He feels the well behind him and the terror of its pull. He denies its whispering. His father offers him a cloak soaked with the wrath of the sky. Carnelian dons it like armour. It brings silence and stillness. It makes him taller. Ebeny offers a gleaming crescent in each hand. In his grip they are ivory ranga. Her feet bleed like crushed fruit. ‘Take the spear.’ He looks at his father, wanting it from his hands, but they are empty. He sees his mother impaled and does not recognize her raging face. Looking to his father for help he sees upon his face an expression he cannot read. Is his father to blame? His father shakes his head, sadly, holding his side, clearly wounded. Seeing the spike in his mother’s belly, Carnelian curls his fingers round it, pulls and it comes free, releasing a flood of blood that soon runs clear. The blue spear is rusted iron. Blade soft as liver, riddled with worms.
Then he is lost and scared in a dark forest. It is raining cold, molten iron. A winking light draws him towards a burning tree. He touches its bark, smooth as bone. It is perfect and crystalline under his hand. Light is trapped in its glass, which looks so delicate he fears he must crack it. He becomes aware of the snake roof of branches shutting out the sky. Hears the sucking slurp as its roots leech blood from the flesh in which his feet are mired. Sickened by its feeding on the living and the dead, he raises his spear to strike, then sees the child trapped inside the chrysalis trunk. He knows it is himself, dreaming. He hesitates, fearing to wake the dreamer. The tree is the child’s dream even though it imprisons him. To kill it, he must sacrifice the child, sacrifice himself. Aiming for the child’s heart, he stabs. The spear comes out clean and sharp and well made. The child is birthed in a torrent of blood. Carnelian walks away, cradling him. They come to a river that he crosses dry-footed because of his ivory shoes. A woman waits for them on the other side. Ancient, vulnerable, he loves her. Her face is a skull. She is the mother of his mother. He offers up the child and she lets him pass. Barefoot on the fresh uncurling green, joyous in the sun, with his brothers and sisters, breathing the blue of the sky.
A wrinkled face. Crail? Carnelian strained to make sense of what he was seeing. The homunculus.
‘The Two be praised.’
Carnelian reached his hand up to touch his own face and felt warm metal. He was masked.
‘How do you feel, Seraph?’
Carnelian saw the homunculus’ eager anxiety. When he tried to sit up, pain shot down his spine. His head seemed to have turned to stone. He fell back.
‘The Seraph must rest, regain his strength. It always takes time to recover from such deep sleep. Much more so when one has been under for so long.’
Carnelian attempted to speak. Still half in the dream, his voice there was clear and strong.
‘Seraph?’
Carnelian tried again and this time noticed the rasping in his throat. He realized that was the only sound he was making. He gathered his strength and pushed air out. ‘How long?’ he croaked.
‘More than two days, Seraph.’
Shocked, Carnelian tried to rise again. The same shooting pain.
The homunculus dared to touch him. ‘The elixir worked very potently in you, Seraph. There was not enough nectar in what you took to sustain you, but I dared not give you more.’
Through the eyeslits of his mask, Carnelian saw how scared the homunculus looked. Clearly he had been frantic. Two days! Something occurred to Carnelian. ‘How long have you…?’
‘Been awake?’ the homunculus asked. ‘More than a day now, Seraph.’
Alarm flared in Carnelian. ‘Legions?’
‘My master sleeps undisturbed.’
Carnelian knew he dare not believe him. He struggled to roll over onto one side.
‘Really, Seraph, you have not the strength to stand.’
‘Legions,’ Carnelian said, pushing himself up on one arm. He remained there, trembling, before the arm gave way and he fell back onto the bed.
‘My master has not woken, Seraph. Truly he has not. Even if I had wanted to wake him, it would have been in defiance of his command.’
Carnelian rolled onto his back. ‘What command?’
‘When I asked him when he wanted to awake he told me I would know the time when it came.’ The homunculus’ face was sweaty with anxiety. ‘I do not believe that time has yet come.’ His eyes lit up. ‘Another letter came for you, Seraph.’ He disappeared from view, but was soon back, brandishing a parchment.
Carnelian stared at it as the homunculus showed him it carried Legions’ seal. ‘When?’
‘Early this afternoon, Seraph. It is now well past nightfall.’
Carnelian gazed at the letter, wanting and not wanting to know its contents. ‘Read it to me.’
The homunculus held the letter as though it had become dangerous.
‘Please, read it to me.’
Grimacing, the man broke the seal as if he were tearing open a wound on his own body. Carefully, he opened its panels and began reading. ‘“It is dawn now. Though I have pursued him all night, he is still beyond my reach. Perhaps it is that I play into his hands, but I will not turn back now.”’
The homunculus looked at Carnelian as if uncertain that he should continue.
‘All of it,’ Carnelian rasped.
The homunculus returned his gaze to the parchment. ‘“If he seeks to envelop me, I shall break through. If he offers me battle, then we shall decide this matter once and for all. If he continues to flee, I shall pursue him, if needs be to the gates of Osrakum herself. It is possible that he will evade me, that he will make for Makar. If he does, you must come to whatever accommodation you can with him. Save yourself.”’
‘Nothing else?’
‘Nothing, Seraph.’
‘Then please resume your mask so that I can remove mine.’
‘At your command, Seraph.’
Carnelian heard the man pacing away. When the homunculus said it was safe, Carnelian peeled the mask from his face. Exposed, his skin was momentarily chilled. The pattern of his dream was clearer than the chamber around him. He closed his eyes and contemplated the shape of it. He tried to inhabit it, tease meaning out from it, but it yielded nothing definite. The memory of joy faded and the blue of that sky. He tried again to rise, but his body betrayed him. He felt he had washed up on some remote shore. He yearned for his friends, though they were far away with Osidian, in the Gods alone knew what danger.
With a crash the outer doors were flung open. Carnelian jumped to his feet. He heard cries of protest, quickly snuffed out. Heavy footfalls approached. He cast around for something he could use as a weapon. An immense shape appeared out of the shadows, of which its billowing cloak seemed a part. Pallid military leathers. The serenity of his gold mask belied the storm of this Master’s entry.
Carnelian feared at first it must be Aurum, then recognized the features of the mask. ‘Osidian,’ he cried in relief.
Osidian glanced to either side and began unmasking.
Carnelian threw his hand up to stop him. ‘We are not alone, my Lord.’ He looked around and found the homunculus cowering behind a clock. ‘Homunculus…’
The little man glanced up.
Be blind, Carnelian gestured with his hand. The homunculus put on its eyeless mask.
‘Why do you keep the creature here?’ Osidian said.
‘There is no other place for him to go.’
‘Very well. It makes no difference. I shall soon confront its master with everything I am about to say to you.’
Both unmasked. Carnelian did not expect the emerald fury in Osidian’s eyes. ‘Aurum?’
The emeralds narrowed. ‘If he had known of your scheme, my Lord, even now I would be heading towards Osrakum his prisoner.’
Carnelian was startled. ‘My scheme?’
‘Spare me the pretence at innocence. How else could Legions have reached my commanders except through you who are his keeper?’
‘The Lesser Chosen commanders?’
‘Each had a letter delivered to him bearing the Gran
d Sapient’s seal.’
‘If they told you this, then surely they told you how they came by them?’
‘Have you not even the courage to confront me, Carnelian?’
Osidian’s look of contempt stung Carnelian to anger. ‘I would if I knew what you were talking about!’
Doubt banked the fire in Osidian’s eyes. ‘You insist on maintaining this pretence?’
‘It is no pretence. How did these letters come to them?’
Osidian’s eyes narrowed further. ‘None know from whence they came. They merely appeared.’
‘When?’
‘A couple of days after we arrived here.’
Carnelian gazed off into the corner, trying to imagine how Legions might have done it. Something occurred to him. He turned back to Osidian. ‘The render I sent out to you, the letters must have gone out then. Homunculus, did your master send letters out of the fortress?’
Motionless, the little man made no answer.
‘You will answer,’ said Osidian, an edge to his voice.
The homunculus nodded.
‘They were sent out of here on the same day that I arrived, were they not?’
‘Yes, Seraph,’ said the homunculus.
Osidian glanced into the corner with its hidden shadowy stair. ‘He had the letters ready in the cothon, knowing I would have need of resupply.’
Carnelian saw how he would not meet his glance again. Osidian knew he had accused him unfairly. Carnelian, still angry, turned his attention on the homunculus. ‘You knew this all the time, homunculus.’
The little man gave a reluctant nod.
‘Why did you keep this from me?’
The eyeless mask looked up. ‘My first loyalty is to my master, Seraph.’
‘And you did not imagine that his plan would fail?’
‘My masters rarely fail, Seraph.’
Still Carnelian felt betrayed. ‘But you hate him?’
‘Of what consequence, Seraph, the hatred of a slave?’
‘Had you thought to confess this to me, I would have done all in my power to protect you from him.’
Carnelian saw the way the room was distorted in the homunculus’ mirror face and remembered what he knew about the little man. His anger cooled. He gazed at Osidian. ‘How did the commanders fail?’
Osidian’s eyes met his. ‘They were to take me alive. It seems they could not agree on how to do it, nor when. Then they saw a way out in delivering me to Aurum. The opportunity to hide their betrayal behind one of the Great was too tempting for them, but they left it too long. Eventually, fearing that another might betray him, one of their number revealed their plot to me.’ His face seemed stone. ‘Though that will not save him.’
‘You blame them, even though it was a God Emperor who appointed them, with the Wise that are Their mouthpiece? How did you expect them to react when they received a command directly from Legions?’
‘Nevertheless, impaled upon my huimur’s banner poles, they shall provide me with standards that will bring terror to all their kind.’
This threat was close enough to what had happened to the Ochre to sicken Carnelian. He felt only revulsion and contempt for Osidian, who once again was intending to use murder to assuage his own frustration and fear of failure. ‘Do you really imagine that will bring you any closer to victory?’
Osidian flinched, his face darkening as he glared at Carnelian.
‘Who is going to command your huimur now?’
Osidian’s nose wrinkled. ‘I shall promote marumaga legionaries. They at least will not dare betray me.’
‘Are they ready to assume such responsibility?’
‘Most have had long experience of watching their masters in command.’
‘Assuming these promotions work, and you march out again, what will you do if Aurum once more chooses to fall back before you?’
‘I will pursue him.’
‘Even to the Gates of Osrakum?’
Osidian frowned.
‘Could you breach the Gates with your legion?’ Carnelian, who had seen them with his own eyes, knew how foolish such an attempt would be. Moreover it was clear to him that Osidian had not regained the confidence Legions had taken from him.
‘I believe you know, Osidian, that the only way you will enter Osrakum is if the Gates are opened for you from within.’
‘That will only happen if the political consensus among the Powers crumbles.’
‘Surely knowledge of your reappearance will widen the rift between the Wise and your mother: just as the part Aurum has played will divide her from the Great? And news of your edict of enfranchisement must cleave the Great from the Lesser Chosen and could not help but weaken confidence in any plan to muster the legions against you.’
Osidian shook his head. ‘The Wise control the means by which such news could reach Osrakum.’
‘Then send your treacherous commanders back to Osrakum with that news.’
‘The Wise have the means to stop them.’
Carnelian was taken aback. ‘Would they dare to have them killed?’
‘They would have no need to slay them, merely to delay them until the crisis has been resolved.’
Carnelian felt disappointed. He had been so certain he was following a thread out of this labyrinth. Then a way forward occurred to him. ‘But why would they wish to stop them?’
Osidian gazed at him, waiting for more.
‘Knowledge of your edict might very well serve the interests of the Wise…’
‘Go on.’
‘It would show the Great how you threaten the very foundations of their privilege…’
Carnelian could see his way clearly now. ‘The Wise cannot hope to keep news of what has been happening from Osrakum for ever. Since this is so, it behoves them to manage its revelation themselves. Why not allow the commanders through? Surely the Great will see you as the paramount threat? Is it not the primary function of the Great Balance to keep the Imperial Power from escaping Osrakum and assuming control of the legions? How could your mother explain your presence in the outer world? It would be in all their interests to join together to destroy you.’
Osidian frowned. ‘How would that help us?’
‘How long do you imagine such unity would last?’ Carnelian could not help a smile as Osidian began nodding. ‘All we have to do is remain beyond their reach as long as we can.’
‘And then what?’
Carnelian realized with surprise that at that moment, perhaps for the first time, he felt he and Osidian really were fighting for the same thing. Yet his confidence was already dimming. All the talk of grand politics had made him believe that they really might triumph. But on that issue Legions had spoken the clear truth. However fractured, the powers arrayed against them were unassailable. He tried coming at the problem from one direction after another, but always it was as if he were taking on a dragon with a spear.
‘I don’t know,’ he said at last. ‘We shall have to wait and see what opportunities arise. In the meantime you can weld our legion into a weapon that will be certain in your hand when we do choose to use it.’
Osidian gazed at him, clear-eyed, so that Carnelian felt he was seeing right through to his heart. ‘Very well. We shall do it your way. I shall return to our legion.’
‘I want to go with you.’
Osidian’s face tightened as if he was feeling some old wound. He glanced down and saw the homunculus. Carnelian realized they had both forgotten the little man was there.
‘What about Legions?’ Osidian said.
Carnelian felt the Grand Sapient was a burden he had borne too long alone. ‘Homunculus…’
‘Seraph?’ the little man said.
‘Can the Grand Sapient be lodged in a watch-tower?’
‘All the watch-towers of the Guarded Land are fully equipped with facilities designed to accommodate my masters.’
It was as Carnelian had guessed. Even sleeping in his capsule Legions must have needed to find accommodation on hi
s journey from Osrakum.
Osidian was nodding. ‘It would make sense to abandon this place.’
Carnelian felt a surge of relief.
‘You can set off in the morning. Meanwhile, I will return to the watch-tower and make sure it is ready to receive them. The Lesser Chosen traitors will begin their journey to Osrakum tomorrow.’
Osidian lifted his mask up to his face, then let it drop again. ‘I will send you more Marula as an escort.’
Carnelian nodded. Then, after they had both remasked, he watched Osidian fade into the shadows.
TOWER SUN-NINETY-THREE
Hunger does not make bread bake faster.
(a proverb from the Ringwall cities)
Slack – mouthed, staring, the marula crept across the marble floor of Aurum’s chamber looking around them like children in a sorcerous cave. Among them, Sthax had become just another warrior the moment Morunasa had appeared. The Oracle glanced at the clocks as if he had seen such mechanical organisms every day of his life, but he jumped with the others when they saw themselves reflected in Aurum’s mirrors. It took the Marula only a moment to realize they were seeing themselves, but that was enough time for their fists to tighten on their lances. For all their beauty, in that Chosen setting, in their leather armour they did look crude barbarians.
He had them wait while he and the homunculus descended into the vault. The capsules were there, pale in the gloom. Earlier, while the homunculus had helped him into his commander’s leathers, they had discussed how his masters were to be moved. Carnelian set down his light and looked at him. ‘Let us prepare the capsules for transport.’
The homunculus gave a nod and they broke open the lid of Legions’ capsule. The Grand Sapient lay inside like a corpse. They administered the elixir through his mummified lips. The last thing they wanted was for him to wake in transit. They checked his restraining straps then repeated the procedure with the other Sapients. When they were ready, the homunculus resealed the lids, even as Carnelian returned to the chamber above and brought Morunasa and the Marula down with him into the vault. They stared at the capsules with unconcealed horror.
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