Shame cooled to despair as an image of Fern crucified thrust into his mind. Struggle as he might, he could not dislodge it. He turned in to Osidian desperate for the comfort of their love. Feeling him coming awake, he mumbled into his neck: ‘I’m afraid.’
‘And you accuse me of cowardice?’ Osidian said, his body unyielding.
Carnelian edged away, as chilled as if he had been embracing marble, and lay as far from the warm comforts of the world as any of the Wise.
BREAKING EGGS
Everything begins with an uncurling.
(a precept of the Plainsmen)
CARNELIAN WOKE FEELING RAGGED. HE LAY LISTENING TO THE GROVE coming awake, glad to lie in the hollow as long as he could. He was reluctant to face the day. He wished he could go back to not knowing about Fern’s impending fate. A desire came over him to stay behind, to go down to work under the Bloodwood Tree as usual. But he knew that, even if it led them both to death, he could not allow Osidian to go alone, curse his pride.
It was Osidian rising that flushed Carnelian from his warm hiding place. As he drew himself out from under the blanket, he took care not to disturb Poppy. There lay another goodbye he was not looking forward to. He pulled on his robe and made for the hearth. As he approached its mutter, he found the smell of smoke and breakfast comforting. He took his place on the rootbench. Around him, people were scratching, yawning. Mothers were kissing the children that appeared tousle-headed, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, grinning at gentle teasings. Carnelian looked round at Osidian, whose gaze was already fixed on the fire. Fern appeared. As he came to sit down beside him, Carnelian watched the light run along his brass collar. Carnelian had never noticed how tightly it clutched his throat. Fern was aware of where he was looking.
‘Forgive me for not working with you today,’ Carnelian managed to say.
Fern leaned close. ‘Just make sure you take care today.’
‘What’re you two whispering about?’
They pulled away from each other, guiltily, and looked across at Sil. The smile on her face faltered. Disturbed, she looked from one to the other.
‘I’ll tell you … later,’ said Fern.
Sil put on a smile for him.
Carnelian became aware Osidian was watching him. The look in his eyes intensified Carnelian’s feeling of guilt. He was glad Akaisha chose that moment to begin passing out the gruel.
‘Carnie, you and your brother make sure you eat well.’ Her face was smiling but her eyes were filled with concern. Even Whin seemed troubled as she looked at him. This only served to make his stomach churn with anxiety. He was not sure he was going to be able to keep anything down. He stirred the gruel in the bowl that was passed into his hand. Something cast a shadow over his feet. Glancing up he saw it was Poppy. She sidled up and was soon sitting on his knee cradling her own bowl. He watched each spoonful she put into her mouth as if it was the last time he would ever see her eat. He had to resist the desire to hug her hard. He put off speaking to her until she was finished. At last, he nudged her with his chin and she turned to look up at him.
‘I’m going away today.’
Her eyes widened with alarm. ‘I’m going too.’
He shook his head. ‘You can’t. I’m going to fetch water.’
‘I can’t see why I can’t go with you.’
Someone stood over them making them both look up. It was Akaisha. ‘You know well enough, girl, that fetching water is men’s work.’
Poppy’s lower lip began trembling.
Akaisha cracked a smile. ‘Today, you can come with me instead.’
Poppy looked at Carnelian and he could see she was on the verge of tears.
‘You want me to be proud of you, don’t you?’
Poppy gave a slow nod.
‘Well then, Poppy, thank Mother Akaisha.’
When the little girl did, Carnelian planted a kiss on the crown of her head and then rested his chin on her hair. He looked into Akaisha’s eyes and smiled his gratitude.
‘About last night. I’m sorry –’
Akaisha stopped his lips with her fingertips. Carnelian could see the warmth in her eyes. She crouched to look Poppy in the face.
‘Do you want to come with me now and sit at the head of the hearth?’
Poppy lit up and wiggled her way off Carnelian’s knee on to the ground. Akaisha offered a hand and Poppy took it. Carnelian glanced up at Akaisha to thank her and found she was looking down the length of the hollow. Ravan was there standing in the gloom. At first Carnelian thought the youth was looking at him but he quickly realized his attention was fixed on Osidian.
‘Come and have your breakfast, my son,’ Akaisha called to him.
Ravan shook his head. ‘I’ve come to get the Standing Dead.’ He stared even more intensely at Osidian. ‘If they’re still coming, that is …’
‘But you should eat before you go.’
‘Are you coming, Master?’ Ravan said in Vulgate as if his mother had not spoken.
Osidian rose and passed in front of Carnelian, who had no choice but to join him. People grumbled as they looked from Akaisha to Ravan. Osidian loomed over the youth, both of them waiting.
Carnelian saw the upset on Akaisha’s face but could think of nothing he could say. He glanced at Fern and they exchanged nods, then he left the hearth and did not look back once.
Every one of the men waiting with aquar at the earthbridge turned to watch the approach of the Standing Dead. A group came out to meet them, among whom Carnelian could see Loskai with his swollen lips. As they came closer, Carnelian recognized Crowrane and Galewing, both of whom he remembered from his appearance before the Elders. Galewing seemed much younger than the other Elder.
‘My fathers,’ Ravan said bowing his head and Carnelian did the same.
Galewing regarded both Standing Dead with a frown. Without taking his eyes off them he turned. ‘You’re sure you want to risk taking them with us?’
‘Yes,’ said Crowrane, his face wooden.
Loskai’s eyes were burning with a malicious hunger. A fixed grin showed his missing teeth.
Galewing looked into Carnelian’s eyes and then into Osidian’s. ‘You ride out of the Koppie under the authority of Father Crowrane,’ he said, in Vulgate. ‘If you disobey him, if you try to escape, you will be killed. You understand?’
Glancing at father and son, Carnelian was sickened at the thought of delivering himself into their hands.
‘Do you accept?’ demanded Galewing.
Osidian shrugged. He was gazing off towards the brightening plain. Carnelian searched his eyes for any sign that he was aware of the danger they were putting themselves in.
‘Answer Father Galewing,’ barked Loskai, making Carnelian jump.
Carnelian saw there was going to be no backing out and so gave Galewing his nod.
The Elder turned away, bellowing. ‘Mount up.’
As aquar sank to the ground, Carnelian’s attention was attracted to one being walked towards him by Krow. They exchanged smiles.
‘It’s good to see you, Krow.’
‘And you, Master.’
Carnelian would have liked to talk but it was not the time. He was soon preoccupied trying to get comfortable in the narrow saddle-chair. Its sides cut into his thighs. His legs, hooked awkwardly over the crossbeam, were forced almost against his chest as he angled his feet towards the aquar’s back. Glancing over, he saw Osidian was having the same problem. He used his feet to make the creature rise and immediately had to turn her on to the path towards the bridge riders were already crossing.
Notwithstanding the discomfort, Carnelian managed to manoeuvre his aquar safely across the bridge and was soon being jogged down an avenue of magnolias to the outer ditch. He was shaken into a more natural position and was soon, in spite of his fears, enjoying the ride.
Crossing the final bridge, he looked down into the Newditch and saw it was filled with baskets and mattocks. Its inner wall was striped with the ropes that dangled
down into it from the trees all along the edge. Craning round, he saw riders accompanying a group of women through the ferngarden towards the workings.
A judder in his saddle-chair forced him to look where he was going. Riders were milling in all directions.
‘Master.’
It was Krow, pointing to where he should go. Carnelian thanked him and saw the riders had formed up around a solid centre of perhaps two dozen aquar yoked to drag-cradles stacked with empty waterskins. He took up position near Osidian and Ravan who were squinting into the far distance, to which only some acacias gave any scale. All around them were riders with unhitched javelins, with bull-roarers ready across their laps. Carnelian ran his hands along the outer surface of his saddle-chair, but could find no weapons. This discovery sunk him back into despondency.
A high warbling cry rose up and, as one, the aquar lurched forward. Carnelian attempted to settle into the rhythm of his aquar’s pace, snuffling the musky breeze, trying to lull his unease by listening to the chatter of the riders, the hiss of ferns along his aquar’s flanks. Every so often he had to adjust his position to alleviate the discomfort. He looked back to see how much the Koppie had receded. The air had grown hot enough to make it waver like a mirage. He thought of Fern already labouring among the flies under the Bloodwood Tree. When he lost sight of the Koppie altogether, a stab in his stomach was the realization he might never see it again.
Their shadows were short by the time the land ahead began to pool with fire. The incandescence of the lagoon twitched and flickered as herds slid before it. Soon Carnelian could see its full horizontal stretch and the creeping mass of saurians. The riders had fallen silent, their shoulders and arms tense as they made slow scanning turns with their heads.
As the hunt drew closer to the water, the herds resolved into the individual boulders of backs; into necks that stretched to the very tops of the acacias. Several times the hunt curved a detour round what appeared to be rocks nestling among the ferns. When one of these lifted a head larger than a man and grinned a mouth packed with dagger teeth, a trickle of sweat ran down Carnelian’s spine. It made him understand why his aquar was holding her head so high, shifting it nervously from side to side, hardly blinking her huge eyes.
Entering a herd, Carnelian began to feel as much as hear their lumbering thunder. Horned heads were everywhere cropping the ferns. Sometimes one would lift dull eyes to watch them pass. On occasion, this lifting would cause so many heads to rise it was as if a host lying hidden in the ferns sprang up in ambush.
The herds crowded the lagoon margin. Out from the shore, the water was dulled by drifts of wading birds. Islands rose here and there that Carnelian might have imagined to be cities except their towers were shifting more than they should in the melting air.
Crowrane led them parallel to and at some distance from the shore. When they spotted a thinning in the herd, they slowed to a walk and began veering towards the water. Carnelian gaped at an assembly of mountainous heaveners, their heads reaching far out over the lagoon. He watched one rising, leaking water, climbing so high he had to crane to see it swaying black in the blinding sky.
As they neared the shore, Carnelian saw how nervously the riders were spreading out, javelins and bull-roarers hanging from their hands. Some dismounted and, looking round them all the time, led the aquar with the drag-cradles to the water.
No one seemed to be looking at him. Carnelian allowed himself to relax a little. It was hard to believe all these preparations were an elaborate attempt on his life and Osidian’s.
Locating Krow, Carnelian rode towards him. ‘What can we do to help?’
The youth pinched his lips together with his fingers, which gesture Carnelian read as meaning he should speak more quietly. Krow caused his mount to kneel and climbed out. Carnelian waited for Osidian and Ravan to dismount before doing the same. Standing on tremoring earth, he glanced at the heaveners. It seemed madness to walk so near such giants. One detonated a snort. Its hide rippled as the water made the journey down its throat. Its musk weighed the air as heavily as it appeared to do the earth.
Krow took Carnelian’s arm and pulled. ‘Come on,’ he whispered.
Carnelian and the others followed Krow to a drag-cradle from which men were distributing waterskins. Carnelian was given one. Making sure Osidian was close, Carnelian returned with Krow to the lagoon. Earth began softening to mud. They waded out into the lapping water and Carnelian sank his waterskin as he saw Krow was doing. He narrowed his eyes against the swaying dazzle. Warm water licked up his body. He opened the mouth of the waterskin and it began to swallow. Shadow slipped over him as if from a cloud. A wave surging up his chest made him lose his footing for a moment. A glistening wall was rising from the lagoon as a heavener lifted its leg from the water. Wading deeper, the vast arch of its back eclipsed the sun. Fear mixed with wonder as, riding the surge, Carnelian watched the monster lead a procession of heaveners away from the shore.
His waterskin was drowning and so he drew it up, folded its neck, secured it, then hefted it round on to his shoulder. He plodded back to the drag-cradle where he swung it into the arms of a man who was stacking them. Carnelian took an empty waterskin. Other drag-cradles were being loaded nearby. A rising falling whistling made him whisk round, his heart hammering. Three riders were arcing bull-roarers round their heads, focusing on an earther which was ambling towards the cradles. The creature made Carnelian remember the Bloodwood Tree. The bull-roarers spinning faster opened the whistling to a moan. The bull swung away and they chased him from the drag-cradles.
Carnelian became aware Crowrane and Galewing, standing together, were watching him while speaking to each other. He was sure they would not make their move until they were far from the dangerous shore.
Osidian and Ravan were still in the lagoon filling waterskins. Wading out towards them, Carnelian saw Osidian was gazing towards a nearby island crowded with crested saurians. ‘Are they nesting?’
‘Yes, Master,’ Ravan replied.
‘Their eggs would make good eating.’
‘Such roosts are impregnable.’
Aware of Carnelian’s presence, Osidian turned and acknowledged him with a frown. ‘What’s wrong?’
Still brooding over Fern, Carnelian did not answer quickly.
‘My Lord seems distracted,’ Osidian said. ‘Is it that he fears the saurians, or perhaps, the savages?’
The shift into Quya was shocking. ‘Both are unsettling,’ Carnelian said in Vulgate.
‘Is my Lord missing the blood and gore of his previous employment?’ Osidian said, insisting on Quya. ‘Is it then your savage friend you miss, Carnelian?’
Carnelian groaned. ‘Why do you even now persist –?’
‘That some matter is perturbing my Lord can easily be read from his face.’
‘If you must know …’ Carnelian was aware Ravan was there trying to glean what was being talked about. ‘I discovered last night that when the childgatherer comes, his brother,’ he indicated Ravan, ‘will have be handed over for punishment.’
‘You are being melodramatic, Carnelian.’
Carnelian flared into anger. ‘He saved your life not once but several times.’
Osidian grew pale. ‘How often do you intend to throw that back in my face? The savage broke the vows he swore of service to my father. Crucifixion is the price the Commonwealth demands for such sacrilege.’
Carnelian’s anger cooled to ice. ‘You knew this was going to happen?’
Osidian raised an eyebrow. ‘You did not? One would have thought it common knowledge even among exiles.’
Carnelian’s dislike of him at that moment must have showed in his face, for suddenly Osidian discarded his waterskin and began wading back towards the shore.
Ravan looked horrified. ‘What did you say to him?’
Seeing Osidian already leaving the water and striding into the midst of the Plainsmen alone, Carnelian became frantic. He discarded his waterskin and bounded back to shore. Os
idian was already mounted and guiding his aquar away through the perimeter of Plainsmen riding guard. Carnelian raced for his own beast, threw himself into her chair and made her rise. He aimed her along the shore in pursuit.
Perimeter guards rode to intercept them. ‘Where in thunder are you going?’
Crowrane’s voice came floating from somewhere near the drag-cradles. ‘Let them go.’
The men scowled, shrugged and moved their aquar out of the way. Beyond their protection Carnelian felt exposed. The raised voices had disturbed the herds. Carnelian became aware another aquar was shadowing him and saw it was Ravan’s.
The ground was being shaken by immense footfalls, the air was wafting thick with the stink of the saurians and rasped by their cries. He and Ravan skirted the denser clumps of them keeping as close as they could to the shore. When they caught up with Osidian, he did not acknowledge their presence. Carnelian feared the anger he had provoked was going to get them all killed.
‘Let’s ride back, Osidian. Out here, we’re vulnerable.’
Osidian spoke without taking his gaze from the island roost. ‘I have faith in my God.’
When the roost was perhaps only a javelin cast from the shore, he brought them to a halt. Flamingos were an undulating pink commotion obscuring the water. Beyond them rose the island upon which Carnelian could clearly see the saurians with their swept-back scarlet crests.
‘Bellowers,’ said Ravan, his eyes round.
Osidian turned. ‘Are they noted for their ferocity?’
‘They’ll defend their nests against even the most malevolent raveners.’
The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon) Page 27
