‘Excellent.’
Bewildered, Carnelian and Ravan followed Osidian back to the relative safety of the drag-cradles.
‘What did he say?’ Osidian asked Carnelian, all the while regarding Loskai with a look of amusement.
‘Something along the lines of, you must be mad.’
‘Ask him if he’s afraid.’
Carnelian did, somewhat reluctantly.
‘There’s a difference between wanting to stay alive and being afraid,’ said Loskai.
At that moment Crowrane approached demanding to know from his son what was going on. As Loskai explained, his father frowned, all the time keeping his eyes on Osidian.
‘Well, I’m going to get myself an egg and anyone else who isn’t afraid can come with me,’ said Osidian in Vulgate to the younger men who were gathering round.
Osidian looked at Ravan. ‘You at least aren’t afraid to come with me, or are you, son of Stormrane?’
‘I’ll go … I’ll go with you,’ the youth answered, his face shiny with sweat. He took it upon himself to translate the Master’s words for those who had no Vulgate. Krow, among others, moved to stand with Ravan at Osidian’s side. The rest looked for guidance to Crowrane, who was surveying the roost as if he were calculating the odds. He brought the men of his hunt into focus.
‘Shall we allow one of the Standing Dead to slur our manhood?’
The older among them shook their heads slowly, regarding the Elder in puzzlement. The youngsters declared their bravery noisily. Their commotion brought Galewing, accompanied by several of his hunt.
He cowed them into silence with a glare. ‘Are you lot trying to get us trampled?’
Crowrane encouraged the Elder to move away with him. Carnelian could see Crowrane explaining. When Galewing grew angry, Crowrane calmed him. Carnelian did not like the glances they gave him as they talked and approached Osidian.
‘You must not do this,’ he said in Quya.
‘It is no longer possible to turn back,’ Osidian replied.
Carnelian glanced off to where the Elders were still in discussion. ‘You are putting us in their trap.’
‘On the contrary, I am turning their trap against them.’ He smiled, fire in his eyes. ‘Will you join me?’
Crowrane returned. ‘Father Galewing will make sure the water gets back safely to the Koppie. Those of you who wish should return with him.’
No one moved.
‘Well, then, let’s go and get ourselves some eggs.’
Grinning, excited, the youngsters ran for their aquar. Crowrane followed them, frowning. At his side, Loskai was giving him an anxious look.
Carnelian became aware Osidian was still waiting for an answer. Carnelian’s unease turned to irritation.
‘Do I have any choice?’
As Osidian cantered into the lagoon, flamingos rose like a sudden dawn. Carnelian was mesmerized by their flashing wingbeats. The cloud cleared to reveal dazzling water stretching to the island upon which many of the bellowers were turning to watch them.
‘What now, Master?’ Loskai cried, hanging back with his father.
Osidian ignored the Plainsman. He swung his arm round, his hand tracing a bright arc in the air. At this signal, Ravan, to whom Carnelian had earlier seen Osidian giving instructions, waded his aquar off into the deeper water on their right leading some of the youngsters. Carnelian watched them curve round towards the shore of the island, wondering that they were so readily prepared to obey Osidian. As Ravan and his party drew nearer to the bellowers they rose up alarmed, rending the air with a trumpeting that set aquar plumes and Carnelian’s heart to fluttering. The brazen cries rose and fell in angry fanfares as more and more of the bellowers came down to the water’s edge. The riders continued wading parallel to the shore until they moved out of sight, drawing the bellowers away.
Without a backward glance, Osidian sent his aquar forward at a lope towards the island. Carnelian could feel the general hesitation and sent his aquar after Osidian, hoping to encourage others to follow. Even before he had caught up with Osidian, Carnelian could hear the water behind him being churned to foam by the feet of many aquar. Carnelian did not dare look to either side, lest he should break the spell that was drawing them.
At its deepest, the water came up to the high ankle of Osidian’s aquar. Soon they were coming up out of it, riding along a ridge that swelled up to form the island. A few bellowers trumpeting madly defended the passage to the roost.
Osidian swung round and addressed Crowrane’s hunt. ‘Throw as quickly as you can.’
Leaning back with a weapon Ravan must have given him, Osidian hurled it whistling through the air. Soon others were being thrown from all around Carnelian. For a moment, Carnelian imagined Osidian might be their target, but the volley was falling among the saurians. Though the javelins scratched harmlessly off their hides, the bellowers dropped forward on to all fours and brought their narrow flaring crests down in front of them like shields. All the time they kept up a furious, deafening cacophony and lashed their tails. Spotting a gap in their line, Osidian crashed through. Carnelian swore under his breath, gritted his teeth and followed him. A bellower rose, falling back so heavily on to its haunches that the earth shook. Carnelian’s aquar veered wildly and it was all he could do to keep her running. He rode into the shadow of the towering monster, into its musky stench. He felt it begin to avalanche towards him and threw himself forward even as it punched the ground with an impact that shuddered up through his chair and whiplashed his head against his knees. Then he was through and hurtling through a landscape of cratered mud.
Osidian’s aquar slid and almost lost its footing as he forced it to a halt with his heels. Carnelian’s veered just in time to avoid a collision. He swung in the saddle-chair for a moment, his heart pounding, his forehead aching from the impact with his knees. Then he became aware no one had followed them.
To one side, more bellowers were surging up out of the water lifting their long muzzles into the breeze. Others were mobbing the rookery’s further shore, drowning the warcries of Ravan’s diversionary force with their screeching.
Seeing Osidian staring back the way they had come, Carnelian incandesced with rage. ‘Where’s your God now? Are you happy?’
The line of saurians they had broken through was fragmenting as the creatures saw the tiny intruders among their nests. Suddenly, another volley of javelins fell among them and screeching, they turned aside. Riders came pouring up through the gaps, Krow at their head.
‘Crowrane commanded us to retreat!’
Osidian knelt his aquar and vaulted out on to the mud.
Stunned, Carnelian was hardly aware of dismounting. Nests lay all around; craters gouged into the mud. Plainsmen were descending on every side. Osidian led some of them to face the trumpeting with their bull-roarers and javelins. Carnelian saw a volley glancing off a heaving wall of mottled hide and then saw the men around him gaping.
‘Eggs,’ he cried, overcoming his anger, remembering why they were there. He ran to the nearest nest and reached over its curving embankment. He burrowed his fingers into the warm rot of vegetation and touched a smooth hard shape. Quickly he scooped the stuff off to reveal a spiral of long narrow white eggs. He lifted one out. It slid in his green-slimed arms. It was three spans long and as heavy as if it were made of stone. He cradled it as he ran over to his saddle-chair.
‘What do we do?’ screamed Krow clutching an egg.
Carnelian looked over to where Osidian and some others had remounted. He could see they were running out of javelins. They were riding at the bellowers, bellowing, waving their arms. The creatures fell back, letting out a fearsome fanfare of outrage.
Carnelian saw Krow’s panic-stricken face among others. ‘Line some saddle-chairs with blankets to carry the eggs. The rest of us’ll have to get out of here two to an aquar.’
They hurried to obey him. He helped them quickly ferry as many of the eggs as he could into the chairs separating each layer with the fold of a b
lanket.
Carnelian was not the only one to notice a change in the tone of the bellower calls. He whisked round. What he saw made him drop the egg he carried so that it smashed its yolk and foetus down his legs and feet. A deeper baying like warhorns. Fluted crests longer and more elaborate than the ones he had seen were visible above the bellowers.
Krow went white. ‘The mothers are returning.’
A scramble began into empty saddle-chairs or clinging on to cross-poles.
A blast of screeches rolled over them as the bellower mothers saw the despoiled nests. Carnelian found himself gaping at their charge and Osidian and the others fleeing towards him.
‘Master!’ shrieked a voice.
The earth quaked as the bellowers lumbered closer. Carnelian saw Osidian’s aquar, readied himself and caught hold of its cross-pole as it hurtled past. The impact threatened to tear his arms from their sockets, but he managed to hang on. He was half running: half carried. His weight was unbalancing Osidian’s aquar. Its pistoning leg buffeted him. Its clawed foot would shred him if he were to swing in its path. He kicked his way through a nest before he pulled his legs up. He held on desperately as they careened down the slope towards the water. His legs trailed through it, the drag leeching the last strength from his arms. He squeezed his eyes closed against the pain. His hands unhooked and he smashed into the lagoon. He was drowning. His feet found the bottom and he came up coughing water, gulping for air, to see a wall of bellowers crashing towards him. He covered his head with his arms, waiting to be crushed. The wave the bellowers were driving before them washed him off his feet but he managed to regain his balance. He opened his eyes as something brushed past him. Osidian on his aquar screaming Quyan curses at the oncoming saurians. Carnelian gaped with wonder as the creatures dropped ponderously on to all fours. Their stench was overpowering. Their cries battered his ears. Then, miraculously, they began to turn away.
He remained frozen, staring until the water stopped eddying around his legs, until the flamingos had settled back down to the lagoon.
When Carnelian became undazed, the first thing he saw was the relief in Osidian’s face. They gazed at each other, for a moment the lovers they had once been. Carnelian became aware of Ravan’s excited voice. ‘Did you see the way the bellowers obeyed the Master? Did you?’
Loskai was scowling. ‘They were already pulling back before he rode at them.’
‘What do we do now?’ someone asked.
Crowrane seemed deaf, blind and it was to Osidian that faces were turned in awe.
The Master had them repack the eggs more carefully because some had been broken in their flight.
‘Wash it all out,’ barked Crowrane. ‘We don’t want the smell attracting raveners.’
Rage distorted his face as people, hesitating, glanced over at Osidian for instruction. Crowrane pointed out several of them.
‘You and you … yes, you, Twostone, get water, now.’
Sullenly, Krow and the others did as they were told and soon came waddling back with bloated waterskins. Carnelian watched one Plainsman wash the mess out from his saddle-chair. The foetus the egg had cradled dropped its hook on to the ground. The man had not noticed the tiny creature lying there but Ravan had and moved to retrieve it. But before he reached it, Osidian, oblivious, trampled it into the mud.
Because of the saddle-chairs packed with eggs, the hunt had to return at walking pace. Krow offered Carnelian his aquar but he declined. Carnelian remembered it was Krow who had been the first to defy Crowrane.
‘We owe you our lives.’
The youth sunk his head. ‘I owe the Master much.’
‘Father Crowrane and his son will not quickly forgive you.’
Krow shrugged.
‘Why have you ended up in their hunt?’
Krow looked up. ‘Because their hearth took me in.’
The youth’s eyes betrayed something of the unhappy conditions in which he had to live. ‘They know I am your friend.’
Carnelian became aware Loskai was observing them. He realized now it was Krow who was in danger.
Unable to ride, the hunt was in peril from raveners. The hunters kept fear at bay by describing to each other the Tribe’s delight when they received the precious cargo the hunt were bringing home.
Galewing appeared with his men, saying that they had come to offer any help that might be needed. He told them the Tribe knew of their expedition and were worried for their safety. The amazement the Elder and his hunt showed over their haul of eggs lifted spirits. Still, many would be unable to flee a ravener attack and so the first sight of the Koppie rising out from the plain was greeted with audible sighs of relief. The closer it came, the wider grew the smiles anticipating a triumphant return.
Grim-faced, a large portion of the Tribe were waiting for them across the earthbridge. Carnelian saw among them Harth, Ginkga and others of the Elders. He was disappointed when he could not see Akaisha. He had hoped she would be there with Poppy.
The hunters rode over into the ferngarden and dismounted.
Hands on hips, Harth confronted her husband. ‘What possessed you?’
Crowrane made a face, painfully aware of the people watching. His wife gave a snort of disgust and, seeking out her son among the press, withered him with her gaze.
Ginkga gazed out over the hunters. Where her eyes looked, their heads fell in shame. ‘Have you any idea how much worry you brought your hearths?’
‘But no one was hurt, my mother and –’ Ravan began, before the Elder silenced him with a look.
‘If we hadn’t begged the Mother to shield you, who knows how many would’ve been killed?’
She stabbed a finger at Osidian and then Carnelian. ‘They put you up to it, didn’t they?’
‘But it worked out exactly as the Master said it would,’ cried Ravan, red-faced.
He reached over into a saddle-chair and lifted out an egg. Walking into the crowd, he handed it to a woman who received it like a baby. Ravan grinned as he heard the excitement rippling out through the crowd.
‘There may be as many as two for each hearth,’ he announced.
The crowd came alive as they began clamouring for theirs. The hunters beamed as they began unpacking and handing out the treasure they had brought back for their people. Bright with pride, Krow joined in. Carnelian did not feel he should, though he was fired by the general elation. Crowrane stood eyes downcast behind his wife, so that it was Galewing who oversaw the distribution.
‘Losing so many young will hurt the bellowers,’ cried Ginkga over the commotion. ‘You don’t understand what you’ve done.’
Carnelian was sobered by the woman’s dismay. The rest of her cries were drowned out by the sounds of celebration.
Ravan basked in the approval of his hearthkin as he told for the second time the tale of the expedition against the bellowers. Osidian strode heroic through that tale and as the Plainsmen savoured the delicacies that had been made with the eggs, eyes kept flicking to the Master, sitting as he always did watching something only he could see in the dancing of the flames.
Not Whin, not even Akaisha were falling under the spell of Ravan’s story. They witnessed his swagger, his naked adoration of the Master, with unhappy eyes. Earlier, returning red-stained from the earthworks, they had uncurled the foetuses from the two eggs the hearth had been given and went to bury them among the roots of their mother tree.
As Carnelian watched Ravan, he fondled Poppy’s head as she sat against his knee. He glanced at Fern. When he had returned to find Carnelian alive he had run to him and, taking hold of his arms, had regarded him with undisguised delight. This had made Sil unhappy even though she had kissed Carnelian as she did the others, glad to see them safely returned. Aware of her reaction, confused by Fern’s intensity, Carnelian had disengaged from him. When Fern became aware of Sil, the three of them had been left isolated, prey to confused emotions.
A movement at the edge of Carnelian’s vision drew his gaze down to Osidi
an’s pale hand signing: It seems we are heroes.
Carnelian turned to look at him.
Use handspeech.
Carnelian obliged him. The boy speaks only of you.
Osidian made a sign connoting amusement, then: This popularity will, I judge, keep our lives safe outside the ditches.
I intend to return to work with – Carnelian indicated Fern.
No. I need you with me.
From petty jealousy, you endangered our lives and many others.
Osidian made a contemptuous gesture of dismissal. I made a bid for power.
You make my decision firmer. I will take no further part in your machinations.
Osidian’s hand fell still. Then, slowly, he turned to watch Ravan who was enacting the arrival of the bellower mothers. Without turning back, his hand began to shape signs again. He will not now leave my side.
Carnelian frowned, staring at the pale hand. The fingers curled.
The outer world is perilous.
Carnelian grew inflamed and pulled at Osidian’s shoulder to make him look at him. ‘Do you stoop, my Lord, like Jaspar did with my brother, to use threats against another as a means of controlling me?’
Carnelian’s Quya made Ravan fall silent. The whole hearth were staring at the Standing Dead.
Osidian’s eyes burned furiously. ‘You should remember why we have ended up here, Carnelian.’
Carnelian was painfully aware of the people round about.
Osidian smiled at Ravan, who smiled back. ‘Do not imagine when the time comes I will have mercy on the boy.’
IRON SPEAR
Husband, you are the sky
the angry one
the winged sower of rain
come, quench my thirst.
(from a marriage ritual of the Plainsmen)
THE GROVE WAS WAKING WHEN CARNELIAN PICKED HIS WAY AMONG THE sleeping hollows towards Fern and Sil’s. He knew where it lay even though he had never been there. It was Sil who first noticed him approaching and raised her husband. Little Leaf began to cry and Sil put her to a breast to quieten her.
Carnelian felt he was intruding. ‘Can I speak to you, Fern?’
The Standing Dead (The Stone Dance Of The Chameleon) Page 28