The Standing Dead

He turned and frowned. 'Did I forget something?'

'Us,' said Carnelian with a grin.

Fern glanced at Poppy then into Carnelian's eyes. It was clear to both of them that Fern was going to argue, so Poppy took his hand and began pulling him in the direction of the Bloodwood Tree.

Beneath the angry eyes of the butcher women, Carnelian laboured with Fern heaving offal onto the drag-cradles. They did not talk as they worked; to open their mouths was to swallow flies.

As they waited for the next pile of entrails, Carnelian's eyes were drawn to Poppy, sitting in the shade nursing her tattooed hand.

'She's young,' said Fern. 'Her hand will soon heal and then she'll forget.'

Carnelian turned to look at his friend. 'She only has a year.'

'A year can seem a lifetime to a child.'

They both knew Fern might only have the same time to live. Carnelian gazed at his friend, loving him. He fought the desire to tell him. Why burden Fern even more? How could it ever come to something?

'Hey,' said a woman to get their attention. They returned to their work.

The hatred some in the Tribe feel towards you will fade,' said Fern.

Carnelian frowned, thinking of his own death, then remembered to nod.

Later, in the shade of the Bloodwood Tree, Fern confessed the dreams he had had of seeing his daughter growing up. Carnelian nodded, but was not listening as he watched Poppy returning with their food and water. His mind filled with visions of the woman she would become labouring in some palace on the shores of the Skymere in Osrakum. If she were to fulfil her promise of beauty, she would most likely be taken to bed by a Master and then, perhaps, like Ebeny, become mother to a brood of marumaga. She was destined to have much the same memories of the Earthsky Ebeny had had and told him of. He prayed then that somehow Poppy would be chosen from the flesh tithe for House Suth and become a part of his father's household, where she might find Ebeny. Carnelian determined that that evening, while he still could, he must tell Poppy about Ebeny; he must empty as much knowledge as he could into the girl in the hope that, when the time came, it might help her adapt to her new life among the Standing Dead.

The sun was a gouged eye when one of the women called out: 'Hunt returning.'

Carnelian's head jerked up. Coming through the Horngate was a front of aquar from behind which rose the hump of the earther they were dragging. A single rider rode before them who, by his size, could only be Osidian. Carnelian's heart jumped up into his throat. He scanned the riders behind Osidian for Ravan, but because all were shrouded, he could not tell if the youth was there. Why was Osidian putting himself in danger? Looking round, Carnelian saw the agitation among the women standing round the Elder in charge. Two girls were already running back up to the Grove, no doubt to fetch men to attempt Osidian's capture. A warning was in Carnelian's mouth, but he swallowed it. He would not save Osidian at the cost of the Tribe.

Osidian came on so that Carnelian and Fern were forced to back away from his aquar. Nothing could be seen of him but the slit of black skin holding the emeralds of his eyes. Carnelian was pinned by their scrutiny and felt they were reading his heart.

'You missed the party,' he said.

'My Lord is being uncharacteristically flippant’ said Osidian in Quya.

Carnelian looked past him towards the approaching riders, trying to count them.

'All are there, my Lord.'

Their hearths will be glad to see them returned safely.'

Their hearths will not see them. They are mine, now.'

Carnelian recoiled from the cold Quyan verb that was used to denote the owning of slaves.

'Come with me now, Carnelian.'

'I cannot. Akaisha has my promise that I will not leave the Koppie.'

'Perhaps you should fear the consequences that might come from keeping promises to savages.' 'You threaten Ravan?'

'Why would I hurt the boy when he has proved himself such a willing catamite.'

Carnelian felt as horrified as when he had discovered that Jaspar had similarly used his brother Tain. Osidian was not describing love.

'You did this to wound me?'

Osidian laughed. 'I merely take my pleasure where I can find it.'

Carnelian almost leapt forward to pull Osidian down. He calmed himself. 'Let's not fight.'

The black of Osidian's robe and uba were crusted with blood. 'You must be weary. Surely you desire to wash. Come up to our hollow, rest in the shade and we can sort things out.'

'Would recent events not make such a course of action rather perilous?' 'Perilous?'

Osidian watched the women creeping closer. 'I do not see a warm welcome in their eyes.'

Carnelian felt he had no choice but to put everything into one final appeal. 'Osidian, if you value our lives, our only chance lies in throwing ourselves on the mercy of the Elders.'

Osidian laughed without humour. 'Your counsel then, my Lord, is that I who was to have been God Emperor should grovel at the feet of savages?'

At a motion of his hand, two riders came up to flank him. Carnelian saw behind them, the earther looming near. A woman Elder approached the corpse and made a show of examining it. 'How did so few of you manage to keep her safe from raveners?'

One of the riders turned in his chair. 'One who dared attack left much of his blood soaking into the ground before he fled the Master's spear.'

Carnelian recognized Krow's voice.

'Reconsider, my Lord,' Osidian commanded.

Carnelian shook his head.

'Very well. You know what to do, Ravan?'

The second of the two riders bowed his head.

Osidian turned his aquar and rode away. Carnelian addressed the youths and cried out: 'You betray the Tribe.'

'Where the Master leads, we follow,' said Krow, then swung his aquar round and sent her chasing after Osidian. The half a dozen riders who had been pulling the earther dismounted, unhitched the ropes from their crossbars and were soon up and heading after him.

Only Ravan remained.

'Why're you still here, Ravan?' growled Fern. 'Can't you see your master riding away?'

Ravan pulled his uba down, tucked it under his chin and looked down at his brother with his black hunter's face. 'I come with his message for the Elders.'

Fern grew angry, grabbed his brother's foot and yanked it. Ravan bared his teeth as he kicked free of Fern's grip. 'His words are for the ears of the Elders alone… brother.'

Seeing the violence threatening to erupt between them, Carnelian took hold of his friend's shoulder. 'Come on, Fern, let him be.'

Fern threw his hand off. 'Let him be?' He turned on his brother. 'Did you even care that the Gatherer might have taken me; that we might never again have seen each other?'

Ravan regarded his brother with a blank expression but his eyes were uncertain.

They marked Leaf, but I don't suppose that will concern you much.'

Frowning, Ravan rocked his feet on his aquar's back and she carried him off towards the Grove at a bouncing lope.

In deepening dusk, Carnelian hand in hand with Poppy was following Fern as they all returned wearily to the hearth. Osidian's appearance had spoiled what might be their last day together. The men who had gone to escort the Gatherer to the next koppie would most likely have returned. The moment they did, the Elders would assemble. With Osidian abroad, what choice had they but to kill the Standing Dead. Akaisha might manage to save Carnelian but he would not, even now, allow Osidian to die alone. Everything was ruined. Carnelian could not even smell the perfume of the cedars because of the odour of butchery clinging to him.

When they reached their rootearth, they saw a single silhouette sitting on the men's bench.