His father's hand jabbed a sharp negation. 'Surely you had understood that they are not to come with us?'
'My Lord?'
They are an encumbrance we cannot risk. Their faces proclaim who we are.'
Carnelian felt sick. 'But I gave assurances.'
His father's eyes narrowed. 'Which you should not have given.'
Carnelian opened his mouth to say more.
His father's hand flew up, Enough! 'Whatever it is that you have said it is my will to overrule. You may take Tain because he does not yet bear our mark. What little state you are allowed, he will keep.'
'Will he be safe?'
His father looked at him, confused. 'What?' His hand made a vague gesture. 'As safe as you or I.'
Jaspar came towards them, his ranga and bandaged legs lending him the gait of someone wading through water. He pursed his lips. 'One fears this journey will be exceedingly tedious.'
Vennel raised his voice behind them. All four Masters turned to listen to him. 'I shall go to make sure my household have made the preparations I commanded.'
There is no time for that, my Lord,' Aurum said quickly.
Jaspar moved off towards them. 'We must hold a conclave ere we leave this tower, Vennel.'
Suth turned to join them, but Carnelian reached up to touch his arm. His father turned back. 'What is it?'
Carnelian could see the irritation in his face. 'Might I be permitted enough time to return to the household to bid them all farewell?'
His father frowned.
'And to ensure all arrangements properly made?' Carnelian added.
The other Masters were now involved in some kind of argument.
'If you must,' his father snapped. 'But do not dally. A guide will be there to bring our baggage to the gate. Let him lead you. I shall be going there immediately ...' He looked over to the others.'... with the other Lords.'
Carnelian walked as quickly as his ranga shoes would allow. Each step clattered echoes round the hall. When he reached their door the banners of House Suth no longer flanked it. He was wondering if he had come to the wrong one when he heard muffled voices. He flung his weight against the door. It gave way slowly, heavily. As he squeezed through the opening he trod on something and bent to pick it up. It was an iris, crushed, its bruised purple skin dusted with its own pollen.
Running up towards him, Tain stopped to look him up and down, no doubt startled by the strange clothes and the ranga shoes. Thank the Gods you've come, Carnie.'
He cast a quick, unhappy look around him. People were wrapping vases in the blue canopies. Someone cried, The Master.' People dropped to the ground. A cloth came loose and wriggled down to the floor. Among them a single figure was left standing. It was Keal, his look so intense that Carnelian almost dropped his gaze. He felt shamed.
'You're not going,' he said in a thin voice. It was difficult to squeeze the words out; his throat seemed to have narrowed. People were looking up at him from their prostrations. Everywhere he saw their bewildered eyes. Anger surged in him. He lumbered forward and slapped a stack of boxes. They crunched to the floor. A bowl rolled and shattered. 'Why are you packing? You must all be stupid. You're not going, I tell you.'
'We're being moved into the slave pens,' said Keal. 'When the arrangements have been made we'll be setting off after you along the road.'
Carnelian noticed a man's back wearing the Legate's green. The stranger was the only one still prostrate. 'You!' he shouted. The man trembled. 'Yes, I'm talking to you.' The man looked up. The Legate's sign marred his face like a birthmark. Carnelian pointed at him. 'Get out and wait for me outside.' The man stumbled to his feet and cringed past Carnelian, who watched him slip out between the doors before turning back to his people.
Keal's eyes, Tain's eyes, so many eyes.
Carnelian removed his mask and bowed his head a little, giving in to its heaviness. 'I did what I could. I can't see what more you could expect of me.'
Keal nodded, but did not stop looking at him with pain in his face and something like an accusation of betrayal.
'Crail's gone,' said Tain.
Carnelian turned on him. 'What do you mean he's gone?'
The Master left a command that we were to hand him over to the other Master's men. The ones with the line tattoo,' said Keal, running his finger from his forehead down the bridge of his nose to his lips.
Blood drained from Carnelian's face. His father had given Crail to Aurum. 'When?'
They came for him just after you left with the Master.'
Carnelian wrung his hands, stared blindly, chewed at his lower lip. He felt snared and bleeding in a trap. 'Maybe it's not too late,' he muttered. He strode over to Keal. A pain of love passed between them. They embraced hard. 'Look after them, brother,' said Carnelian.
He felt Keal's nod against his chest. He disengaged, making sure he did not look into his face. Sniffing, he turned to the others, all standing now. 'Don't fear that I'll forget you. Take care on the road. I'll be waiting for you in our coomb in the Mountain.'
He looked at Tain and saw he was struggling to hold back tears. Carnelian made his decision. 'You're staying here.'
Tain looked appalled. 'But I'm supposed to go with you.'
Carnelian shook his head. 'It'll be too dangerous.'
'Who's going to take care of you?'
Keal wiped his eyes and pointed towards a heap of carefully bound parcels. 'Everything's ready. It would take ages to separate his things from yours.'
Tain looked at Keal gratefully.
'He'll look after you for us,' said Keal and there were several nods behind him.
Carnelian saw the tearful determination in their faces. 'I've no time for this. Tain, come if you must.'
Tain started scooping up the parcels. Another boy Carnelian did not know helped him. His face was also unmarked. Tain caught his brother looking at the boy. 'He's new.'
'For the Master's care?' Carnelian asked.
'Bought locally.'
'Come on, then. Take one of those lanterns. We must hurry if we're going to have any chance to save Crail.'
Once through the door, Carnelian tried to move fast, but the ranga resisted his efforts. He tripped and almost fell. He stopped to calm himself. The others stood nearby gaping at him. Carnelian bent down and undid the straps of the shoes. He stepped down off them, picked them up, then lurched off with long strides. Even through the bandages he could feel the floor's cold stone. The hall echoed with the irregular scuffles the others made as they struggled to keep up with him.
When they had passed the door of the silver ammonites, Carnelian found three archways to choose from. He swung round to find the guide. The man was some way back, flustered, panting. His lantern wobbled its light across the floor and up and down the columns. Carnelian went back, tore it from his hand, then grabbed some of Tain's burden. He ignored his brother's protests at the impropriety and took some more boxes from the new boy, who stared with wide-eyed disbelief at the strange young Master.
Carnelian turned to the guide. 'Which way?'
The guide pointed at one of the archways and Carnelian plunged into it.
Passages, gates, Carnelian blazed a trail for them through the blackness. It seemed a long time till they reached the stairway. The portcullis that led to it was raised. Above them its toothed edge just caught the light. Carnelian held his lantern up and saw the wide shallow steps going down. Looking back he saw the knot that Tain and the others made. 'I'll go ahead,' he cried to them. 'You lot follow as fast as you can.'
Finding each step was difficult. Carnelian could hardly see them through the eyeslits of his mask. He put the lantern and the shoes down and removed his mask. Carrying it and the boxes in one hand and the lantern and shoes in the other, he raced off, taking the steps two at a time.
He descended flights that were straight and others that curved leftwards out of sight. He came to a long landing. The portcullis that controlled access to it was up. His lantern found a grating halfway
along the landing's right-hand wall. It was a gateway closed against him. There was no way of knowing if it was the right one. He put down everything he was carrying and gave the bars a good shake. They hardly moved at all. He punched his fist into his hand. The scuffling sounds the others made came remotely down from the airy dark. He had to wait for them.
He held his mask in front of his face as Tain appeared followed by the guide and the new boy, both looking scared. Carnelian grabbed one of the portcullis bars. 'Here?' he cried.
The guide was breathing heavily. This .. . this is only ... the legionary stratum ... Master. The West Gate lies ... further down.'
Carnelian did not wait to hear more, but was off down the next flight cursing at the delay.
The stairway widened as he reached another closed gate. He hesitated for a moment. He could hear the noises of Tain and the others following him down. He looked through the grating. He made his decision. On he ran, finding the steps in the swing of lantern light. A glow welled up to meet him. He could hear the distinctive tones of Quya. The voices stilled. He put his mask up and rounded a bend.
Guttering torches revealed a line of guardsmen making a fence with their swords. Their anxious faces were all disfigured by the Legate's mark. He walked down to meet them. Their swords and heads fell together. Carnelian looked over them, searching for his father. He spotted the tall shadows standing at the back. One of them came forward, breaking through the guardsmen.
'Carnelian.' It opened its cowl to reveal his father's mask. 'Hide yourself, boy.' He was holding up Carnelian's salt-stained travelling cloak. He stiffened. 'By the blood, are you actually carrying baggage?' He looked down. 'And where are your ranga?'
Carnelian looked at the shoes dangling from his hand on their straps. To aid my speed.'
His father leant close, pushing the cloak into his hand. 'Why do you persist in shaming me?'
Carnelian's cheeks burned as if they had been slapped. He sat down on the steps. His fingers were clumsy doing up the mask's bands behind his head and strapping the shoes to his bandaged feet. It seemed to him that he could feel the eyes of all the Masters on him. He stood up on the ranga, threw the cloak around his shoulders, then shoved his way through the Legate's guardsmen, pushing towards his father. The forbidding shapes of the other Masters loomed around him.
'We had thought you lost,' said Jaspar.
'It would appear that we are all lost,' said Vennel.
'Nobody is lost, my Lord,' snapped Aurum.
'I still cannot understand why we could not bring our slaves to help us on our way,' said Vennel. 'It is distasteful to have to use another's tyadra, especially when they come from a Lesser—'
'We all feel naked,' snapped Suth. 'But what use is it standing here on this stairway discussing it? We must press on. Soon it will be dawn.'
'One is forced to point out that it is your own son who delays us, my Lord.'
Suth ignored him and set off down the stairway at a furious pace. The guardsmen scrambled after him, their torches painting everything with jerking shadow.
Carnelian walked beside his father. Aurum was on his father's other side. He hoped the old Master would not move away from them to allow him to talk freely. They passed under another raised portcullis. He looked round and saw Tain and the others coming into sight. Carnelian turned back to his father. 'My Lord?'
His father's mask looked sideways at him.
'Your old and trusted servitor, Crail—'
'Has been destroyed,' said Aurum in a monotone. The trauma of the amputations...' He waved his hand dismissively.
Carnelian felt a numbing spreading from his stomach. 'By whose command was this done?'
'By command of the Law-that-must-be-obeyed and in the manner prescribed,' said Aurum.
'You gave Crail over to him, Father?'
'He sinned against the Law. I did try to tell you earlier...'
'But ... but you said ...' His head was trapped in ice. 'If he had to die it should have been with us, in our House, where he served us all the days of his life. We brought him with us to keep him safe.' His father's impassive mask exasperated him. 'Gods' blood, Father, he was your brother!'
'You stray into impertinence, my Lord.'
'All this fuss over what?' said Aurum. 'A worthless old drudge. The creature sinned against the Law, against me. You must never forget, my Lord, that the Law must be obeyed.'
Carnelian regarded the Master's cowled head with a strange detachment. 'But not, it seems, when it comes to our travelling arrangements.'
Aurum's mask drew back. He raised his hand in a vague, unreadable but angry sign.
'You will be silent,' said Suth in a dangerous tone.
'I will, my Lord,' said Carnelian, 'for now.' His voice vibrated out from the frozen spindle upon which he was impaled. He let his body walk itself down the stairway. His mind was as clear as blue winter sky. What had happened there that day he determined never to forgive nor to forget.
The PURPLE FACTORY
EVOCATION: What is this path of Law?
RESPONSE: It is the tangling labyrinth.
It is the roiling sea.
It is the spiralling shell of the ammonite.
(part of the ritual of the Apotheosis)
Remotely, Carnelian felt the tugging on his cloak. It was a while before he reacted. He turned his head as if it were on a hinge. Tain's face was there, anxious-eyed, desperate for some answer. Carnelian stared, not understanding what his brother wanted. Then he understood. Tain could not have comprehended the exchange in Quya. Carnelian moved his head once from side to side. As he watched the tears well up in his brother's eyes he wondered why he himself had none.
'Masters.' The legionary knelt before them, head bowed. Behind him in formal prostration were ranged a number of black-skinned men.
Aurum gave the legionary leave to rise.
The man was tall for a marumaga, almost reaching
Aurum's sternum even though the Master was wearing the ranga. His oily black cuirass had the blue wave cypher of his legion embossed on its chest. Typically, he was honey-skinned. 'I would beg to know which of you, my Masters, will take possession of these auxiliaries?'
Aurum threw back his cowl to reveal his mask.
The legionary bowed and pushed his arms out, wrists together. As he straightened, he swept his arm round to indicate the prostrate men. 'I come to give you these, Master.'
Twenty Marula?'
'Not so many, Master.'
Their collars have been removed?'
'Yes, Master.'
Vennel pushed towards Aurum. 'Marula? And why have their collars been removed, my Lord?'
'We shall discuss this matter at some more appropriate time, Vermel.'
'How shall they be controlled without their collars? The creatures are notoriously feral.'
Aurum made a gesture of annoyance. The matter is well in hand. If my Lord will indulge us with a little patience, I think he will find that the water will soon run clear.' He turned back to the legionary who was looking uncertainly from one Master to the other. 'Have the creatures been given the treatment specified?'
They have, Master.' The legionary snapped his fingers. One of the shadow men rose up, black as wood, gleaming, finely made. He stepped forward with grace and overtopped the legionary by more than a head. Indigo designs marbled his skin. His forearms were turned white by bracelets apparendy of bone. His slitted yellow eyes seemed to be searching for a direction in which he might find escape. Carnelian breathed in his animal odour.
Vennel drew back as if he feared contamination.
The legionary barked a command. The black man gave him an insolent look but slowly lifted his arms above his head. The bracelets clinked as they slid down to his elbows. Carnelian saw the puffy patch just under his ribs. The legionary stabbed this with his finger. The black man threw back his head, grimacing, red mouth rimmed with sharpened teeth. His fists were slow to unclench. Looking at the wound, Carnelian was impressed the man m
ade no sound.
They've all been bitten in the same place. Even now the poison works in their flesh. Without the proper medicine they will die. They all know this and are by this knowledge bound into my Master's service more surely than if they still wore their service collars.'
'How long before the venom kills, them?' asked Aurum.
The legionary shrugged. That depends on each creature's strength, Master. Some will weaken in thirty days and be dead in forty. Others might survive longer.'
Distaste came up through Carnelian's numbness. He pitied them.
Aurum walked past the legionary to stand before that gathering of shadows and said, in Vulgate, 'Get up, slaves, so that you all may know those who are your Masters.'
The Marula rose, unfolding their knotted limbs. Some dared to show their teeth. Carnelian was struck by their beauty. They were almost as tall as the Masters and had something of their poise and pride. They could have been Chosen reflected in a mirror of obsidian.
'Filthy brutes,' muttered Vennel with his woman's voice.
Vennel argued with the other Masters the rest of the way down the stairway. Carnelian was remembering Crail and hardly listened. The gist of it seemed to be that Vennel felt that changes had been made in their plans without his approval. He could see no reason why they needed Marula or why their collars had been removed, however elaborate the measures taken for their control.
The stairway brought them eventually to a wide landing. From this, one last flight went down into a cave, cobbled like a courtyard, rib-vaulted, lit by lanterns hanging from chains. The ribs stood like tree trunks all around the walls. Between them, grilles flickered with the fires that burned behind and gates gave into dim rooms and corridors beyond. Carnelian saw all of this with a single glance, before his eyes were drawn to the creatures that were fidgeting over to one side: graceful two-legged saurians, far taller than the grooms who held them.
The Marula swarmed down the steps. Carnelian remained behind with the Masters, Tain and the new boy.
'Where are the palanquins?' Vennel asked, an edge to his voice.
Carnelian knew the saurians must be aquar. He watched them, enthralled by their liquid movements.
The Chosen - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 01 Page 17