The Third God sdotc-3

by Ricardo Pinto

  He slept and, when he woke, he found they were pushing through a dense weave of stems. Gnats threaded the air. Fish darted glinting in the shadowed water. Sometimes the boat would drift into pools along whose banks he glimpsed giants shifting slowly, their movements hissing a sway into the reeds.

  Their stream eddied suddenly into a great, winding river. With her full weight Lily poled them towards the northern bank where they could move hidden within tunnels of rushes. Glancing up-river he caught glimpses of an immense gorge.

  Soon Lily was poling them down a branch channel that swelled into a water meadow paved with lotus pads and golden hyacinth. The pads squealed as the prow parted them. He tried to talk to her, but she seemed not to hear him. Her shrouds streaked with sweat, she kept the boat slicing through the green.

  When she pointed over his head, he swivelled round and peered into the twilight. An island rose where the river forked ahead. For a moment he could see nothing out of the ordinary, but then he noticed a thread of rising smoke. He turned back to her, heart beating hard. ‘My people?’

  She nodded.

  He watched her as she punted. Her strength belied her apparent fragility. He glanced over the prow. Osidian would be there, Fern and Poppy and Krow. A part of him longed to see them; another misgave at the thought. The truth was that he felt too exhausted, too drained to take on again the burden of their expectations, of his need to seek atonement.

  He looked at Lily. ‘How long has it been?’

  ‘Since we captured you? Eight days.’

  ‘So long?’ He realized that Osidian must have abandoned his pursuit of Aurum. He considered what this implied about the situation he was going into. Something occurred to him. ‘How did you know where to find them?’

  Lily raised her pole, then, throwing her weight onto it, drove it deep into the water. ‘There’re many Leper eyes in these valleys.’

  ‘The camp will be fortified; the Marula guards jumpy. It might be better if you were to leave me at some distance and let me walk in.’

  ‘You think you’re strong enough for that?’

  He imagined stumbling through the undergrowth, in the darkness.

  Lily drew the pole up. ‘It might be better if we make our own camp on the opposite shore. I can take you over in the morning.’

  Carnelian agreed.

  He helped Lily pull the boat up from the water. She lifted a bundle from the stern then made off up the slope. Carnelian followed her, dizzy, his feet snagging on roots. Several times he had to stop to free his shrouds from thorns.

  They came to a small clearing lit dimly by the darkening sky. Lily found a place to sit. Barely seeing her, he sat nearby. ‘I suppose we shouldn’t make a fire.’

  ‘They’d see it. Put your hands out.’

  Carnelian did so. They hovered, faint, but visible enough for Lily to see them. He felt something falling onto his palms. Bringing it up to his nose he sniffed it. A smoky, cooked smell. Fernroot of some kind. He bit off a piece and chewed. It was floury and faintly sweet.

  ‘This morning a rumour reached us that the Ringwall’s been closed,’ said Lily.

  ‘All of it?’ he asked, confused.

  ‘At least that part running above us.’

  He thought about it. Aurum might have closed the border to stop Osidian getting into the Guarded Land.

  ‘Au-rum’s doing?’

  ‘Probably,’ Carnelian said.

  ‘Why would he do that? Is it to keep you from returning?’

  Carnelian’s instinct was to deny this, but the lie caught in his throat.

  ‘Why with his dragons does he fear two Masters and a band of Marula mercenaries?’

  Carnelian could only answer that if he told her who Osidian was.

  ‘I’m also curious as to why he came down here in the first place. Though there are legends describing a time when the Masters brought fire and ruin down from the Guarded Land, no Leper living can remember such a thing.’

  ‘He came to put down a Plainsman rebellion.’

  ‘Then it had nothing to do with you being among them?’

  Carnelian saw that no lie he could come up with would make sense of everything Lily knew. Further, he could not clearly understand why it was that he wanted to keep the truth from her. So he launched into some kind of account of how he and Osidian had ended up in the Earthsky, of what had happened there, of why they had come with Marula into the Leper Valleys.

  ‘I still don’t understand why you’re so important to him.’

  ‘It’s not me, but the other Master that Aurum seeks.’ Carnelian went on to tell her why. When he was done, there was silence between them.

  ‘You expect me to believe that this other Master is actually the God in the Mountain?’

  Carnelian shook his head. As he tried to explain divine election, he became increasingly aware of her exasperation. ‘Do you have any other theory that fits what you know?’

  ‘So you believe Au-rum acts according to the wishes of the current God?’

  ‘Actually I believe the opposite is likely to be true.’

  Lily groaned. ‘But if he were to capture this other Master, this fallen god, Aurum would triumph, right?’

  ‘He might be allowed back into the Mountain. I’m sure that’s what he desires above all else.’

  ‘And if the fallen god were to reach the Guarded Land he’d cause Au-rum ruin? Perhaps even overthrow the God in the Mountain?’

  ‘The God in the Mountain’s unassailable. He has countless legions. The Mountain is a fortress none could take, but there’s a possibility that, should he reach the Guarded Land, he could disrupt the currents of power of the Commonwealth. This I’ve worked for, will work for, in the hope it will cause the Masters enough confusion that they’ll forget the Plainsmen defied them in open rebellion.’

  ‘And Au-rum?’

  ‘He’d fall prey to the God in the Mountain.’

  A rasping rhythm of insect calls filled the night. Lily suggested they should settle down to sleep.

  Lily shook Carnelian awake. Her red eyes were gazing down at him. She pulled her shrouds over her head and rose. He spent some moments gazing up at the blueing sky. His body ached all over. Groaning, he rose, then plodded down the slope after Lily’s pale form.

  When they reached the boat they pushed it down into the water and then she held it for him as he clambered aboard. Soon she was poling them away from the bank.

  The water was a grey mirror. Night still lingered among the reeds. Winged shapes flitted across the dawn sky.

  Lily made one last, slow punt to nudge the boat into the bank. Standing leaning on her pole she seemed a kharon boatman with his steering oar.

  ‘So this is goodbye then?’ he said.

  She nodded, her face, even her eyes hidden beneath her shrouds. He waited, but there was nothing more. He rose, steadied himself on the prow and swung onto the shore. When he looked back, the boat was already beginning to edge away. He felt suddenly alone and realized he was sorry that he would never see Lily again. He raised his hand in a half-hearted gesture, then watched as she disappeared among the reeds.

  Walking along the bank brought Carnelian into view of the camp: a wound in the forest edged about by a crude palisade. Smoke was rising in a dozen spires. According to Lily, he had been away eight days. Time enough for Aurum to make the pass to Makar secure. In lingering, Osidian had thrown away any chance he might have had to overtake Aurum and, with that, the failure of his schemes was all but assured. Reluctant to confront what awaited him there, Carnelian felt like turning round. It might still be possible to catch up with Lily. No, his fate lay before him, for good or ill.

  As he approached the camp a cry went up. Marula sprang to the palisade. Carnelian made for a gateway and found it barred by a hedge of lances. There was fear in their faces as they stared at him. Eyes widened as he threw back his cowl. The bronze points wavered and began to rise. He marched forward and a gap opened in their ranks. Soon he was among them, breath
ing their stale sweat. He saw with what fearfulness they drew away from him. It was not him they feared, but the contagion they believed he carried. One stood out as being braver than the others: Carnelian recognized him as Sthax. He was wondering how to react when a tall, ash-grey man appeared in his path. Carnelian forgot everything else. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see me, Morunasa?’

  The Oracle seemed impassive, but his yellow eyes betrayed a mix of emotion Carnelian could not read. There was an increase in the hubbub. He knew it was Osidian approaching even before he came into sight. A darker figure followed just behind him; a smaller one pushed past them both. Seeing it was Poppy running to greet him, Carnelian grinned. Krow, rushing forward, caught her. She struggled, but fell still when Osidian advanced.

  The emerald intensity of his eyes was a shock.

  ‘Are you clean?’

  Carnelian saw the fear for him there was in Osidian’s face. It humbled and confused him. He nodded. Osidian searched Carnelian’s eyes, uncertain.

  ‘I am clean, my Lord,’ Carnelian said, in Quya.

  Osidian’s shoulders fell. He came so close Carnelian felt uncomfortable, but he did not flinch when Osidian leaned forward to kiss him. Osidian gave him one last, intense look then turned away crying out: ‘Morunasa, we leave immediately.’

  Poppy was there, beaming at him, tearful. Carnelian knelt, opening his arms, and she ran into them. She nuzzled him, wetting his throat with her tears as she rattled out the fears she had had for him, how long they had searched, how she had never given up hope. Looking over her shoulder, Carnelian saw Krow gazing at her, hesitating as to whether he should come to greet him or wait. Next to Krow, standing like a post, was Fern. Carnelian thought his eyes cold. Upset, he gave all his attention to Poppy. By the time he looked up again, Fern had disappeared into the maelstrom of the Marula breaking camp.

  They rode across the island. The villages they came to had been abandoned but, though the roofs of their huts had been burned, the circles of their mud walls were still intact. Trees still shaded the paths. There were some dead, but these hung rotting from trees among ferngardens still fresh and green.

  They waded water meadows following underwater roads whose routes were marked by posts. Eventually they came up out of the water, where a track led up to a ridge. It was only when they crested this that they saw, below, the black swathe of devastation branded deep into the earth. Soon they were once more riding through a grey land spined by charcoaled stumps, down avenues of the impaled dead. Where the dragons had passed they had left the earth scarred. The rest of the day was a slog along a black road made by flame-pipes.

  In deepening dusk they made camp on the edge of a valley. While some Marula cleared the ground others began to erect a palisade. Osidian told Carnelian he wanted to talk. They passed through a perimeter of aquar being fed to the heart of the camp where Oracles were setting fires. At the centre of this space was a hearth already lit. Osidian sat down, his eyes on the flames teasing smoke from wood and dry ferns. When Carnelian joined him, Osidian proceeded to question him about the Lepers. Carnelian did not feel it a betrayal to tell him what he knew.

  As he described the pitiful refugees he had witnessed, Osidian nodded. ‘They hate Aurum?’

  ‘Venomously.’

  ‘Could we use this hate? Would they fight for us?’

  Carnelian did not like the direction Osidian was taking. ‘I told you already I saw no men, just women, children.’

  ‘Was my Lord then overpowered and captured by women or children?’

  Carnelian had to admit that this was unlikely, though he had only indistinct memories of his capture.

  ‘You learned nothing else at all?’

  Carnelian followed his instinct to pass on the information he had gleaned from Lily. ‘The Lepers told me the Ringwall above here has been closed.’

  Osidian’s eyes pierced him. ‘How could they know this?’

  Carnelian shrugged. ‘They told me word had come down the river to them.’ He saw how hard Osidian was taking this news. ‘You should not have waited here for me.’

  Osidian regarded him, emotions shifting in his eyes. ‘It was already too late to reach the pass before Aurum.’

  Carnelian was surprised to feel disappointment. Did he really want to believe that Osidian had chosen to abandon his campaign for love of him? He focused on what was important. ‘Then you know it’s hopeless.’

  Osidian frowned. ‘We shall go on. We will reach the pass tomorrow.’

  ‘Why go on? If it is not Aurum who has closed the Ringwall then it is the Wise. Either way the Commonwealth will be impenetrable.’

  Osidian’s birthmark folded deeper into his frown. ‘We shall see.’

  Under the licking onslaught of the flames the tangle of firewood was collapsing.

  Morunasa appeared. ‘Master, you wanted to check the perimeter.’

  Osidian rose. He looked down at Carnelian. ‘Tonight I would rather that my Lord should sleep at my fire.’

  It was the sadness in Osidian’s face that made Carnelian agree. He watched him move away with Morunasa, then turned back to the fire and saw in it a vision of what would happen should they try to force the Pass against dragons.

  He punched the earth. ‘No!’

  ‘Who are you talking to, Carnie?’

  It was Poppy approaching. Anxiety jumped from his face to hers. ‘What’s the matter?’

  He reached out to catch her wrist. Drew her to his side. ‘Nothing.’

  She looked at him, puzzled, then said: ‘Do you have dreams?’

  He humphed. ‘Oh yes, I have dreams.’ But he did not want to talk about them, especially with her. ‘Where’s Fern?’

  ‘Out there,’ she said, pointing with her chin. ‘I left him with Krow.’

  Carnelian smiled at her. ‘Krow’s turning out to be nicer than you thought, isn’t he?’

  Poppy looked down, chewing her lip. ‘I suppose.’ She looked up. ‘I came here to tell you what’s been happening and to find out what you’ve been up to.’

  ‘You go first,’ he said.

  She began describing what had happened on the night he was taken. ‘The Master’s rage was terrifying. He sent the Marula searching for you in all directions.’

  Carnelian remembered her cries.

  ‘In the morning his rage had cooled, but it was still burning in his eyes.’

  She gazed at him and he nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. ‘The Master said that, if the Lepers thought they’d suffered from Hookfork’s dragons, they’d soon learn they could suffer much worse at his hands. It was Fern who told him to go easy. He suggested we should use the terror they’d suffered to our advantage. Numbed by horror and loss, the Lepers might respond better to kindness.

  ‘I think it was seeing how frantic Fern was that made the Master listen to him.’

  ‘Frantic?’

  ‘Don’t let his coldness fool you, he was frantic.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Well, for one thing, the two of them worked on getting you back, together, like brothers.’

  Carnelian found this overwhelming. Poppy saw the change come upon him and took his hand. ‘They both love you.’

  By the time Osidian and Morunasa came back with some of the other Oracles Poppy had gone. Carnelian had been trying to work out how he felt. He watched Osidian approach and reminded himself of what he had done to the Ochre. Whatever else he felt, that could never be forgiven.

  He addressed Osidian in Quya. ‘My Lord, is the perimeter secure enough to defend us against Aurum’s return?’

  Osidian gazed at him as if he were holding an internal debate. ‘If he comes with huimur alone we can escape him.’

  ‘What if he has obtained more auxiliaries?’

  ‘Well, then we will find ourselves in a difficult position. Nevertheless my calculations suggest we still have a few days’ grace. Enough time, perhaps, to force our way up to Makar.’

  The next morning, Carnelian, having sadd
led his aquar, went to look for Fern. He found him adjusting the girth on his saddle-chair. Fern glanced up as he approached, then returned to what he was doing. Carnelian watched him, searching for an opening to conversation.

  ‘Poppy told me how you worked with the Master to try and get me back.’

  ‘It was either that or watch him prey on some other poor bastards,’ Fern said, without turning.

  Carnelian stared at his back. Desiring to touch him. ‘Was that the only reason?’ he said, then grimaced, longing to take the words back.

  Fern whirled round. ‘What do you want from me?’

  Carnelian could look into his brown eyes now. There was anger there, but also a vulnerability, as if Fern were caught in a trap he could not escape. Carnelian yearned to help him free himself, but did not know how. ‘I’m not sure.’

  Lunging forward, Fern kissed him. ‘There. Do you feel better? Now both of us have proved we don’t care if you’re a leper.’

  Carnelian stared. Fern vaulted into the saddle-chair, then touched his feet to the aquar’s neck. The creature rose, forcing Carnelian to step back. As he watched it pound away he frowned, confused.

  After crossing a stretch of marshy water their march brought them up onto the hump of an island. For the rest of the morning they journeyed along its spine, keeping parallel to the silver band of the cliffs of the Guarded Land. They were still following Aurum’s ashen road.

  The sun was at its highest when the land began to sink down into a vast swamp, on the other side of which they could see the gaping maw in the white cliff. Green land ran up into the narrowing throat, greying until it became the pale thread that led up to Makar.

  Earth softened to mud as they descended towards the swamp. Soon they were wading, water up to their saddle-chairs, following the winding route marked through the water lilies by posts. Here and there they would pass a mound covered with the charcoal ruins of some hamlet whose inhabitants’ tattered remains spiked the road posts, grinning like Oracles.

  At last they began to leave the pools behind. Ahead the cliffs of the Guarded Land rose white and scabrous in the afternoon. They followed the high ground west towards the gaping Pass.