The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (26 page)

Fern leaned close to hold a finger up to Carnelian's neck, asking him permission with his eyes.

Carnelian gave the slightest nod and bit his lip when he felt Fern's touch upon his scar. As his friend described how he had found them among the slaves bent by ropes and smeared with bitumen, the Elders shook their heads and began arguing among themselves. A couple of the old men, one of whom was the man Harth had said was named Galewing, fumbled on shoes and came to see for themselves. Osidian impaled them with a glare so that they did not dare approach him. One remained transfixed looking sidelong at Osidian but the other, Galewing, came to peer up at Carnelian's neck. Carnelian could smell the man and see the light catching the carving in the salt beads threaded on his hair. They clinked as he turned to the Assembly and confirmed Fern's claim to general amazement.

Harth rose and took a
few steps towards the Standing
Dead, her face moving in and out of shadow. Her bird eyes fixing on Osidian and, then, Carnelian.

She turned to Loskai. 'Ask the Standing Dead why they were among slaves.'

'My mother wants to know why you were hiding among slaves,' said Loskai.

His mother, Carnelian thought. He could tell by the way Loskai kept his eyes on Harth, how much he was in awe of her.

'We weren't hiding. We were being taken to be sold as trophies.'

Startled, Loskai translated this and as his mother understood, her mouth fell open.

'How could this happen?' Loskai asked for her.

Carnelian grimaced, fearing that at any time Osidian's apparent passivity might crack. 'It's complicated ... politics ... the Masters ...'

Harth interrupted him. 'Ask them if it was others of the Standing Dead who did this to them?'

Loskai asked, Carnelian gave a nod and the Assembly burst into a fevered discussion which took a while to abate. Harth leaned close enough for Carnelian to see his own reflection in her eyes.

'We never imagined the Standing Dead might fight amongst themselves.'

Carnelian saw she was fascinated by his scar and so he leaned his head to stretch his neck for her. Her eyes narrowed as she reached up. He felt her dry touch. She pulled away frowning.

As she returned to her place, an old man encouraged Fern to continue. Resigned, he began describing what had happened on the road. He persevered through all Loskai's interruptions. Carnelian watched the effect Fern's report was having on the Elders. At the end of each statement they would give a nod and when Fern made a gesture like a spear thrust, they flinched. They lived the skirmish through his words.

Whenever Loskai took over, Fern's anxious glances kept finding his mother, so that Carnelian began to wonder what his friend was expecting from her.

Loskai was describing how, after they had fled, they had found Fern's brother and uncle dead in their saddle-chairs.

'Sacrilege,' cried several of the Elders.

The old men clasped their hands over their heads in horror; the women traced circles over their bellies, their heads bowed.

Fern's mother, Akaisha, looked up. Tell me something, Loskai. When you were riding away were you yourself aware that my eldest son and my husband's brother were actually dead, not merely wounded?'

Loskai tried to find an answer that would deny her what she sought, but he could find none and scowled. Akaisha cut through her son's look of gratitude by urging him to continue his story. It took Fern some moments to regain his composure, but then he began to talk about the council the raiders had held.

An old man interrupted. 'So it was my son who took over the leadership?' He did not bother to hide his pride as he looked around at his peers.

'Yes, Father Crowrane, Ranegale took over,' said Fern, bitterly. Though only because my uncle and brother had died and my father had taken a mortal wound.'

'Cloud Twostone seems to have deferred to our son, child, even though he was an Elder,' grated Harth with a nod to her husband.

Fern shrugged and only resumed his story when voices cried out demanding he continue. He proceeded to describe the long trek with the drag-cradles and, as he spoke, Carnelian relived each weary day.

Suddenly, Fern was pointing at him. 'It was this one here who chose to give up his drag-cradle for my father.'

They looked at each other.

'You mean he'd recovered his strength?' Akaisha asked.

'No, my mother, he was still weak and in so much pain he could barely walk.'

Some of the Elders discussed this, others stared at Carnelian, but it was Akaisha's gaze that made him most uncomfortable. He was glad Fern drew all their eyes away, as he began relating the days that followed until he came to the night when they had seen dragonfire reflecting in the sky. A look of fierce attention leapt into the faces of those of the men whose missing ears or four-fingered hands proclaimed legionary veterans. They swelled up as they fired one question after another, wanting to know in excessive detail everything they could about the dragon line and its dispositions. Fern obliged them as best he could. With one hand he traced a wall into the air and pierced it with the other to show them Ranegale's plan. Crowrane looked around him, his pride returned.

Loskai drew angry looks when he said loudly, 'Let him tell you how once more the dead rode in saddle-chairs. This time he can't say he didn't know. They stank.'

Fern raised a fist. 'I knew well enough but believed the Mother would forgive me so that I might save their souls for her husband, the sky.'

There were gasps of outrage and more genuflections, but Carnelian was relieved to see some of the women looking with sympathy at Akaisha. For her part, if she was suffering, she hid it well.

'Did you do this by yourself, my son?' she asked.

Fern looked at Carnelian. 'Again, my mother, this one helped me. I couldn't have done it without him.'

Harth surged to her feet glaring first at the mother and then the son. Her face turned into shadow as she gazed over the Assembly. 'Whatever the mitigating circumstances, dare we allow sacrilege to go unpunished?'

Rising, Akaisha moved to her son's side and then set herself before him as a shield. She raked the Assembly with her eyes. 'Punish him? Don't you think he's been punished enough already? He's lost his brother, not to mention his father and his uncle, both of whom sat here among you.' Tears softened her glare.

Scowling, Harth sat down as women came to comfort Akaisha. As they mumbled kindnesses, her fierceness deserted her altogether and she let herself be guided back to her place. Harth, meanwhile, had become the heart of an angry conference. The men looked on, uncertain.

'Come, Fern,' said one of the veterans. 'You might as well show us how you escaped the dragons.'

Tearing his gaze from his mother, Fern shakily redrew in the air the dragon line and the raider's trajectory. As he showed the veterans what had happened, they nodded sagely and argued among themselves whether some better stratagem could not have been devised.

'And after that?' asked Galewing.

Fern described the struggle through the rugged land beyond the Ringwall.

'We decided then ...' said Loskai.

'You and Ranegale decided,' interjected Fern and they scowled at each other.

Loskai fumbled in his robe and brought out a length of cord which he lifted up for all to see. Carnelian recognized it by its knots.

'My brother argued rightly we'd not make the meeting in time,' said Loskai triumphantly.

'He wasn't necessarily right,' said Galewing. 'We ourselves were delayed on the road and were late for the meeting by three days. It was because we thought you must've gone on without us that we hurried down to the Leper Valleys hoping to overtake you.'

Loskai lowered the cord, crestfallen.

'So what did you and Ranegale decide?' asked Galewing.

Loskai's hands hesitated on the verge of making some shape in the air.

To take us down into the swamp,' said Fern.

This produced consternation. Questions were thrown at Loskai which he did his best to answer. Clearly, he was enjoying this less than he had expected. When Fern came to Loskai's rescue with answers of his own, the Plainsman regarded him with surprise.

It was Fern who described the descent to the edge of the abyss. He made his hands into the shape of the cave they had sheltered in for the night.

He stopped and looked at Loskai. 'Do you mind?'

The man's slow head shake allowed Fern to proceed. There was an audible sucking in of breath as he began describing the slaughter of the aquar. Many faces went pale, but Fern talked on and, when he faltered, Loskai began to add his own comments, until, whenever one was uncertain, he would look to the other for support.

Fern addressed his mother as his hands showed how they had hoisted the dead up onto the rock face. His mother nodded at him through her tears and much of the Assembly murmured their approval.

Then began the story of the descent into the abyss. Halfway down, Fern addressed himself to one of the women. His hands showed the fall of the youths and the woman asked him the details with a shaky voice.

The story continued and Loskai had to admit it had been his brother's decision that they should descend from the foothills into the swamp. Many of the Elders shook their heads, horrified. Carnelian watched them huddle together as they were told of the darkest part of the journey. Soon he was lost in it himself. Once more he felt the terror creeping round in the night. Some of the Elders were looking sidelong into the murky corners of the room.

Carnelian brought his attention back to Fern's voice. He had to prepare himself for the full horror lying just a few sentences away. When it came, he saw many of the Elders, man and woman, hide behind their hands. Osidian, not understanding Fern's Ochre, was examining the Elders one at a time as if looking for a weakness in a city wall.

'My grandson torn... ?' wailed a woman, shattering the spell so that people blinked as if coming awake.

Bravely, Fern described to them the aftermath.

'How did my son die?' asked one old woman.

Fern left out the full horror of Cloud's fate, but told her he had died protecting the youths of both tribes.

She looked around her tearfully. 'Always he thought more of others than of himself.' Some of the women took her hands and stroked them as they agreed with her. 'His heart was large. His adopted tribe would've joined with us in mourning him.'

'And this ravener took no one?' asked one of the veterans, incredulous.

'He was driven away before he could,' said Fern.

His words put a frown on every face.

'Driven away?' a voice asked for all of them. 'You told us you had no fire.'

Fern looked at Osidian and, as he described how they had found him painted with gore, holding Stormrane's broken spear, Carnelian saw with what renewed awe the Elders regarded this example of the Standing Dead.

Fern's voice wove on for a while and then he drew every eye once more to Osidian as he told of the fight in which Ranegale had been killed.

'Was it fair?' Harth barked, hungry for revenge.

'It was,' Fern answered.

'How can you say that,' cried Loskai. He stabbed a finger at Osidian. 'Look how massive he is.'

Fern glowered at Loskai. 'You know full well how wasted he was from the fever; from his struggle with the ravener.'

Loskai spluttered incoherently.

Fern gave a snort of disgust. 'You were happy enough with the fight when you thought your brother would win.'

'Was it as Fern says, son?' Crowrane pleaded. When Loskai looked at the floor, his father sank back scowling.

Akaisha gave Harth and Crowrane a glance of sympathy. 'Go on, my son.'

Fern spoke in a melancholy tone of their journey into the heart of darkness. Gloom settled over his listeners like the sudden night of an eclipse and, as Fern followed the Master through the nightmare, eyes strayed to Osidian who had been their beacon in that primeval dark. When Fern's story brought them out into the bright Earthsky there was a general relief. People lost their rigid postures and sat back. A gentler twilight settled on the Assembly as Fern and Loskai together described how Osidian had found a way for them across the uncharted vastness of the Earthsky. Carnelian could feel tension returning when the story began to draw them closer to the Twostone koppie. He could see everyone knew what was coming. It was now Ginkga who told the story.

'We found them hiding in a ditch, children mostly, a few women.'

'We tried to sprinkle at least a handful of earth over their dead mothers and to drive the wingless scavengers from their fathers, but you saw how vast the slaughter was, how hopeless a task it was to keep the raveners from their feasting.'

Silence fell as everyone, blind for the moment, contemplated the immensity of such loss.

'And the survivors?' asked Fern at last.

'We brought them home with us,' said Galewing.

'We've distributed them among the hearths,' said Kyte.

'But their wounds will take a long time healing,' a woman said and there were many slow nods.