He reached the place where Fern was lying. Krow was there, resting against a stalagmite. Poppy was nowhere to be seen. The youth looked up at him. It must have been the expression on Carnelian’s face that made him jump up. ‘Carnie?’
Carnelian saw the youth’s alarm, but could only manage a slight smile of reassurance. ‘We’re going east from here following a route to the Guarded Land.’
‘And we’re staying behind,’ said Krow.
Carnelian nodded. He looked down at Fern. ‘He certainly can’t come with us.’
‘And Poppy?’
Carnelian raised his head and saw how sick Krow looked. ‘Where I’m going there’s no place for her. You must see that’s true.’
Krow nodded.
‘And you must stay with her. I sense that that’s what your heart wants too.’
Krow looked very young, his face expressing his feelings even as he strove to hide them.
‘I’ve found a place for you among these people. They’re not so different from Plainsmen. They’re clean. Their leprosy is mostly a disguise they wear to protect themselves from others.’
Carnelian was not sure Krow was taking all of this in. He wanted to do what he could to give the youth back his pride. ‘You know I love her too. I’m not allowing myself to feel how much it’ll hurt me never to see her again, but it’ll lessen my pain to know that you’ll be here to take care of her.’
Krow surfaced from his confusion to gaze at Carnelian, checking to make sure he meant it. Then his face crumpled, close to tears. ‘She’ll never forgive me,’ he whispered. ‘Never.’
Carnelian moved to him and took his face in both his hands so that Krow was forced to look him in the eyes. ‘That’s not true, Krow. She’s loyal to the memory of the Ochre, but growing in her heart is the knowledge that, whatever part you played, you did so unwillingly.’
Krow was looking at him through tears. He began mumbling, but Carnelian hushed him. He let go of him and stood back. ‘I don’t need to know anything. I don’t want to. I have my own guilt to atone for.’
He looked down at Fern. ‘Even he’ll forgive you in time.’
Carnelian felt suddenly weary. The pain was beginning to leak through his control and there was still worse to go. ‘Tell me where she went, Krow.’
‘She wandered off towards the cave entrance.’
With a heart that seemed crumbling stone Carnelian went to find her.
Light from the fires did not reach the entrance and so Carnelian had to feel his way. The rock was cold under his hands, smooth as bone, but wet. The floor was ridged and whorled, so that he almost felt as if he were creeping across some vast Plainsman Ancestor House. Curves and surfaces became visible ahead, gradually, as if rising from the bottom of the sea. Then he saw a luminous aura whose stone-toothed edge made him realize it was the entrance. It grew brighter with each step. Reaching the opening he could feel the moth-wing touch of the night air upon his face. Stars were the source of all the light. Dark walls funnelled into the Pass. Down on its floor he spotted the tiny jewel. A phosphorescent mote in the deep: Aurum’s camp.
‘You’re leaving us behind.’
Carnelian jumped. ‘By the horns.’
He searched for Poppy and saw her face against the rock as if it had been carved there.
‘Where we’re going, even I might not survive. If I do I’ll be returning to the Mountain.’ Carnelian thought of making some vague promise that, once there, he would send agents to seek her out and bring her to him, but that was a commitment so threadbare it was indistinguishable from a lie. He wanted her to say something, anything. Silence was unbearable. ‘You know I’d stay if I could, but if I’ve learned nothing else I’ve learned there’s no place for any of the Standing Dead out here.’
A silence fell in which he could hear the beating of his heart.
‘Aren’t you going to tell me, Carnie, that I need to stay here to look after Fern?’
The coldness in her voice chilled him. Almost he told her all about Lily so that Poppy might understand the Lepers were not monsters. Almost he spun for her a vision of what her life might become. Almost, but the silence had grown so deep he knew his words would drown. So instead he sat down to watch the night with her.
They watched until a full moon appeared above the black wall of the Guarded Land. So cold and bright its stare, it was easy to believe it was blinding them.
LEPERS’ LADDER
The population of a city can be considered to be composed of three categories: the administrative, the productive and the verminous. The latter two categories form a naturally fluid category and thus should not be considered as distinctive, but rather as polar. The verminous consists of beggars, thieves, lepers and other unproductive elements. Elimination of this category, while theoretically possible, would be inimical to the efficient operation of a city. Not only does control of the verminous provide a visible function for the administrative, but also its existence provides a salutary reminder to the productive of the depths to which it can fall. Additionally, the verminous, being parasitic on the productive, weakens it. Thus, the administrative must suppress the verminous only as far as is necessary to maintain the required level of urban order. This level shall be set dynamically by the local quaestor though subject to this Domain, particularly whenever it is necessary to coordinate suppression across a number of cities.
Carnelian was shaken awake by a shadow looming over him. ‘We’re leaving.’
It was Osidian. Carnelian realized he was lying against one wall of the cave mouth. He must have fallen asleep there. Dark shapes were shuffling past. The characteristic silhouettes of the Marula: round heads followed by the spike of their corselets. Lances shook above them like a thicket of reeds. Beyond them indigo sky announced the near expiry of the night.
Osidian’s shadow shifted and offered him a lance. Carnelian took it and pulled on it to help him stand, groaning at his stiff back. He looked for Poppy, but could see no sign of her in the darkness at their feet.
‘The girl’s not here,’ said Osidian.
‘I must say goodbye to her.’
Osidian pointed down into the Pass. ‘There’s no time.’
Carnelian looked and saw the glimmer of Aurum’s camp stirring. Osidian took hold of his arm. ‘We must be far from here before the day lights these cliffs and betrays us.’
Carnelian twisted free and went into the cave. He walked back along the file of the Marula as they exited the cave. What little light was filtering past them from the cave mouth soon gave out. For a while he was a blind man feeling his way with the haft of his lance. Then his eyes adjusted to the gloom and he found he could move more quickly. Fern was lying where he expected. A figure rose to meet him. Krow.
‘Where’s Poppy?’
‘I thought she was with you.’
Carnelian could hear the anxiety in the youth’s voice. He shared it. He cried out her name. Echoes boomed and faded. There was no answer. ‘She couldn’t be so stupid as to try to follow me.’
The silence that fell between them gave a lie to such certainty. Carnelian’s anxiety flared into anger. The sight of Fern lying as if dead steadied him. He knelt and gazed at him. There was not enough light to see his face, but Carnelian knew well enough what it looked like. Stooping over Fern he found his lips and kissed them. He pulled away and, for a moment, listened to the rhythm of Fern’s breathing. He rose.
‘What shall I tell him when he wakes?’ Krow asked.
Words flitted through Carnelian’s mind. Clenching his teeth he silenced them.
A shape materializing near them made Krow jump. It was a Leper, perhaps Lily. ‘Master, you’re about to be left behind.’