The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon)

by Ricardo Pinto

  The fear Carnelian felt for Osidian had abated, as each morning found him stronger. He rarely spoke. Even when they lay together in their sleeping hollow, Osidian revealed nothing of what he was feeling. Exhausted from the work, Carnelian did not have the energy to prise him open. He told himself Osidian needed to make his own accommodation with their new life. In the evenings, around the hearth, he sat in his place on the rootbench between Fern and Carnelian. He ate everything he was given and never asked for more. Neither he nor Ravan acknowledged each other’s existence. Mostly, Osidian looked deep into the fire as if he were watching some drama being played out there. At first his brooding presence had unsettled everyone, but after a few days he became as familiar a part of their world as the boulders that sat upon the hillside in the grasp of cedar roots.

  Every three days or so, men would drag a new earther in from the plain. Many aquar were needed to drag the corpse into position under the Bloodwood Tree. The first time a set of hunters came they would look at the Standing Dead only from the corners of their eyes. Carnelian could see himself how terrible Osidian looked. Gigantic, clothed in gore, his blood-matted hair barely concealing the green fire of his eyes. With each succeeding visit, Carnelian began to notice that the men were losing their fear. Seeing the Standing Dead labouring where they themselves would not, they were beginning to feel contempt. For the time being, their disrespect was only in their eyes, but Carnelian knew this could not last and he feared for the effect any mockery would have upon Osidian.

  It was Loskai who started it. He had returned from the hunt with other men, among whom Carnelian could see Ravan busying himself checking the knots on the tow-lines. Krow was gazing at Osidian. The hunters were filthy from days out on the plain. Fierce pride shone from their faces as they delivered the immense horned corpse to the women.

  Loskai moved towards Osidian, pointing. ‘There he is. There’s the white bastard who murdered my brother.’

  He turned to survey the faces of his companions. ‘They neither of them look so impressive now, do they?’

  He swung round and regarded Osidian and Carnelian, his lip riding up his teeth.

  Carnelian bore the goading, his attention on Osidian, watching him, nervous of his reaction.

  The women were gathering round. Mother Mossie appeared among them her hands half-raised, her face hesitant.

  ‘Please stop this,’ she said.

  Suddenly Loskai shoved Carnelian, causing a hot surge of anger.

  ‘You’re not so scary now are you, Master?’

  Before he had time to react, Carnelian felt someone at his side. ‘You touch him again and you’ll have me to deal with.’

  Loskai stepped back, regarding Fern with an expression of mock fear, and then, spitting in contempt, he advanced on Osidian, taunting him in Vulgate.

  ‘Loskai, where’s your father?’ said Mossie.

  Osidian lifted his head and looked at Fern, then Carnelian, as if Loskai were not there. Carnelian felt the green eyes in the red-painted face were asking him a question. Enraged at being ignored, Loskai threw a punch into Osidian’s ribs. Osidian hardly flinched, his gaze remaining fixed on Carnelian.

  ‘Why’s he not defending himself?’ muttered Fern.

  When Krow stepped forward, protesting, Loskai turned on him. ‘Stay out of this, Twostone.’

  Leering, Loskai threw a harder punch into Osidian that forced a groan out through his clenched teeth. Carnelian relived the slavers’ tormenting of Osidian. In a blind fury, he fell on Loskai, punching him, hurling him to the ground. A pair of hands pulled him off. Still enraged, Carnelian fought loose of their grip and felt his elbow connect with bone.

  ‘Carnie, it’s me …’ he heard. He saw it was Fern. With something like surprise, he gazed down at Loskai lying on the stained earth, his face bloody, his eyes unfocused with shock. The Plainsman rolled over, pushed himself up, facing Carnelian. He spat bloody teeth on to the ground.

  ‘You’ve only yourself to blame, Loskai,’ said Fern.

  Mossie and the other women had their hands over their mouths.

  ‘You at least are here at an Elder’s command, but these two …’ Loskai indicated the Standing Dead with his chin. ‘Why are they here if it isn’t because they fear to be men? Are they scared to leave the safety of our ditches?’

  ‘What is the savage raving about?’ Osidian asked, casually, in Quya. Carnelian translated Loskai’s words.

  As Osidian’s gaze fell on Loskai, it caused the Plainsman to go pale. ‘You should be careful what you ask for, barbarian. If it’s really what you want, I’ll come with you, tomorrow.’

  Loskai tried a laugh. ‘Tomorrow …? Everyone knows tomorrow our hunt rests.’

  Osidian gave Loskai a look of contempt that stung him into saying: ‘Tomorrow it is then. I’ll persuade my father.’

  He turned and swaggered back to join his fellows, among whom Carnelian saw Ravan, a turmoil of emotion on his face.

  ‘I’ll be reporting this. I’ll tell the Elders all about it,’ said Mossie. Carnelian felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Fern looking horrified.

  ‘The Master doesn’t know what he’s doing.’

  ‘He knows exactly what he’s doing.’

  ‘Loskai didn’t do this by himself. Why do you imagine his father’s chosen not to be here? He sent his son to bait you.’

  Carnelian had already come to the same conclusion. Glancing at Osidian, Carnelian could tell his mind was made up. ‘Nevertheless, I will have to go with him.’

  Fern clasped his hands over his head. ‘Can’t you see they’re just trying to get you away from my mother’s protection so they can kill you?’

  At that moment, Poppy appeared, all eyes and concern. Carnelian picked her up and reassured her. ‘Everything’s fine. Really.’

  He regarded Fern over her shoulder. His friend looked miserable. Carnelian shrugged and put Poppy down. ‘Look, I’ve gone and covered you in blood.’

  He sent her off to wash herself. Carnelian saw the bruise already developing on Fern’s jaw and indicated it with a grimace. ‘Did I do that?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Fern, morose.

  Osidian was already returning to the drag-cradles. Brooding, Carnelian followed him.

  At the hearth that night, Carnelian was agonizing over whether he should go with Osidian or not when he felt a tugging on his robe and saw it was the boy, Blue, wide-eyed. ‘Carnie, is it true you almost killed Loskai today?’

  Fern leaned out past Osidian. ‘All he did was make him lose a couple of teeth, Blue. Loskai had it coming, he started it.’

  ‘Yes, he started it,’ said Poppy fiercely, making Carnelian laugh.

  Skai looked at Carnelian over his brother’s head. ‘But you are going out with Father Crowrane’s hunt tomorrow?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ said Carnelian.

  Sil’s eyebrows rose and she looked up and down the men’s bench. ‘Isn’t Father Crowrane supposed to be warding tomorrow?’

  ‘I heard he’s swapped with Father Kyte,’ said Whin’s husband, Ravenseye. ‘Tomorrow, his hunt is to fetch water with Father Galewing’s.’

  ‘Why the swap?’ asked Sil.

  ‘Apparently, Loskai persuaded him,’ growled Fern.

  His wife regarded him with puzzlement, thought a moment, then looked up to the head of the hearth. ‘Mother Akaisha, if Carnie goes, I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d allow Fern to go with him? It would be just one day away from his punishment.’

  ‘Although I set the punishment, I acted on behalf of all the Elders and can’t set it aside on whim.’

  ‘Could you not ask the other Elders?’

  Fern glanced at Carnelian. In his eyes Carnelian saw not only his friend’s embarrassment, but also a yearning he could not read.

  ‘I’ve said all I’m going to on this matter, child.’ Akaisha’s gaze fell on Carnelian. ‘There are others, perhaps, you should be challenging, others who made commitments they now see
m happy to set aside.’

  Carnelian hung his head. It was true that to go with Osidian, he would be reneging on the promise he had made to Fern to share his punishment until its end. It did not matter if what she had said to Sil was true or not. Carnelian knew that Akaisha would do anything she could to stop her son becoming embroiled. Carnelian lifted his head. Ravan was looking past him to Osidian. The flicker of the fire showed the bones underlying the marble of Osidian’s face. Carnelian remembered the question he had read in Osidian’s eyes before the fight. A direct appeal to the love they had sworn to each other. There really was no choice. How could he let Osidian go into danger alone?

  ‘Ravan dear,’ said Whin. ‘Do you think you could stay and help us tomorrow? We are going searching for herbs in the Eastgarden and need an escort.’

  Angrily, Ravan shook his head. ‘My place is with my hunt.’

  Poppy approached Osidian, offering her bowl. ‘I’ve left some for you.’

  Osidian’s gaze did not move from the heart of the fire and the little girl’s face fell. Carnelian reached out, took her arm and drew her to him. He pushed the bowl gently towards her. ‘That’s kind of you, Poppy, but he’s eaten his. That’s yours.’

  She gave Carnelian a piercing look and mouthed: ‘But he’s so thin.’

  ‘So are you,’ he mouthed back sparking several chuckles. It pleased Carnelian he could no longer so easily see Poppy’s bones. Her eyes were bright and the bruising under them was now only the merest shadow. He had been avoiding considering the impact his decision would have on her. How hard would it be for her if he were not to return?

  Poppy sat down with her back against his legs. Peering over her shoulder, he watched her dig her spoon into the bowl. When he lifted his eyes, they meshed with those of Sil, who was smiling warmly. He thought perhaps she might be prepared to adopt Poppy. He looked past Osidian at Fern. His friend liked the girl and might be prepared to be her guardian. Fern’s jaw betrayed the anger he was suppressing. Carnelian decided it was too much to ask. He glanced up past the fire at Akaisha. He would ask her. Besides, he owed her an explanation as to why he felt he had no choice but to go with Osidian.

  When he saw Akaisha leaving the hearth he waited a little while. Eyes watching him rise, quickly lost interest as he slipped into the darkness.

  When Carnelian’s vision adjusted to the dark, he saw Akaisha moving towards the rootstair. When he caught up, he reached out to touch her shoulder. She jumped.

  ‘It’s only Carnie, my mother.’

  She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘What’re you doing stalking me in the dark?’

  ‘I wanted to talk to you alone.’

  ‘I’m going to relieve myself, child.’ Carnelian did not know what to say.

  She sighed. ‘I suppose you could walk some of the way with me.’

  He remembered to put his shoes on before they left the rootearth. As they climbed the rootstair, he ordered his thoughts.

  ‘Mother Akaisha, if I were to go tomorrow with Crowrane’s hunt, would I go with your blessing?’

  The night was very black so that, although Carnelian had made this journey many times himself, he still did not know the steps so well that he was free from the fear of stumbling.

  Akaisha did not speak until they had reached the Crag. ‘You must not go.’

  The path round the Crag was lit by starlight.

  ‘I know it is likely to be dangerous.’

  ‘Well then.’

  ‘My brother is determined to go.’

  Their footfalls were no louder than the sighing of the cedars.

  ‘The party of the Elders who wish you dead daily dwindles,’ Akaisha whispered.

  ‘If it was up to me, my mother … but my brother will not be swayed by me or any other. For him it’s a matter of honour.’

  Akaisha gave a snort. ‘Honour? Why does honour so often serve only to turn men stupid?’

  Carnelian could think of no reply.

  ‘What if I forbade him?’ asked Akaisha.

  ‘You’d have to be prepared to restrain him with force.’

  They had reached the top of the Westing rootstair. Without hesitation, Akaisha plunged into the blackness beneath the mother trees.

  ‘Then I can only pray the Mother will protect you.’

  Akaisha had to slow her pace to allow Carnelian to find his way safely down the stair. Though he had to concentrate his mind in his heels, he was still aware of the illuminated underside of the cedars that made it seem as if shadowy halls were laid out on either side.

  At last they reached the flat ground before the Westgate, where he knew he must part from Akaisha. The stretch of the Homeditch the women used lay off to the left along the Homewalk: that which the men used, to the right, towards the Childsgate, overlooking the strangely barren rectangle which the Tribe called the Poisoned Field.

  Akaisha brought them to a halt. ‘It will be hard for my son to work under the Bloodwood Tree without your company.’

  ‘I cannot abandon my brother.’

  She clasped his arm. ‘Harth may be behind this; Crowrane certainly is or he would have returned with his hunt. That he did not and that Loskai made his challenge when poor Mossie was on duty seems altogether too much of a coincidence. You have one narrow hope. Their plan was certainly to take you out hunting. That they agreed to the Master’s counter-challenge has forced them to change the rota. It takes two hunts to fetch water and so you will be going out with not only Crowrane, but also Galewing. When the Assembly voted on your fate, Galewing was the only man who supported me.’

  Carnelian pondered this.

  Her hold tightened on his arm. ‘Do what you can to keep Ravan from any trouble that may arise.’

  Carnelian put his hand over hers. ‘I will.’

  They let go of each other.

  ‘I’m relieved Fern isn’t coming with us,’ said Carnelian. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to stop him getting involved.’

  ‘I’m glad some good has come to him from his punishment. When I imposed it on him, it seemed just, but now I can only see that it is wasting much of what little time he has left.’

  Carnelian became confused. ‘Time left?’

  He could sense her surprise. ‘Surely … surely you can’t be unaware of the collar round his neck?’

  ‘The collar …?’ Coldness flooded his stomach. Fern had deserted from the legions.

  ‘When the Gatherer comes next year, Fern’s life will be forfeit.’

  ‘I hadn’t imagined …’ He remembered the anger Sil had shown him which he had not understood.

  ‘You hadn’t imagined the vengeance of the Standing Dead would seek him out?’ she said with incredulous anger.

  ‘That they could find him.’

  ‘You yourself revealed to us our name pricked into the palms of our service men. How do you think it got there?’

  ‘They give it over when they are recruited,’ Carnelian said. He stared into the night. ‘I just didn’t … I’m so stupid.’

  ‘It seems the Standing Dead are unaware of much of the suffering they inflict upon the world.’

  Carnelian burned with shame. ‘Couldn’t we hide him?’

  She gave a hollow laugh. ‘If we did, they’d take a child in his place.’

  How small was the mesh of the net the Masters had cast over these people. ‘Will they … punish him here?’

  ‘Most likely they’ll take him to Makar where, as an example to others, they’ll hang him, mutilated, upon a cross.’

  The flat resigned tone of her voice was chilling.

  ‘If that’s all?’ Akaisha said.

  Carnelian saw her shape begin to turn away and reached out and fumbled in the darkness for her hand.

  ‘Perhaps, my mother, while I’m away you might take care of Poppy for me.’

  He felt some tensing in her hand and then it was gently pulled away. ‘You shouldn’t care for her so much, Carnie.’

  ‘I don’t share your prejudice against her,’ he s
napped.

  Akaisha took him by the arm. ‘It’s not that … It is only that when the Gatherer comes she might be selected for the tithe.’

  Carnelian felt he could bear no more pain. ‘Fern told me the same thing. But surely she’s Twostone.’

  ‘She ceased to be that when I accepted her into my hearth.’

  ‘Then why did you risk her by …?’ He paused remembering Ebeny. ‘You don’t want to lose more of your kin?’

  ‘My grand-daughter is my heart.’

  Carnelian knew it was cruel to say more but could not help himself. ‘And Poppy has the kind of prettiness the Gatherer likes.’

  She snatched her hand from his arm. ‘I’ll look after her for you,’ she said and walked away.

  When Carnelian returned, he did not want to go to the hearth where he would have to face Fern and made his way instead to his hollow. Osidian was there already asleep with Poppy. Carnelian lay down between them. Poppy moulded herself into his side. Her warmth stirred a panic in him that she might be taken away to Osrakum. Panic turned to anger. How could Akaisha be so selfish? She was no better than Harth and all those others who hated him and Osidian.

  Carnelian’s heart beat faster as he imagined the dangers the next day would bring. Above him stars twinkled in and out of existence as the breathing night stirred the branches of the cedar. He saw again Osidian breaking Ranegale over his knee. Loskai had had to witness that. How could he judge him; judge his father and mother’s desire for revenge? Plainsmen had to endure, repeatedly, the rape of their people. It tore at him that, in spite of this, Akaisha had taken them both in. How could he think it was she who threatened Poppy? Was it she who forced countless barbarian tribes to pay a tithe of their children to become the playthings of the Masters in Osrakum? What right had he to blame any of them when it was his own kind who were the root of the world’s evil?