The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (49 page)

Osidian
rose
and
passed
in
front
of
Carnelian,
who
had no
choice
but
to
join
him.
People
grumbled
as
they looked
from
Akaisha
to
Ravan.
Osidian
loomed
over
the youth,
both
of
them
waiting.

Carnelian
saw
the
upset
on
Akaisha's
face
but
could think
of
nothing
he
could
say.
He
glanced
at
Fern
and they
exchanged
nods,
then
he
left
the
hearth
and
did
not look
back
once.

Every
one
of
the
men
waiting
with
aquar
at
the
earth-bridge
turned
to
watch
the
approach
of
the
Standing Dead.
A
group
came
out
to
meet
them,
among
whom Carnelian
could
see
Loskai
with
his
swollen
lips.
As
they came
closer,
Carnelian
recognized
Crowrane
and Galewing,
both
of
whom
he
remembered
from
his
appearance
before
the
Eiders.
Galewing
seemed
much
younger than
the
other
Elder.

'My
fathers,'
Ravan
said
bowing
his
head
and Carnelian
did
the
same.

Galewing
regarded
both
Standing
Dead
with
a
frown. Without
taking
his
eyes
off
them
he
turned.
'You're
sure you
want
to
risk
taking
them
with
us?'

'Yes,'
said
Crowrane,
his
face
wooden.

Loskai's
eyes
were
burning
with
a
malicious
hunger.
A fixed
grin
showed
his
missing
teeth.

Galewing
looked
into
Carnelian's
eyes
and
then
into Osidian's.
'You
ride
out
of
the
Koppie
under
the
authority
of Father
Crowrane,'
he
said,
in
Vulgate.
'If
you
disobey
him, if
you
try
to
escape,
you
will
be
killed.
You
understand?'

Glancing
at
father
and
son,
Carnelian
was
sickened
at the
thought
of
delivering
himself
into
their
hands.

'Do
you
accept?'
demanded
Galewing.

Osidian
shrugged.
He
was
gazing
off
towards
the brightening
plain.
Carnelian
searched
his
eyes
for
any sign
that
he
was
aware
of
the
danger
they
were
putting themselves
in.

'Answer
Father
Galewing,'
barked
Loskai,
making Carnelian
jump.

Carnelian
saw
there
was
going
to
be
no
backing
out
and so
gave
Galewing
his
nod.

The
Elder
turned
away,
bellowing.
'Mount
up.'

As
aquar
sank
to
the
ground,
Carnelian's
attention
was attracted
to
one
being
walked
towards
him
by
Krow.
They exchanged
smiles.

'It's
good
to
see
you,
Krow.'

'And
you,
Master.'

Carnelian
would
have
liked
to
talk
but
it
was
not
the time.
He
was
soon
preoccupied
trying
to
get
comfortable
in the
narrow
saddle-chair.
Its
sides
cut
into
his
thighs.
His legs,
hooked
awkwardly
over
the
crossbeam,
were
forced almost
against
his
chest
as
he
angled
his
feet
onto
the aquar's
back.
Glancing
over,
he
saw
Osidian
was
having the
same
problem.
He
used
his
feet
to
make
the
creature rise
and
immediately
had
to
turn
her
onto
the
path
towards the
bridge
the
first
riders
were
already
crossing.

Notwithstanding
the
discomfort,
Carnelian
managed
to manoeuvre
his
aquar
safely
across
the
bridge
and
was soon
being
jogged
down
an
avenue
of
magnolias
to
the outer
ditch.
He
was
shaken
into
a
more
natural
position and
was
soon,
in
spite
of
his
fears,
enjoying
the
ride.

Crossing
the
final
bridge,
he
looked
down
into
the Newditch
and
saw
it
was
filled
with
baskets
and mattocks.
Its
inner
wall
was
striped
with
the
ropes
that dangled
down
into
it
from
the
trees
all
along
the
edge. Craning
round,
he
saw
riders
accompanying
a
group
of women
through
the
ferngarden
towards
the
workings.

A
judder
in
his
saddle-chair
forced
him
to
look
where he
was
going.
Riders
were
milling
in
all
directions.

'Master.'

It
was
Krow,
pointing
to
where
he
should
go.
Carnelian thanked
him
and
saw
the
riders
had
formed
up
around
a solid
centre
of
perhaps
two
dozen
aquar
yoked
to
drag-cradles
stacked
with
empty
waterskins.
He
took
up
a position
near
Osidian
and
Ravan
who
were
squinting
into the
far
distance.
Only
some
acacias
gave
the
view
any scale.
All
around
them
were
riders
with
unhitched javelins,
with
bull-roarers
ready
across
their
laps. Carnelian
ran
his
hands
along
the
outer
surface
of
his saddle-chair,
but
could
find
no
weapons.
This
discovery sunk
him
back
into
despondency.

A
high
warbling
cry
rose
up
and,
as
one,
the
aquar lurched
forward.
Carnelian
attempted
to
settle
into
the rhythm
of
his
aquar's
pace,
snuffling
the
musky
breeze, trying
to
lull
his
unease
by
listening
to
the
chatter
of
the riders,
the
hiss
of
ferns
along
his
aquar's
flanks.
Every
so often
he
had
to
adjust
his
position
to
alleviate
the
discomfort.
He
looked
back
to
see
how
much
the
Koppie
had receded.
The
air
had
grown
hot
enough
to
make
it
waver like
a
mirage.
He
thought
of
Fern
already
labouring among
the
flies
under
the
Bloodwood
Tree.
When
he
lost sight
of
the
Koppie
altogether,
a
stab
in
his
stomach
was the
realization
he
might
never
see
it
again.