‘I had understood that agreement fulfilled.’
‘There are things you don’t know.’
Her tone convinced Carnelian she knew to whom she was talking. Its lack of reverence was causing agitation among the legionaries. Carnelian glanced round and saw, anxiously, how closely the silver masks of the ammonites were watching Lily and Poppy.
‘You must leave the way you came.’
‘We must honour our agreement.’
Even through her shroud Carnelian could see the stubborn angle of Lily’s head and it made him angry. He had trusted her to protect Poppy. ‘What possessed you to agree to anything that would bring you and all these others into the jaws of your enemies?’
When Poppy took a step forward and fixed burning eyes on his mask, marumaga moved to intercept her, but Carnelian jerked his hand in a gesture of command that made them retreat.
‘We’re free people,’ said Poppy. ‘Free to decide what risks we take.’
Lily’s bandaged hand clasped Poppy’s shoulder. Carnelian was glad when he saw Poppy accepting its restraint.
‘Everyone here’ – Lily swept her free hand round to take in the crowd – ‘has suffered terrible loss. All are here moved by an implacable hatred of the one who has inflicted those losses upon us.’
Carnelian saw how resolutely the Lepers stood, while the legionaries, who had less to fear from him, cowered in his presence. He could not help feeling proud of these outcasts. If there were to be any hope of reversing this disaster he must know what further agreement they had made with Osidian, but this was neither the time nor the place to ask such questions. There was one question, however, his heart would not be denied. ‘And the Ochre?’
Carnelian followed Poppy’s gaze back into the crowd to where a Leper stood taller than the rest. Seeing him, Carnelian’s heart beat faster.
‘He’s become a commander among us,’ said Lily.
Carnelian regarded Fern’s shrouded form, rejoicing, though wondering how he had so quickly recovered from his burns. Poppy was looking away, a frown on her face. He knew her well enough to tell what passion and anger that bland expression concealed. Had he really believed he could persuade them to merely ride away? How could he have imagined Osidian had not bound them to him with chains not easily broken? He calmed himself. They were here now and if there was nothing else left to him he must do what he could to keep them safe. He thrust from his mind any consideration of the immensity of the forces ranged against them all. He knew there was no place for him here, though he yearned to be with them. To return to Osidian’s side would be to abandon them to the ammonites and the Law. His heart sank as he faced up to his only option. He must return to Aurum’s tower, for it was from there that he could best protect them.
Having made his decision he wanted to tell Poppy and Lily about it. He glanced up, his gaze lingering on Fern’s form among the Lepers. How deeply he desired to approach him. Instead, he raised a hand and summoned the Quartermaster. The man came to kneel before him. ‘Take these people into the barracks of the auxiliaries. Settle them there. Give them food and water.’
Carnelian saw dusk was encroaching. ‘In the morning, equip them with armour, arm them, mount them.’
The legionary glanced round as if counting the Lepers. ‘We have nothing like enough, Master, for all of these.’
‘Then give them everything you have,’ Carnelian said, his voice edged with irritation.
The man punched the cobbles with his forehead. ‘As you command, Master.’
Carnelian turned to leave.
‘Carnie.’
He froze. It was Poppy addressing him. It was unthinkable to address a Master by name and such an intimate contraction betrayed a fatal familiarity. He looked to the ammonites and convinced himself they could not have heard her clearly. Weighing his words he addressed one of them. ‘Make these creatures join the others, silently. Any harm that comes to them shall be visited on you all.’
The ammonites touched their foreheads to the cobbles. Carnelian did not wait to see his commands obeyed lest Poppy attempt to speak to him again. He strode back towards the palanquin. Only when he reached it did he dare to turn. The legionaries had closed ranks behind him and the Lepers were already being herded away. He looked for Poppy, for anyone he knew, but they were an unindividuated mass. The dregs of his hope draining away allowed his fears, his agony of doubt to sicken him so that he felt unable even to lift his head. He glimpsed the palanquin out of the corner of his eye and felt a sudden revulsion at the thought of climbing into its prison. He returned to the legionaries and demanded they bring him an aquar. While he waited he beckoned Sthax and the Marula to approach him and made them understand, remembering to use only gestures, that he wanted them to accompany him. When he was brought a mount, he climbed into its saddle-chair, then, glancing back only to make sure Sthax was following him, he tore out of the cothon with furious speed.
It seemed no time at all before they reached the sanctum bridge. In the failing sun, the gate into the sanctum seemed painted with blood. Carnelian was determined to take Sthax and his Marula through with him. Motioning them to follow, he rode his aquar across the bridge. Loosing a lance from its scabbard, he hefted it and struck against the bronze. As the door opened a crack he urged his aquar forward. It coiled its head back and its delicate hands retracted as if in surprise as its chest shoved the door open. He was forced to duck as they passed into the purgatory. Shrill cries issued from mirror faces that were reflecting the hazy light of flames. Carnelian held his breath against the wreathing smoke. A sinuous lash in his aquar’s neck, a shudder running through its body, made him fear that the narcotic smoke might make it collapse.
‘Open the inner doors,’ he bellowed.
Cries warned that that would breach the purity of the sanctum.
His head was already swimming, but anger kept his focus sharp. ‘Obey me!’
A paler rectangle opened ahead and he urged his aquar towards it. She stumbled, sending censers clattering across the floor, then they erupted into the light. Glancing round to make sure Sthax was still following him, he let his aquar carry him none too steadily down the limestone gully, across the second bridge and up the steps to Aurum’s tower. He felt her tread stabilizing even as his head cleared.
At the tower gate he had no need to issue commands for it opened before him as he approached. He sent his aquar through the gap and, soon, they were loping down the spine of Aurum’s hall of audience. Lanterns were lit here and there like stars. Their glow revealed guardsmen rushing to attend him. In the shadows, figures were rising, approaching him. He felt only loathing for their tattooed faces. He advanced on them and they fell prostrate so that there was a danger they would be trampled by his aquar. Rage rose in him and overflowed. ‘Get you from my sight!’
The way they tried to crawl away disgusted him. An instinct to send his Marula against them rose in his throat like vomit. Then one painted face caught the light and he saw it was only a child. A child in terror. He saw others: girls leading amethyst-eyed boys stumbling from his path. Appalled, he watched them fleeing.
He reined back his mount, ashamed that he was inflicting such terror on slaves. He made the aquar sink and stepped out onto the floor. ‘Stay where you are.’
Everyone fell as if scythed at the knees.
‘There will be no punishment. My wrath is done. You were not the cause of it, merely its victims.’
He approached a guardsman. ‘Are there any chambers here I could use other than those of your Master?’
The man mumbled something. Carnelian urged him to speak more clearly. The man dared to glance up, squinting against the glare of Carnelian’s mask. Carnelian turned his head so that the reflected light moved away from the man’s face.