When Morunasa and the rest approached the crowd of little men, they crumpled into a juddering, urinating mass from which the ash-smeared arms of the Oracles plucked and pulled out one here, one there. Those selected tottered off to where they stood together in trembling misery. When the Oracles had finished, those that were left fled towards the Ladder, stumbling over each other in their desperation to escape.
The Oracles closed in on those they had chosen and herded them whimpering off to the idol and the impaled man. Carnelian was still watching as the first Plainsmen began coming up from the caves. The tiny men were being driven across the stepping stones and meandering currents, to be swallowed up by the Isle of Flies.
Sick at heart, Carnelian went to watch the loading of the salt. The Plainsmen were helping the sartlar hoist slabs up and over the lip of the chasm. They were carefully wrapped in oily cloth then bound to the backs of the pygmies. Once burdened, each began his descent back into the chasm. Manila stood by, observing everything with an arrogant gaze. When the last slab had been strapped to a pygmy, they casually prodded him down the Ladder with their spears and followed.
The Plainsmen looked miserable, even Krow. Seeing Kor among the sartlar, Carnelian wished he could decide what to do with her. A Maruli appeared beside them. The black giant waited until he had their eyes and then stabbed his spear towards the grotesque idol and made some sounds that might have been speech. He strode away then stopped, turning to beckon them, until, suUenly, Carnelian and the Plainsmen began to follow him.
Osidian was waiting for them beneath the impaled man. On his left stood Morunasa with those Oracles who had not crossed to the island. Manila warriors formed a barbaric backdrop with their bead corselets and their ebony limbs. Shuffling, uncertain, the Plainsmen stood before the Master. Carnelian saw with what cruel eyes he was surveying them. His gaze fell on Carnelian.
'Come, my Lord,' he said, indicating a place at his right hand.
Carnelian felt he was betraying the Plainsmen, but dared not refuse. Under their eyes, he walked to where Osidian had pointed. It made him uncomfortable to be joining Osidian in standing judgement on them.
Osidian turned to him. 'Is there any matter that you might wish to convey to me?' he asked in Quya, as if the two of them were alone.
Carnelian brought his mind into focus. 'Matter…?' He saw Fern's anxious face among the Plainsmen and found it hard not to glance at Ravan. He probed Osidian's eyes, wondering what he could possibly know or guess, and was terrified his face might betray him again.
At that moment a shriek tore the intolerably humid afternoon. An unhuman sound that set Carnelian's teeth to chattering. He turned just enough to catch a view of the Isle of Flies, whose brooding darkness seemed to be pulsing. He registered the terror of the Manila.
'My Lord?'
The elegant Quya wrenched Carnelian's eyes back. 'Did you not hear my -?'
Osidian was cut dead by another cry shrilling across the river. Carnelian felt something die in him.
They're murdering…' he said, lapsing into Vulgate.
'An offering of blood to the Darkness-under-the-Trees,' said Morunasa.
Carnelian was caught in the Maruli's amber eyes.
'Our Lord's hunger must be sated.'
'I grow impatient, Carnelian, for your answer.'
Carnelian regarded Osidian and Morunasa as if he were seeing them for the first time. The difference in their eyes made them brothers. Under no circumstances would he hand over any Plainsman or sartlar to their mercy.
'I have nothing to say to you.'
Carnelian had to withstand Osidian's emerald gaze for several moments before he turned it on the Plainsmen.
'Stand forward those among you who understand Vulgate.'
Fern, Ravan, Krow and others made it to the front. Many behind them were glancing towards the island in horror. Carnelian shared the agony of waiting for the next scream.
'No doubt you all wish to return to your tribes in the mountains.'
When all the interpreters save Fern nodded, Carnelian feared for him.
'You don't want to go, Fern?'
When his friend did not flinch, Carnelian was proud of him, but fearful.
'No, Master,' Fern answered.
'Have you then become so enamoured of this place?' Another animal cry bruised the air. Fern flinched with the other Plainsmen, then shook his head, slowly.
'Perhaps then, it's an attachment to myself that keeps you here? Or perhaps to another?' said Osidian and, as he spoke, he turned his head a little towards Carnelian, who pretended not to understand the implication, for Fern's sake.
'Well, savage?'
Carnelian could feel that his friend was struggling not to look at him.
'Since you will not speak, you shall leave with the others.'
As Fern let his gaze fall, Carnelian breathed his relief that it was not worse.
Krow took a step forward, anxious. 'Master, may I stay with you?'
As Osidian regarded him, the youth's face grew shiny with sweat. He ducked his thanks when the Master gave a nod.
Osidian surveyed the Plainsmen. 'You may return to the mountains to escort your tribes across the plain. Once they are safely in their koppies, I expect you back here. You understand me?'
The would-be interpreters all nodded.
Osidian made a loose gesture taking in the Plainsmen crowd. 'Make sure everyone understands. Any man who does not return here shall have me for an enemy.' He flung out a gesture of dismissal and was turning his back on them when a voice spoke out.
'Shall we return empty-handed to our people?' It was Ravan who had taken a pace forward.
Osidian turned back and regarded the youth, his head at an angle. They examined each other. Carnelian was shocked to see that, even now, Ravan was hungry for Osidian to show him some token of love.
'What did you have in mind?' Osidian asked, as if Ravan were a stranger.
Carnelian saw tears of cold anger in the youth's eyes and could not believe Osidian did not notice them.
'Salt,' said Ravan, as if he were hurling an insult.
Osidian rolled his hand in the air even as he turned away. Take as much as you want.'
That easy concession served only to deepen Ravan's misery. As the Plainsmen began to creep away, the youth lingered, glaring at Osidian's back as if the pressure of his gaze might make him turn back to see him. Fearing for the youth's life, Carnelian was on the verge of himself going to force him to leave when Fern reached out and, gently, turned his brother. Carnelian's eyes meshed with Fern's for a moment before he began guiding Ravan away, leaving Carnelian alone with Osidian and the Marula.
Accompanied by Marula warriors, Carnelian followed Osidian, Morunasa and the other Oracles along the river-path. Soon a procession of them was winding its way across the rocks.
Osidian turned. 'Will you come to the Isle of Flies with me, Carnelian?'
'Why?' Carnelian asked in horror.
To witness certain rituals.'
At that moment another shriek of agony came from the island. Carnelian controlled an instinct to retch. Osidian seemed amused, then began to turn away.
'What's to happen here?' Carnelian blurted out.
Osidian turned back, frowning slightly. Carnelian bore his examination until Morunasa came up.
'Master?' he said, indicating the way across the rocks.
'I shall follow on in a while,' Osidian said without taking his eyes off Carnelian.
Irritation distorted Morunasa's face. 'How will the Master find his way across?'