The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (79 page)

Carnelian
walked
towards
him
and
the
youths
made way
as
they
might
have
done
for
Osidian
himself.

'You
knew
this
would
happen,'
Carnelian
said
in
Quya.

Osidian's
eyes
had
lost
their
over-bright
look.
He
shook his
head
slowly,
narrowing
his
eyes
as
he
gazed
out.

'You
are
in
error,
Carnelian,
I
did
not
know.'

Carnelian
became
aware
Ravan
and
others
were
keenly watching
their
exchange.
Carnelian
sensed
Ravan's resentment,
but
chose
to
ignore
it.
He
felt
compelled
to address
Osidian
in
Quya,
even
though
it
was
turning
all those
around
them
into
barbarians.

'But
you
promised
it
when
you
left
us
there.'

As
Carnelian
lifted
his
arm
to
point
he
became
aware of
the
blood
staining
it
to
the
elbow.
His
mind
was
drawn back
to
the
slow
dance
of
the
battle.
He
saw
past
the vision
to
the
marshy
ground
littered
with
the
broken remnants
of
men
and
aquar;
spears
and
saddle-chairs. The
men
of
the
hornwall
were
slogging
towards
them. With
some
effort,
Carnelian
wrenched
his
gaze
back
to Osidian's
serene
face.

'You
promised
us
this
...
this
victory,'
he
said,
spitting out
that
last
word
because
it
felt
filthy
in
his
mouth.

Osidian
turned
his
green
eyes
on
him.
'I
would
have promised
anything,
anything
at
all
for
this
chance.
The dead
would
not
have
reproached
me
in
defeat.'

'Chance?
What
do
you
mean,
chance?'

Osidian
turned
away,
seemingly
distracted
by
the moaning
of
the
dying.
An
aquar
that
had
been
felled
lay intermittently
screeching,
its
tail
lifting
then
subsiding, its
taloned
foot
feebly
gouging
the
bloody
mud.
The youths'
excited
chatter
seemed
to
be
mocking
the
poor creature's
attempts
to
rise.
Then
they
quietened. Following
their
gaze,
he
saw
the
Elders
approaching, faces
sagging
with
age.

Ravan
stepped
up
to
welcome
them.
'My
fathers,
is
this not
a
vast
victory
the
Master
has
given
us?'

Kyte
surveyed
the
carnage.
'Yes,
vast.'

Fern's
eyes
were
welling
tears.
He
grew
suddenly enraged.
'What
are
you
all
doing
behaving
as
if
this
were a
wedding?'

Then
everyone
saw
Crowrane,
bowed,
the
body
of
his son
in
his
arms.
A
silence
fell
which
allowed
them
to
hear the
dying.

'Are
you
all
deaf?'
Kyte
demanded.
He
seemed
to
have become
ancient
since
the
morning.
His
hand
shook
out. 'Go
finish
what
you've
begun.'

Sullenly,
in
ones
and
twos,
taking
their
flint
axes,
the Plainsmen
wound
off
across
the
battlefield.

Tears
were
rewetting
the
blood
on
Kyte's
face
as
he watched
them.
This
is
an
abomination.'

'What?'
shouted
Ravan.
'Haven't
we
been
delivered from
destruction?
Wouldn't
this
have
been
our
own
fate
if the
Master
hadn't
saved
us?'

Fern
regarded
his
brother
with
horror.
Kyte
wiped
away tears
and
regarded
Ravan
with
unconcealed
wrath.
'Can't you
see,
boy,
all
the
men
of
the
Bluedancing
lying
as carrion
at
your
feet?'

'What
of
it?'
said
Ravan,
face
reddening.

'"What
of
it?'"
echoed
Kyte.
He
looked
up
blinking at
the
sky.
His
bloodshot
eyes
fell
on
Ravan.
'Who'll protect
the
hearths
of
the
Bluedancing?
Who'll
hunt
for their
mothers
and
their
children
now
their
strength
lies here
rotting
on
this
ground?'

Ravan's
mouth
hung
open
but
he
did
not
seem
to
have anything
to
say.

'Well,
thank
the
Skyfather
you've
run
dry
at
last,'
said Fern
and
was
rewarded
with
a
look
of
hatred.

'What
did
the
old
man
say?'
Osidian
asked
Ravan.

The
youth
regained
something
of
his
composure
as
he translated
Kyte's
words
into
Vulgate.

'I
regret
this
but
we
clearly
had
no
choice,'
said Osidian.
'Is
it
certain
the
Bluedancing
are
finished?'

Galewing
nodded.
They
are
no
more.'

Then
we
must
do
what
we
can
to
save
what
is
left.'

The
old
men
focused
narrowed
eyes
on
Osidian.

'You
could
take
their
children
into
the
Ochre
to
swell your
strength.'

The
old
gave
wary
nods:
the
youths
standing
round looked
uncertain.

Their
salt
shall
swell
the
wealth
of
the
Ochre.'

This
the
Elders
listened
to
more
attentively.

They'll
have
a
good
quantity
of
it,
sure
enough,'
said Galewing.
He
looked
over
to
where
their
men
were moving,
silencing
the
dying
with
blows.

Osidian
addressed
his
next
comment
to
everyone. 'We
can
send
those
of
them
already
marked
for
the tithe
to
the
Mountain
in
place
of
your
own
children.'