The Bluedancing women bowed a little and made their way back to gather their people, and then, woman and child, carrying mattocks, they all followed Akaisha and the Ochre down to the Bloodwood Tree.
‘How shall they dig?’ Akaisha asked him.
Carnelian shrugged. ‘You know more about this than I do, my mother.’
She peered over the edge. ‘You want us to bring this up to the condition of the Newditch?’
‘That would do to begin with.’
She looked up and down the length of the ditch. ‘It’s going to take a lot of work.’
Carnelian looked round to see the crowd of the Bluedancing.
‘There’s a lot of hands to do it.’
Akaisha frowned. ‘But we’ve had them in the ditches since they came. Earth-moving is hard work even when a person is well fed. With what we’ve been giving them …’ She grimaced.
Carnelian grew morose contemplating the trap Osidian had them in. ‘The Master will keep his promise and then not only the Tribe, but the Bluedancing will have all the meat they need.’
*
They set the Bluedancing to working in the ditches. Carnelian wandered along the edge of the meadow, sometimes stopping to look down. Everywhere, women and children were labouring in the mud. He gazed out past the Horngate. The sun had risen high enough to melt the view and beat down on him like a migraine. An Ochre voice was barking instructions. Carnelian felt useless and worried that Osidian had only left him there to stop him interfering with whatever it was he was up to on the plain. He made for the Bloodwood Tree, seeking solitude in its shade. The rot of blood was in his nostrils even before he could see its stain in the earth. He walked round behind the tree, putting its trunk between him and the sun. Lying against its bark, he relived the times he had spent there talking with Fern. He cursed himself that he had not after all bound Osidian with an oath.
Hearing Akaisha calling his name, Carnelian walked back into the searing sun. Squinting, he could make her out, beckoning. He sighed, reluctant to leave the shade.
‘We need you to check we’re doing it right,’ she said as he approached her.
He allowed her to lead him back to the ditch where he helped her down a crumbling slope. Soon they were among the workings. When Bluedancing turned to watch them pass, Whin forced them back to work with a shout. Carnelian’s glance of surprise only served to make her angrier. He was feeling he did not know her, perhaps never had, when the anger slipped from her face like a mask and, looking ashamed, she ducked away.
‘Down there,’ said Akaisha pointing among the heaving backs. Carnelian saw her against the rise and fall of their mattocks, saw her distaste. His apparent detachment angered her.
‘You’re the one who asked for my help!’
Carnelian could find no way to explain how he was feeling. ‘Please show me.’
Akaisha turned and he followed her as she wound her way through the Bluedancing. Carnelian saw it was their young women who were hacking at the muddy walls. The older women and the children were clawing the crumbled earth into baskets which, when full, they dragged one heave at a time away from the ditch wall.
‘Look here,’ said Akaisha and showed him with her hands where the earth on either side had been cut back. ‘Is that enough?’
Carnelian’s eyes were drawn back to the people slaving. He saw an old woman, an Elder by the salt beads in her hair, struggling, tugging at a basket filled with soil.
‘They shouldn’t wear their salt, it’ll be lost,’ grumbled Akaisha.
The old woman was still pulling but her basket had dug into the ground. She stopped, bowed, misery making her red eyes tear.
Carnelian ran forward and, taking hold of the wrinkled hands, peeled them off the basket handle. ‘This is too much for you, my mother.’ He turned from the confusion in her gaze and tore at the handle, yanking the basket free and then dragging it until he backed into another. He strode forward looking for another one to pull. He felt a touch on his arm.
‘What’re you doing, Carnie?’
He looked up into Akaisha’s face. ‘Helping them.’
‘We’re helping them already,’ she said, her voice unnaturally sharp. ‘If it wasn’t for them we’d have no need to have the Master involve us in this.’ He saw the tears she was fighting as she walked away.
By order of the Elders, the Bluedancing were stripped of their salt. Akaisha and Whin stopped coming to the fernmeadow and gradually, all but a few Ochre overseers began to stay away. Morose, Carnelian took to labouring in the ditch. He had the Bluedancing move their camp to the neighbouring ferngarden and made Akaisha force the Elders to send a demand to Osidian that more water must be brought to the Koppie daily for the earth-workers.
The men who brought water described the circular earthwork Osidian was making them dig near the lagoon. At night they had to light great fires to keep the raveners at bay. When asked what the earthwork was for, they would shrug and say they just did what the Master told them to. They seemed to Carnelian much grimmer than he remembered them.
These same men regularly brought with them not only water but a saurian carcass. The Tribe were beginning to feel hunger. Hearths sent people down to watch the butchering to make sure to get some of the fresh meat. It was Carnelian who insisted that the Bluedancing should at least be given the offal.
The day after the Tribe had celebrated the return of the tributaries, Carnelian was breakfasting when cries of alarm began sounding here and there in the Grove. Everyone leapt to their feet and some youngsters were sent to find out what was going on. When they returned they answered Akaisha’s questions by drawing everyone to where a gap in the cedar canopy allowed them to see smoke rising in the south.
Whin exchanged an anxious look with Akaisha. ‘It’s too much smoke to be a beacon.’
‘Their koppie burns,’ said Sil.
Akaisha shook her head. ‘Their ferngardens wouldn’t be dry enough.’
Poppy was clinging to him. Carnelian knew what he must be seeing was a fire in the koppie of the Bluedancing. Akaisha and Whin stared bleakly out.
‘What is it that is burning, my mothers?’
Both women turned wild-eyed. ‘Their mother trees.’
Leaving Poppy with Sil, Carnelian followed Akaisha, Whin and others of the Elders down to the Eastgarden. He sensed they were expecting trouble. The camp of the Bluedancing seemed much the same as it always did except that the women were all standing gazing to where the pall of smoke was hanging over the southern horizon.
‘Imagine how they must feel,’ whispered Mossie, and Ginkga shut her up with a glare.
They crossed the earthbridge and went down the Blooding, turning often to observe the motionless ranks of the Bluedancing. Akaisha took the path of barren earth to the camp. As the Ochre approached, the Bluedancing seemed unaware of them, but then some children cried out and the women turned.
‘What’re we going to say to them?’ asked Mossie.
‘Hush, dear,’ said Akaisha.
The eyes of the Bluedancing, red from weeping, regarded the visitors with hatred.
‘We must order them to their work,’ said Whin.
‘The work will make them forget,’ said Ginkga.
‘Would you so easily forget your mother tree?’ asked Akaisha, her eyes flitting among the Bluedancing.
Carnelian could see how that thought was being passed between them with glances.
Compassion and fear warred in their faces.
Harth glared at them. ‘I warned you not to trust the Standing Dead.’ She advanced towards the sullen Bluedancing.
‘Get to your work,’ she commanded.
The Bluedancing made no move and continued to stare. Behind them Carnelian could see the smoke from the burning of their mother trees swelling the horizon.
Harth repeated her command and still there was no response. Carnelian was becoming aware of how many there were of the Bluedancing. So many eyes filled with grief and anger.
‘We’
d better go back,’ said Akaisha, nervously.
‘Shouldn’t we try –?’ began Mossie.
‘Let’s go now,’ hissed Akaisha and, retrieving Harth, they retreated back over the bridge and made their way at speed for the beckoning safety of the Homeditch.
The Elders armed the Tribe as best they could and set them to guarding the two most easterly gates and the arc of the Homeditch which lay between. The Crag beacon was lit to summon back their men. Carnelian waited with Akaisha by the Bloodgate. All eyes were scanning the ferngarden, looking for the expected Bluedancing attack.
When he told Akaisha he thought they were overreacting, she flared to anger.
‘What! You don’t understand. How could you? If anything should happen to my tree, the grief …’ She shook her head and resumed her look-out for the Bluedancing.
Carnelian felt like asking her if she imagined her grief could turn into murderous rage, but he said nothing more. Guilt at the way the Tribe had treated the Bluedancing was the true root of her fear.
Carnelian paced back and forth beneath the mother tree. When Galewing had appeared with many riders, Carnelian, fearing bloodshed, had spoken out in defence of the Bluedancing. He had declared them to be nothing more dangerous than frightened, dispossessed women and children. His words clearly had force for the Elder men though, unhappily, he sensed this was because he resembled the Master. Outraged, Harth had commanded him to be silent, saying the matter was for the Elders to decide. Akaisha had sent him to their hearth to wait for her.
His brooding was interrupted by a voice calling from the rootstair. Seeing it was Krow, Carnelian invited him into his hearth. Astride the men’s rootbench, they faced each other. As Krow nibbled at his nails, he was smearing hornblack from his lips to his fingers.
Carnelian asked him how the men were, mentioning names, among which he included Fern so as not to draw attention to his concern for him. Without lifting his head, Krow told him everyone was fine.
Carnelian decided against asking more specifically. ‘How goes the great hunt?’
Krow looked up at him. ‘I know nothing of a great hunt.’
‘Is his earthwork finished?’
Krow nodded grimly. His eyes unfocused as he saw it in his mind’s eye. ‘It parts the herds on their way to the lagoon. Even heaveners walk round it.’
Carnelian was surprised. ‘Two moons and that’s all you’ve done?’
Krow shook his head. ‘He makes us ride against the herds in lines, in arrowheads. He divides us into groups and, with his spear, commands us to strike against earthers in waves.’
Carnelian narrowed his eyes. ‘Why?’
Krow shrugged. ‘Perhaps this great hunt you spoke of, Master.’
There was something in that shrug that suggested Krow was hiding something. It seemed to Carnelian obvious Osidian was training them for war.
‘Why did the Master burn the Bluedancing’s mother trees?’
Krow grew troubled. ‘He told us that as long as their trees lived, the Bluedancing might hope for freedom and revenge.’
‘It was cruel and impious.’
Krow sunk his head again and resumed his nibbling.
‘You of all people should know how it feels.’
Krow’s head jerked up. ‘The Marula murdered my hearth and tribe.’
‘As we did the Bluedancing men and, besides, made their mothers, wives, sisters and children slaves.’
‘We showed them mercy.’
‘The Master’s mercy was meant to force the need for this hunt so as to give him power over the Tribe.’
Krow looked away haunted. ‘What choice do I have but to follow him?’
‘Akaisha might welcome you into her hearth.’
Krow turned back fiercely. ‘To remind her that her son is possessed by the Master?’
Carnelian had no answer to that.
‘I’m sorry, Carnie, but the only place I have left is at the Master’s side.’
Carnelian could not deny the plea in the youth’s eyes that he should stop. He smiled at him. ‘Why have you come to see me, Krow?’
‘The Master wants to know how much progress you’ve made here.’
Carnelian closed his eyes and tried to imagine how much of the ditch was still to be cut; how much they had already cut and how long it had taken.
He opened his eyes, feeling sick at heart. ‘In the end it will come down to whether the Bluedancing will still work.’
Krow smiled coldly. ‘They’ll work all right.’
‘You’re returning to him today?’
Krow nodded.
‘Tell him that in eight days the work here will be complete.’
Krow took leave of him with a kind of bow and then Carnelian was left alone to brood on what he had learned about Osidian’s preparations. Sil and Poppy appeared and Carnelian helped them make the evening meal.
Night had fallen before Akaisha and Whin returned. Everyone could see they had been quarrelling. Akaisha said they had come up from the Homeditch gates, now guarded by the men of the Tribe. Though everyone was desperate to know what the Elders had decided, neither Akaisha nor Whin volunteered anything.
Later, Akaisha took an opportunity to talk to Carnelian alone. ‘I suppose you’d better know.’ She looked unhappy. ‘We have had to take some of their children away from them. There’s no other way we can be sure to be safe when our men are away.’
Carnelian was aware she would not look him directly in the eye.
‘We have to send them away to ensure the good behaviour of their mothers.’
‘Send them where?’
‘Galewing will take them with him tomorrow when he returns to the Master.’
Carnelian could not believe this. ‘If you must take their children, why not bring them up here where you can keep an eye on them?’
When Akaisha would not answer, he took her hands in his. She glanced up at him.
‘Surely you understand, Carnie? How could we hurt them ourselves?’
Carnelian let go of her hands. ‘But you’re happy to let the men do it?’
‘It won’t come to that. Their mothers would do nothing to risk their children.’
‘I can’t believe you want to send any children out there, among the herds and the raveners. Who’ll care for them?’
Akaisha grimaced. ‘We can’t have them here. We can’t.’
‘What do you fear, Akaisha?’
She shook her head in answer. He thought about it.
‘Is it that having them among the hearths the women won’t be able to distinguish the Bluedancing children from those of the Tribe?’
Akaisha looked up at him and there were tears in her eyes. ‘What have we become?’ she whispered. ‘What have we become?’
Akaisha conspired with Carnelian to draw out breakfast as long as they could. It was the other overseers gathering waiting for them at the edge of their rootearth that eventually forced them to rise.
‘We’ll have to face it some time,’ Carnelian said.
With the others, they marched in silence down to the camp of the Bluedancing. When it came in sight, Carnelian was as reluctant as everyone else to go any nearer, but he pushed forward nonetheless.
The Bluedancing seemed carved from wood. Carnelian tried not to catch glimpses of their eyes as they were ordered to their work. They shuffled along, their chins digging into their bony chests. They looked like sartlar.
He accompanied them to the ditch and, removing his robe, was determined to work among them as he had done for days. It made him feel better to be sharing their labour.
He clawed at the mud, but hard as he worked, he was aware of the space there was around him. Every time he glanced up he would catch glimpses of the hatred in their eyes. It sapped his strength. Their eyes made him question why he was sharing their work. Was it that he was doing penance for the guilt he felt? Was it that if he pretended to share their suffering no one would be able to blame him for his part in what was being done to them? It was Os
idian who had brought all this about, but who was it had brought Osidian to the Koppie and at every turn protected him, nurtured him until he had grown into what he was today? Ultimately, Carnelian could not pretend his hands were clean of any of Osidian’s crimes. He dropped his mattock and looked at his red, earthy hands. He left the ditch. It was about time he took responsibility for what he was and what he had done.
He ceased worked with the Bluedancing but tried instead to get as much food and water as he could for them. He made sure to keep an eye on their Ochre overseers. He understood what spurred these women to cruelty. Sometimes, when he saw the thin arms of the Bluedancing plucking at the red earth, he grew enraged, desiring to lash them, to heap abuse on them, but he had delved deep enough to see this was guilt taking possession of him; by bringing his victims low hoping to justify keeping them in their place.
He did not judge the Ochre. They had lived all their lives with the constant threat of having their children stolen from them. It was not easy for them to have become the very thing they most hated.
*
Days later Carnelian, worn down by another day working as an overseer, returned to the hearth desperate for its familial warmth. Sil and the other women were lining their bench. A smell of stew was drifting in the air. He went to wash first and smiled when one of the children greeted him, then jumped when something in the shadow under the mother tree moved.
‘You,’ he gasped, seeing it was Osidian.
‘I have come to impart to you the role you will play in my great hunt.’
Osidian said no more and Carnelian was glad when he left him alone to his washing, for it gave him time to order his thoughts. When he joined the hearth he found Osidian was not there.
‘Ravan?’ Carnelian asked as Akaisha handed him a steaming bowl.
‘The Master came without either of my sons,’ she said, severely.
‘Did he say –?’
‘He said nothing.’
Akaisha must have seen his anger, for she put her hand on his arm. ‘We need him, Carnie,’ she said, quietly. ‘If his plan fails, the Tribe will starve.’
The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon) Page 44
