The Chosen - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 01 (27 page)

'I recall a mention of palanquins, of the Legate's banners.'

'It has become necessary, my Lord, that we should adopt a different disguise,' said Aurum.

'Why did the palanquins fall out of favour?'

'We can no longer risk using the leftway,' said Suth.

'Why by the Two can we not, my Lord?'

'We have reasons to believe that were we to do so we should be attacked,' said Aurum.

These reasons were no doubt contained in the Clave's letter?' Vennel waited for confirmation but received none. 'Do these reasons justify this preposterous choice of route?'

'Many eyes would have seen us leaving the tower if we had joined the road, there,' said Suth.

Vennel pointed up the valley. This will bring us up onto the road, no doubt?'

'It will, my Lord.'

Carnelian could see Vermel's fury in the cast of his shoulders.

'What is this new disguise, my Lords, this wonderful concealment that will draw a veil of shadow over the eyes of our enemies?'

Aurum indicated the
Marula
. 'We will hide ourselves among these barbarians.'

Vennel looked at the
Marula
as if he were counting them. These creatures are of a type rare within the borders of the Commonwealth. Do my Lords think it wise that we should attempt to conceal ourselves in such a conspicuous hiding place?'

'
Marula
are rare, my Lord,' said Aurum, 'but here, by the sea, black men from round the coast are not unknown. We shall masquerade as chieftains making a trade pilgrimage to the Guarded Land.'

'One had understood the coastal blacks to be far more diminutive than these
Marula
.'

Suth broadened his shoulders. 'My Lord is not listening. Black men are uncommon on the road and thus few will know enough to make a distinction between their kinds.'

Vennel nodded. 'My Lords seem to have woven their schemes with some care. I can only wonder why I was excluded.'

'I too,' said Jaspar, but Carnelian noted that his voice held no edge of resentment.

Vennel’
s mask turned its imperious gaze on him. 'You seem not much concerned, my Lord.'

'We are here now. It would seem foolish, not to say unpleasant, to return down this valley.'

The Ruling Lord Suth and I thought it more prudent that we should keep our own counsel,' said Aurum.

Vennel made a gesture of exasperation. This prudence was not, it seems, extended to the Legate of the Tower in the Sea.'

'We needed his assistance,' said Suth.

'A great quantity of it, my Lord, judging by our collar-less and poisoned escort and these starvelings with their grimy chairs, not to mention the cut-down ranga. Tell me, Aurum, how did you persuade our dear Legate to give you so much assistance? Did you perhaps bind him to your cause with the promise of one of your blood-high daughters?'

Aurum opened his hands in a threat gesture. 'Perhaps my Lord should consider choosing his accusations with more care.'

Vennel turned away to look at Suth. 'What of the much-vaunted need for haste, My-Lord-who-goes before?'

There is still time enough to reach Osrakum before the election,' said Suth.

'One more question, my Lord.' Vennel leaned towards Suth. 'Who are these enemies so terrible that they can force Lords of the Great to hide like thieves?'

'A conspiracy among the Lesser Chosen.'

To which, no doubt, our friend the Legate is totally immune?'

'Do you think we apprised him of all our plans?'

'And from all this caution can one conclude that these conspirators might dare to breach the Blood Convention?'

Aurum moved closer to Vennel. 'It seems that they might indeed attempt our lives, Lord Vennel, and so it behoves us all to show great care. These are evidently very desperate people. You do understand, my Lord?'

Their two masks reflected each other's for a moment.

'Only too well, Ruling Lord Aurum,' said Vennel.

Looking from one to the other, Carnelian could almost see the anger passing between them. He was sure more had been said than had been in the words.

Something touched his shoulder. It was his father.
Follow me,
his hand signed. Carnelian clacked after him though he was reluctant to be alone with him. Crail's blood flooded between them like a river.

Carnelian
and his father stood on the weir and looked down the valley to the sea.

'Behold Thuyakalrul,' said Suth.

There it lay, beguiling like a ring: the Grand Harbour a paler region of the sea within its circle; the inner harbour of the tower a tiny winking jewel.

This sea is a strange wealth,' his father said.

Carnelian wrinkled his nose as he thought of the stinking purple dye.

Suth pointed to where the coast, curving round into hazy distance, was inlaid with tiny mirrors. There lie the pans in which the yellow-salt is made with which we buy soldiers from the Lower Lands. The sun's ardour distils it from the sea and the Chosen use its currency to buy barbarian blood. Is it not a paradox that a few holes in the ground should yield up such conquest?'

Carnelian played with his fingers.

The Quyans came to these lands across that sea,' his father said. The Wise maintain it was the sea that was the mother of the Quyan race. They claim for evidence the colours of our Chosen eyes that constantly reflect her.'

Behind them there was a mutter of voices. The aquar were fidgeting.

His father looked back at the other Masters. 'We cannot risk being divided, you and I.'

Carnelian stared seawards but saw nothing. His eyes were searching inwards, seeking a way out of the prison of his anger.

'I did all I could to save Crail,' Suth said quietly.

'If you did, my Lord, it was evidently not enough,' said Carnelian. The words were out before he could recall them. He felt his face burning against the metal of his mask. He could taste his words' venom. He felt his father turn towards him.

'Henceforth, my Lord, always wear your gloves. A single pale, symboled hand could betray us all.'

As his father strode off to join the others, Carnelian lingered frozen by the coldness in his voice. He knew it was unfair to blame him but he could not help it. The bile rose in him as he told himself that it was his father's weakness that had consigned Crail to his terrible death.

The
Marula
had returned and were standing in the deepest shade. Apart from their outlines all that could be seen of them was their amber sliver eyes. Carnelian watched his father move towards them. He could not hear his words but saw the way the black men quaked. They scurried out among the aquar and began to unbale baggage from one of them.

Carnelian walked car
efully back on his ranga shoes,
avoiding his father. The
Marula
were tying all kinds of shoddy objects to the saddle-chairs. Carnelian came up to his chair and fingered the gourds, the filthy feathered bags, coils of rope, a wood harpoon.

The barbarian has such a childish liking for clutter and whimsy,' said Jaspar as he gingerly poked the objects hanging round his chair. Carnelian watched him wipe his gloved hand against his cloak. Vennel was standing looking up the valley. His mask gave him a look of contemptuous detachment.

Carnelian managed a better vault into his saddle-chair than he had before. He cursed when he found that he had trapped a corner of his cloak under him. Some contortions were needed to release it before, at his signal, his aquar rocked him back into the air. He made sure to see Tain scrambling back up into his place amongst the baggage.

As they set off Carnelian took a good look at the bracelets that covered the forearms of the
Marula
. After what his father had said, he decided that they were not bone but bitter salt.

The
GREAT SEA ROAD

A hundred days to the sea

Along the high white road

But I shall fly there with the wind

To leave behind this land of dusts.

(extract from the 'Lay of the Lord of the Sea')

Shoals of people slipping past, scraping, scuffling. Dense rafts of bales, of poles and palanquins, floated in the flow. Wheels taller than men drove irresistibly round like mill stones. At a command, the Marula scrabbled down the slope, making the throng a shadow procession behind their kicked-up dust.

'Conceal yourselves,' cried Aurum, 'sit low in your chairs to disguise your height.' Then his aquar was stumbling down into the rolling ochre air. In front of Carnelian, a cloud billowed up. He pulled his cowl forwards as it broke over him. His aquar's plumes
rustled
as he urged it down into the haze. Every step jarred the saddle-chair. The grind and creaking grew louder with the babble of voices and the clatter of stone bells.

He broke through the dust and pulled his aquar up. The river had faces. He p
eered from one to another. Some
were dark, some painted, some cried, some laughed. Across the eddy of heads something floated like a broken ship: a wreckage of wood and canvas held together with ropes. He watched it totter back and forth, waving above it a tatter of flags.

'Hey, you! Get on or get out of the way,' came a cry from behind him.

Carnelian peered round the edge of his saddle-chair but could make no sense of what he saw. A huge wedge of bone swayed ponderously from side to side, tapering down to a cruel beak. Horn stumps curved out from the four corners of the wedge. Behind all this more bone fanned out into a fluted crest.

'Out of the way, barbarian, or by the horns I'll run you down.'

A small man was creasing hi
s belly against the crest's mottl
ed edge. A tarpaulined mound rose behind him, criss-crossed with thongs. The man was piercing-eyed and grimacing as he shook his hooked goad at
Carnelian
.

Something impacted the side of his saddle-chair.
Carnelian
whisked round. The reins were snatched from his hand. He saw the cowled figure of one of the Masters lean back into his seat to yank them taut. Carnelian's aquar went with the tugging.

Try and be more careful,' his father said angrily in Vulgate.

The rebuke stung
Carnelian
. A smell like malt distracted him from any outburst. He turned to see bronzed hide flexing. His chair shook as he watched the monster lumber by. A wagon pole juddered past like a battering ram. Then the edge of a solid wheel of wood rolled into view, its splintered rim turning slowly. It lurched into a rut, causing Carnelian's aquar to flare its eye-plumes. He was shaken around in his chair as the creature recoiled.

Carnelian
saw the other Masters nearby, waiting for the wagon to pass. He moved towards them, recognized Jaspar by his gloves and drew close to him. 'Was that a dragon?' he shouted in Vulgate over the noise.

'What?' the Master shouted back. 'No, no, only one of its smaller cousins.'

The movements of their aquar separated them. Suth was making the party form up.
Carnelian
was directed into place with curt gestures. Resentment burned up in him. His father was treating him like a child.

The Marula sculled a way into the throng with the hafts of their lances. The Masters and baggage animals waded in after them. The Marula dug a space in the middle of the road then fell back to shield the Masters with their bodies. The inexorable march swept them all in its tide off into the south.

Drab drifts of barbarians jabbered like birds. Chariots studded with shell buttons snaked streamers. Strings of smaller half-feathered aquar carried nests of clutter. Sawn-horned huimur clacked stone bells, their backs like upturned boats. Some had howdahs, some were snail-shelled with trussed goods, some pulled carts or painted wagons. Carnelian's mood brightened. He indulged his curiosity and looked at everything. It surprised him that the road's two streams slid so smoothly past each other. One was going to the sea, the other coming from it, penetrating deeper into the Naralan. He peered to front and back to see their march swallowed at both ends by hazing horizons. Swarthy hawkers clamoured at the edges of the road waving their meagre wares. Children threw stones, stared, pointed laughing. The sun-baked land behind was patterned with spaced trees. Boulder-bordered tracks scratched off into the hinterland. The land folded distantly into vague hills or crusted here and there into clusterings of hovels.

Carnelian wondered at the narrow track that ran alongside the road beyond a ditch. In some places this was paved but he saw nothing move along it. He deduced it to be the much-vaunted leftway. It did not impress him much until he saw a tower up ahead with its stiff banners. As it came closer he realized it was a fort standing by the road. The banners turned out to be gibbets hung with the tatters of flesh and bone the birds had left. Behind the fort, churned earth spread as far as he could see. Charred spots and litter showed that the land had held a huge encampment.