Figures danced in the tapestry. Feathers that were green and black and red, so tiny they could have been brushstrokes. Once again he stroked the tapestry aside, saw the door, located the catch, opened it. Beyond, steps curved down into darkness. He put his head in, lifted the lamp and spilled light down a few more steps. Desiring to see more of them, he began descending. Round and round, spiralling down into the darkness.
He emerged into a pillared vault. Lifting the lamp, he saw, leaning against pillars, two cocoons, each taller than a man. He regarded them with horror, expecting at any moment to see within them some jerking, unhuman movement. What monsters could such things pupate? Once certain that nothing within them lived, he dared to approach. Ivory as translucent as wet parchment. Their narrow height had a suggestion of sarcophagi. Within, some darker masses that might have been bodies. He reached out and touched one. It had a skin-smooth surface, though he could feel swirls under his fingers. He lifted the lantern and peered close, but could not make out what lay inside. In the corner of his vision, he saw something that almost made him drop his lantern. A third cocoon not far away, but this one was open. In it he could see four feet side by side. He raised the light, trembling, up the legs. The outermost and larger pair were bound with pale leather bands. Between the legs, a smaller figure. He moved the edge of light up to see its face. It dazzled him. He angled the lamp and the dazzle abated to reveal a face like the moon. The face of a child near slumber. Carnelian gaped at the homunculus. Then he noticed what it was holding before it. A staff topped by a cross or what might have been a spider. This cypher was crowned by a crescent moon. His eyes darted to the creature’s throat, where long fingers meshed around it in a stranglehold. He played the light up above the homunculus’ head and found shadow welling in the hollows of a living skull face.
LEGIONS
Each Domain corresponds to a lunar month. Each takes the form of a tree with a Grand Sapient as its root. Each has two direct subordinates; each in turn has two more and so on. The number of Sapients in a major Domain is sixty-three; in a minor Domain, thirty-one. Only the Grand Sapients of the major Domains have Seconds as their immediate subordinates; all other Grand Sapients have Thirds. The major Domains are Legions, Lands, Tribute and Cities; the minor are Mentor, Roads, Law, Immortality, Labyrinth, Gates, Rain and Blood.
(extract from a beadcord manual of the Wise of the Domain Mentor)
‘SUTH CARNELIAN,’ SAID THE HOMUNCULUS IN A HIGH, UNHUMAN VOICE that made Carnelian’s scalp crawl. In shock, he stared up at the Sapient. Skin, sallow leather. A cavity gaping where there should have been a nose. Eyepits, empty. Except for the straps that held him upright within the hollow of the capsule, the Sapient appeared to be entirely naked. He seemed to be strangling the homunculus that stood between his legs. Carnelian’s focus snapped back to the finial of the staff the homunculus was holding. Its lurid red stone was in form something like the horned head of a dragon. Though he had never seen the cypher before, he could guess what it indicated. ‘You are of the Domain Legions?’
‘I am Legions.’
Carnelian froze with terror. Standing before him was one of the twelve Grand Sapients and master of by far the greater part of the Commonwealth’s might. ‘What are you doing here . . . my Lord?’
Behind its silver mask, the homunculus murmured an echo to Carnelian’s words. A coiling around its neck drew Carnelian’s eyes. The corpse fingers came alive like worms. Their fretting at the homunculus’ throat made it speak again. ‘It is you, my Lord, who have need to answer that question. What do you intend to do with the forces you have stolen from the Commonwealth?’
The authority in those words compelled Carnelian to explain himself. The reason Osidian would have given seemed too absurd to voice. How could they hope to remove Molochite, now God Emperor, and set Osidian up in his place? From Carnelian’s heart came what mattered to him: to save his loved ones, the Plainsmen and the Lepers who even now were not far away in direct defiance of the Law-that-must-be-obeyed. Gazing up, he struggled to marshal enough belief to answer the Grand Sapient.
‘You may have managed to defeat that fool Aurum with the rabble of barbarians you conquered with the Ochre tribe, but can it really be that you intend to challenge us directly?’
The mention of the murdered tribe snatched the breath from Carnelian’s lips. How much did the Wise know? Though it felt like a betrayal, he must not hesitate to use the massacre of the Tribe in whatever way he could to save others. As for Osidian, he owed him nothing. ‘Osidian destroyed the Ochre to the last child. It was through this that he terrorized the other tribes into obeying him, but their fear of the Commonwealth turned out greater and they soon deserted him rather than follow him to the Guarded Land.’
‘But not before my Lord Nephron used them to annihilate an entire legion’s auxiliaries.’
Beneath his bandages, sweat ran down Carnelian’s back. The looming Grand Sapient was standing in judgement upon the Plainsmen. Carnelian grasped at various retorts. All seemed dangerous, but silence most dangerous of all. The Grand Sapient’s line of argument must be challenged. ‘Still, they abandoned him as soon as they could.’
As the homunculus echoed Carnelian’s words, the leathery face rose out of the hollow in which it lay. ‘Does my Lord imagine we do not know it is Marula who do my Lord Nephron’s bidding now?’
Carnelian felt panic rising.
‘Not only they, but the vermin recently come up from the land below . . .’
Carnelian felt as if he were only now becoming aware of the web in which he was caught. He fought to calm himself. To struggle would only ensnare him more completely.
The Grand Sapient creased the horned-ring branded into his forehead. ‘Though we have not yet determined why they would seek such futile and self-destructive defiance.’
This doubt was the first vulnerability Carnelian had detected in his inquisitor. ‘Perhaps they seek revenge against the atrocities recently visited upon them by my Lord Aurum.’
‘So in this case you admit they defy us of their own will?’
Carnelian recoiled. His resistance had served only to condemn the Lepers further. It seemed the ground around him was scattered with broken glass.
More movement at the homunculus’ throat. ‘Though you may have found a way up into the Guarded Land unknown to us, be certain we shall find it, plug it and chastise those who showed it to you.
‘You may have obtained control of one of our legions, but do you imagine it will be enough to defeat us, who have more than forty we can wield against you? Do you really hope to prevail with your one where even Kakanxahe, with all the legions at his back, failed? Have no doubt, Suth Carnelian: your rebellion will end in failure. We seek merely to limit unnecessary destruction and bloodshed.’
The Grand Sapient leaned forward enough that light welled into his eyepits, which were revealed to have a reddish hue. ‘Help me put this madness to an end, child.’
Carnelian stared at the red pits.
‘Though Nephron has been wronged, what has been done cannot be undone. For him there is no hope. The moment his brother donned the Masks, Nephron’s life was forfeit. You, however, can still be saved. Though you have transgressed against the Law, there are loopholes in it that I could help you exploit.’
Carnelian shook his head, mesmerized by the mummy face. He would not save himself if that meant leaving all those he loved to perish.
Though eyeless, the Grand Sapient seemed to gaze at him. ‘The God Emperor might be grateful enough to gift you a bloodpure bride.’
Carnelian’s expression must have been relayed to the Grand Sapient, for it receded up into the shadows of the capsule hollow. ‘I could see to it that you were given the ruling of your House.’
Those words struck at Carnelian’s heart. ‘Would you have me supplant my own father?’
‘No need for that, he has been deposed.’
‘Deposed?’ Carnelian said, feeling pressure in his chest.
‘Ykori
ana had the Clave depose him.’
‘In revenge for his opposing her—’ For a moment Carnelian felt relief, thinking that of all possible punishments, deposal was the lightest. Then he realized that, without him there, Spinel and the Second Lineage would have become masters of House Suth. Ykoriana’s revenge was typically cruel.
‘We know you have other reasons to hate the Empress.’
Carnelian stared up at the shadowy mummy.
‘We know, though have been unable to prove, she was behind your kidnapping. She and the Brotherhood of the Wheel who captured you in the Yden.’
The pain of the news about his father was combining in Carnelian with the anguish of that night that seemed now so long ago. Rage rose in him against the agent of all their woes. ‘The Hanuses admitted they were her instrument?’
The Grand Sapient gave a slight nod. ‘There have been reasons to suspect their involvement. How did the Brotherhood remove you from Osrakum?’
‘In funerary urns.’
The Grand Sapient released his hold on the homunculus, who half-turned, perhaps startled at the separation. Watching the pale hands return to coil about the creature’s throat Carnelian realized this was something the Grand Sapient had not known. Again the feeling of being ensnared. What else had he given away?
The homunculus began to speak again. ‘You have good reason to feel grievance against her. She has taken much from you.’
Carnelian gazed at the Grand Sapient, who presently became aware of his wariness. ‘It is she who has coarsened your skin, child. She who has given it the taint of the impure. You will never be free of that scar about your neck.’
Instinctively, Carnelian’s hand rose to touch the scar, but his fingers struck bandages. His scar was concealed. Of course the ammonites of the purgatory had witnessed him naked. His unease flared to horror as he remembered the homunculus at the foot of his bed. Had the Grand Sapient examined him? That thought left him feeling violated.
‘Even now she swells powerful on your suffering. We too have cause to hate her, child. Though it is her son who wears the Masks, it is she who rules. This is why we have sought to bring Nephron to Osrakum alive. If he accuses her, we can pull her down.’
‘And then you would have him slain and use his blood to anoint his brother’s Masks.’
‘That is the Law.’
‘The Law.’
‘Without it, there would be chaos.’
Carnelian sensed how the Grand Sapient lusted to have Osidian in his power. Though his heart misgave at what he must do, he could not pass up this chance to negotiate while he still could. ‘I will give him to you, but I have a price . . .’
‘Name it.’
‘Your vow that the Wise will take no vengeance on the barbarians who have been involved in this affair; not one of them is to be harmed.’
The Grand Sapient leaned forward again as if peering at Carnelian, who endured the regard of those eyepits. The Grand Sapient’s silence was more terrible than his borrowed voice. He remained motionless for so long, hope began to well up in Carnelian that was almost enough to eclipse his ache at the thought of betraying Osidian.
At last the fingers started moving at the homunculus’ throat. ‘You ask nothing for yourself?’
Almost Carnelian answered: This is for myself, but his heart warned him against it. Instead he considered what might happen to him once he had given them Osidian. In the Three Lands, there was only one place he could live. He imagined returning to Osrakum. Hope lit in him that he could save his father. Mentally, he shook his head. It was already too complicated. Ykoriana’s fall would have to be enough upon which to build his father’s return to supremacy in their coomb.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
The Grand Sapient seemed to regard him for an age. Carnelian felt that he could almost see the thoughts flitting through that mutilated head.
‘Of course I cannot accede to your request. The Commonwealth depends for her existence on terror. Without this, her fabric would unravel. Her subjects must know the Law to be absolute. They must have no doubt whatever that their transgressions will be punished mercilessly. To pardon even one of these barbarians their sins would be to put the Commonwealth into greater peril than that which you and the Lord Nephron pose.’
Carnelian’s hope was quenched by flooding disappointment, but he felt also relief. ‘Then you leave me no choice, my Lord.’ He could not pretend to play the game further. ‘I will fight you, though I do not know how or to what end it will bring me.’
The Grand Sapient’s fingers kneaded instructions into the homunculus’ neck. ‘Then Nephron’s fall shall encompass your own.’ The pale hands let go the creature’s throat and the Grand Sapient folded them over his chest.
Carnelian stared. The Grand Sapient resembled nothing as much as he did a huskman. Certainly, he seemed no more alive. Carnelian backed away, then turned and made his way back to the stair. He was relieved that he did not have to betray Osidian, but the greatest comfort was the removal of doubt. At least now he knew exactly who to fight.
‘He has to come,’ Carnelian muttered to himself. He had persuaded Sthax to go and fetch Fern from the cothon. The Maruli had wanted to know what was going on, but Carnelian could not even begin to explain. In the end he had told him that he did not know. He had not lied. The only thing he was certain of was that he could not handle Legions on his own. Osidian must be informed of his discovery. Carnelian had considered making the journey to see him, but he did not dare leave the Grand Sapient unattended. Were Legions to emerge from the vault Carnelian was not confident he could stop Aurum’s household obeying him. He could not trust the quaestor, who was the Grand Sapient’s creature, and to send Sthax with a letter would be to expose him to the scrutiny of Morunasa.
He gazed anxiously towards the outer door. Fern had to come. There was no one else he could trust, no one who had such a good chance to get through to Osidian.
He peered through the haze of myrrh smoke rising from censers into the corner of the chamber. Several times already he thought he had seen movement there. A smothered gleam that might have been a homunculus mask or the shadows coalescing into the sinister form of the Grand Sapient. Carnelian was frantic that Legions would escape. He wished he had had the presence of mind to look for other exits from the vault. He could go down there now, but he feared the Grand Sapient’s voice, his logic, his power of command. He had no illusions. He had managed to withstand the Grand Sapient’s arguments only because his mask of reasonableness had slipped momentarily to reveal the bleak mercilessness behind.
He glanced again towards the outer door. What was taking Fern so long? His gaze was drawn, unwillingly, back to the dark corner. He remembered the capsules. Those could not be native to this fortress. A creeping horror rose in him as he contemplated how the Grand Sapient might have travelled here in one. And who were his two companions? And was it a coincidence that he should have ended up occupying a chamber directly above the vault? He shuddered as again he imagined the Grand Sapient standing over him as he slept. Shuddered as he imagined those pale fingers touching him while he dreamed dark dreams.
When Fern entered, Carnelian could only stare. He seemed smaller than Carnelian remembered. A little older? He reminded himself that it was amazing Fern was there at all. The scars the fire had left on the side of his neck were like the baroquing on Ichorian armour. Carnelian wondered if it was the sartlar salve that had healed them so well. Though he could not see his shoulder and arm, Fern did not seem to him disfigured. Indeed, Carnelian was only too aware of how even the Leper shrouds could not conceal how well made he was.
‘Kneel, barbarian,’ an ammonite hissed.
Carnelian had forgotten the ammonites who had entered before Fern. He must remember where he was; who he was. He dismissed them with a harsh hand. They turned their masks to him, hesitated, but then retreated, bowing. He held his breath until they had left and closed the doors behind them. It was only then he became aware Fern was staring at
him. He felt his gaze like a blow. His entire body reacted. He wanted so much to approach him, to touch him. The grim intensity in Fern’s eyes would have been enough to stay him even had he not proceeded to reinforce the difference in their rank. ‘Master.’
He did not even bow his head, so that the word had not a hint of subservience, but only a defiance that filled Carnelian with a wrenching fear for him. Brass glimmering at his throat was even worse. That collar proved Fern a deserter from the legions, which on its own rendered his life forfeit. Carnelian breathed deep, centring himself. The business he had summoned him for must be transacted as briskly as possible. ‘I need you to go to the Master and take him a message.’
The Third God Page 32
