Fern dismounted. ‘The men are angry and confused.’
‘So am I,’ said Carnelian. He leaned over the edge and saw Osidian and Morunasa had disappeared.
‘There must be caves down there,’ Fern said.
*
They gave up waiting and were glad to retreat from the fearful drop into the shadow of the anchor tree. A quivering in the ladder ropes brought them back to the edge. Osidian and Morunasa were climbing the netting. As they came up, Carnelian saw a new light in Osidian’s eyes. Not wishing to be denied an explanation, he did not ask, but probed Osidian’s face seeking the answer for himself. Feeling Carnelian’s gaze, Osidian looked at him and smiled with a warmth that took Carnelian by surprise.
‘Was everything as the Maruli promised, my Lord?’
Osidian’s grin was like the sun. ‘Better than he promised.’
Morunasa’s eyes had been looking from one to the other as they spoke, and perhaps it was the anger at not understanding that put the frown on his ashen face.
‘Now we must go to the Isle of Flies,’ he rumbled.
Osidian’s eyes flashed. ‘I’ve not forgotten the bargain we made, Maruli.’
He gazed across the chasm to where the island lay black between the shimmer of the falls.
Carnelian saw the light go out of Osidian’s face. ‘What lies there?’
‘An ancient banyan.’
Carnelian regarded the island. ‘Within that forest?’
‘It is that forest.’
Carnelian was appalled. That so much earth should be captured by a single tree. He imagined how deep the shadows must be beneath its branches. ‘A fearful place.’
‘Indeed,’ said Morunasa, grimly. He ducked under one of the cables and Osidian followed him. Krow had to run to keep up. Beside them, his stature made him seem a child. Carnelian followed on behind with everyone else.
Fern regarded the island. ‘I don’t like the look of it.’
‘You don’t need to come,’ said Carnelian.
‘Are you going?’
Carnelian was struggling with the same unease, but he nodded.
‘Then I will go with you,’ Fern said with a determination that made Carnelian smile.
They walked on, passing the knoll with its singed trees. Morunasa and Osidian were heading for where the Backbone butted on to the chasm. Morunasa bowed to something there before moving on to a ledge that ran along the chasm brink. He was quickly followed by Osidian and, more hesitantly, by Krow.
When Carnelian came closer he saw a carving of a head, thrown back as if it were pushing up out of the earth. Its mouth, hideously agape, was rimmed with splinter teeth; its tongue a spike upon which the skeleton of a man was impaled. The idol’s face was crusted brown with old blood that had pooled in the mouth and empty eye-sockets, then overflowed on to the ears and stained the ground black.
Conquering dread, Carnelian peered past it and saw the path that squeezed between the sheer face of the Backbone and the shadowy gulf into which one of the waterfalls was tumbling. It was along this that Morunasa and the others were moving.
Carnelian edged round the idol and was about to follow Osidian when he noticed the Plainsmen had come to a halt. Carnelian saw their terror. His eyes met those of Fern, who mastered his fear and crossed the bloodstained ground averting his eyes from the impaler. When he reached Carnelian’s side, Fern grabbed his arm and pulled him away on to the path. They were some way along this when they became aware Ravan was following them.
Gurgling, the river ran in many streams. Skeins of dark water parted by rock, reweaving together, tearing in rapids, churning in pools.
Morunasa’s smile with its ravener teeth was unnerving. ‘So you’ve been brave enough to come this far?’ His amber eyes slid round so that he was looking across at the Isle of Flies from their corners. ‘Are you now brave enough to cross with the Master and me?’
Ravan stood forward gazing at Osidian, his face sweaty, hopeful. ‘I’ll go with you, Master.’
‘No,’ said Fern.
Osidian ignored them and turned to Morunasa. ‘Stop toying with them, Maruli.’
Morunasa looked down at Ravan. ‘But this one offers himself and we need blood. The Darkness-under-the-Trees has been unfed for years.’
‘In that case, Maruli, we shall give of our own blood.’ It was Osidian’s turn to smile. ‘Unless you fear my fiery blood shall set your banyan alight.’
Morunasa regarded the island with nervous eyes. ‘All I fear lives there.’
As the two men glanced at one another, Carnelian was dismayed to see how much they were alike. Morunasa might have been Osidian reflected murkily in a mirror of obsidian.
Osidian turned to them. ‘Wait for me here.’
‘Don’t trust –’
Osidian choked Krow’s protest with a flicker of his eyes and then he turned to follow Morunasa down towards the river.
*
They watched Osidian and Morunasa pick their way across the river. The route they took wound back and forth over the rocks so that it seemed they were finding their way through a maze. When at last they reached the island, they climbed up through its skirt of driftwood, walked along its shore beneath the towering banyan, before suddenly being swallowed between its trunks.
‘How long do you think they’ll be?’ asked Fern.
‘I hope the Maruli’s god devours them both,’ hissed Ravan through bared teeth.
Carnelian was shocked to see with what bitter eyes the youth was glaring at the island.
‘The Master knows what he’s doing.’ The anxious way Krow resumed his vigil of the island belied his words.
Frowning, Fern watched as his brother went off to sulk on a rock. He leaned close to Carnelian. ‘His behaviour has been steadily worsening. I can’t understand, Carnie, why the Master tolerates it.’
Neither could Carnelian. ‘Your brother has good reason to be aggrieved.’
Their eyes met and Fern nodded. Carnelian hoped for a return to their easy friendship.
It was nearing dusk when Krow sprang up and ran down the bank to the river. Carnelian could just make out Osidian and Morunasa emerging from the tangle of the banyan. He watched them winding back from rock to rock. He was dreading their return.
As they approached the shore, Krow went out to meet them. Carnelian saw the youth’s dejection as the Master ignored him. Krow fell in behind him, snatching glances at his back as he picked his way among the boulders.
All three reached the shore together. As they approached, Morunasa seemed disturbed and Carnelian detected in Osidian’s face the ghost of some horror he had witnessed.
‘What was it you saw?’ Carnelian asked in Quya.
‘Cannibalism in the Labyrinth,’ Osidian answered, in a tone that seemed to be one with the dismal gulping of the river.
Carnelian did not understand, did not want to understand. He noticed Osidian’s left wrist was wrapped in a clot of leaves through which blood was soaking.
‘Tomorrow I shall leave you, Carnelian. You will remain here. I would take you with me if I dared, but I need your Chosen face to instil terror and obedience into the Plainsmen that will be staying behind to garrison this Upper Reach.’
‘What’s he saying?’ Ravan demanded.
‘He’s leaving us,’ snapped Carnelian. His eyes met Fern’s in a mutual glance of dismay.
Krow leapt in front of Osidian. ‘Let me go with you, Master.’ Osidian looked right through the youth. ‘The Oracle Morunasa shall be my only companion.’
Of the two of them, the Maruli seemed now the taller as he regarded them all with condescension. Krow regarded him with unconcealed hatred. Ravan skulked in the shadows.
‘And where does my Lord intend to go?’ asked Carnelian, already knowing the answer.
Lifting his chin, Osidian turned the emerald fire in his eyes on the brooding chasm below the falls. ‘Down there, the Lower Reach, land of the Marula.’
RENDER
A man’s desi
res are the best hook to catch him.
(a proverb of the Wise)
IN THE DUSK IT WAS HARD TO SEE THE MASTER ON THE KNOLL AGAINST the baobab that rose behind him like the night. Morunasa’s presence was only betrayed by the blinking of his eyes.
The pale slit in the Master’s uba scanned the Plainsmen he had gathered to hear him. ‘Tomorrow, with your approval, I would go down to the land of the Marula.’
Among the crowd, Carnelian was deafened as they rose in uproar. Osidian’s pale hands lifted to calm them.
‘While I am away, the ladder down into the chasm must be repaired.’
The men erupted again, so that Carnelian was carried a few steps up the slope in their surge.
Fern pushed past him higher still. ‘Why, Master, so that the murdering bastards can swarm up to destroy us?’
‘If that had been their intention, do you not think they could have done so long ago?’ Osidian’s contempt withered them to silence. ‘Their attacks on the Earthsky were incidental; merely a way in which they sought to regain access to their shrine,’ he pointed, ‘the Isle of Flies.
‘The Ladder is the only link between the Lower and this Upper Reach. When it was cut by a revolt of their pygmy slaves, they were forced to send armies through swamp and jungle up on to the Earthsky. There they killed for the water and djada that they needed to get here.’
More men moved up to join Fern; among them, Ravan. The youth stabbed a finger at Morunasa.
‘If we kill the Maruli, no news will reach his people of the destruction of their expedition. They have tried twice already and failed. What makes you believe, Master, they will dare to try again?’
A Darkcloud stood forward. ‘Let’s burn their Isle of Flies as they burned my tribe’s mother trees.’
Morunasa bared his teeth. ‘Any man who crosses to the Isle will be devoured by the Darkness-under-the-Trees. Understand this, Flatlanders, you may kill me, but my brethren in the land below will never forsake the dwelling of our Lord.’
‘You see?’ said Osidian. ‘They will plague us until they have their Ladder back.’
Carnelian thought it time he said something. ‘Why do you need to go down there with the Maruli?’
Osidian gazed at Carnelian for some moments. ‘To make sure they believe that there is no need to send another force.’
Carnelian could not fault this. Osidian continued.
‘Enough has been said. Now you must decide what is to be done.’
With that, he turned his back on them. Carnelian pushed his way to Fern’s side. His friend recoiled.
‘What if he sees us together?’
‘We’ll have to take the risk. Too much hangs on this decision.’
Fern saw the truth of it. ‘Why is he doing this? Could it be as it seems that he does not want the Marula to interfere with his plans?’
Carnelian glanced over to the ladder Osidian and Morunasa had descended earlier. ‘I cannot believe that is the only reason he brought us here.’
Fern spoke in his ear. ‘We could kill him now.’
Carnelian considered that, then made sure before he spoke he was not doing so for emotional reasons. ‘No. If we did, we’d not only have the problem of controlling the different tribes but there would be no way of reassuring them we knew how to deal with the Marula threat.’
Fern frowned. ‘Combined, we could defeat anything they threw at us.’
‘Combined, perhaps …’
Fern grimaced, knowing that such unity would be nigh impossible to achieve using any methods other than the Master’s.
‘And besides, we’d have to leave men behind in the koppies for the Sky knows how many Witherings.’
Fern nodded, wearily. He looked around him. ‘As long as we control this Upper Reach the Marula are powerless against us.’
‘So we go along with him?’
Fern glanced up to where the looming baobab had swallowed the Master and the Maruli. He leaned close to Carnelian. ‘And kill him when he returns.’
Their eyes met in agreement. They parted, and Fern moved among the Plainsmen giving the Master’s proposal support where it was needed. When Osidian asked what they had decided, grudgingly, the Plainsmen gave his plan their assent.
They camped upon the summit of the knoll. The Plainsmen huddled gratefully round the fires they had made with the dead wood they had found lying everywhere. Carnelian sat chewing djada with Fern, Krow, Ravan and others of Akaisha’s hearth. Looking round at the familiar faces helped ease his anxiety about the decision he had made. Even through his brooding, Carnelian felt he and they, even Ravan, belonged to each other.
Two shadows forming out of the darkness made them all jump.
‘We shall sit with you,’ one of them said. Osidian’s pale face came into the firelight followed by Morunasa’s. Osidian chose to sit between Fern and Carnelian so that the Plainsman had to move away round the fire. The Maruli found a place on Osidian’s left. Carnelian fixed his gaze deep into the flames and busied himself with chewing. A waterskin was passed around. When it was Carnelian’s turn he put his lips to its spout, but had to tip it so much, that he did not feel he could take more than was essential to moisten the djada. He passed the skin to Osidian who drained it.
‘We need water,’ said Ravan, daring to glare at the Master.
‘There is plenty in the river.’
His words produced a mutter of discontent in Ochre.
‘What are they saying?’ Osidian asked Carnelian.
Carnelian told him without taking his eyes from the fire.
‘If they fear to fill their skins from the Blackwater,’ Morunasa said through a sneer, ‘they can drink from the caches the pygmies kept in these baobabs.’ He lifted a chalky hand to indicate the giants looming round them in the dark.
‘I saw no jars,’ said Carnelian.
‘Did I not say, in the baobabs?’
‘They’re hollow?’
Chewing, Morunasa gave a nod.
Carnelian remembered the openings he had seen in the charred trees. Osidian looked around the fire. ‘All of you go and search these out.’
The Plainsmen were reluctant to leave their fire, but they obeyed. Fern gave Carnelian a glance before disappearing into the night with them.
Carnelian felt a touch on his arm and turned to look at Osidian.
‘We need to talk, you and I,’ he said in Quya.
Carnelian was reluctant, but gave a nod.
‘While I am gone it shall be your paramount task to rebuild the Ladder.’
Carnelian remembered the mess of the ropes he had seen so far down the chasm wall. ‘It will be a great labour.’
‘You can use aquar to lift it.’
Carnelian looked out over the camp. ‘Still, men will have to be sent down somehow to attach ropes to the Ladder. It will be dangerous work.’
‘I do not wish you to risk them.’
‘Who else?’
‘Sartlar,’ said Osidian, a strange light showing again in his eyes.
Carnelian gawped.
Osidian patted the ground with his hand. ‘Yes, they are here beneath our feet. They infest caves gouged into the wall of the chasm.’
‘The other ladder,’ Carnelian said. ‘The one you descended with Morunasa?’
Osidian nodded. He leaned forward to capture Carnelian in his gaze. ‘Listen to me and listen well, the Plainsmen must not descend that ladder. If you have need, go there alone. If you do, you will understand why it is I say this. You hear my words?’
Carnelian nodded, staring, confused. Something occurred to him.
‘How shall I summon them?’
‘Strike the cables of their ladder thrice and they will come.’ Carnelian returned to his fire-watching. The sartlar were there beneath his feet as they had been in the bowels of the ship as oars-men on the voyage to the Three Lands. He wondered what they were doing in the Upper Reach and what it was Osidian was so determined to hide from the Plainsmen.
‘When I return
it will be with Marula Oracles and their pygmy slaves.’
‘And then you shall give them back this place.’
Osidian glanced at Morunasa, who frowned. ‘We shall see.’
Fern and the others appeared, looking frightened. ‘The trees are all filled with children dried like huskmen.’
‘What did he say?’ asked Morunasa.
Carnelian translated.
Morunasa gave a snort. ‘Not children, Flatlander, pygmies.’
‘But they’re dead,’ Fern said.
Morunasa showed his pointed teeth. ‘It would be strange if they were not; it’s the tradition of the forest people to place their dead within the hollowed bellies of trees.’
Carnelian felt Osidian’s hand grip his arm and turned to look into his eyes.
‘Once, Carnelian, I knew in my heart you would give your life to save mine.’
They regarded each other with a sadness that made Fern and Krow both ask what was the matter. Osidian’s gaze did not allow Carnelian to say anything to them and they stepped back, silent.
‘Now it has become necessary for me to say to you that on my return, should the Ladder be not repaired, or should I receive any impediment to my ascent, then I shall offer myself to the Marula to lead their next attack on the Earthsky. If that should come to pass, be sure I will annihilate the Ochre.’
Hatred rose in Carnelian. Could Osidian manage nothing without threats or terror? He almost thanked him for making it easier to kill him.
Carnelian was trapped in the cabin of a ship riding a stormy sea. The smell of iron lingering in the air made him queasy. He leaned against a bulkhead. Under his touch its surface was dry and powdery. He lifted his hand and peered at where it had been resting. Hri-bread riddled with holes. The cabin was made of it; the ship. He could feel her hull soaking up the salty sea. Dark water welled up from the floor. The iron smell of blood. When he tried to pull his feet up he felt them tearing off at the ankles. It was disorientating that he felt no pain. His skin writhed and itched. He leaned over and saw his legs were bread. As he brought his hands close, they left a wake of fine powder in the air. His hands were porous, every hole itching from the writhe of weevils.
He awoke gasping. It was night in the garden of the Yden. The branches of the pomegranate trees were stark against the sky. Why were they leafless? He had believed autumn never came to Osrakum. He sat up. Hunched shapes were swarming in the darkness. His heart beat up into his mouth. They had come again for him and Osidian. Or was it his father they wished to wound? He closed his eyes and fought confusion. His mind cleared. He was in the Upper Reach. When he opened his eyes again, the night was as lifeless as the baobabs.
The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon) Page 53
