'Nevertheless, Vennel is of blood-rank two?'
Just, Suth's hand signed with a flick of contempt. 'He has the two zeros but a nineteen in the third. His blood is more than five times less pure than mine; ten times less pure than yours.'
'I like him as little as Aurum, but cousin Jaspar seems amiable enough.'
Suth clamped Carnelian's shoulders with his hands. 'If you think that, then he is to you a greater danger than the others. All who are Chosen are dangerous. In the Three Lands there are no beings so terrible as are we. Few of us know mercy, fewer still compassion. Inevitably, the greatest among us are the most rapacious. This is a necessity forced on some by the contest of the blood trade, on others by their nature. Constantly we hunt each other. Our appetite for power cannot be sated. We would eat the world though the gluttony destroy us.'
Suth stopped. He could see that he had frightened the boy already more than he had intended.
'Of course, you will think you know this,' he said more gently. 'After all, have we not spoken of it many times before? But accept it when I say that you cannot truly understand, for you have never walked in the crater of Osrakum. This is something that you feel with the fibres of your flesh or not at all. You have heard my words?'
Carnelian swallowed, nodded.
Then believe them.' His father's hands dropped away, his shoulders slumped.
Compassion made Carnelian bold. 'What burden are you carrying, Father?'
The greatest burden. Choice.'
The word was like a gate slamming shut.
They stood in silence. The green glass of the sea swelled up and from several points began to shatter white from side to side. Carnelian watched it, brooding over his father's words. Thoughts of the visitors worked their barbs into his mind. The salt wind blew hard upon his face but was not strong enough to lift his robe's brocades.
'Why have they come, my Lord?' he said at last.
'You will know that soon enough. Suffice to say that we will return with them to Osrakum.'
Images, hopes, dreams spated through Carnelian's mind. Osrakum, the heart and wonder of the Three Lands. More a yearning than a word. A bleak thought squeezed the vision still.
'Is their ship large enough to take us all?'
His father's eyes were fathomless.
As they looked out, both their faces turned to stone. The ominous movement of the sea seemed a mirror to their thoughts. Neither saw the storm brewing its violence along the southern margin of the sky.
A clanging on the doors called them back.
'Your mask,' his father said in a low voice and Carnelian remembered it and held it up before his face. His father's hand was a heavy comfort on his shoulder. The doors opened remotely and the beings came in, glimmering like dark water, their masks like flames.
Carnelian went with his father to greet them. With a clatter the day was choked out with shutters. They met the Masters by the fire in the crowding gloom.
'We trust you found sufficient comfort in your night's repose?' Suth said.
One of the apparitions lifted a hand like a jewelled dove. Sufficient, it signed.
Carnelian found the sign curious, made as it was by an unfamiliar hand. The Masters had discarded their travelling cloaks and were now clad in splendour. Their haughty faces of gold seemed a gilded part of the long marble swelling of their heads. Each was crowned with dull fire. Each wore many-layered robes, plumaged, crusted with gems and ivories.
'We shall needs be rid of uninvited eyes and ears.' It was Aurum's deep swelling voice.
Suth lifted his hand and at its command shadows flitted along the hem of the hall. The movement passed away. 'We are alone, my Lords.'
They unmasked. Carnelian felt something like surprise that the masks had managed to contain the radiance of their faces.
'Suth, your son is still here,' sang Vennel's liquid voice. Suth's response was cold. 'Is he not at least as entitled to be here as are you, my Lord?'
Vennel’s head inclined back and his eyes flashed. 'He is a child.'
Carnelian glared at Vennel's perfect face and was pleased to find his neck too long.
'In Osrakum, he would already have been given his blood-ring by the Wise,' Suth said.
Carnelian looked at the Masters' hands. Each was knuckled with rings like stars but on the least finger of each right hand there was a dull, narrow band. A ring of skymetal that grew bloody when not oiled. Iron, most precious of substances save only the ichor of the Gods Themselves. It fell from the sky in stones. A gift from the Twins to Their Chosen. The sign of Their covenant.
Jaspar smiled at Carnelian. 'Whether he wears a ring or not, I for one can see no reason to exclude him from our conclave.'
'Nor I,' said Aurum with over-bright eyes. Then let us begin,' said Suth.
Carnelian saw that five chairs had been set in a half-circle round the hearth. There was a hissing of silk as they each sat down. Their faces hung in the gloom like moons. They closed their eyes. Gems in their robes trapped fire-flicker. Carnelian looked down at his hands and wondered what was happening.
'Even now the Heart of the Commonwealth is failing,' Aurum rumbled, making Carnelian jump.
Understanding, Carnelian almost gasped. The God Emperor was dying. He watched his father's hand rise up to make the sign for grief. The other Masters followed him. Carnelian hesitated then copied them. He stared at his hand, making sure the sign was well made. He was relieved when the others' hands flattened to palms. Alone, his father kept his hand raised, but then he too let it go.
This crisis imperils the Commonwealth as it has always done,' said Vermel. 'Her subjects must not know of this ere a new candidate is made ready to receive the Dual Essence.'
'And so we are come with great urgency, to offer the Ruling Lord of House Suth the ring of He-who-goes-before,' said Aurum.
Jaspar fixed unblinking eyes on Suth's face. 'Will you accept it, Lord?'
'Is this the will of the Great?'
'It is,' said Aurum. Their Clave, in formal session, elected you.' 'Why?'
'We were in some disarray, my Lord,' said Vennel.
'More accurately, at each others' throats,' said Jaspar.
Suth smiled though his eyes were flint. That at least has not changed.'
Vennel's colourless eyes lingered on Jaspar, who ignored them, saying, 'We need you, my Lord, to speak for the Great in the interregnum before the election of the next Gods.'
The Great must be much diminished if they need seek leadership from one so long away,' said Suth.
'From being so long away, the Ruling Lord Suth might be assumed untainted by narrow factional considerations,' said Aurum.
'From being so long away, the Ruling Lord Suth might be assumed dismissive of all considerations,' said Suth. ‘So it was said,' said Vennel.
Suth looked across the fire at Aurum. 'Was it indeed?'
The Commonwealth must have another God and he who shall be They must be rightly chosen,' said Aurum.
There is, of course, a difference of opinion as to who should be chosen,' said Jaspar. There are two candidates, the Jade Lord twins, Nephron and Molochite.'
'And three factions?' asked Carnelian.
The three visitor Masters looked at him and then inclined their heads.
'Of course, the matter had been decided,' said Vermel.
'But not to the general satisfaction,' said Aurum.
'Certainly not to your satisfaction, my Lord.'
'I am merely one among many. Those whom I represent would feel closer to being satisfied if the Lord Suth were to oversee the election.'
'We must all bow to the will of the Clave,' said Vennel sardonically.
Aurum's head angled in irritation.
'My Lords,' said Suth.
All faces turned to him.
'No more words are needed. I will wear the Pomegranate Ring.'
Jaspar hid his surprise quickly under an idol's smile. Vennel’s face was as blank as a drift of snow but his eyes looked start
led.
Aurum's eyes blazed with triumph. Then we must make preparations to return.'
Carnelian watched his father nod slowly, staring into the distance. His face seemed a piece of marble.
'Perhaps we should wait for the clemency of the storms,' said Vennel quickly.
'My Lord knows our purpose can brook no delay, the weather notwithstanding,' said Aurum.
'Still, the baran must be repaired and we require provisions,' said Vennel.
Carnelian's guts wrenched. 'Surely you have supplies upon your ship, my Lords. Here, we have barely enough to last the winter.'
Aurum fixed him with his glassy gaze. 'You will have enough, nephew, for our needs.'
'For two months, my Lord, we have been upon the sea,' said Jaspar. The provisions that the sea did not spoil were all consumed. The baran's holds are as empty as the stomachs of her crew.'
'Carnelian,' his father said. 'She must be filled up from our storerooms.'
'But our people-'
There is no other way, my son.' His father's eyes dulled. 'Whether we stay or go there will be some who go hungry.'
Jaspar smiled indulgently. 'My Lord does of course realize that the Commonwealth will compensate his House in full measure for any loss?'
'Of course, my Lord,' Suth said quickly, glancing at his son. The boy was holding in his pain as he had taught him, but only just. 'But let there be no talk of compensation till the full cost be known.'
'Wood will be needed, rope, sail parchment, tar,' said Aurum.
'I shall instruct my people to give you access to everything we have, my Lord,' said Suth, and as he spoke his eyes returned to linger on his son's tight, resolute face.
When his father left the hall with the other Masters, Carnelian stayed behind. He stared into the fire and tried to work out what he would say to Tain, his other brothers, his people. No-one must starve. He would not allow anyone to starve. Surely there was time enough to work something out.
He rose and left. Nothing would happen till the morning. He would sleep and rise early. He walked back through eerie quiet. The only sounds were the scuffling of his escort and the whining wind.
Misery was crowding in. He tried to turn his back on it by preparing himself for bed. When Tain appeared complaining that some strange men had come up from the ship, Carnelian told him not to worry.
Tain looked unhappy. 'But they're sticking their noses everywhere. The Master's given them leave to pass our wards.'
'I said things will be fine,' snapped Carnelian. 'Now either go back to your own room or get to bed.'
Tain's cheeks went as red as if he had been slapped.
Carnelian turned away to face the wall. For a long time he could not find sleep. Shadows trembled up the wall like wind-wafted leaves. He could almost feel the ship out there, a cold fist pushing hard against his back.
PILLAGE
Ruins smoking on a hill
They stole my hands' work
My children
And in their place
With violence
This child of hatred planted
(extract from a barbarian lament)
Carnelian woke. Each breath clouded the air. Wrapped in a blanket he went to the window to look out at his enemy. There the ship lay like a mouth in the sea. That sight of her fixed his resolve. He woke Tain. His brother sat up tousled and confused. 'It's the middle of the night.'
'No, it's near daybreak and the household will be stirring. Today I must be painted as well as dressed.'
Tain stood up grumbling. He stumbled off to get the jars and brushes while Carnelian fiddled with the fire. When Tain came back he was still grumbling.
'I don't know what you're complaining about,' barked Carnelian. 'I'm the one who has to stand here naked.'
'Do you really need to be painted?'
'Would I ask you if I didn't?' Carnelian saw his brother flinch at his tone. 'I want to be free to go out into the open,' he said more softly.
Starting at his sooty fingers, Tain began to wash him. 'How do you think you'll get past the guards this time?' he said humourlessly. 'I'd like to see you manage the ledge in your Master's robes.'
'For your information, dear brother, I intend to use my Master's mask. I'll order them to let me pass and they will.'
They might at that,' muttered Tain.
When Carnelian was cleaned, Tain began the painting. He stirred the pigment in its jar with a brush and began to apply it to Carnelian's skin with long even strokes. The chill paint made the skin pimple. The pigment was a different tone of white from Carnelian's skin but even then, there was so little light that Tain had to keep turning him to see which bits he had done already.
When it was finished Tain hurried the drying with a fan. Carnelian shivered with each gust. ‘I’ll bet you're enjoying this,' he said through rattling teeth.
'Of course,' said Tain and they grinned at each other.
When he was ready they put on all the robes. Carnelian decided he had no need of jewels. They tied his mask on, then went out together and were surprised to find no guards outside the door. They made off through the barracks. Everywhere was the same; the Hold seemed abandoned. Neither voiced his dread. When they came down into the stretch of the alleyway that ran between the Sword Court and the Long Court they began to hear a rhythmic thudding.
In the Long Court the snow had been trampled grey. The mouths of doors and blind-eyed windows gaped all round its edge. Carnelian and Tain were scandalized to see the snow blowing into the rooms beyond. The thudding rang round the court. It grew louder as they passed along the arcade. The door to the Great Hall was ajar. They approached it as if it were the opening to a cave in whose depths some monster lay. The sounds grew sharper with each step they took. The chopping stopped suddenly. They peered round the jamb. Tain gasped. Carnelian froze, staring. There was a long stuttering eruption. One of the columns was falling, dragging down a canopy of ceiling. It butted another column with its carved head. They both shuddered as the falling one scraped down, trailing a smoke of plaster. It crashed into the floor. The impact shook up through their feet. They watched it bounce and rock still. The dust settled. Snow drove down through the ragged hole that had been ripped in the ceiling. Flurries danced among the columns still left standing.
Carnelian strode into the hall in fury, trailing Tain after him. Three columns had already been cut down, felled like trees. He reached one of the stumps and touched its splinter teeth with tender disbelief. The chopping began again. He kicked his way towards it through the debris of the mosaics. Five strange creatures were hacking into the smooth skin of another column. Thin grey light filtered down with the snow. It revealed them to be as bony as old men's hands. Their skin was spotted with bruise-blue wave glyphs.
Carnelian planted himself before them, bellowing, 'What in the names of the Gods do you think you're doing?'
He saw the sailors' narrow faces look up, sweat-glazed, taut with effort. Eyes widened, they collapsed to the ground. An axe clattered to the floor. The blue glyphs had been branded, not tattooed. Joints knobbed their limbs. They reeked of bitumen and fear. Carnelian could see their shaking. Their terror and frailty rebuked him. He saw Tain wandering lost amongst the devastation.
A voice cried out in anger, and a man burst into the light. He was taller than the sailors, but still much smaller than Carnelian. He scolded the bony creatures, jabbing at them with a stick. The man must have seen Carnelian looming there, for the next moment he fell to his knees, mumbling, 'Master.'
Carnelian came further into the light. 'Has this been sanctioned by a Master?'
'Yes, Master,' the man replied without looking up.
'Why is it necessary?'
'Long timbers are needed, Master, to repair the masts.'
'And who're you?'
'Ship's captain, Master.'
'Look up when I speak to you.'
The man lifted his face but not his eyes.
'And my people who were here, where're they?'
They've been moved elsewhere, Master.'
'Show me.'
'Instantly.'
As the captain rose, Carnelian noticed the thick ring of brass circling his brown neck. It widened at his throat and there was inscribed with a wave glyph. To the right of the inscription the collar threaded a slider showing the number eight. To the left were other sliders. Carnelian knew this must be a legionary collar detailing the man's rank and recording his service to the Commonwealth. Only the Masters could make brass. Only they could put that collar about a man's neck, or take it off. Any man found wearing such a collar outside the bounds of his service faced crucifixion.
Carnelian called over to Tain. He came, sullen, cowed. Carnelian reached out and squeezed some reassurance into his arm. Together, they followed the captain out of the hall. Behind them the axes had already resumed their chopping.
As Carnelian accompanied the captain through his home, he found that it had become strange, unknown. Order had passed away. The passages were choked with people, with bundles, with rolled carpets. There was a clatter and echoes and the angry voices of his guardsmen as they herded the children and the women. These last were strangely silent. Thin chameleoned faces, fearful-eyed. When they saw him they looked up with hope. He tried to smile until he realized that all they could see was the disdainful fixed expression of his mask. They made way for him and, as he passed, hung their heads.
The captain brought him to the training hall of the tyadra. Carnelian's people filled it like a colony of birds: jabbering, marking little territories with the salvage of their belongings. Weapon racks were ranged behind them on the walls. The target manikins had been shoved into a corner, with all their ropes and pulleys, their blunted swords and spears.
The captain was standing head bowed, eyes averted, waiting. Carnelian dismissed him. Tain's face expressed incomprehension as he looked around him at the refugees. Carnelian thought his own face must look the same under the mask.
The din quietened to silence. People stood still, their arms clutching their belongings, looking at Carnelian, expecting something, needing something. He felt a fraud. He had nothing to say to them, nothing that could make sense of what was happening. Outside more axes were chopping. There were other violent sounds of pillage. Carnelian could not bear their eyes. So many eyes. He could not resist the cowardice of lifting his hand, to command prostration. Then there were no more eyes, no chameleoned faces, just the backs of heads. Still he felt they were accusing him. These people were in his keeping. It was not only his father that had taught him that, but his own instinct. He turned his back on them and walked out into the Sword Court. His steps were measured enough but Carnelian did not deceive himself, he knew he was fleeing.
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