Poppy began a protest that Carnelian silenced with a look. ‘Please, Krow.’
He felt a burst of relief as the youth rode up to Poppy, leaning to offer her his hand. Frowning she took hold of it and he swung her up to sit on his lap. Carnelian asked a couple of Darkcloud to go with them, then, after Fern and Sthax were mounted on the aquar he had brought for them, he led them and the remaining Darkcloud round the Homing to the Childsgate, where they all dismounted. As he directed them to conceal themselves in the shadows Carnelian noticed how the Darkcloud stole furtive glances up the hill, how they whispered to each other, how they trod the carpet of cedar needles as if they were afraid to wake the women lying among the roots of their mother trees.
Through the wicker of the Childsgate Carnelian could see riders coming towards them across the Poisoned Field. He drew back to join Fern and Sthax, then glanced round to make sure the Darkcloud were ready. The gate swung open, flooding light into the Grove that flashed and darkened as several aquar rode through. Quickly Carnelian recognized the leading rider by his frame to be Osidian, who was squinting, still blind in the gloom. Carnelian gestured for the Darkcloud to surround the riders, all Oracles. Stepping to block Osidian’s path he pulled his uba down from his mouth.
‘Carnelian?’ Osidian, wrinkling his nose, made Carnelian aware of how filthy he must look. ‘Has Krow arrived with the salt?’
‘Where’s Morunasa?’
‘With the Marula.’
Carnelian had counted on him being with Osidian. What now?
Osidian was frowning. ‘There’s no time for this. Aurum’s almost upon us.’ His eyes darted as he became aware of the encircling Darkcloud. He grew enraged. ‘Get back, Plainsmen, unless you want my wrath to fall upon your kin.’
Carnelian saw the Darkcloud were wavering but, before he could act, Fern was there, thrusting a spear point to within a hand’s breadth of Osidian’s face. Osidian started a little then turned upon Carnelian. ‘Call off your barbarian boy,’ he said in chilling Quya.
The spear point, finding Osidian’s throat, scratched blood when he swatted it away.
‘Another sound and you die, Master,’ hissed Fern through clenched teeth.
Sthax stepped forward with frantic eyes. Carnelian spoke to the Maruli in a soothing tone. When he was sure the man would not interfere, he turned back to Fern. He saw the lust in his face for Osidian’s death. ‘Fern, we need him alive.’ He made a hurried decision. Raising his hand he indicated three of the Darkcloud leaders to remain, then, in a low voice, he told the rest to mount up and take the Oracles back through the gate. The Oracles looked to Osidian for guidance, but Darkcloud spears herded them out of the Grove.
Carnelian was aware of Fern as he addressed Osidian. ‘I’ve destroyed the salt. It’s over.’
Osidian’s eyes became hooded. ‘More treachery, Carnelian?’
Carnelian mastered a burst of anger before he replied. ‘I’m only doing what I should’ve done long ago. If I had, perhaps the Tribe would still be living.’
He turned to Fern. ‘Please, Fern, think of what there is to lose.’
Fern clenched his spear tighter, but backed away enough to allow Carnelian to approach Osidian. Close up his skin looked sallow, moist.
‘Do you still have the worms in you?’ he asked in Quya.
When Osidian looked down at him, Carnelian saw that his eyes were rimmed with shadow. In spite of everything that had happened he did not like seeing him like that. Osidian grinned and his teeth seemed yellow. ‘It is not too high a price to speak to a god.’
Carnelian glanced at the three Darkcloud then at Fern. ‘I’m going to have to leave the Master in your care.’
As Fern’s face crumpled, Carnelian wondered if Osidian would be safe with his friend, but knew he had no choice. ‘Be certain, Osidian, that, if you vex him, Fern and these others will slay you.’
Osidian seemed not to have heard. His eyes had lost their fire and it was as if he was no longer there. Carnelian did not trust that. He reached up to Osidian’s aquar, ready to make it sink should he try to escape. He waited until Fern and the Darkcloud had mounted before signing Sthax to mount. Only then did he himself clamber into his saddle-chair.
‘Where’re you going?’ Fern demanded as Carnelian’s aquar rose.
‘To persuade Morunasa to save the Plainsmen.’
Fern grimaced. ‘What?’
Carnelian did not have time to explain. He made his aquar turn.
‘I’ll come with you,’ cried Fern.
Carnelian looked back. ‘I really need you to keep the Master safe.’
He saw Fern understood: even weakened as the Master was the Darkcloud might not be able to resist his power of command. When Sthax rode through the gate, Carnelian and his aquar slipped into the light after him.
Their aquar churned ash up from the Poisoned Field as they sped across it and down the Sorrowing. As he crossed the Near Sorrowbridge, he saw a wall of smoke ahead. Rising higher than the Koppie’s outer ring of trees, it was approaching like a sandstorm. His feet sent his aquar loping towards it. Soon he was riding parallel to Sthax, then with the Darkcloud, the Oracles in their midst. The faces he could see were stiff with fear. He rode on, watching the smoke fumbling towards them through the trees.
Acrid air caught at their throats as they crossed the last earthbridge out onto the fernland. Behind the billowing mass of smoke rolling towards them lurked mountainous shadows. Carnelian was shocked to find that Aurum had already arrived. Then he was startled when something resembling an arc of lightning came alive behind the veil. A screaming followed, like metal shearing; shrill, unbearable.
Squinting, he searched for Morunasa’s Marula. At the foot of the smoke wall a tide of them was mounding towards him in full flight. Just behind the Marula, partially obscured by haze, he saw Osidian’s Plainsmen. In close pursuit, a crescent of riders was extending its horns out on either flank: knowing Osidian had entered the Koppie, Aurum was attempting to encircle it with his auxiliaries.
Looking round, Carnelian saw the Darkcloud, wide-eyed, gaping. He shouted at them, but they seemed deaf. He rode his aquar into their midst, bellowing: ‘If you want your people to survive, reach the other tribes.’ He pointed at the Plainsmen hurtling towards them. ‘Get as many of them as you can to the Bluedancing.’
Some nodded, confused, then in twos and threes they sped off until only the Oracles were left, and Sthax, who was hunched, uneasy in the presence of his masters. Carnelian gestured for him to follow, then sent his aquar like an arrow towards the oncoming Marula. Sthax was soon riding alongside, a crazed grimace on his face. Glancing back, Carnelian saw the Oracles chasing them. He and they were all flying on the wings of a rising gale that was bending the ferns towards Aurum’s approaching storm. Thunder grumbled in the earth. Another arc of fire flashed into life, wavering as it slid its flame across the fernland, setting it alight; then, even as its screaming reached them, it sputtered and vanished.
Soon the Marula fleeing towards them were close enough for Carnelian to see their rictus grins. He searched and found, at their heart, the ashen faces of more Oracles. Hurtling towards this core he was aware of the Marula warriors crashing past on either side.
‘Morunasa,’ he cried, but his voice was snatched away by the gale.
Morunasa’s Oracles were almost upon him. He slowed his aquar, spun her round, then made her run back the way he had come, letting Morunasa’s Oracles overtake him. Soon when he looked to either side he could see their ashen faces, their yellow eyes wide with terror. He sensed a shape close on his left shoulder. Glancing round, he expected to see Sthax, but it was Morunasa, ravener teeth lining his gape as he shouted something. Carnelian waited until Morunasa had pulled abreast, then leaned across. ‘The Master’s my prisoner.’
Morunasa shook his head, indicating his ears, then slowed his beast and Carnelian followed suit. They came to a halt together as Marula hurtled past them.
‘The Master’s my prisoner,’ Ca
rnelian shouted. ‘Help me and I’ll help you get back your Upper Reach.’
Morunasa regarded him with wild eyes. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Take them into the Koppie.’
Morunasa jerked a nod then whipped his aquar off at furious speed. Carnelian looked for Sthax, but he was gone. He sent his aquar after Morunasa’s in swift pursuit. The sky was darkening, the ground shaking so violently dust was rising up from the earth. Suddenly his shadow was cast stark in front of him. He felt a burning at his back. He turned, squinting against the glare. A column of fire brighter than the sun was gaining on him. Its scream raped his ears as the fire shuddered away. He gaped slack-jawed as a monster emerged from the murk. It was bearing down on him like a great ship. Horns curved up like ivory figureheads. A leprous tower rose from its back, tapering in tiers, rigged, with a mast that thrust a standard like a sail up into the blackening sky. Another high whining scream shocked Carnelian out of his trance. His hand jerked up to shield his eyes from the fire-flash. Through his fingers he could see more arcing liquid-flame carve glowing curves across the ground. Then the scene was lost in sulphurous billows of smoke. Its black wave rolled over him. He was choking. Coughing, he wiped away stinging tears. His aquar lost the rhythm of her stride. He peered at where they were heading. The Newditch magnolias were rushing up. Riders were leaping the ditch like fish. He gritted his teeth. His aquar leapt. They were in the air, the ditch beneath them. Then she landed with a thump that rattled his skull and they were coursing across the ferngarden with the others. A whine chased him. Almost beyond hearing, its pitch slid down to a fearful shrieking. There was a whoosh, then roar. A wall of heat slammed into him. Turning his cheek into it, eyes welling, he saw the magnolias burning fiercely as they had in his dream.
COUNCIL OF WAR
Enough bees can kill a ravener.
(a precept of the Plainsmen)
AS HE TORE ACROSS THE FERNGARDENS, LEAPING TWO MORE DITCHES, Carnelian was relieved to put the Grove between him and the dragons. He caught up with Morunasa in the Southgarden.
‘Where’s the Master?’ cried the Oracle.
‘Marshal your warriors. We’ll need them to punch a hole through the encirclement.’
Morunasa gauged Carnelian, then swung round in his saddle-chair spitting out instructions in his own language. His Oracles raced away, riding hard to overtake the Marula flight.
He turned back. ‘Where?’
Carnelian could feel no thunder in the ground. The dragons must be circling the Koppie to cut them off. He sent his aquar past Morunasa, heading for the Old Bloodwood Tree. They leapt another ditch and careered into a body of riders crammed around the tree. Carnelian urged his aquar towards Fern’s. Osidian was there, guarded by Darkcloud. His crazed eyes drilled past Carnelian. ‘Morunasa, destroy these unbelievers.’
Carnelian’s hand, reaching for his spear, relaxed when he saw Morunasa shaking his head. ‘No, Master. Now I must do what I can to save my people.’
Carnelian addressed Osidian. ‘It’s not in your interests to impede us further. Even now Aurum is throwing his forces around us to capture you.’
Osidian’s head dropped to his chest. Carnelian looked around him. Faces were tight with terror, but he was sure they would obey him. He managed a smile for Poppy sitting with Krow. ‘We must go.’
Fern shook his head. ‘I’m staying.’
Carnelian took in all the Darkcloud with a glare. ‘If the Master’s taken your tribe’ll be burned alive.’ Then to Morunasa: ‘Get them through the auxiliaries. Now go!’
Poppy began a protest, but Krow carried them both off after Morunasa and the others as they sped off down the Blooding.
Carnelian knew this delay might hazard his whole plan. He had to get away. ‘Fern, come with me. Your mother didn’t want you to throw your life away. Live for her.’
Fern’s face darkened. ‘How dare you quote my—’
At that moment a whining scream drew their eyes towards the Grove. Hissing, the mother trees were leafed with flames. Fern’s mouth fell open as he stared, frozen by horror. Carnelian freed his spear and with its haft struck Fern’s aquar into motion. Then kicking his own he took the lead and was relieved when the other followed him.
Hurtling down the Blooding Carnelian could see, on the plain, the horns of the auxiliaries’ encirclement coming together. Osidian’s Plainsmen were a fleeing rabble already beyond their grasp. The Marula looked in better order, but would soon be overtaken by the auxiliaries. He and Fern dodged through the slaughterhouse chaos of the Killing Field. As they reached open fernland, Carnelian was glad to see that Fern seemed more composed. Both saw the Marula slowing, even as the auxiliary encirclement closed ahead of them. Their ranks opened to absorb Osidian and the Darkcloud. Carnelian and Fern coaxed even more speed out of their aquar. Soon there were Marula all around them, every eye focused on the auxiliary line thickening ahead. When the Marula let forth a battlecry, Carnelian joined his voice to theirs. Aquar added their screeching to the tumult. Their charge struck the auxiliaries with a detonation that reverberated through the ground. Their intersection frothed like a breaking wave. Then the auxiliary wall broke and he and the Marula washed through. More auxiliaries crashed into their flanks as the enveloping curve melted into pursuit. Carnelian was losing hope of escape, when trumpets screamed from behind them. He looked round and saw the auxiliaries slowing, disengaging, veering away, but his cry of triumph caught in his throat as he saw that the Grove had become the roots of a tower of smoke that might have been the Marula god rising up in wrath from the earth.
Flattened ferns formed a road that led them to the Bluedancing’s outer ditch. Several earthbridges spanned it but of these all but one had collapsed. Carnelian rode across and found himself in a ferngarden similarly trampled. It was larger than any of the Ochre outer gardens. He grew uneasy at the eerie quiet, at how tall the ferns had grown, at the saplings sprung up everywhere. Glancing round, he saw the earthbridge was funnelling the Marula. He did not wait for them all to cross, but rode towards the next ditch with Osidian and his Darkcloud escort, Fern and Morunasa, Krow and Poppy and some Oracles in their wake.
The edges of the next ditch had crumbled. The earth on the other side had been gouged by many claws. Carnelian was reassured. Those fresh red wounds showed that many aquar had crossed there today. At least some of the tribes must have come at his summons.
He jumped his aquar across then scrambled up the other side. A trail led off through another large ferngarden. At its further end rose the hill that was the koppie’s heart. Though it was not as lofty as the Ochre’s it was wider, its crags spreading as a cliff. What lay beneath surprised him. Though the grove canopy was patchy, it seemed that its mother trees had survived Osidian’s arson.
Figures were descending steps from the edge of the grove. He wanted to talk to them and to climb the crags to reassure himself Aurum was not pursuing them.
The steps turned out to be stones set into an earthbridge that curved up to the cedar hill. The ditch it crossed had been cut into the side of the slope and not at its foot. The figures coming down to meet them were Plainsmen.
‘Where’re your commanders?’ Carnelian asked.
They looked at each other, perhaps not understanding Vulgate. One turned to point up at the crags. Carnelian nodded. It made sense that their leaders were up there keeping a lookout. Dismounting, he kept a careful eye on the Plainsmen, who were staring at Osidian being helped out of his saddle-chair. It was reassuring to see the Darkcloud form a cordon round him. Even stooped, Osidian towered in their midst. Carnelian was thankful Osidian was so weakened by his infestation. Others were dismounting, including Morunasa, Krow and Poppy. He followed her glance of concern to Fern, who was still aloft.
‘Poppy?’
When she looked at him Carnelian made a gesture and she nodded. Approaching Fern’s aquar she stroked its neck to make it kneel, then coaxed Fern to climb out.
Carnelian spoke Osidian’s name and,
when he raised his head to look, Carnelian indicated the steps with his spear. ‘If you would please go first, my Lord.’
Expressionless, Osidian advanced, the Darkcloud around him. The Plainsmen on the steps drew aside, fearfully, watching him ascend. Carnelian asked Morunasa to leave word that the Marula should make their camp before the steps, then followed Osidian.
Two ancient cedars stood guard upon the entrance to the grove. Both had been maimed by fire. Bark was charcoaled up to a great height, and in places had burned away deep enough to expose the heartwood. Some of these scars reached high enough that branches had withered. Those that survived bore needles, but in brushes that hung lopsidedly.
As they climbed a grand rootstair, Carnelian saw with what haunted eyes the Darkcloud and his Plainsman friends looked around them. Ferns had invaded the hearths where the Bluedancing had eaten and talked, had shared their lives. They swamped the hollows in which they had slept, made love. The canopy above was too ragged to keep out the sky. Mutilated, the mother trees could not reach each other to plug the gaps. Carnelian could feel their anguish and the wrath they were drawing up from the earth where their daughters lay. Peering along the rootstairs and paths that split off from the one they climbed, he saw how much bigger this grove was than that of the Ochre. It gave a measure to what had been done when the Bluedancing had been destroyed. Though driven to this crime by Osidian, it was the Ochre who had set the fires. Carnelian saw Fern taking in the destruction and wondered if his friend was feeling that it was for this sin that the Mother had allowed his tribe to suffer such terrible retribution.
The Ancestor House of the Bluedancing seemed a bone boat run aground upon the crags. The flight of steps that climbed to it divided and swept up on either side towards the summit. Carnelian bowed his head as he climbed, feeling the presence of the ancestors weighing down on him. As he passed their House he dared to peer at its ivory traceries, at the buttresses of femurs that anchored it to the rock.
The Third God Page 6
