‘Would you defile this place further with their stinking blood?’
said Krow in Vulgate.
The Darkcloud hesitated, his brow creasing with agonied indecision. One of the others said something, swinging his arms and looking out, and the rest nodded grimly, their eyes fixing murderously on the Marula.
Morunasa stared at them, licking his lips. He fixed his eyes on Carnelian. ‘Master, save our lives and I’ll tell you everything you want to know and give you incomparable wealth besides.’
The Darkcloud erupted into a baying bloodlust but Carnelian dared to stand in their way. ‘Hear me,’ he bellowed.
They almost turned their spears on him, but he faced them down.
‘You will have to give your tribe an account of this defilement of your home. And then there’s the Master.’
He saw how that name put fear in them. Their leader began nodding. He half turned to the men behind him and spoke to them in their own tongue.
‘What have you decided?’ Carnelian demanded.
The Plainsman looked at him and leered. ‘We shall keep them alive to give our people something on which to vent their vengeance.’
*
Carnelian crouched beside Morunasa. He could see from the man’s swollen hands and feet how cruelly he had been bound. The Maruli leaned forward towards the embers Carnelian was carrying in a bowl.
‘The night is cold.’
Carnelian set the bowl down, removed the blanket he had about his shoulders, and threw it over Morunasa, who smiled.
‘You’re not what I expected from a Master.’
‘Tell me what you’re doing here.’
Without taking his eyes off Carnelian, Morunasa shook his head slowly. Carnelian regarded the man through narrowed eyes.
Morunasa shrugged. ‘In time I will speak, but only to the other Master.’
‘Before that, you will die at the hands of the people you have wronged.’
Morunasa showed his sharpened teeth in a grin. ‘I don’t think so. I saw how much you all fear the other Master.’
‘He is much more what you expect of a Master.’
That made Morunasa look uncertain but his lips remained firmly closed.
‘I could have you tortured.’
Morunasa grinned grimly. ‘I have been taught to withstand pain since I was a child. My secrets would die with me.’
It had been an empty threat. Carnelian did not have the stomach for torture. He could wait until Osidian returned. He allowed his gaze to wander away over the shadowy cedars which were here and there lit by the hearths. It was very like the Koppie. He thought of the destruction that lay on the other side of the hill. They had chosen to spend the night on its south side to be as far away as possible from the mutilated mother trees.
‘Why did you cut down the cedars?’
‘We needed their wood for fires.’
‘You must have known these trees were sacred.’
‘It is not the trees but what gathers under them that is sacred.’
‘Your Darkness-under-the-Trees?’
‘Our Lord curls around their trunks like a serpent.’
‘But then –?’
‘He is malignant when on earth. We coax him back into the sky.’
‘How?’
‘With man blood.’
Carnelian shuddered at his tone and the glint that came into his eye. Morunasa’s teeth seemed ravener sharp. The Maruli gazed up at the starry sky. ‘When his blackness hides the sun he returns to the earth as rain. We feed him and he whispers his secrets to us.’
Carnelian did not want to hear any more. He lifted the bowl, and considered taking back his blanket. He left it and walked away. It was indeed cold.
Carnelian came awake to find Krow wide-eyed, shouting something at him that made no sense. He sat up. ‘What?’
‘He’s bitten their throats out.’
‘Whose throats?’
‘The Marula’s.’
Anger made Carnelian come fully awake. ‘The Darkcloud agreed not to harm them.’
‘The Marula did it to each other.’
Carnelian rose. ‘Show me.’
Krow led him to where a crowd of Plainsmen had gathered. Some of the Darkcloud came clamouring towards Carnelian.
‘He’s cheated us of our revenge.’
Carnelian did what he could to calm them. The crowd let him through to where Morunasa was sitting against a rock, one eye half-closed by a swelling from a blow he had taken to his head. His mouth, nose and chin were thick with gore. The other two Marula lay sprawled beside him. Carnelian crouched to look at them. Under their chins were ragged holes so deep their heads had rolled away at an unnatural angle. A movement under one of the old men’s skins made him recoil.
‘How can they already have maggots?’
‘They were Oracles of the Darkness-under-the-Trees,’ said Morunasa, as if that were an explanation.
Carnelian turned to look at the man, grimacing as he saw his teeth clotted with dried blood. ‘Why?’
‘We had a difference of opinion.’
The man’s breath stank. ‘What’re you talking about, you savage?’
Morunasa’s grin made Carnelian look for a spear. ‘I should kill you now myself.’
The men around him shifted and murmured. Carnelian looked round at them and recognized many of them as Darkcloud. Morunasa grinned again.
‘It seems I am precious to the Flatlanders, Master.’
‘After what you did to their trees, their women will not be kind to you.’
‘It seems I shall live at least until then.’ He glanced towards the corpses. ‘How does the Master intend to dispose of their bodies?’
‘You would have us burn them, would you not, Maruli?’ Morunasa looked surprised. Carnelian asked the Plainsmen what they thought of this and saw how angry it made them. He turned back to Morunasa.
‘Why do you burn your dead?’
‘The smoke carries the soul up into the sky.’
‘It seems to me, Maruli, you should have shown as much care for their bodies as now you appear to be doing for their souls.’
Morunasa shrugged. ‘Once they are ashes, nothing is left behind but dross.’ He displayed his arms with their dusty coating.
This revelation on top of the murders made Carnelian back off in disgust. He looked from the Maruli to the Plainsmen then back again.
‘They will be exposed with all your other dead on the plain for scavengers to gnaw on,’ he said, and received nods and smiles of approval from the Plainsmen. Carnelian did not like it that he took pleasure in Morunasa’s scowl.
The Plainsmen divided themselves into groups, each with some aquar pulling drag-cradles, and moved across the ferngardens gathering the dead. Once they had fully loaded up, they took the corpses out and dumped them on the plain. After that, Carnelian ordered everyone to rest beneath the cedars, drowsing, squinting at the plain, waiting for the Darkcloud to do what they could to staunch the resin bleeding from their mother trees. In the later afternoon, the Plainsman dead were carried up to a summit of the crags where they were left bleaching on the funerary trestles waiting for the birds to return with the Rains.
At last, when the sun was descending the bronze sky, they set off back to the koppie of the Ochre. They had unhitched the Marula aquar the night before and applied what salves they could find to their wounds. The drag-cradles with the stolen djada and water they hitched to their own beasts, not wanting to burden the wounded. Morunasa, still bound, was lifted into a saddle-chair.
Though their shadows were long, the day still burned and it was with a desperate delight that they reached the first magnolia shade of the Ochre koppie.
Everything was as they had left it. Carnelian went to see the Bluedancing and found they were well enough and thankful for the days of rest his expedition had gifted them. Next he turned his attention to the captive. Morunasa’s fingers and toes were swelling black, though he seemed to be indifferent to the pain. Never
theless, Carnelian ignored the anger of the Darkcloud and had the bonds cut. He answered their fear that the Maruli might escape by exiling him to share the summit of the Crag with the dead on their trestles. The Darkcloud might guard him from the shaded comfort of the porch of the Ancestor House.
This done, Carnelian and Krow returned to Akaisha’s hearth. They allowed themselves the luxury of a little water to wash with. To Krow’s amusement, Carnelian prepared a meal. They spent the evening huddled round a fire reminiscing about their journey to the Earthsky. Krow asked what life was like in the Mountain and Carnelian was happy to indulge him. It seemed to them both an improbable fairytale.
It was days later that Osidian came out of the desert, swiftly, with the dawn, his men behind him in a column. News of his arrival was spread by shouts across the Koppie. Carnelian heard the commotion as he was walking wearily down through the Grove on his way to another day’s toil among the Bluedancing. He could not make out any words, but knew what it must mean. He ran down the last few rootsteps to the Homing, but then slowed. He walked the rest of the way to the Lagoongate so as to have time to prepare himself. His heart was hammering. He yearned to see Fern alive, but feared him dead. There was Morunasa and the expedition to explain. He tried not to think about Osidian, for he knew he might soon have to kill him.
Standing at the gate waiting for him, Krow lit up. ‘The Master has returned.’
Carnelian put on a smile and tried to appear pleased. Krow was too excited to see through the performance. Through the gate, the morning was hot but not yet unbearable. Carnelian saw his men in the ferngarden and a mass of riders riding towards them up the magnolia-shaded avenue. Osidian rode at their head. Carnelian searched the many dark shrouded shapes behind him. Osidian rode through the waiting men, across the bridge, and Carnelian and Krow had to jump out of the way as he brought his aquar right into the Grove. The creature knelt and he vaulted easily on to the ground.
‘My Lord does not seem to have made as much progress as I expected.’
Carnelian stared, paralysed by the Quya and Osidian’s presence.
‘Is there something wrong with your voice, Carnelian?’
Krow had moved to the aquar and, making her rise, he led her away so more riders could come in. Carnelian’s eyes were drawn to them searching. Ravan had dismounted and was coming towards them.
‘The ditch, my Lord?’
Carnelian focused on Osidian, who was frowning. ‘The conditions under which the Bluedancing have been working are almost unbearable.’
‘I need no lectures about the conditions. I have been riding across that plain for ten days.’
‘Then,’ Carnelian said, stung to anger, ‘you will understand it all.’
His heart leapt into his mouth when he saw a figure moving behind Ravan, whose height proclaimed it to be Fern. Carnelian became aware of Osidian turning to see what he was looking at.
‘Ravan,’ he said, trying to deflect Osidian.
‘And Fern,’ said Osidian, as Ravan gave Carnelian a curt bow.
Carnelian tried to appear calm. ‘Is the Tribe well?’
For answer Ravan looked away. Carnelian thought the youth aged and worn. His eyes met Fern’s and, feeling the intensity of that link, he broke it. A commotion was breaking out along the Homing, where Osidian’s dusty men were meeting up with Carnelian’s men. Osidian observed this with a furrowed brow and turned on Carnelian.
‘Something has happened.’
Carnelian found it hard to return Osidian’s piercing gaze. ‘I took the men you left me to the koppie of the Darkcloud.’
Osidian’s eyes flamed. ‘I do not recall giving my Lord permission to indulge in expeditions.’
Carnelian felt trapped. ‘I took it anyway. Do you imagine, Osidian, that seeing smoke rising from their home I could have stopped the Darkcloud from going to investigate? I bowed to the inevitable and went with them. Thank the Two I did or else they would most surely have been annihilated by the Marula.’
Osidian’s eyes grew wide. ‘Marula, you say?’
Carnelian explained and as he did so he watched Osidian’s eyes. There was no doubt he was shocked. This was an element that had clearly not formed part of his calculations. Carnelian sensed something else. Momentarily having lost his Masterly composure, Osidian’s emotions were open to scrutiny. Carnelian saw a wariness in the way Osidian was regarding him.
‘You were victorious then?’
‘We fell on them like raveners.’
‘Did any Marula survive?’
‘One. There were two others but he bit out their throats.’
Osidian raised an eyebrow.
‘I have imprisoned him on the summit of the Crag awaiting your return.’
Osidian resumed his impassivity. ‘What has he told you?’
‘Once he learned of your existence, he would say nothing to me.’
‘Indeed.’
Carnelian sensed that Osidian’s apparent amusement was only a front. Osidian turned to Ravan.
‘Go gather me a twenty of Darkcloud.’
Ravan bowed and went off. Fern was puzzled by the commotion among the Plainsmen. Carnelian watched them too, so as not to have to look at either Osidian or Fern.
When Ravan returned with the twenty, Krow was with him. Osidian motioned the two youths to stand on either side of him and the Darkcloud to surround them as they began to climb the rootstair. Carnelian was left with Fern. Desperately, he wished his friend were able to read handspeech. They gazed at each other but dared not speak.
Osidian paused on the stair. ‘I would like both of you to come with me.’
Obediently, Carnelian and Fern began climbing. Osidian turned to Krow.
‘When I am finished with our guest, I might give him to you. Tell me, what torments might you like to inflict on him?’
Looking apologetic, Krow glanced at Carnelian. ‘The other Master has already promised the Maruli to the Darkcloud.’
The men around them nodded.
‘Has he indeed,’ said Osidian.
Though Morunasa stood his ground as they came up on to the summit, his yellow, slitted gaze flitted from one to the other, quickly settling on the towering figure of Osidian. Under the pressure of Osidian’s regard, Morunasa eventually ducked a bow.
Fern and Ravan stared, startled at the black man.
As Osidian advanced on the Maruli, Krow cried out: ‘Beware, Master, he’s a ravener.’
Without turning, Osidian made a gesture of dismissal. Carnelian saw he did not overtop Morunasa by much. The two were facing each other near where the bones of the dead lay bleaching upon the funerary trestles. Carnelian strained to pick out words from the mutter of their talk.
‘Carnie, where did this Maruli come from?’
Carnelian turned to see Fern and Ravan waiting for an answer and he launched into the story, every so often glancing off towards Osidian and Morunasa. Both winced and glanced at the Maruli when Carnelian described the two dead with their throats torn out.
‘Were these the same Marula who massacred the Twostone?’ asked Ravan.
‘I found the same damage in the koppie of the Darkcloud.’
Krow, who had been gazing at the Master throughout, suddenly moved forward in response to his beckoning. The Maruli looked dejected. The Darkcloud were watching him as if he were a piece of meat they were salivating to consume. The black man exclaimed, pointing at Osidian’s face. Osidian’s affront softened as Morunasa said something. In response, Osidian pushed his uba from his forehead to expose his birthmark. As Morunasa rose on his toes to examine it, Carnelian felt a thrill of unease which only increased as the Maruli and Osidian began to talk together like conspirators. Watching them reinforced Carnelian’s desire to overthrow Osidian.
He turned his attention back to Fern. His friend indicated Ravan with his eyes. They could not talk while he was there, but they could hardly move away without it being noticed.
‘How is your mother?’ Carnelian asked, hoping to fi
nd a way through innocent conversation to communicate with Fern.
‘Well enough,’ Fern said and proceeded to talk about their journey to the mountains. ‘Everyone was miserable that we had to return here.’
Carnelian nodded. Fern continued, and from what he said, Carnelian became convinced there was unrest among the men; that many were growing uneasy with the new ways.
‘The Master,’ said Krow.
Osidian was coming towards them with Morunasa at his side. Carnelian saw immediately that the Maruli was possessed of a new confidence which dismayed Krow and the Darkcloud.
Osidian regarded them all as if from on high. ‘Go, ready yourselves and the others. Each man should take enough djada for nine days; water for six. We march south at nightfall.’
THE VOICE OF GOD
Gods speak without words
Air mouthed by the branches of trees, by hills
Flame tongues whispering
Rain hiss and pattering rhythms
Water rumbling rolling against rock and shore
Gales screaming scouring, lifting precipices of sea
That roar as they consume
(Quyan fragment)
CARNELIAN FOLLOWED OSIDIAN DOWN TO THE PORCH OF THE ANCESTOR House.
‘What has the Maruli told you? What is it that is in the south?’
Osidian smiled. ‘The reason why the Marula have been launching attacks into the Earthsky.’
Carnelian waited for more, but still smiling, Osidian shook his head. Carnelian glanced up to the summit where they had left Morunasa. ‘You cannot trust him.’
‘Do you not find that ironic coming from you, Carnelian?’
Knowing it was true just made Carnelian angry. ‘The men will not follow you.’
‘There will be unrest, but they will follow me. Besides, it will be amusing to see my enemies reveal themselves.’
He turned away to look down into the clearing, which was filling up with Plainsmen. Carnelian’s stomach clenched when he saw Fern was at their head. There was no way to warn him.
Fern looked up at them. ‘Why do you want us to go south, Master?’
‘Because that is where the lands of the Marula lie.’
Consternation rippled through the crowd.
The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon) Page 51
