The Standing Dead sdotc-2

by Ricardo Pinto

Carnelian looked at it carefully. 'It seems very much like I remember.'

  Akaisha grabbed hold of his arm. 'Did she tell you anything about us?'

  Carnelian saw the tears in the woman's eyes and desperately wanted to give her what she desired, but was too emotional to think clearly. Other women had crept up and were whispering to her. She let go of him.

  'You have to leave now,' she said gently. 'Leave with this other one of your kind. Please wait outside.'

  He nodded, then moved to Osidian's side and gingerly put a hand on his arm. Carnelian expected anger but Osidian seemed content to be led out. They had reached the curtain before Carnelian realized Fern was not following him. He turned and saw his friend looking very alone encircled by the Elders.

  With his eyes, Carnelian asked Fern why he was not leaving with him, but the only answer Fern could give him was an angry shake of the head.

  Pushing out past the curtain, Osidian let in a flood of light in which Carnelian could see nothing but Fern's back. He was reluctant to leave him with the Assembly and his accuser, Loskai, but knew he could do nothing to help him.

  As Carnelian stepped out from the house of bones, the glaring brilliance of the plain forced his eyes shut. His heart was racing, his mind dazzled by the certainty the Ochre really were Ebeny's people.

  THE HEARTH

  Fire is the heart of living.

  (Plainsman prorerb)

  'Where are you going?' asked Carnelian as he saw Osidian begin to move towards the steps that led down from the Ancestor House.

  Osidian half turned. 'Away from this filthy hovel.'

  'Fern's mother asked us to wait here.'

  Osidian's face distorted with rage. 'Since when do the Chosen obey savages?'

  Carnelian saw a guard coming up the steps, looking at them uncertainly, a spear ready in his hands. When Osidian swung round, the man flinched. The spear lowered to point at Osidian's chest in reaction to him advancing on the guard. Carnelian could see the man's narrow-eyed fear and the way he was adjusting and readjusting his grip on the spear.

  'Let me pass,' Osidian growled in Vulgate.

  'I must stop you descending,' the man said, in Ochre, and threw a nervous glance down to where one of his companions was mounting the steps to his aid.

  Osidian looked back at Carnelian. 'What did the creature say?'

  'He has been commanded to bar our descent.'

  'Has he indeed,' Osidian said, turning the menace of his face on the guards, both of whose spears were now questing for his throat.

  'Osidian!' cried Carnelian.

  Behind him the muttering of the Assembly faltered. Osidian seemed intent on throwing himself upon the guards. Carnelian saw their flint blades and how narrow were the steps, how high the fall. He lunged forward and took hold of Osidian's upper arms and pulled him back.

  'Release me,' Osidian hissed as he struggled.

  Carnelian held on, cursing.

  'Let me go,' bellowed Osidian.

  Voices were speaking behind him but Carnelian ignored them. Osidian pulled and almost broke free. For a moment Carnelian believed Osidian was going to be dashed upon the ground below.

  'Do you want to die?'

  Osidian sagged back into Carnelian, who embraced him. Osidian turned within the circle of his arms and looked at him with infinite sadness.

  'What is there left to live for?'

  Carnelian looked deep into his eyes. 'You still have me.'

  He became aware of the dark faces staring and felt naked under their gaze. He did not know what tongue he and Osidian had been speaking but was certain the two guards could see the way it was between them. Osidian looked as vulnerable as a child. Carnelian became aware Galewing was regarding them from the doorway of the Ancestor House.

  'He's still weak… illness… I'll look after him,' he said, in the Ochre tongue.

  The Elder ducked back behind the leather curtain. His hand still clasping Osidian's arm, Carnelian's attention returned to the guards. The smile he gave them caused them even more confusion. His gaze scaled to the heights.

  He looked for and found steps climbing from the porch to the summit of the Crag.

  'Can we go up there?' Carnelian asked the guards in Ochre.

  They looked startled, uncertain, so Carnelian made the decision for them. He coaxed Osidian towards the steps and gently urged him to climb. Careless of his own safety, he shadowed Osidian with his hands all the way up, terrified he might miss a step.

  The summit was windblown and scorching in the sun. Even with the uba covering most of his face, Carnelian had to squint. The place was more extensive than he had expected: an uneven floor of blocks and cracks and shadows. Three men were sitting on a promontory. One of them rose, staring at him. Soon all were staring.

  'Lookouts,' said Carnelian indicating them with a jutting of his chin. 'See the beacon ready to be lit.'

  Osidian was gazing out over the plain, turning slowly as if searching for something. Carnelian allowed his sight to soar. A vast sky fell into a single encircling, melting horizon. Trees danced in the heat. He saw the mirrors of lagoons, the ragged drifts of herds. The curves of the two outer ditches were betrayed by their borders of magnolias. At his feet, smoke was rising through chinks in the cedar canopy.

  Carnelian turned to Osidian. They are better organized than one might have expected of barbarians,' he said, hoping to encourage a more optimistic outlook on their situation.

  They merely ape the Chosen,' said Osidian. 'How so?'

  'Can you not see this place is marked out in the form of a wheelmap or a legionary camp?'

  Carnelian looked again and saw the three concentric ditches: the outer two each containing a swathe of land divided by the crooked spokes of smaller ditches into ferngardens; the third the grove of cedars on the koppie hill. If the first were the Outer Lands and the second the Guarded Land, then the hill and stone upon which he stood would represent Osrakum. The sight of these fortifications forced through his hope the bleak awareness that he and Osidian were Masters powerless among people who had every reason to hate them. His eyes fell on the ivory roof of the Ancestor House, in which their fate was being decided by the Elders. What would they do to Fern? Surely his mother, Akaisha, would be able to protect him. Carnelian recalled the look of need in her eyes. Tiny figures were moving through the inner ferngardens. Faint voices drifted up from the cedar grove; bright laughter and the smells of cooking. Had this really been Ebeny's childhood home? Even the possibility warmed his heart a little.

  He turned to Osidian. 'You know, Ebeny, my nurse? It seems certain to me she came from this tribe. Of all the koppies, that we should end up here…' Carnelian shook his head in wonder.

  Osidian was looking at him as if he were listening to an echo.

  Carnelian smiled remembering her. 'In my heart, she is my mother.'

  Osidian's lips curved into a sneer. 'When will you realize, Carnelian, these sensibilities are an affectation? You are Chosen. Your persistent desire to hide from what you are is a delusion I find increasingly repulsive.'

  Fear that Osidian might be right only made Carnelian despise his cold Master's face. 'Do you know, Imago Jaspar once said something very similar to me.'

  At the sound of that name, Osidian's face became as rigid as a mask, but Carnelian did not care. He delved inside himself for the truth of what he felt and was sure his love for Ebeny was real.

  'Besides,' he said, burning up in her defence, 'it is perhaps those very sensibilities that might secure sanctuary for us here.'

  Osidian's face sagged. 'Here? How can you expect me to live here?’

  Seeing the distress bleeding out of him, Carnelian could not sustain his anger. He remembered who Osidian had been. He remembered the pressure he had put on Osidian to go with him to the Yden one last time before the Wise made him God Emperor. Despair soaked through his confidence. He tried to rally.

  'Even if we care nothing for ourselves, there are others we cannot abandon.'

  '
Your precious half-caste, for example?'

  Carnelian was stunned. 'You mean Fern? That half-caste saved your life not once, but many times.'

  'Do you hope to blind me by throwing that in my face? Do not play me for a fool, Carnelian, I have seen the way you two look at each other.'

  Osidian's bitter words struck Carnelian like blows. 'I don't…' He shook his head. 'I really don't know what you are talking about.'

  Osidian shrugged, then went seeking a shadow in which he might find refuge from the sun.

  Carnelian was dozing in the shade when he heard a scuffle of feet approaching. Sitting up, he saw it was Fern with Akaisha, Harth and some other woman Elders. Carnelian nudged Osidian awake and rose to face them. He tried to read Fern's face. As their eyes meshed, Carnelian could not help considering what Osidian had said. Fern gave him a brave smile that was hiding some pain.

  Harth stepped forward. 'You understand my words?' Concerned for Fern, Carnelian gave her a nod even as he realized Osidian had not bothered to get up.

  'We have decided to postpone our decision as to what we are going to do with you. In the meantime, Mother Akaisha has offered to keep you in her hearth. You will be under her authority. The first time you disobey her you will both be put to death. What do you say?'

  Carnelian glanced at Fern, then at Akaisha, who was searching his face as if she were looking for a sign.

  From the sour look on Harth's face, Carnelian deduced it was Akaisha who had bought them a reprieve. 'Will the Tribe accept this arrangement?'

  Harth raised an eyebrow. The Elders have accepted it. We are the Tribe.'

  Halfway round the Crag, Akaisha took a rootstair down into the mottled shade of the cedar grove. Fern was giving her news of Ravan.

  'He should have appeared at the hearth before you went to the Assembly.'

  A shake of his mother's head made him scowl. She reached out to take his arm. 'Most likely he fears my grief.'

  She half turned her head. 'We're nearly there.'

  Carnelian nodded, but his attention was on a group of people under a nearby tree who had stopped everything to watch them pass.

  'It is considered impolite to stare into another's hearth,' said Akaisha and looked surprised when he apologized.

  Some children began following them, daring each other to run in close to the white giants. Osidian frowned, studiously ignoring their dash and screaming flight, until Akaisha turned on them. Her scolding sent them scuttling for cover. The gurgles of their furtive laughter made Carnelian smile and remember his own childhood.

  'We're here,' said Fern gloomily, stepping from the stair onto the hillside.

  A cedar spread its branches above them. Its trunk was the centre of the arc they walked, crossing the radiating ridges of its roots. Carnelian heard squeals of delight and saw some children chasing each other in and out of the shade. Ahead, Akaisha seemed to catch fire as she reached a space unroofed by the tree. Carnelian approached, narrowing his eyes against the dazzle. He stumbled over a root that ran across his path. He could smell the smoke but it was too bright to see the flames. As Carnelian's eyes adjusted, he saw a woman standing with two boys at the edge of the long, oval clearing.

  'Whin, these Standing Dead are to be our guests for a while,' Akaisha said.

  She turned to Carnelian. This is Whin, a daughter of my hearth who, next to me, is the nearest to the roots of our mother tree.'

  Whin was possibly forty, though her weathered skin looked older. She regarded the Standing Dead with a severe face. To avoid her eyes, Carnelian looked at the boys, who were also staring, their cheeks flushed from the heat of the fire. He smiled and they smiled back. Sharply, Whin told them to resume stirring the earthenware pots sitting upon the embers.

  Fern moved round the fire towards the woman, who lifted her hand. He touched his palm to hers and their fingers meshed.

  'May our roots grow together,' both said.

  Their hands fell.

  'You are to be punished, Fern?'

  Fern winced. 'For my sin against the Mother, I am to labour as a woman, Aunt Whin.' He sneaked a look at her face.

  'You deserve worse,' she said, but her eyes warmed a little.

  They grew cold when her gaze fell on the Standing Dead. 'Go, Fern, give our guests some bedding and let them choose hollows. I wish to speak to your mother alone.'

  Fern seemed to be waiting for her to look back at him.

  'Whin, has Ravan been here?' said Akaisha, anxiously.

  'Ravan, your mother wants to see you,' cried Whin.

  From the gloom gathering round the trunk of the cedar, Ravan emerged using his arm to shield his eyes from the glare. He came to a halt, looking at the ground.

  'Son.'

  Ravan glanced up at his mother and then saw the Standing Dead.

  They're to stay with us a while,' she said.

  Ravan's smile was dazzling as he gazed at Osidian. Carnelian noticed the momentary frown with which Akaisha observed this.

  'It warms my heart to see you again, my son.'

  Ravan disengaged his gaze from Osidian and looked at her.

  Akaisha opened her arms. 'Will you not kiss me?'

  Awkwardly, Ravan advanced into her embrace and planted a kiss on her cheek. Carnelian could see how unhappy they both were as they separated.

  Whin looked over. 'Are you still here, Fern?'

  Grunting something, Fern motioned for the Standing Dead to follow him. Ravan made to join them but Whin stopped him.

  'You stay with us, dear.'

  Uncomfortable, Carnelian followed Fern into the shadows, then up a hollow lying between two roots. Where the hollow narrowed into the trunk, it was packed with jars. Above their heads, ropes hugged packets and bundles to the bark. The shoulders of the branches were hung with coils of djada, with fernroot forming the rungs of ladders. Fern took hold of some loops of rope and pulled himself up into the tree. Carnelian watched him walk out along a branch and undo a bundle. He tugged two black blankets free, hesitated, tucked one back and pulled a russet one out instead.

  'Catch,' he cried, then let them drop. Carnelian caught both. Fern landed on the ground beside them. Carnelian crushed the blankets with his chin so that he could look over them.

  'Where do we sleep?'

  Fern did not answer. Squinting, he was watching his mother and his Aunt Whin talking as they cooked. Ravan was sulking beside them. Fern looked at Carnelian.

  'Eh?'

  'Sleep. Where do we sleep?'

  Fern looked puzzled and then brought Carnelian's face into focus. He took them round to the uphill side of the tree where the ends of the branches hung nearer to the ground. Fern swung his hand in an arc. Take whichever of the empty hollows you want.'

  Carnelian watched him walk off towards the women. The Plainsman glanced back. 'Don't leave the shade of our mother tree.'

  Carnelian nodded and turned to Osidian. 'What do you make of this?' he asked, in Quya.

  Saying nothing, Osidian walked off up the slope. Hugging the blankets, Carnelian followed him. The roots faceting the ground defined hollows; in many of these blankets and other bundles were neatly stowed. Of the empty hollows, most were too short for a Master to He in. Higher up, they found a hollow large enough to accommodate them both.

  Carnelian looked at Osidian. 'Will this do?'

  Osidian gazed round with distaste. Their animal eyes will be on us wherever we go.'

  Carnelian spotted the faces looking at them from the shade of the nearest tree. Turning slowly, he saw there were others staring. He thrust the black blanket onto Osidian and then pushed his nose into the russet one. He was disappointed. However much the blanket might look like one of Ebeny's, it did not have her smell. He shook the blanket open and let it settle on the cedar needle floor, then laid himself down along the hollow with his head up-slope. The perfume of the needles rose around him.

  'It's surprisingly comfortable,' he said.

  Morose, Osidian looked down at him. Behind his head th
e needle-brush canopy was aflicker with blue specks of sky. Carnelian could not bear another argument.

  They'll soon tire of staring.'

  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply the warm, resinous air.

  The air had cooled when Carnelian was woken by voices. He sat up in the hollow. Down the slope, among the deepening shadows, people were coming up the rootstair. Their trudging and the way many let their heads hang betrayed their weariness. For a moment Carnelian felt like lying back before they should see him, but he stayed where he was, knowing he would have to face them some time. A woman glancing up spotted him and was transfixed. Asked why she had stopped, she replied by pointing up at Carnelian and her companions found him with their stares. He imagined how ghostly and terrifying he must appear to them.

  The discovery was passed by cries out through the Grove and soon Carnelian was having to endure stares from other directions. He tried a smile, but this only seemed to intensify their horror. Elders among the hearths must have begun spreading the news of the decision they had made, for Carnelian could see and hear the reactions of disbelief. Reluctantly the Ochre tore themselves from their staring and continued up the hill to their hearths.

  'What are you doing?' asked Osidian lying at his side. Carnelian looked down. For a moment Osidian seemed as strange a creature to Carnelian as he himself must appear to the Ochre. He shook himself free of the illusion.

  'Nothing. Well, just watching the people returning for the night. We must prepare ourselves to meet Fern's kin.'

  Frowning, Osidian closed his eyes. Carnelian fought the desire to shake him. He forced himself to look out again. A group of women and men were approaching up the rootstair, some walking hand in hand, others carrying infants. Shrieking with excitement, the children that had been playing near the hearth ran down to them. Carnelian watched with a kind of envy their joyous meeting. A man caught a little girl and threw her up with a whoop and, catching her, hugged her as she squealed with delight. He slung her over his shoulder and continued climbing. A woman bent to embrace a boy, kissing him, nodding as he began to pour out his day for her. Several of the children were already pointing up at the strange white giant. Carnelian saw Akaisha approaching the group. The women handed the children to their men and gathered round her. Carnelian could hear the mutter of their talk and felt the sharp glances they cast up at him. Most of the men were frowning. Carnelian rose to his feet, wondering if he should go down and brave them himself.