'She knew,' said Carnelian, holding back tears. 'She knew and yet she said nothing. I made her put the Seal in the Lady's hands.'
'She was always brave.'
Carnelian felt a tear dribble down his face. 'She asked me to tell you that she had always loved you. I had forgotten.'
They stood for a long while sharing their misery. It occurred to Carnelian that it was not the news of Fey's death that had made his father cry. What then? The election. 'You believe the election lost,' he said at last.
His father rubbed his forehead. 'Yes.'
'Jaspar has taken with him many votes?'
His father's flapping hands were like the last leaves on a winter twig. 'If it were only that. Such a breach in our wall of votes we could hope to repair, but he also took with him much knowledge of how that wall was built. We are defenceless.'
'Surely you can do something.'
'Aurum has thrown his last daughter in to plug the breach, but the whole wall is fatally compromised.'
Carnelian turned to ice, remembering the threat Molochite had made to his father. He gritted his teeth. 'Rebuild it then.'
His father glared at him. 'Just like that. We have two days to build a second wall when it took almost a month of weary labour to build the first.'
'Surely fear of Ykoriana can be exploited. Will the Great not fear Jaspar triumphant more than you and Aurum? They have before their eyes evidence of how little he can be trusted.'
His father frowned.
‘I assume that the last wall was built carefully, with an attempt to minimize the concessions to the Great?' His father nodded.
'What will iron or high-blood brides matter to Nephron if his brother wins the Masks? Let him spend all the wealth of the House of the Masks if needs be to throw up another wall.'
Carnelian closed his mouth and saw that his father was thinking. He began shaking his head. 'It could not be done only with audiences. I would have to also go into the nave. I cannot be in two places at once.'
‘Send Aurum out into the nave while you remain in the Sun in Splendour.'
His father shook his head. 'Aurum has to be at my side to witness the agreements.'
'Could no other Lord do that?'
There is none that we could trust. Whoever we chose would be unable to resist the incentives that Ykoriana could throw at him. We would suffer another betrayal.'
'Could I do it?'
His father narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak. He shook his head once. They might not accept a witness from my own House.'
'Do you put your own seal on the agreements?'
'I use Nephron's.'
'With the mark of my blood-ring beside it, the two would not be of the same House.' His father was still frowning. 'What would we have to lose?'
Suth paced away. He stopped and ran his fingers round a pomegranate graven into the wall. He turned, grimly smiling. 'Go and rest, Carnelian. Come with the dawn to attend me in the Sun in Splendour.'
A knocking woke Carnelian. Before he was fully awake, Tain had gone to the door. The door opened, there was a mutter of talk, the door closed. Tain came up to him.
'One of the half-black men. He says someone's come to see you and it's very urgent.'
Tain helped him dress and bound on his mask. Carnelian opened the door and looked out.
One of the cohort commanders was there. 'Master, I waited to disturb you till the time you asked me to wake you.'
'What is it?' asked Carnelian.
'A Master from your House needing to see you urgently.' 'Who is he?'
The commander shrugged. 'He came alone.'
'Please bring him to me.' Carnelian closed the door. He asked Tain to help him put on his court robe. Standing on the ranga he watched his brother struggle with the straps and screws. Every time Carnelian tried for intimacy, Tain responded like a slave. Carnelian was kneeling inside his court robe when there was another knocking on the door. It opened when he gave leave and a massive shape slid in. Its gold face looked down at Tain.
Though he does not wear our cypher, my Lord, he is one of ours.'
The Master spent some moments gazing down disdainfully at Tain before he reached up two white hands to remove his mask.
'My Lord Opalid, what a pleasure it is to see you. You have come without your father?' 'I have come alone, my Lord.'
Carnelian raised his eyebrows as the Master fell into silence. 'Well?'
Opalid frowned. 'I was waiting for your minion to finish here so that we might talk alone.'
'My "minion" is more kin to me than you, my Lord, so please tell me what you came to say.'
Opalid looked horrified and stared at Tain as if he were trying to blast him with his eyes. Tain seemed oblivious as he stood on a stool to do up Carnelian's robe.
'Very well,' Opalid said. 'I come, my Lord, on a delicate matter.'
'Indeed?'
'I come to offer your lineage my fealty.'
'It is welcome, my Lord, but this hardly seems to me to constitute an urgent matter.'
Opalid produced some pantomime gestures of distress. 'I came to tell you that my father has betrayed you.'
'Go on.'
'He has pledged his vote to Molochite.'
'Publicly?' Carnelian said, rising, lifting the robe. There was a cry behind him. He had forgotten his brother. He sank down again, saying over his shoulder, 'Sorry, Tain.'
Opalid did not hide his distaste too well. 'How many of your lineage have defected?' Opalid made a shrugging gesture with his hand. 'And you will, I suppose, know nothing about the intentions of the third lineage?' 'Nothing, my Lord.'
Carnelian regarded him silently until the Master could not bear his scrutiny longer, and looked away. 'I will convey to my father your words of loyalty, my Lord.'
Carnelian dismissed the Master and made sure he was escorted out of the Sunhold. Then he and Tain hurried through what remained of the dressing. He did not wish to be late for his meeting with his father.
The Ichorians let Carnelian into the Sun in Splendour. The hall was filled with wind, and dark save for some braziers set in a circle round the dais. In their violent flickering, Carnelian saw two ammonites beside a beadcord chair. Of his father there was no sign.
Carnelian walked towards the ammonites, who knelt as they saw him approaching. 'He-who-goes-before?'
Both creatures pointed off into a corner where Carnelian saw a pale rectangle open in the wall. As he walked towards it the wind beat against him. He reached the doorway and saw that it gave onto a narrow promontory jutting out into the sky. At its tip a glimmering figure was bracing itself upon a post of brass. A cordon of these ran all the way back to where Carnelian stood.
He reached out for the first post and used it to pull himself forward a single step. The wind buffeted him mercilessly. Pulling himself from one to the other he at last managed to reach the figure.
It turned a little and lifted its hand making the signs, My son.
The wind flowed over them. They were like two rocks in a torrent. His father's hand formed, Behold, and then the sign dissolved into pointing. Carnelian saw the indigo vastness of the crater laid out below. They seemed to be standing on the prow of a ship sailing into a dark sea. He could make out the curve of the Sacred Wall, the shore of the Isle, the closed circle of the Plain of Thrones twinkling like a puddle of stars.
Carnelian lifted his hand into his father's view and made the sign, Tributaries?
For answer his father pointed to the Plain of Thrones and then slid his finger out and slowly round. Carnelian saw that it was tracing out a gossamer thread that sparkled like a spider's thread with dew. His father's hand made the signs, They come in, night and day, and then continued round until the thread disappeared into the black gullet of the Valley of the Gate.
The Rains are near and soon, his father's hand pointed back at the Plain of Thrones, we shall go down there for Apotheosis and Rebirth.
Carnelian sieved the wind through his fingers as he pre
pared himself to give his news. He leaned on the wind to allow him to lift both his hands. Father. Suth looked at the hand. Opalid, Spinel’s son, has just been to tell me that his father has gone over to Ykoriana.
Carnelian watched his father's hands stiffen then sign, Why did he come to tell you this?
I suspect his father sent him to curry favour with us in case the election should go our way.
Suth made a smile with his hand. A childlike stratagem.
Spinel must be very certain of Ykoriana’s victory or else their roles would be reversed.
Fear of my wrath must play its part in his calculations. When you took the Seal from him you left him without means to remove the evidence of his usurpations in the coomb.
How will Ykoriana victorious make any—? Carnelian stopped to think. Could she make him Ruling Lord?
With enough blood and iron everything is possible. The new God Emperor will have much of both.
We are doomed then.
Suth looked at his son. Hold on to your faith, it has become my strength.
But surely if this defection becomes public many others will follow Spinel's lead?
It will become public, that is why Ykoriana has wooed him.
Will that not be disastrous for us?
Not necessarily. If other subsidiary lineages are encouraged to revolt against their Ruling Lords her strategy might well rebound on her since—
Since all Ruling Lords would be threatened and should then be forced to oppose her for their own preservation. Carnelian could see his father nodding and then looking off to where the sky was growing pale.
Suth lifted his hand again, We must move inside and begin our work of masonry.
The ammonite took Carnelian's blood-ring and pressed it into the clay. When he pulled it out Carnelian could see the bead now bore a circle of his name glyphs and the numbers of his taint. The bead the ammonite had made from Nephron's jade seal was the first, Carnelian's was now threaded onto the cord to be the second.
The first two stones in our wall,' his father said.
Carnelian looked up to his father, a golden obelisk on the dais. He looked back and saw the two ammonites sitting beside each other, each with his trays of beads. In front of them a third was sitting with his back to them. All three wore eyeless silver masks.
Carnelian walked round the dais to take his place as witness at his father's right hand. At his feet facing him was a fourth ammonite. Between them was a low table upon which there was an ink sponge and beside it Carnelian's blood-ring. In front of his father a fifth ammonite sat with a table, ink and Nephron's seal. A little further away knelt a sixth. Carnelian could only wonder what his function might be.
His father turned to him. 'Are you ready, Carnelian?'
Carnelian knelt on his ranga. 'As I can be, my Lord.'
The first Masters that were let in were from one of the highest Houses of the Great. Three of them, filled with pride, come to tell He-who-goes-before that they would support him without condition. More followed, with their heraldry wrought in gems upon their smouldering robes.
These are the towers of our new wall,' his father said as they waited for more.
For those Houses that were rich enough already in blood and iron, flesh and treasure soon ran out. It was then that the negotiations began in earnest. Some Houses wanted gifts, blocks of white jade from the eastern mountains, black pearls that had been found in the sea. Sometimes it would be a piece of porcelain a thousand years old or a half-dozen chrysalises containing butterflies recendy discovered, whose wings spanned a shield but would crumple at the merest touch of breath. Suth as Nephron's proxy promised these rarities from the House of the Masks' fabled treasury. Precisely worded, an agreement would be dictated to the two ammonites with the bead trays who would each quickly thread it onto a silver cord. The two cords would then be put, one into each hand of the ammonite who sat before them. Holding his arms out, this ammonite would quickly pass them through his fingers, presumably to determine they were identical. One cord he would then hand back to be added to the lengthening record of which the clay beads were the beginning. The other would be threaded through a hole in the floor. The Masters would wait, making conversation about the Rains, their hopes for beauty among the children in the flesh tithe, their anticipation of pleasure and distraction in the new season's masques. A piece of rolled parchment would emerge from the floor onto which the beadcord had been transcribed. Suth would read this before passing it to his son. Carnelian would check the glyphs, then return the parchment to his father. It would be rolled out over the table at his father's feet where Nephron's seal would be appended. The seal of Carnelian's own blood-ring would be added next and the document taken by the sixth ammonite for the perusal of the Masters. The negotiation complete, they would exchange formulaic greetings and the Lords would leave and allow the next party to replace them.
The negotiations became ever more intense as the rank of the Houses fell. In the case of a stipulated number of children, the Imperial Power ceded its rights to choose from the flesh tithe first or gave the child freely without exchange. Portions of the imperial revenue from the cities were assigned to the petitioning Houses for fixed periods of years, or a House would gamble, receiving it only for the duration of the next reign. Eyes were covenanted, the iron coins that were equivalent to ichorous blood. Suth confided in Carnelian that they did not have the time to make the complex arrangements in which the House of the Masks ceded rights to a House on the condition that that House should in turn cede rights to other Houses. The sky was already darkening when they began to barter imperial blood. Brides both living and yet to be born were promised from the imperial forbidden house. In some cases the marriage was restricted to a fixed period, in others it would remain in force until a child was produced.
Carnelian had hardly the strength to hold his head up when his father whispered that the doors were closed until the morrow. He managed to rise, and, with care, manoeuvred his father to his chambers.
'It was good,' his father croaked. 'We have built much today. Tomorrow we will try to finish it.'
They parted and Carnelian dragged himself back to his chamber. Tain brought him some food and put him to bed. His brother said nothing and Carnelian had no energy to find words himself.
The following morning, election's eve, Carnelian came into the Sun in Splendour to find his father with Aurum. He watched them for a while. They were alone, speaking with their hands, the slopes of their robes gleaming only on the side that faced the single brazier. Carnelian was reminded of that time long ago on the baran when he had seen them talking about Ykoriana. As he walked towards them, they turned.
'My Lord Carnelian,' said Aurum, inclining his crowned head. The old Master regarded him for a while, making him feel uncomfortable. 'It seems that I am in your debt, my Lord,' he said grudgingly.
'It is nothing, Lord Aurum.'
Aurum smiled coldly. 'A nothing on which the future of both our Houses depends.'
Suth distracted them with his hand. He looked at his son. The Ruling Lord has come to tell me that there are rumours of more defections.'
'Among the subsidiary lineages?' Carnelian asked.
'Ykoriana builds upon the betrayer within your own House,' said Aurum. There was a tone of accusation in his voice.
'My son and I expected this,' said Suth. 'I think this strategy she has chosen could very well be her undoing.' Aurum rose as he straightened his ranga. 'I will see what I can do.' He bowed to each of them in turn. 'My Lords.' He turned and began the journey to the doors.
I dislike being allied to that Lord, Carnelian signed with his hand.
No more than do I, his father replied. But a chameleon will show wisdom by making common cause with a raven when both are being harried by an eagle.
Carnelian nodded and took his place at his father's right hand. Suth lifted and let fall one of his court staves and immediately the hole opened up in the floor before his dais and began to disgorge its ammon
ites. Before it closed again, Carnelian saw a flicker of light coming up. It reminded him. He looked over to where, concealed by pillars, the trapdoor lay that led down into the ancient halls, the library and Osidian.
The day progressed very much as had the previous one. Later on, Ruling Lords arrived who admitted that they had agreed to vote for Molochite but were uneasy about the promises Ykoriana was making to the lower lineages. Their own third lineage made an appearance. As they offered him their loyalty, Suth remained aloof and only said that they had taken their time. Still, their votes added some more beads to the tally cord.
The agreements passed through Carnelian's hands in a constant waft of parchment. In every case he endeavoured to make sure that the glyphs had caught the words his father spoke. He grew weary, then exhausted, until the glyphs began to swim before his eyes. Still they went on and he marvelled at the reserves of strength the drugs gave his father. Night fell and still they carried on. More and more his father was husbanding his words. When he spoke, it was with visible effort.
The moon had risen before the flood of Masters became a stream and then a trickle. Then there was a heavy pattern of gongings on the door. 'Is that it?' Carnelian asked.
His father let out a long, long sigh. 'Yes. I must rest... a while.' Carnelian watched his father sag and waited, glad beyond measure that the election was almost upon them. Win or lose, he wanted to take his father home.
Suth roused himself and turned a little to catch Carnelian in his eye. 'Mask yourself.' Carnelian did so and watched with what painful care his father lifted his own mask to his face before he said, 'Ammonites, see again.'
Before him and at his side, all the ammonites removed their masks. Their faces were like parchment written all over with numbers. More appeared out from the hole before the dais. His father sent one off to fetch Ichorians. Carnelian watched the others follow their fellow's movements with fearful eyes. One brought the beadcord of the agreements wound onto a reel and placed it at his father's feet, while another put a length of beadcord in his hands. Carnelian could see with what violence the man's hand trembled and became alarmed. Fanciful thoughts scrambled through his mind, of murderous plots against his father. He rose on his ranga and stood, indecisive. His father could clearly see their fear, they were just in front of him, and yet he made no reaction.
The Chosen - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 01 Page 55