnerable.

  Akaisha turned on the Assembly. 'Laugh away, but did you imagine our men could destroy one tribe or cow another?'

  'Or produce as much meat in one day as we have never had in the best hunting season,' added Whin.

  Carnelian watched the men lose their smiles as they considered this. 'Does it matter whether what the Master seeks is possible? Surely it is enough that he intends to try it and in so doing he will bring down disaster on the Tribe.'

  Crowrane gave his wife a sly look. 'What then, Master, do you advise we do?' 'You must kill him.'

  The Assembly stared at him. Harth cocked her head to one side.

  'And what do you seek for this advice, your own survival?'

  Carnelian looked at Akaisha sadly. 'You must kill me too. It was I who persuaded Fern to bring us here. In my heart I should have known the strife we would bring you. You showed us kindness and look how we repay you. The Master is like a ravener and must be destroyed, but still I have loved him and could not live on with my betrayal.'

  The Assembly greeted his speech with silence. Akaisha had tears in her eyes. Harth rose, frowning. Her gaze lingered on Carnelian. She looked sidelong at Akaisha.

  'I begin to see why you chose to give this one the protection of your hearth. Still, with his honeyed tongue he has condemned himself.'

  Akaisha and Whin began speaking in Carnelian's defence but were interrupted by the curtain lifting to dazzle them all. A figure walked in which, once the gloom returned, they saw was Galewing. He had a rolled-up blanket in his arms.

  'Has the Master come with you?' asked Akaisha.

  Tonight he will remain at the earthwork by the lagoon.'

  The sighs of relief made him uneasy. He frowned, noticing Carnelian.

  'Why did you come, Galewing?' asked Harth.

  The Elder smiled looking round the Assembly. ‘I’ve come directly here from the koppie of the Woading. They've accepted that from now on they shall be our children and have sent us a ransom in exchange for the bodies of their men.'

  He kneeled, then laid the blanket on the bone floor and carefully rolled it out. When it was a flat rectangle like a hole, he leaned over to take the two corners furthest from him and, looking up expectantly, drew the cloth back. The Elders gasped. Laid out on the blanket were discs, pierced and whole, some rayed like suns; there were crescent moons, horned saurians in the round, lip plugs, a huge pectoral incised with figures. Every piece gleaming salt. Kyte crept close to lift a pendant from the hoard and turned it this way and that in his calloused hands. He licked it and turned, grinning.

  When they questioned Galewing, he assured them the treasure was theirs.

  'And our sons?' Akaisha asked.

  They're spending the night in the earthwork. The Woading need time to choose the children they're going to send us to keep as a surety of their alliance with us. Until we have them here, the Master thinks it best we should protect ourselves against any reprisals.'

  'Alliance?' said Akaisha.

  Galewing opened his hands and looked at the faces of the Assembly. 'Subject of course to our approval.'

  'Alliance for what purpose?' said Harth.

  'We've promised that if they accept our rule, we shall, in time, return their children and obtain replacements for those marked for the tithe, as well as treasure to compensate them for this loss.' He indicated the salt jewels on the blanket.

  'Obtain how?' said Harth, her face screwed up.

  Galewing shrugged. 'Our other neighbours. It isn't as if we can trust them. We've seen one tribe attack us out of jealousy. What do you imagine will happen if we allow the others to combine against us?'

  Harth blinked her disbelief. Her head was slowly shaking. She licked her lips. 'Are you possessed, Galewing?'

  'Look, Harth.' Kyte was pointing at the jewels still lying on their blanket. That represents more than a year of service. More than one year of a young man's life lost to us.'

  The Assembly gave his words a murmur of approval. 'It is stolen!' said Harth.

  'As our children used to be before the Bluedancing came to take their place. No one here likes the taste of these changes, but we swallow them down for the good of our daughters and our sons. For my part, while the Master still spares our children and' – he pointed at the blanket – 'the blood of our men, then I shall leave him be.'

  'Carnie, tell him.'

  Carnelian explained what he knew and watched Galewing's frown deepen as he spoke.

  'You see how dangerous he is?' said Akaisha when Carnelian was finished.

  'More than a ravener,' said Galewing, 'but we have him by the throat. While it's our men he uses to do his fighting, we can have him killed at any time.'

  Akaisha stood up. 'You're too complacent, Galewing. Haven't you seen how popular he's become among the Tribe?'

  'Sooner or later he'll lose that. One day he'll overstretch himself, and then we'll have him.'

  Mossie looked aghast at Carnelian. 'Should we be saying these things in front of him?'

  'One of them is here and the other out on the plain. Even if that weren't so, do you think for a moment they don't know how we must be feeling about all this?'

  The woman sat down cowed.

  Harth raised her eyes. 'And this overstretching, does it not occur to you that should it happen it might well bring disaster down on us all?'

  Carnelian had to speak. 'Listen to Mother Harth. Time is running out for you. Daily he grows more powerful among the young.'

  The Assembly rose in stormy protest. 'Do you suggest that our own children would turn against us?'

  'Underestimate the Master at your peril,' Carnelian cried above the din.

  'We know you bleed, white man. If you bleed, we can kill you,' Crowrane cried back.

  'Leave us now,' Akaisha said to Carnelian, fear for him bright in her eyes.

  He stood for some moments regarding her. She lifted her chin, urging him to go. Bending, he passed under the curtain and into the brilliance of the day. He descended to the Grove, then walked to his mother tree. He lay in his hollow waiting, watching through the branches wisps of clouds changing shape in the sky.

  When Akaisha came he saw in her face what she had come to say.

  'We shall light the signal fire. When our men
return, we shall kill the Master.'

  Carnelian's stomach clenched. So it was done. 'Who can you trust to do it?'

  Akaisha's face set into a mask. 'We shall do it ourselves.'

  He met her eyes. 'And what is to happen to me?' Her eyes twitched as she regarded him. 'Carnie, you too are to die.'

  Smoke rising from the Crag brought the Tribe running to see what was wrong. Standing on the summit near the fire, Carnelian was watching for Osidian's return. Crowrane and a couple of the other veterans armed with spears stood around him and he had been told that if he should cause any trouble, they would run him through. Narrowing his eyes, Carnelian could see nothing but a speckling of herds clinging to the horizon.

  A shout made everyone rise to their feet. Carnelian watched riders detach from the herds: a dark rivulet trickling towards him. In the vanguard was the figure Carnelian sought; a giant among the rest.

  Carnelian waited with the Elders in the Ancestor House. Outside, down the steps, the Tribe had gathered in the clearing, so many their crowd stretched off into the mottled shade. All eyes were turned up to the little house of bones.

  Eyeing Crowrane, Kyte and the others waiting beside the doorway, Carnelian felt the depth of his betrayal. Looking round, he saw shame on every face. It reminded him how far these people had been pushed that they dared not trust their own children; that they should be prepared to defile their most sacred place with murder. His eyes locked with those of Akaisha, who twitched a smile.

  They heard the footfalls on the porch outside. The assassins narrowed their eyes and readied their spears. Carnelian wanted to turn away but refused to allow himself the cowardice of not watching Osidian die. He had asked the Elders to allow him to deliver the fatal blow, but they had refused him, staring. Carnelian was filled with fear at how close his own death was, but his heart welcomed it.

  The curtain lifted and a figure stood framed by the dazzle of the day. It walked in and was followed by another and another, and Crowrane and the others drew back, protesting that these people, whoever they were, had not been given permission to come in. The last figure to enter eclipsed all light. Carnelian struggled for his vision to return and saw it was Ravan and some other youths, with Osidian standing behind them a marble colossus against the bone traceries of the wall. Amidst the storm of protests, Carnelian had attention for nothing but Osidian's face. There was a stillness in his downcast eyes. Carnelian knew that manner, that stance: it was the imperial demeanour of a Master.