The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (102 page)

'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 Manila.'

A man's desires 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 Manila.'

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 onto 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, Flatl
anders, 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 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 rel
uctant 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 oarsmen 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 Manila 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 Manila 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.

Carnelian woke still oppressed by his nightmare. He imagined the baobabs as corpses riddled with the maggots of pygmy cadavers and shuddered. He sought distraction in watching Osidian wander around their camp selecting those who were to remain behind. The rest seemed only too happy to saddle their aquar. Soon they had descended the knoll and were riding up the escarpment, while those who were left watched forlornly.

On the chasm edge, Carnelian busied himself helping to devise a way to lower Osidian and Morunasa down to the

Ladder. It seemed impossibly far away but, Morunasa assured them, only the top fifth or so had come loose; the rest was still firmly held to the rock by wooden wedges.

Ropes were found and Osidian elected to go first. 'I shall announce my return with smoke,' he said in Quya.

Carnelian nodded and then they lowered him with the help of an aquar, using one of the Ladder anchor trees as a capstan. Morunasa was next. When the rope went slack,
Carnelian
joined the Plainsmen craning over the edge to watch the tiny figures descend the Ladder to the chasm floor.

'What now?' Ravan asked.

Carnelian
eyed the youth. 'We repair the Ladder.' 'And if we choose not to help you?' 'I won't need your help.' Fern's eyebrows rose.

Carnelian
pushed his way past Ravan and walked along the chasm edge until he came to the tensioned cables of the sartlar ladder. Ravan, Fern and many of the other Plainsmen followed him.

'What're you doing, Carnie?' asked Fern.

'You'll see soon enough.'
Carnelian
hung himself on the nearest cable, then let it go. A satisfying quiver could be heard ratding down into the chasm.

'Where does this go?' Ravan asked, but
Carnelian
ignored him and pulled the cable down twice more. Then he waited. As time passed and nothing happened, he grew embarrassed.
Carnelian
pulled on the cable three times more in quick succession. He went to the edge and looked over. The rippling in the netting stilled, then nothing.

'What's going on?' Fern pleaded.

Carnelian
confronted them. 'I'm trying to summon the sartlar the Master told me are lodged in caves beneath our feet.'

Ignoring their looks of disbelief, Carnelian turned his back on the fall, knelt on the chasm edge and, taking hold of the netting, lowered himself down.

The ladder was like rigging. Clambering down it, Carnelian snagged his foot often, so that each time he had to, precariously, disentangle it. He froze whenever he caught a glimpse of the rock face plunging away into the dizzying depths.