He looked back at the Darkcloud. ‘We’ll convene a council of war in the koppie of the Bluedancing.’
Men shifted uneasily, gauging each other’s reaction with sidelong glances.
‘Will you trust me?’
Many still looked unconvinced.
Krow rode forward, grim, haunted. ‘When this Master led you before didn’t he help you save your koppie from the Marula?’
They looked to their leaders, who looked at each other. First one then another began nodding. There was not time for Carnelian to feel triumphant. ‘The salt first. We need the drag-cradles cleared to evacuate your people from your koppie.’
Not giving them time to think further he rode back along the convoy and was relieved when they followed him. Everywhere Darkcloud were throwing off the protective blankets to reveal the sparkling white slabs stacked beneath. Carnelian could sense how great was their reluctance to destroy such wealth. ‘Unhitch the drag-cradles,’ he cried.
He allowed Krow to overtake him. ‘Thank you.’
Krow shrugged.
‘Will you ride with me?’
Krow nodded.
‘Well, then, choose forty of the bravest from among those who least fear the Master.’
Krow jerked a nod then rode away. Carnelian gave his attention to instilling confidence in the Darkcloud leaders. Soon they were bellowing orders. At first the Plainsmen lifted the slabs with care. After the first shattered among the meshing fernroots, more followed. Soon their work of destruction took on a fury of its own. Crystals flashed in the air so that the men in the midst of the destruction seemed to be splashing about in water as they ground shards to powder with their heels. Aquar, lifting heads crowned with startled eye-plumes, shied away from the mayhem.
Carnelian rode back towards the sartlar. As he approached they collapsed to the ground grovelling. This added to his disgust. ‘Kor?’
One of the shapeless mounds rose. The hag’s disfigured face slipped free of her mane. He had forgotten how fearfully ugly she was. ‘Will your people be able to keep up with the riders?’
She bowed her head. ‘Master.’
He took that for a yes. Pity overcame his loathing. He wondered why Krow had brought the sartlar from the Upper Reach. It seemed unlikely any would survive what was to come.
Hubbub rushed through the convoy towards him. Looking up, he saw everyone gazing towards the Koppie. Smoke was rising from the Crag. Fear clutched him. It was a signal from Fern. He sped back across a frost of salt to the Darkcloud leaders.
‘Send messengers to all the tribes. All must do what they can for their own protection, then send representatives to a council of war to be held tonight in the koppie of the Bluedancing. Get your own people there with all the djada and water they can gather. If they stay at home, they’ll be trapped between the Backbone and the dragons.’
When he was sure they understood, Carnelian joined Krow and the men he had picked and, with two riderless aquar, he led them at full pelt towards the Koppie.
Smoke rising from the Koppie made Carnelian recall the plague sign on his ride to Osrakum. Ravens disturbed by it swarmed the Crag like flies. He saw his dread mirrored on the faces of the Plainsmen round him. All could see these omens of death.
It was past midday when they reached the Newditch. Fern’s signal had frayed away on the breeze. The ravens had settled once more to their feasting. Carnelian led the Darkcloud up the Southing. When they neared the Southgate bridge they saw two figures, Fern and Poppy, waiting for them. Sthax gleamed behind them in the gloom under the cedars.
The Darkcloud regarded Fern as if he were a living corpse. One bowed his head. ‘May we set foot upon your earth, Ochre Fern?’
Fern gave his leave then turned troubled eyes on Carnelian. ‘Marula approach the Koppie, Plainsmen covering their retreat. Auxiliaries pursue them closely and… dragons.’
‘Any sign of the Master?’ Carnelian asked.
‘A small group is coming up the Sorrowing.’
Carnelian prayed this would be Osidian with his Oracles. Morunasa was sure to be with him and might be their best hope of taking Osidian without a fight. He turned in his saddle-chair and scanned the grim faces of the Darkcloud. ‘We must take the Master alive.’
Colour drained from their faces. Krow looked sick.
‘If he escapes, the dragons will lay waste to every koppie many days’ ride in all directions. If we manage to get his body, the same. Only if we have him living can we hope to survive. Will you help me?’
The Darkcloud looked to their leaders who, after exchanging glances, reluctantly gave Carnelian their support.
‘And you, Krow?’
Chewing his lip the youth gave a nod. Fern stood forward, eyes blazing. ‘I’ll have nothing to do with this murderer.’
Krow withered under Fern’s glare. Carnelian saw with what horror the Darkcloud turned to regard the youth. He had mixed feelings, but owed him a debt. ‘Krow, will you take Poppy with you down to the Old Bloodwood Tree and watch over her?’
Poppy began a protest that Carnelian silenced with a look. ‘Please, Krow.’
He felt a burst of relief as the youth rode up to Poppy, leaning to offer her his hand. Frowning she took hold of it and he swung her up to sit on his lap. Carnelian asked a couple of Darkcloud to go with them, then, after Fern and Sthax were mounted on the aquar he had brought for them, he led them and the remaining Darkcloud round the Homing to the Childsgate, where they all dismounted. As he directed them to conceal themselves in the shadows Carnelian noticed how the Darkcloud stole furtive glances up the hill, how they whispered to each other, how they trod the carpet of cedar needles as if they were afraid to wake the women lying among the roots of their mother trees.
Through the wicker of the Childsgate Carnelian could see riders coming towards them across the Poisoned Field. He drew back to join Fern and Sthax, then glanced round to make sure the Darkcloud were ready. The gate swung open, flooding light into the Grove that flashed and darkened as several aquar rode through. Quickly Carnelian recognized the leading rider by his frame to be Osidian, who was squinting, still blind in the gloom. Carnelian gestured for the Darkcloud to surround the riders, all Oracles. Stepping to block Osidian’s path he pulled his uba down from his mouth.
‘Carnelian?’ Osidian, wrinkling his nose, made Carnelian aware of how filthy he must look. ‘Has Krow arrived with the salt?’
‘Where’s Morunasa?’
‘With the Marula.’
Carnelian had counted on him being with Osidian. What now?
Osidian was frowning. ‘There’s no time for this. Aurum’s almost upon us.’ His eyes darted as he became aware of the encircling Darkcloud. He grew enraged. ‘Get back, Plainsmen, unless you want my wrath to fall upon your kin.’
Carnelian saw the Darkcloud were wavering but, before he could act, Fern was there, thrusting a spear point to within a hand’s breadth of Osidian’s face. Osidian started a little then turned upon Carnelian. ‘Call off your barbarian boy,’ he said in chilling Quya.
The spear point, finding Osidian’s throat, scratched blood when he swatted it away.
‘Another sound and you die, Master,’ hissed Fern through clenched teeth.
Sthax stepped forward with frantic eyes. Carnelian spoke to the Maruli in a soothing tone. When he was sure the man would not interfere, he turned back to Fern. He saw the lust in his face for Osidian’s death. ‘Fern, we need him alive.’ He made a hurried decision. Raising his hand he indicated three of the Darkcloud leaders to remain, then, in a low voice, he told the rest to mount up and take the Oracles back through the gate. The Oracles looked to Osidian for guidance, but Darkcloud spears herded them out of the Grove.
Carnelian was aware of Fern as he addressed Osidian. ‘I’ve destroyed the salt. It’s over.’
Osidian’s eyes became hooded. ‘More treachery, Carnelian?’
Carnelian mastered a burst of anger before he replied. ‘I’m only doing what I should’ve done long ago. If I had, perhaps the Tribe would still be living.’
He turned to Fern. ‘Please, Fern, think of what there is to lose.’
Fern clenched his spear tighter, but backed away enough to allow Carnelian to approach Osidian. Close up his skin looked sallow, moist.
‘Do you still have the worms in you?’ he asked in Quya.
When Osidian looked down at him, Carnelian saw that his eyes were rimmed with shadow. In spite of everything that had happened he did not like seeing him like that. Osidian grinned and his teeth seemed yellow. ‘It is not too high a price to speak to a god.’
Carnelian glanced at the three Darkcloud then at Fern. ‘I’m going to have to leave the Master in your care.’
As Fern’s face crumpled, Carnelian wondered if Osidian would be safe with his friend, but knew he had no choice. ‘Be certain, Osidian, that, if you vex him, Fern and these others will slay you.’
Osidian seemed not to have heard. His eyes had lost their fire and it was as if he was no longer there. Carnelian did not trust that. He reached up to Osidian’s aquar, ready to make it sink should he try to escape. He waited until Fern and the Darkcloud had mounted before signing Sthax to mount. Only then did he himself clamber into his saddle-chair.
‘Where’re you going?’ Fern demanded as Carnelian’s aquar rose.
‘To persuade Morunasa to save the Plainsmen.’
Fern grimaced. ‘What?’
Carnelian did not have time to explain. He made his aquar turn.
‘I’ll come with you,’ cried Fern.
Carnelian looked back. ‘I really need you to keep the Master safe.’
He saw Fern understood: even weakened as the Master was the Darkcloud might not be able to resist his power of command. When Sthax rode through the gate, Carnelian and his aquar slipped into the light after him.
Their aquar churned ash up from the Poisoned Field as they sped across it and down the Sorrowing. As he crossed the Near Sorrowbridge, he saw a wall of smoke ahead. Rising higher than the Koppie’s outer ring of trees, it was approaching like a sandstorm. His feet sent his aquar loping towards it. Soon he was riding parallel to Sthax, then with the Darkcloud, the Oracles in their midst. The faces he could see were stiff with fear. He rode on, watching the smoke fumbling towards them through the trees.
Acrid air caught at their throats as they crossed the last earthbridge out onto the fernland. Behind the billowing mass of smoke rolling towards them lurked mountainous shadows. Carnelian was shocked to find that Aurum had already arrived. Then he was startled when something resembling an arc of lightning came alive behind the veil. A screaming followed, like metal shearing; shrill, unbearable.
Squinting, he searched for Morunasa’s Marula. At the foot of the smoke wall a tide of them was mounding towards him in full flight. Just behind the Marula, partially obscured by haze, he saw Osidian’s Plainsmen. In close pursuit, a crescent of riders was extending its horns out on either flank: knowing Osidian had entered the Koppie, Aurum was attempting to encircle it with his auxiliaries.
Looking round, Carnelian saw the Darkcloud, wide-eyed, gaping. He shouted at them, but they seemed deaf. He rode his aquar into their midst, bellowing: ‘If you want your people to survive, reach the other tribes.’ He pointed at the Plainsmen hurtling towards them. ‘Get as many of them as you can to the Bluedancing.’
Some nodded, confused, then in twos and threes they sped off until only the Oracles were left, and Sthax, who was hunched, uneasy in the presence of his masters. Carnelian gestured for him to follow, then sent his aquar like an arrow towards the oncoming Marula. Sthax was soon riding alongside, a crazed grimace on his face. Glancing back, Carnelian saw the Oracles chasing them. He and they were all flying on the wings of a rising gale that was bending the ferns towards Aurum’s approaching storm. Thunder grumbled in the earth. Another arc of fire flashed into life, wavering as it slid its flame across the fernland, setting it alight; then, even as its screaming reached them, it sputtered and vanished.
Soon the Marula fleeing towards them were close enough for Carnelian to see their rictus grins. He searched and found, at their heart, the ashen faces of more Oracles. Hurtling towards this core he was aware of the Marula warriors crashing past on either side.
‘Morunasa,’ he cried, but his voice was snatched away by the gale.
Morunasa’s Oracles were almost upon him. He slowed his aquar, spun her round, then made her run back the way he had come, letting Morunasa’s Oracles overtake him. Soon when he looked to either side he could see their ashen faces, their yellow eyes wide with terror. He sensed a shape close on his left shoulder. Glancing round, he expected to see Sthax, but it was Morunasa, ravener teeth lining his gape as he shouted something. Carnelian waited until Morunasa had pulled abreast, then leaned across. ‘The Master’s my prisoner.’
Morunasa shook his head, indicating his ears, then slowed his beast and Carnelian followed suit. They came to a halt together as Marula hurtled past them.
‘The Master’s my prisoner,’ Carnelian shouted. ‘Help me and I’ll help you get back your Upper Reach.’
Morunasa regarded him with wild eyes. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Take them into the Koppie.’
Morunasa jerked a nod then whipped his aquar off at furious speed. Carnelian looked for Sthax, but he was gone. He sent his aquar after Morunasa’s in swift pursuit. The sky was darkening, the ground shaking so violently dust was rising up from the earth. Suddenly his shadow was cast stark in front of him. He felt a burning at his back. He turned, squinting against the glare. A column of fire brighter than the sun was gaining on him. Its scream raped his ears as the fire shuddered away. He gaped slack-jawed as a monster emerged from the murk. It was bearing down on him like a great ship. Horns curved up like ivory figureheads. A leprous tower rose from its back, tapering in tiers, rigged, with a mast that thrust a standard like a sail up into the blackening sky. Another high whining scream shocked Carnelian out of his trance. His hand jerked up to shield his eyes from the fire-flash. Through his fingers he could see more arcing liquid-flame carve glowing curves across the ground. Then the scene was lost in sulphurous billows of smoke. Its black wave rolled over him. He was choking. Coughing, he wiped away stinging tears. His aquar lost the rhythm of her stride. He peered at where they were heading. The Newditch magnolias were rushing up. Riders were leaping the ditch like fish. He gritted his teeth. His aquar leapt. They were in the air, the ditch beneath them. Then she landed with a thump that rattled his skull and they were coursing across the ferngarden with the others. A whine chased him. Almost beyond hearing, its pitch slid down to a fearful shrieking. There was a whoosh, then roar. A wall of heat slammed into him. Turning his cheek into it, eyes welling, he saw the magnolias burning fiercely as they had in his dream.