‘They’re trying to trick you,’ he said.
Akaisha’s eyes flamed. ‘Do you believe, Master, that we are fools?’
His contrition calmed her. ‘The Tribe’s survival depends on you not being found. We’re sure we didn’t give anything away. Our terror is of the Master out there …’ She glanced away towards the plain. ‘If he should be seen by another tribe …’
‘I could go out and try to bring him in.’
She looked back narrow-eyed. ‘So Crowrane was right. The Master fled knowing what might happen to him here.’
Carnelian felt almost relieved that it had come at last. ‘We are to die, then.’
Her eyebrows raised. ‘I won’t deny there are many now who wish it and I can no longer protect you. Not now.’ She frowned and examined his face. ‘Was I wrong to take you in?’
The pain of doubt in her eyes forced Carnelian to speak. ‘I deluded myself with the hope the Master would settle here. I lied to you, Akaisha, to protect him. He is not my brother.’
She gave a snort. ‘You only tell me what I knew already. No mother could produce two such different sons.’
Considering Fern and Ravan, Carnelian found that a strange statement.
‘You are lovers?’
Carnelian was embarrassed by her directness. ‘We have grown apart.’
She nodded as if she had known that too. ‘Go on with what you were saying.’
‘I believe he may never settle here. He’s unable to let go of his old life. Dark passions move him.’
‘To what end?’
Carnelian frowned. ‘I’m not sure, but before the Gatherer came, I was already fearing that his growing influence among the young men might harm the Tribe.’
Akaisha looked deep into his eyes. ‘You tell me this even though you love him?’
‘I love the Tribe too.’
She examined him for some moments, then smiled. ‘Everything you say, Carnie, I already knew in my heart, but you renew my faith that you are indeed my sister’s son.’
She grew grim. ‘We still have to deal with the danger the Master poses to us.’
‘I could go out,’ Carnelian offered again.
Akaisha shook her head. ‘The other Elders would not allow it.’
Carnelian bowed his head, questioning his desire to tell her everything. He raised his eyes to mesh with hers. ‘He threatens Ravan.’
The colour drained from her face. ‘Is this why you abandoned Fern?’
Carnelian nodded. He saw her fighting temptation. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘The decision must be left to the Assembly. We’ll meet tomorrow night when Galewing, Crowrane and the others return from escorting the Gatherer.’
She looked at him. ‘What will we do with you until then?’
‘Might I be permitted to return to the Bloodwood Tree?’
She smiled wanly. ‘My son’s reprieve is the only joy that has come from this dreadful day. I know they’ll come for him. At worst, next year when we had expected it, but who knows, perhaps we mightn’t see a Gatherer for a full eight years. There’s much living that can be done in such a span of time.’
Carnelian’s heart grew heavy. It had been foolish to hope that any system administered by the Wise would be fallible enough to overlook the punishment of a deserter.
‘No doubt Harth and others will be horrified, but I trust you, Carnie. Go spend tomorrow with my son. Today, both you and he, each in his own way, have had to face death and suffered the certain loss of a daughter.’
Something woke Carnelian. He sat up. Though it was still dark, he could feel morning was near. Akaisha’s voice spoke and was then answered by a man’s. Footfalls faded into the creaking of the cedars. He waited listening for a while but there was nothing more. In the darkness it was harder to be brave. He was scared for those he loved and for himself. Death was close enough to suffocate him. To cheat the terror, he drank deep of the perfumed exhalations of his mother tree. Her branches embraced the air he breathed. She soothed him with her sighs. He lay down again, nuzzling into Poppy.
When the hearth awoke, Akaisha was nowhere to be seen and the older men were absent too. People breakfasted in silence, stealing glances at Carnelian and Poppy, at Fern and Sil and her mother. The horror of the previous day lingered like a chill in the air.
They were getting ready to disperse to their various tasks when Akaisha appeared. Though weary, her face was not so haunted with fear. She saw the question in their eyes.
‘He’s gone.’
‘The Mother be praised,’ said Whin with a sigh and everyone echoed her. Carnelian could see the tension leaving their shoulders. Some even smiled. The sun had risen high enough to slip its rays down into the hearth. It seemed a kind of hope.
‘Carnie?’
Carnelian looked at Sil. Their eyes met.
‘Your hunt are warding today,’ she said.
‘I thought today I might work with Fern.’
A sadness came into her eyes, but then she smiled. ‘He’d like that.’
Carnelian returned her smile, then leaned back trying to see round to the sleeping hollows.
‘He’s gone already,’ said Sil. ‘He’s taken to missing breakfast.’
‘I’ll go down now, then,’ he said, rising.
Poppy clutched his hand. He saw how anxious she was to go with him. They might only have a few days left. He looked at Akaisha, who cleared it with a nod. Carnelian put his hand on Poppy’s head. ‘Come on then.’
Together they ran down through the sun dapple among the cedar shades and out into the ferngardens. They caught up with Fern on one of the stretches of the Blooding path.
He turned and frowned. ‘Did I forget something?’
‘Us,’ said Carnelian with a grin.
Fern glanced at Poppy then into Carnelian’s eyes. It was clear to both of them that Fern was going to argue, so Poppy took his hand and began pulling him in the direction of the Bloodwood Tree.
Beneath the angry eyes of the butcher women, Carnelian laboured with Fern heaving offal on to the drag-cradles. They did not talk as they worked; to open their mouths was to swallow flies.
As they waited for the next pile of entrails, Carnelian’s eyes were drawn to Poppy, sitting in the shade nursing her tattooed hand.
‘She’s young,’ said Fern. ‘Her hand will soon heal and then she’ll forget.’
Carnelian turned to look at his friend. ‘She only has a year.’
‘A year can seem a lifetime to a child.’
They both knew Fern might only have the same time to live. Carnelian gazed at his friend, loving him. He fought the desire to tell him. Why burden Fern even more? How could it ever come to something?
‘Hey,’ said a woman to get their attention. They returned to their work.
‘The hatred some in the Tribe feel towards you will fade,’ said Fern.
Carnelian frowned, thinking of his own death, then remembered to nod.
Later, in the shade of the Bloodwood Tree, Fern confessed the dreams he had had of seeing his daughter growing up. Carnelian nodded, but was not listening as he watched Poppy returning with their food and water. His mind filled with visions of the woman she would become labouring in some palace on the shores of the Skymere in Osrakum. If she were to fulfil her promise of beauty, she would most likely be taken to bed by a Master and then, perhaps, like Ebeny, become mother to a brood of marumaga. She was destined to have much the same memories of the Earthsky Ebeny had had and told him of. He prayed then that somehow Poppy would be chosen from the flesh tithe for House Suth and become a part of his father’s household, where she might find Ebeny. Carnelian determined that that evening, while he still could, he must tell Poppy about Ebeny; he must empty as much knowledge as he could into the girl in the hope that, when the time came, it might help her adapt to her new life among the Standing Dead.
The sun was a gouged eye when one of the women called out: ‘Hunt returning.’
Carnelian’s head jerked up. Coming thro
ugh the Horngate was a front of aquar from behind which rose the hump of the earther they were dragging. A single rider rode before them who, by his size, could only be Osidian. Carnelian’s heart jumped up into his throat. He scanned the riders behind Osidian for Ravan, but because all were shrouded, he could not tell if the youth was there. Why was Osidian putting himself in danger? Looking round, Carnelian saw the agitation among the women standing round the Elder in charge. Two girls were already running back up to the Grove, no doubt to fetch men to attempt Osidian’s capture. A warning was in Carnelian’s mouth, but he swallowed it. He would not save Osidian at the cost of the Tribe.
Osidian came on so that Carnelian and Fern were forced to back away from his aquar. Nothing could be seen of him but the slit of black skin holding the emeralds of his eyes. Carnelian was pinned by their scrutiny and felt they were reading his heart.
‘You missed the party,’ he said.
‘My Lord is being uncharacteristically flippant,’ said Osidian in Quya.
Carnelian looked past him towards the approaching riders, trying to count them.
‘All are there, my Lord.’
‘Their hearths will be glad to see them returned safely.’
‘Their hearths will not see them. They are mine, now.’
Carnelian recoiled from the cold Quyan verb that was used to denote the owning of slaves.
‘Come with me now, Carnelian.’
‘I cannot. Akaisha has my promise that I will not leave the Koppie.’
‘Perhaps you should fear the consequences that might come from keeping promises to savages.’
‘You threaten Ravan?’
‘Why would I hurt the boy when he has proved himself such a willing catamite.’
Carnelian felt as horrified as when he had discovered that Jaspar had similarly used his brother Tain. Osidian was not describing love.
‘You did this to wound me?’
Osidian laughed. ‘I merely take my pleasure where I can find it.’
Carnelian almost leapt forward to pull Osidian down. He calmed himself. ‘Let’s not fight.’
The black of Osidian’s robe and uba were crusted with blood. ‘You must be weary. Surely you desire to wash. Come up to our hollow, rest in the shade and we can sort things out.’
‘Would recent events not make such a course of action rather perilous?’
‘Perilous?’
Osidian watched the women creeping closer. ‘I do not see a warm welcome in their eyes.’
Carnelian felt he had no choice but to put everything into one final appeal. ‘Osidian, if you value our lives, our only chance lies in throwing ourselves on the mercy of the Elders.’
Osidian laughed without humour. ‘Your counsel then, my Lord, is that I who was to have been God Emperor should grovel at the feet of savages?’
At a motion of his hand, two riders came up to flank him. Carnelian saw behind them, the earther looming near. A woman Elder approached the corpse and made a show of examining it. ‘How did so few of you manage to keep her safe from raveners?’
One of the riders turned in his chair. ‘One who dared attack left much of his blood soaking into the ground before he fled the Master’s spear.’
Carnelian recognized Krow’s voice.
‘Reconsider, my Lord,’ Osidian commanded.
Carnelian shook his head.
‘Very well. You know what to do, Ravan?’
The second of the two riders bowed his head.
Osidian turned his aquar and rode away. Carnelian addressed the youths and cried out: ‘You betray the Tribe.’
‘Where the Master leads, we follow,’ said Krow, then swung his aquar round and sent her chasing after Osidian. The half a dozen riders who had been pulling the earther dismounted, unhitched the ropes from their crossbars and were soon up and heading after him.
Only Ravan remained.
‘Why’re you still here, Ravan?’ growled Fern. ‘Can’t you see your master riding away?’
Ravan pulled his uba down, tucked it under his chin and looked down at his brother with his black hunter’s face. ‘I come with his message for the Elders.’
Fern grew angry, grabbed his brother’s foot and yanked it. Ravan bared his teeth as he kicked free of Fern’s grip. ‘His words are for the ears of the Elders alone … brother.’
Seeing the violence threatening to erupt between them, Carnelian took hold of his friend’s shoulder. ‘Come on, Fern, let him be.’
Fern threw his hand off. ‘Let him be?’ He turned on his brother. ‘Did you even care that the Gatherer might have taken me; that we might never again have seen each other?’
Ravan regarded his brother with a blank expression but his eyes were uncertain.
‘They marked Leaf, but I don’t suppose that will concern you much.’
Frowning, Ravan rocked his feet on his aquar’s back and she carried him off towards the Grove at a bouncing lope.
In deepening dusk, Carnelian hand in hand with Poppy was following Fern as they all returned wearily to the hearth. Osidian’s appearance had spoiled what might be their last day together. The men who had gone to escort the Gatherer to the next koppie would most likely have returned. The moment they did, the Elders would assemble. With Osidian abroad, what choice had they but to kill the Standing Dead. Akaisha might manage to save Carnelian but he would not, even now, allow Osidian to die alone. Everything was ruined. Carnelian could not even smell the perfume of the cedars because of the odour of butchery clinging to him.
When they reached their rootearth, they saw a single silhouette sitting on the men’s bench.
‘My faithful brother,’ growled Fern.
Carnelian knew his friend was unaware of how much Ravan was in Osidian’s power. ‘Don’t be too unforgiving; the Master has possessed him.’
‘Today, I saw altogether too much in my brother of the boy my father spoilt.’
It was sensing Fern’s intention forming to go and have it out with Ravan that made Carnelian speak. ‘We’ll find out soon enough what he’s come to say when your mother returns from the diggings.’
Without another word, Fern made off towards the sleeping hollows. Left gazing at Ravan, Carnelian was remembering the cruel way Jaspar had used his half-brother Tain to blackmail him, reliving all the atrocities he had witnessed the Masters commit on their own house-holds. Poppy was destined to enter one of these and he must do what he could to prepare her for it. His fingers were still in her grip. He pulled her after him saying softly: ‘I want to tell you a story, Poppy.’
Sitting in their hollow, Carnelian began to tell Poppy about Ebeny. At first she was sullen but she perked up when he told her that she had come from Mother Akaisha’s hearth.
‘Did she miss the Tribe?’
Carnelian told her she did but that she grew happy in her new life. As he did so thoughts of Jaspar haunted him. His talk had put the first smile he had seen on Poppy’s face since the arrival of the childgatherer, but he realized he was misleading her. For all he knew the kindness of his father’s household was unique. It was true House Suth preferred to choose Plainsmen from the flesh tithe, but there were many Plainsman tribes, so most of their children would end up in the households of other Masters.
He sought balance by telling Poppy of Ebeny’s harrowing experiences in the Plain of Thrones, taking care to explain that though the Masters might seem like angels, they were men; that the dragons, though fearsome, were only giant earthers with houses on their backs.
He stopped, seeing how frightened she looked.
‘Are the Standing Dead then very cruel?’ she asked in a little voice.
How could he answer that? He tried to hide the truth behind visions of the wonders she would see, but he had lost her, made it worse.
She looked at him from under her lashes. ‘I had hoped …’
‘What?’ he asked her, dreading to know.
‘That you might save me,’ she said almost in a whisper. She saw the answer in his face.
/> ‘Will you take me to the Mountain?’
Carnelian was shocked when he realized that he could. He could return with her, perhaps take her into Osrakum with him to his father’s house. He crushed the hope. Most likely he would be dead by then. He had not thought this out, and had been avoiding facing the terrible blow his death would be for the girl.
Poppy reached into her robe and brought out her seed. ‘We must bury her.’
‘Do you mean plant her?’
She looked at the seed across her palm. ‘No. I wouldn’t want her to wake to find none of her daughters to look after her.’
Carnelian tried to argue, but only managed to make Poppy cry. Morose, he gave in, and they dug a hole at the foot of their hollow deep enough to kill the seed, placed it in the hole and buried it.
When Carnelian heard the women coming back, he and Poppy walked round to the hearth to meet them.
The women looked stooped from their earthworking. Poppy nudged Carnelian.
‘Mother Akaisha won’t blame me for going with you, will she, Carnie?’
Carnelian made reassuring noises, though his mind was entirely focused on finding out what Osidian had sent Ravan to say. Akaisha’s seat in the root fork was empty and, when he looked for her, he saw she was a little way apart talking conspiratorially with Ravan. Fern was watching them with unconcealed impatience. Others kept glancing, curious to find out what was happening.
Akaisha terminated the discussion suddenly with some comment that left Ravan red-faced. As she moved to her place, everyone could see how angry she was. Whin raised her eyebrows enquiringly but received nothing but a curt shake of the head.
As he came up to sit beside Carnelian, Ravan drew some disapproving looks. Everyone could see how troubled Akaisha was. When she glanced up at Carnelian, his heart jumped and he knew he must be deeply involved. He tried a smile but she seemed blind to it.
They had not finished their meal when a voice came carrying from the edge of their hearth.
‘May we step on to your rootearth, Akaisha?’
‘You may,’ the matriarch answered and five shapes approached which the firelight revealed to be Elder women, Ginkga among them.
‘The men have returned.’
The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon) Page 34
