The Standing Dead

'Do you know what to do?' he asked her.

'What the Master commands,' she answered without lifting her head.

Then I say that you and the rest of your kind must repair the Ladder.'

'As you command, Master.'

Her submissiveness irritated him: the Plainsmen looking on turned this feeling to anger.

'How am I supposed to…?' His voice tailed off.

'You're the Master,' the sartlar muttered.

As he walked along the chasm edge, everyone followed him. Peering over, he saw the broken Ladder. At that distance it was just a nest of rope.

'I'll have to go down there myself,' he said.

Krow stood forward. 'I'll go, Master.'

Carnelian smiled at the youth's eagerness. Thank you, Krow, but I need to see the damage for myself.'

As Krow's face fell, Fern spoke up. 'Carnie, you should let him go. He'll be able to tell you what he sees.'

Carnelian was warmed by what he saw in Fern's eyes. His friend fixed him with an intense look. 'If you should die?'

Carnelian understood Fern's fear. If anything should happen to him, how could the Master be thwarted?

'A Master can't die,' said a husky voice.

Carnelian saw the sartlar woman had crept up beside them. He gazed at her, wondering what she meant. He supposed that, to a sartlar, the Masters might well appear to be immortal.

'Let me go, Master,' said Krow.

Carnelian saw Fern's nod and gave way.

They tied Krow to the rope they had used to lower Osidian and Morunasa then, slowly, they lowered him down into the chasm.

After a while, Carnelian turned to Fern. 'Why were you so keen he should go?'

'He's taken the Master's rejection hard. He needs something to distract him.'

Krow had reached the Ladder. Carnelian watched him examine it. i fear he merely wishes to follow the Master.'

'If that's so, isn't it better he should do so with our help than without?'

Carnelian glanced at Fern and saw the truth of it.

Krow was waving. Carnelian gave the order to draw him back up. When the youth appeared over the edge, Carnelian grabbed hold of him. Krow looked pale but pleased with himself. Carnelian waited until he had calmed down a little before asking him to describe what he had seen. Carnelian pondered the problem.

'Have you worked out how to do it?' Fern asked at last.

'I think so,' said Carnelian. He put the back of a fist against the palm of his other hand. 'At the moment, the broken portion of the Ladder is sort of curled like my fist.' He looked at Krow, who confirmed it with a nod. Carnelian allowed his hand to uncurl. 'If we attach ropes from up here we can unroll the Ladder up the cliff high enough to secure it into the forked posts that Krow says have been left in the rock. Attaching ropes progressively higher each time' – his fist uncurled until the hand lay flat against the other – 'we should be able to bring it all the way up here.'

'And what do we do then?' asked Fern. 'We attach it to those anchor trees,' said Carnelian indicating the two baobabs with their rope girdles. 'How?'

Carnelian noticed the sartlar woman was watching his hands. 'We can sort that out once we get there.'

He turned to the sartlar and pushed his hands closer to her. 'You understand this?'

She gave a nod. 'Yes, Master.'

'We'll need lots of ropes, each long enough to reach the Ladder below.'

'We understand,' said the sartlar.

'We'll have to lower your people down there to attach the ropes

…'

She turned her disfigured face up to look at him. 'People?'

He indicated the others of her kind with his hand. She looked round. 'Sartlar,' she said.

'We can use aquar to pull the ropes.'

The woman sunk her head.

'Is there anything the matter?' he asked her.

'Better we should do it, Master.'

He frowned. The Ladder will be immensely heavy.'

She struck the ground with her foot. 'We take our strength from the earth.'

Carnelian shrugged. 'I'll trust you… What are you called?'

The sartlar looked up, her eyes so narrowed the folds almost closed them altogether.

Carnelian grew uncomfortable under that scrutiny. 'You have a name?'

'Kor, Master.'

Carnelian was surprised. In Quya, that sound was the word for death.

'Well, Kor,' he said. 'You'll explain to the other…?' 'People

…?' she suggested.

Carnelian felt off-balance. 'Yes…'

'As the Master commands,' said Kor and falling to her knees, made an abject prostration before him. He waited for her to get up but she lay there as if she were dead.

'You can go.'

The mess of rags came alive and was soon hobbling off towards the other sartlar.

'Disgusting creatures,' Fern said.

Carnelian turned on him. 'Her kind, even more than the Plainsmen, are the victims of the Standing Dead.'

Over the following days, the sartlar went at their task like ants. Krow assumed the role of overseer, but soon gave this up. The sartlar worked seemingly without instruction, though sometimes Carnelian saw Kor moving among them and concluded she must be directing them.

Sartlar were lowered to the Ladder. Heavy ropes were dropped down to them which, once attached to the left cable, were hoisted so that the dangling section of the Ladder ended up folded over the part still intact. Once the pulled-up corner was secured, the ropes were removed and sartlar clambered down the dangling portion to reattach them further down the loose section. Gangs of sartlar held on to each rope and, digging their heels into the soil, heaved the whole mass up. Once raised high enough, the Ladder was made secure and the whole procedure was repeated. The strength of the sartlar amazed Carnelian so that he could almost believe Kor's boast that they were drawing it from the earth.

Confident the sartlar could work without supervision, Carnelian let the Plainsmen linger up on the knoll and took to resting in the shadow of one of the anchor baobabs with Fern. Dozing, they talked about the Tribe, the Koppie, of the life they might have once they were free of the Master.

One such time they fell to discussing how they would kill him. Upset, Carnelian declared that he would do it; that it was his responsibility. Already unhappy about this, Fern was made worse when Carnelian suggested they bring Ravan into their plot.

'Why?'

'Have you seen the way he looked at the Master? He clearly hates him.'

Fern became miserable. The Master still possesses him.'

Carnelian decided he must trust Fern's instinct.

At that moment a commotion broke out. Leaping up, he ran round the tree and saw sartlar being dragged towards the chasm by their ropes. Some who had fallen were being flayed and were forced to let go. The others picked up speed, heading for the edge.

Carnelian ran towards them, shouting: 'Let go. Let go.'

Some did, but others seemed unable to release their grip and the ropes lashed them out into space. Carnelian reached the edge in time to watch them ride the ropes down, down into the chasm. The Ladder hurtled earthwards, snapping free of the posts like cloth tearing buttons. He put his hands over his face as he watched sartlar spinning down through the air. Through his fingers, he saw far below the Ladder holding where it had held before. Its loose portion whipped into the cliff with a thud he could feel coming up through the ground.

'Great Father,' breathed Fern.

Carnelian let his hands fall and shook his head in disbelief, staring as if that might undo the disaster. He heard padding footfalls and turned to see Kor behind him.

'What happened?' he gasped.

She cowered. 'Shall I jump, Master?'

'What?' he cried.

'Punishment,' she whispered.