The grate of the portcullis lifting drew him back into its shadows.
'You're the Master, Suth Carnelian?'
It took a breath or two for Carnelian's eyes to adjust to see the grand-cohort commander standing there. Carnelian removed his blood-ring and offered it.
Eagerly, the commander took it in his tattooed hand and held it up to the light. His whole frame visibly relaxed. He gave Carnelian back his ring. The Twins be thanked, Master. The Sun, our father's been searching for you.'
Carnelian almost groaned. 'When… how long ago?'
'He found my Master gone when he took up residence in this place, yesterday, when the sun still shone through the Amber Window.'
'I must go immediately to my chambers.'
'I'll escort you, Master.'
'Master. Oh, Master.'
The desperate relief in his guardsmen's voices alarmed him. He was dirty, standing there in an ammonite robe, and he had to face his father. The commander was watching him.
Thank you for your escort,' Carnelian said to him.
The man bowed but seemed reluctant to go. 'Your father, Master.'
Carnelian opened his arms so that the commander might clearly see his purple robe. 'Shall I go like this?'
The man's eyes blinked brightly in his half-black face.
'Once I'm properly attired I'll go to him.' He made a sign of dismissal. 'Now go, Ichorian.'
Carnelian turned his back on the commander, waiting to hear him walk away before unmasking and surveying his guardsmen. 'What is it?' he said, not managing to control the irritation in his voice.
They thumped to their knees in ones and twos, like fruit falling from a tree.
‘Stop grovelling,' he said dangerously. 'I'm in no mood for it.'
His anger only caused them to fall flat on their faces. 'Gods' blood!' he spat, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 'I know the Master's been here. What did you tell him?'
When none of them spoke up, he jabbed one of them with his toe. 'Get up, man. Tell me.'
The guardsman looked up, his face twitching. 'Craving your pardon, Master, but… we had to tell him… he is the Master.' 'And…?'
'He demanded to know where you were, Master. We told him we didn't rightly know… we had to tell how long you'd been away… that you'd gone away before.' The man cowered.
'And he was very angry?' Carnelian asked.
The man looked up, tearful. 'He's going to crucify us all.'
Carnelian felt the blood draining from his face.
The man must have seen this because his eyes darted out of sight like a snail's.
Carnelian squatted down. Touched their heads, saying gently, 'Now look at me.' He waited until he had their eyes. 'I won't allow even one of you to be put upon a cross.' He nodded into each face. 'Not one of you.' He stood up. 'Now get me some people. I need to be dressed, and quickly.'
They stood up, and one of them ran off.
'Master?'
He looked at the man expectantly.
'Master, the other Masters of our House…?'
Carnelian frowned. The other lineages?'
The man nodded. They've sent word that they're here and want to meet you, my Master.'
'I've no time for them,' said Carnelian as he moved towards his chamber. Once inside, he let the ammonite cloak slip off his shoulders and hung his head. Now his father.
The Master wishes to be formally attired?'
Carnelian whisked round to see a servant, head bowed, others kneeling behind him. He was sure that they were not part of the household he had left behind.
'You've just come from the coomb?'
That's so, my Master.'
'Why?'
'We were sent to bring the Master a court robe.' The servant indicated the golden suit standing against a wall. Carnelian walked over to it. It was similar to the suit he had worn before but it had different heraldry in the panel running down its front. He touched the chameleons writhing on a field of jades, emeralds and other green stones. Under his fingers their skins were a mottle of pearls. Their black opal eyes blinked. They looked more alive than geckos on a wall. It occurred to him that Fey had talked about sending him such a suit with the first household. He wondered why it had been so long in coming.
'If the Master'll allow, I'll co-ordinate his dressing?'
Carnelian turned to the new servant. 'As fast as you can.' He lifted his arms from his sides and they ran in to disrobe him. 'What news, co-ordinator’
The return of the Master and his son is longed for,' said the man without the slightest movement of his chameleon tattoo.
'Has the servant Tain arrived from the gates?' 'An unchameleoned boy, Master?' Carnelian grabbed the man's shoulders. 'You've seen him?'
The co-ordinator went waxy soft in his hands, melting away as Carnelian released him. 'Y-yes, Master. He was there yesterday, being prepared to come here.'
Carnelian smiled, longing to see his brother's face. He hardly noticed the cleaning, the putting on of the belt of hooks. He climbed onto the ranga and then they locked the court robe round him. They masked him. They built a crown upon his head. When they knotted a scarlet sash around his left wrist he remembered that all the Chosen were in mourning for the God Emperor. He allowed a few more adjustments then, feeling as large as a house, he strode from his chamber to face his father.
YKORIANA
Often I heard her speak
With a voice of angels
Words barbed and dripping poison
The grand-cohort commander was standing with other Ichorians at the entrance to the Sun in Splendour. He looked at the heraldry on Carnelian's court robe and let him pass. The hall was smouldering gold, its walls and pillars catching their light from somewhere round the dais. The pillars did not allow Carnelian to see the dais itself. He stopped, closed his eyes to find composure, then opened them and left the shelter of the columns. He moved in to the centre of the hall and turned to face the dais. On it and beside it were two Masters; three more faced them like frozen flames. These three rose slowly, pivoting round, the skirts of their robes slightly rising. Each face seemed transfused by a beam of light. They could have been angels caught in the act of forming from fire.
Carnelian walked towards them, timing the placing of each ranga to the robe's heavy swing. He could feel their eyes watching him and was aware of the shining ovals of their faces, but his eyes were focused on the enthroned being rising behind them, haloed by a corona of flickering flames. The halo's hub was a Chosen face, his father's, alarmingly gaunt. The eyes were as sunk under the brows as if they were the heads of nails hammered deep into the skull. A hand, drifting up, lifted a sleeve that was a slab of mosaiced gold. Is that you?
The question brought Carnelian to a halt. He watched the hand fall. His father glanced at the other Lords. Carnelian saw it was Aurum beside him and that Imago Jaspar was one of the three, standing with two Masters Carnelian did not know. Each nodded to him and he responded vaguely, his eyes already returning to his father's wary hope.
'I am come, my Lord, at your summons,' his own voice said and almost choked on the words when he saw the bright relief fill his father's face.
'Your father is glad to see you, my Lord son.'