Soon Carnelian was settling back into the familiar hollow of his command chair. He glanced round to check that the homunculus was braced against the bone wall, then gave the command to take her out. His Lefthand gave a nod of acknowledgement and Earth-is-Strong began lumbering out across the road. Carnelian peered down to see riders swirling below. Then the dragon was descending a ramp into a rolling mass of red dust into which she plunged on a westerly course. On either side other dragons seemed ships in a fog.
The dust-clouds subsided enough for him to be able to see that they were passing along a red road trampled through hri fields that stretched interminably to lilac horizons. He presumed the road had been made by Osidian’s passage the day before. In the lazy heat he watched shadoofs like the necks of heaveners rising and falling as they poured water along ditches. The regular grid of kraals made the land look like some vast upholstery. Here and there dark lines of sartlar moved, hunched, across a field; he wondered that they did not lift their heads to watch the dragons pass.
At last they came into a region in which the tussocked hri fields were scorched and trampled. In places burnt kraals formed blackened craters. Osidian sent a signal from tower to tower, calling a halt. Carnelian saw other dragons turning and so gave the same command to his. Earth-is-Strong swung round and then the cabin stilled. For a moment rattles came from distant chains and mechanisms. Then all fell silent. The musk of hri rose up from the earth with the heat. Carnelian felt the sweat soaking into the bandages binding his body. A muffled voice in the deck below was answered by another. Then he heard the Lepers coming in a rabble down the red road. Carnelian looked among the mounted and the walking, among the bristle of forks and scythes, but could find little point of reference among that shrouded mass, never mind the hoped-for sighting of anyone he knew. Marula came riding from the north where he knew Osidian and Heart-of-Thunder lay. Leading them, grey-faced Oracles. As they encircled the Lepers, Carnelian suffered acute anxiety that they were going to attack them. He relaxed as soon as he saw the Oracles were doing nothing more than separating off groups of several hundred Lepers who, with a single Oracle in command and some dozen Marula warriors in the vanguard, detached from the throng and set off along the dragon line.
When more signals came from Heart-of-Thunder, Carnelian listened to his Lefthand explaining what Osidian wanted done.
‘This is what you did yesterday?’
‘Just so, Master.’
‘And no sartlar were harmed?’
‘Inevitably, some were crushed…’
‘But the pipes were not used?’
‘Only against some empty kraals, Master.’
Carnelian nodded and relayed the commands to the other two dragons of his cohort. Soon they were pounding across some virgin fields, the Marula and Lepers assigned to them forming horns on either flank, pursuing hapless sartlar that they were trying to encircle.
From Earth-is-Strong’s tower, Carnelian watched the Lepers pour back into the watch-tower camp. As they entered the stopping place they raised a great cloud that glowed in the light of the westering sun. He was troubled. All day he had worked with the Lepers assigned to him. All attempts to coordinate them with the advance of his dragons had led to a shambles. Some riding, others jogging, they had not even managed to keep together. The formations that the Oracles and Marula had attempted to marshal them into had ended up scattered all over the fields. The Marula had been difficult enough to manage from his high vantage point. He could hardly blame them for not understanding the signals flashed to them. Why should they? Even the other two dragons had made mistakes, though these were perhaps a consequence of the recent changes in their crew hierarchies. The dragons, Osidian could deal with. What was concerning Carnelian most was the Lepers. In any fight with auxiliaries, they would be annihilated.
As Earth-is-Strong cruised through the camp and up the ramp onto the road, Carnelian commanded his Lefthand to bring her to a halt short of the watch-tower. His Hands followed him as he descended to the ground. Heart-of-Thunder was sliding alongside the leftway. Marula were dismounting around him. A mass of dragons was moving along the road towards the breach in the leftway. The percussion of their footfalls was producing a constant thundering earthquake. Glancing up at the watch-tower, Carnelian was almost surprised it was not shaking to pieces. He turned west, angling the eyeslits of his mask against the liquid gold sun that was squeezing between the vast black shapes of the dragons as they were marshalled to form a rampart along the edge of the road. Through them he caught intermittent glimpses of the milling chaos of the Leper camp. He needed to talk to Lily.
‘I am going down there,’ he cried above the din.
His Hands grimaced, lifting the flaps of their helmets to hear him better.
‘Down there,’ he shouted, pointing towards the Lepers.
They made to come and stand behind him, but he waved them away. He pointed up to Earth-is-Strong, who seemed a cliff cast from gold, and, with his hands, he made them understand they were to return to her tower and take her to her berth alongside the watch-tower. He watched them begin to ascend the rope ladder and then waited for the last dragon to lumber past before setting off for the ramp.
As he stepped off the ramp, several legionaries rushed up. Before they could kneel, he gestured them aside, declining their obeisance and their offers to escort him. The odour of render was tainting the musky breeze. Looking along the beaked line of dragons, he saw they were being fed. Beneath their prowed heads, marumaga were lighting fires and distributing sacs for their dinner. Carnelian turned to contemplate the Leper multitude, rosy in the sinking sun, and wondered how he was going to find Lily. There was nothing for it but to go and ask someone. He paced slowly towards the Lepers as if they were a colony of seabirds he was anxious not to startle into flight. When shrouded heads turned at his approach, he expected panic, but they merely bent back towards their fires as if he were a ghost they did not want to believe was really there. He went right up to one cluster, coming close enough that he could smell their sweat and the render that they were eating. Towering over them, he asked to be directed to their leaders: to Lily in particular. At first he thought they were not going to answer, but then an arm rose that lacked fingers. He moved off towards the cisterns, to which the stump was pointing. Two legionaries came past, bearing a great waterskin between them upon a sagging pole. He waved them on before they could kneel and they loped past, spilling some water that seemed to turn the earth to blood. Several times more Carnelian asked directions and, each time, a spot near the cisterns was indicated.
He was approaching one clump like any other, thinking he must ask again, when he recognized the breadth of shoulders beneath the shrouds of a hunched figure. One of the Lepers nudged another and all who were round that fire stood up to face him.
‘Master,’ said one with Lily’s husky voice.
Carnelian saw the smoulder in their midst that turned it into a hearth. It made him feel he was intruding. He touched the metal over his face and had a desperate urge to unmask.
‘That’s not the Master, it’s Carnie.’
The voice came from a slim figure, Poppy. All of them save Lily pushed back their cowls: Poppy, Krow beside her, Fern. It was the latter who was regarding Carnelian as if he were an enemy. ‘What do you want, Master?’
Shock made Carnelian unable to speak. Perhaps he should have anticipated Fern’s reaction. What did he know of what his life had been since last he saw him? Raising his hands in appeasement, he was startled by how alien they seemed, sheathed in their pale leather. ‘You’re not warriors-’ He sensed anger in a shifting of Lily’s weight. ‘I’ve come to offer my help to train you.’
Fern’s eyes became a hawk’s. ‘Has the Master given you permission to make this offer?’
Carnelian was stung by that, but chose not to justify himself. ‘I am here,’ he said, simply.
Fern’s contempt spread to his lips. ‘So you want to help us so that we can fight for the Master… train
us as you once trained the Marula…?’
Carnelian felt anger burn his face.
Fern threw his hand out in dismissal. ‘We don’t need your help.’
‘I think you do. If it comes to a battle with auxiliaries, you’ll be annihilated and at no great cost to them.’ Carnelian turned to Lily. ‘Did you bring your people here to give your enemy more victims?’
‘Are you sure it will come to a battle?’
Carnelian turned and saw the speaker was Krow. He paused for a moment, noticing Poppy’s hand upon the youth’s arm. ‘I think it’s likely.’
He turned back to Lily. ‘If you are determined to fight, then I can help you.’
The Leper nodded. ‘We are determined and so’ – she turned towards Fern – ‘we need all the help we can get, Ochre.’
Fern turned away, pulling his cowl back over his face, and returned to sit gazing at the fire.
Carnelian gave a nod of resignation. ‘Tomorrow I’ll ride with you.’
The murmur from the camp rose up with the campfire smoke to the watch-tower platform where Carnelian and Osidian were eating together. ‘I’m going to take personal command of the Lepers,’ Carnelian announced, in a tone that surprised him with its vehemence.
Osidian frowned. ‘Why?’
Expecting a fight, Carnelian was for a moment put off-balance by Osidian’s calm tone. ‘They’re a mess. If we take them out against trained auxiliaries, they’ll be annihilated.’ Osidian’s expression had not changed. ‘That would hardly be of much use to us…’
Osidian regarded him for a moment, then nodded, picked up a hri wafer and put it in his mouth. He chewed it for a while. ‘That’s why I put the Marula in charge of their training.’
‘Today, I saw very little evidence that that’s working.’
‘Today was only the second day of their training.’
Carnelian felt the strength in his position deserting him. He imagined what Fern would think of him if he did not turn up the next morning as he had promised. That caused him to question whether Fern was the only reason he was doing it. His heart told him that Fern was a reason, but not the only one. ‘They need more help than the Marula can provide.’
‘Indeed?’
‘They can’t speak each other’s tongue.’
‘Morunasa’s Vulgate is as good as yours.’
Carnelian almost reached for the justification that he was a Master, but his instincts were against this. It was a cowardly way out and not the truth. ‘The Lepers will not easily take instructions from Morunasa.’
Osidian glanced up at him, but said nothing. He had no need to. Among the Lepers it was only Fern who would not easily take instructions from Morunasa. Osidian looked back to his bowl and selected another wafer. ‘Do as you will.’
Carnelian had no feeling of victory. He felt empty. A constant murmur was rising from the camp. Glancing down, he saw the twinkling campfires. He pulled his cloak about him. Up here the night was cold.
On the leftway with Osidian, Carnelian gazed past the dragons to the Leper multitude. ‘I want to take them out by myself.’
‘Without the huimur?’
Carnelian glanced at Osidian. ‘They need to be forged before they can be used as a weapon. I am sure you have much work you can do with your huimur alone.’
Osidian gave a nod and Carnelian returned to the watch-tower on his way down to the road.
Carnelian gazed at the Lepers. It had been hard enough to get them here from the camp in anything approaching good order, but the sun had had time to climb the sky before Morunasa and the other Oracles had managed to marshal them into an approximation to a battleline.
As Carnelian turned to his companions, several threw their arms up against the dazzle reflecting off his mask. Lily was there with other Lepers, all shrouded. Bareheaded were Fern and Krow and Morunasa. Carnelian regarded the Oracle, wondering if he could work with him. He recalled how, when he had told him he was taking control of the Marula for the day, Morunasa had glanced up to where Osidian was standing on the leftway as if he doubted Carnelian’s authority. Morunasa had obeyed him, had made the Marula do everything Carnelian asked of them, but with a visible reluctance.
‘Ride with me,’ Carnelian said to them all, then coaxed his aquar into a lope along the ragged Leper line. Only the detachments of Marula, each with an Oracle commander, formed a regular pattern along the front. Behind them, the Lepers were a rabble. Fewer than half of them were mounted and, though here and there he could see clumps of auxiliary lances, the air above their heads was predominantly a confusion of hoes and hooks and stone-blade scythes.
He pulled his aquar up. The half-flare of her eye-plumes closing as he turned her. ‘Lily, why are so few of your people mounted?’
‘You’ve reason to know our valleys are more suited to boats than aquar. We mustered all we could find there and in the fortress.’ She made a vague gesture in the direction of Makar.
Krow was nodding. ‘The Master’s been making us take all the aquar we can from the people on the road.’ He scrunched up his nose. ‘But they’re generally rather weedy and there’s not a lot of them and mostly they don’t have saddle-chairs, but racks for carrying stuff-’
Carnelian nodded, noticing how Krow was at Fern’s side, as he had been all day. He wondered how they had resolved their differences. ‘What proportion of your Lepers are mounted?’
‘Perhaps one in three,’ said Lily.
‘And are those good riders?’
Lily shrugged. Fern’s face might have been wood. It was Krow who answered. ‘Competent, Master.’
Carnelian glanced at the Lepers and wondered how long it would take for them to become good enough. He scanned those closest. They certainly did not look comfortable in their saddle-chairs. ‘How are they commanded, Morunasa?’
‘There are as many units as there are dragons, each commanded by one of my brethren. They answer to me.’
‘Is each of these units organized as a single body?’
Morunasa shook his head. ‘Under the Master’s instruction, each Oracle chose three Lepers to directly command. Each of those chose three more. And those, three more and so on until they reached groups of three or four or five.’
‘Does this work, Lily?’
The Leper glanced at Morunasa. ‘No. Many have ended up serving alongside those they don’t know. Many have deserted to be with their friends.’
Morunasa’s lips curled with disgust. ‘It’s been impossible to enforce the Master’s scheme. These wretches all look alike.’
Lily turned on him. Though her shrouds hid her expression, Krow gave Morunasa a look of dislike strong enough for both of them. Fern, whom Carnelian would have expected to dislike Morunasa the most, remained impassive.
‘Morunasa, how do your brethren give their commands to the Lepers?’
Morunasa raised his hands. ‘With these.’
‘What do you think, Fern?’
Fern did not look at him. ‘What do you think I think?’
Carnelian wanted to break through Fern’s impassivity to the anger he was impaled on. ‘I don’t know. Tell me. How were you organized as you came up the Pass?’
As Fern turned his dark eyes on him, Carnelian could see the hurt in them. In return, Fern could see only the gold of his mask. ‘We were organized friend with friend, brother with brother.’
‘No system?’
‘Our settlements vary greatly in size,’ said Lily.
Carnelian’s gaze passed over the Leper crowd as he digested what he had been told. He came to a decision. ‘Morunasa, gather your brethren and all your warriors and ride back to the watch-tower. Tell the Master I’ve no further need of you.’
The Oracle glared at him for a moment and it seemed he was going to say something, then his lips parted in a feral grin. ‘As the Master wishes.’
He rode his aquar along the line crying out something in the Marula tongue. As the warriors began to detach themselves from the battleline, Carnelian turned
back to Fern and Krow, to Lily and the other Leper commanders. ‘Form them up as they were before. Friend with friend. Brother with brother.’
Carnelian swung from the ladder onto the landing. He was glad to see Osidian’s door closed. He had reason to believe he was there in his cell. The dragons had been already in camp when he had returned with the Lepers. He was weary to his bones. His reorganization had not brought the fruits he had hoped. He did not want to have to deal with Osidian until he had had time to rebuild his faith in what he had chosen to take on. Opening the door to his cell, he was relieved to see that the homunculus was still there, sleeping under the effects of the elixir he had made him take. It was the only thing he could have done. It was not practical to take the little man with him and he did not want to run the risk of leaving him behind, awake, unsupervised.
He removed his cloak and reached up behind his head to release his mask. A movement in the corner of his eye made him freeze. There was someone gazing at him from the furthest corner of the cell.
‘Poppy!’
The girl smiled at him.
‘Great Father, what’re you doing here?’
She raised her small hands in a gesture of appeasement. ‘Now don’t be angry.’
‘Don’t be angry?’ he bellowed. Then winced, glancing at the door. The last thing he wanted to do was bring Osidian to find out what was going on. ‘Do you know what could’ve happened if I’d removed my mask?’
‘Nothing,’ she said, grinning.
He raised his hands with fingers splayed, close to screaming at her. She came towards him and reached up to his right hand with both of hers and gently pulled it down, then the other, all the time talking. ‘Now, Carnie, it makes no difference because I want to join your household and your household can look at you, can’t they? You do remember telling me that, don’t you?’
Carnelian grimaced behind his mask. ‘Yes, but we don’t know where all this will end. You’d be locked in.’ His emotions were a mess. ‘Besides, you’ll have to wear my House mark.’
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