The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (104 page)

'Kor, Master.'

Carnelian was surprised. In Quya, that sound was the word for death.

'Well, Kor,' he said. 'You'll explain to the other ... ?' 'People ... ?' she suggested.

Carnelian felt off-balance. 'Yes ...'

'As the Master commands,' said Kor and falling to her knees, made an abject prostration before him. He waited for her to get up but she lay there as if she were dead.

'You can go.'

The mess of rags came alive and was soon hobbling off towards the other sartlar.

'Disgusting creatures,' Fern said.

Carnelian turned on him. 'Her kind, even more than the Plainsmen, are the victims of the Standing Dead.'

Over the following days, the sartlar went at their task like ants. Krow assumed the role of overseer, but soon gave this up. The sartlar worked seemingly without instruction, though sometimes Carnelian saw Kor moving among them and concluded she must be directing them.

Sartlar were lowered to the Ladder. Heavy ropes were dropped down to them which, once attached to the left cable, were hoisted so that the dangling section of the Ladder ended up folded over the part still intact. Once the pulled-up corner was secured, the ropes were removed and sartlar clambered down the dangling portion to reattach them further down the loose section. Gangs of sartlar held on to each rope and, digging their heels into the soil, heaved the whole mass up. Once raised high enough, the Ladder was made secure and the whole procedure was repeated. The strength of the sartlar amazed Carnelian so that he could almost believe Kor's boast that they were drawing it from the earth.

Confident the sartlar could work without supervision, Carnelian let the Plainsmen linger up on the knoll and took to resting in the shadow of one of the anchor baobabs with Fern. Dozing, they talked about the Tribe, the Koppie, of the life they might have once they were free of the Master.

One such time they fell to discussing how they would kill him. Upset,
Carnelian
declared that he would do it; that it was his responsibility. Already unhappy about this,
Fern
was made worse when
Carnelian
suggested they bring Ravan into their plot.

'Why?'

'Have you seen the way he looked at the Master? He clearly hates him.'

Fern
became miserable. The Master still possesses him.'

Carnelian
decided he must trust Fern's instinct.

At that moment a commotion broke out. Leaping up, he ran round the tree and saw sartlar being dragged towards the chasm by their ropes. Some who had fallen were being flayed and were forced to let go. The others picked up speed, heading for the edge.

Carnelian
ran towards them, shouting: 'Let go. Let go.'

Some did, but others seemed unable to release their grip and the ropes lashed them out into space.
Carnelian
reached the edge in time to watch them ride the ropes down, down into the chasm. The Ladder hurtled earthwards, snapping free of the posts like cloth tearing buttons. He put his hands over his face as he watched sartlar spinning down through the air. Through his fingers, he saw far below the Ladder holding where it had held before. Its loose portion whipped into the cliff with a thud he could feel coming up through the ground.

'Great Father,' breathed
Fern
.

Carnelian
let his hands fall and shook his head in disbelief, staring as if that might undo the disaster. He heard padding footfalls and turned to see Kor behind him.

'What happened?' he gasped.

She cowered. 'Shall I jump, Master?'

'What?' he cried.

'Punishment,' she whispered.

He understood and groaned. 'No. No, Kor. I'm sure it's not your fault.' He turned back, blaming himself. 'One of the forked posts must have given way. So much loss of life.'

There're still enough of us, Master.'

He turned on her and the outrage in his face made her collapse. 'Do you feel nothing over the loss of your people?'

Kor peered up at him. He saw behind her other sartlar nursing limbs, knees and heels bloody where they had ripped furrows in the earth. He looked down at Kor.

'Send the unwounded down to see if there're any people that can be helped.'

Kor nodded slowly, looking at him through her curtain hair.

'Shall we start all over again, Master?'

He looked off over her head. 'Perhaps ... but not today and not until the wounded have had a chance to recover and, then, only if there remain enough of you.'

She stood up never taking her eyes off him. She seemed troubled.

'Is there anything more, Master?'

'Nothing,' he said.

She bowed. 'As the Master commands.'

Work resumed the following day. Laboriously, the sartlar pulled the Ladder straight again. If Carnelian had not shared their life as a slave upon the road, he might have been surprised they worked with so little fear, but he knew their lives were worthless.

In the gory sunset, Carnelian took one last look down the chasm wall and saw the Ladder had been brought so high it folded at no great distance below him. Kor had come to him saying they could finish it by night with torches, but fearing another disaster, Carnelian told her they should finish the work the following day when they would all be rested. He watched them crawl down to the saltcaves before walking back towards the anchor trees. He strummed a note from one of the ropes he had insisted they leave attached to the fold in the Ladder as a precaution should one of the forked posts fail. Fern stood by one of the anchor trees running his hands over its cable girdle.

'What are you doing?' Carnelian called out.

Fern grimaced. 'I can't see how the cables are going to be long enough to reach these trees.' He showed Carnelian where the cable had been sawn through. They'll have lost all the length you can see wrapped around this trunk.'

Carnelian considered the problem. He walked round the tree, squinting at the girdle in the failing light. 'Is this made from one continuous piece?'

Fern said it was.

Then we shall have to unwrap it and somehow or other attach it to its original cable.' 'How?'

Carnelian stood back and allowed his gaze to run up the trunk. He noticed a narrow opening in the bark high above. He pointed up at it. This one's hollow too.'

Fern looked at it. Then ...' he said, his hands searching the bark. 'Aha,' he said and hung himself from a crevice. 'All the hollows have handholds up to them.'

'Another burial?'

Fern shrugged. 'Climb and see.'

Carnelian gazed up. 'Why not,' he said. 'I'm curious to see these husk pygmies.'

Fern guided Carnelian's hand to the crevice and he found another slightly higher to the right of the first. It took him a while to find some for his feet.

'You forget how small a man this was made for,' said Fern from behind him. 'You should take them two, maybe three at a time.'

Taking his advice, Carnelian began climbing the tree.

As he neared the opening he became aware of an unpleasant smell. He screwed up his nose and looked down at Fern.

'I think the bodies in this one are more recent than the others.'

He reached up to the lip of the hole, then pulled himself up into the hollow. Crouching on its edge, he covered his nose and mouth with his hand. It was too dark to see anything. He leaned out.

'Fern, could you bring me some fire to see by?'

He heard his friend running off and waited, feeling the moist breath of whatever it was that lay within the tree. It seemed an age before he saw the shaking flicker of Fern returning.

'Shall I come up too?'

'What about the fire?'

Grinning, Fern wedged the brand between his teeth and began to climb. Soon the flames were blinding Carnelian.

'Here, take it,' said Fern.

Carnelian reached down and plucked the offered branch, carefully, drew its fire past his squinting eyes and pushed it into the hollow. What he saw made him start.

Fern cried out: 'What's the matter?'

Carnelian made space for his friend to squeeze in beside him. A dark pool filled the hollow, its surface broken by a face the size of a child's.

'Perhaps the rain got in,' Carnelian suggested.

'I don't think so,' said Fern. He took the branch from Carnelian's hand and waved it over the pool. *See how thick the liquid is?'

'Like soup.'

'Render.'

Carnelian looked at his friend, whose face was luridly lit by the flames.

'Render: the stuff they fed us in the legions. It's given to men and aquar and, I heard, the dragons too. Jellied animal flesh, fat and bone. Didn't much care for it myself, though it was extravagantly laced
with salt.. A veteran told me I’
d grow to like it.'

Carnelian looked with horror at the face floating in the pool. 'A different kind of animal this.'

'Only raveners eat human flesh.'

They shared their disgust.

'Look, it has no eyes,' said Fern.

Carnelian saw the sockets were pools of render. He turned away, speaking between retches. 'Come on ... Let's leave ...'

They clambered to the ground as quickly as they could. Sweaty, they both looked up at the opening and shuddered.
Carnelian
found himself remembering their first night in the Upper Reach when he had had the nightmare. Taking deep breaths, he began relating it to Fern.

'I thought I had dreamed the shapes I saw moving around here.'

They looked at each other. The sartlar,' said Fern.

Carnelian
nodded. 'How many pygmies do you think that pool might hold?'

'Depends on how deep it is.'

The night was populated by huge, menacing baobabs. There might be other trees like this.'

Fern shook his head. 'Every tree nearby save these has been investigated for water.'

'It seems that Morunasa was right, the pygmies didn't flee after all.'

Fern's eyes widened. Then it was the sartlar who killed them, who cut the Ladder free.'

Fear was added to
Carnelian
's queasiness. 'Why?'

Fern looked sick. 'And we've been sleeping night after night without posting guards.'

Carnelian
tried to work it out.

Fern spoke first. 'We must go and cut the ladder to their caves.'

Carnelian took Fern's arm and pulled him away towards the knoll. 'Better to face this in the morning. Tonight, you and I will stand watch.'

Together?' Fern asked.

'No,' said Carnelian, 'one at a time. We'll each need some sleep.'

Fern stared at him aghast. 'You might manage to sleep, I know I won't.'

'Well, we should at least try and, Fern, it might be better if we weren't to mention any of this to the others until we know what's going on. There's no need to frighten them needlessly.'

'And then of course there's the Ladder to be finished,' said Fern.

'Yes, the Ladder,' said Carnelian glancing back. He shuddered, sure he could see shadows creeping around the anchor baobabs.

A war can turn on the decision of a moment.

(from a treatise on warfare composed by an unknown Quyan)

Carnelian took the first watch. He sat with
his back to the embers so that
their light would not blind him to any movements in the night. Around him baobabs loomed, thrusting their skeletal arms into the starry sky. The waterfall grumbled. It was cold. He wrapped his blanket tighter round him and dug his nails into the palms of his hands to stave off sleep.

The moon rising full oozed its silver among the baobabs, betraying stark shadows gathered around the anchor trees. Frozen by the sight, wetting his lips, Carnelian readied a cry of alarm should they come creeping towards the knoll.

His eyes continued to see the sartlar even when he was certain they had returned to their caves. After that he tried not to imagine them under his feet feasting on the pygmy render.

Later, when Fern relieved him, Carnelian told him what he had seen and then, reluctantly, went to his blanket. At first he tried lying with his back to the chasm, his eyes closed, but his ears kept him awake, listening for the padding of sartlar feet. He rolled over to face his fear.

That was worse. Every sound, real or imagined, forced his eyes open to search the darkness.

At last he gave up and moved to Fern's side.

'Can't sleep,' Carnelian whispered.

Fern smiled. 'During your watch, I was only pretending.'

Carnelian sat down close to his friend.

'It's cold,' he said.

Shyly, Fern opened his blanket to welcome him. Hesitating, Carnelian shuffled closer. They managed to wrap both blankets round them. Silent, they kept watch together.

Carnelian woke to find Fern lying against him asleep. For some moments he allowed his eyes to wander over the dark face so close to his. He smiled but then jerked round to look down towards the chasm.

'What... ?' his friend blurted, blinking, confused.

Carnelian could see the Plainsmen sleeping peacefully around their hearths. Some were stirring, perhaps woken by Fern's voice, among them Ravan. Ignoring the youth's stare, Carnelian turned to his friend.

'Sorry.'

Fern yawned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. 'We fell asleep then?'

Thankfully there's no harm done.'

They stood up and stretched, groaning, their backs aching from the way they had been sleeping, propping each other up. Still wrapped in his blanket, Carnelian started walking down towards the chasm. Soon the sun would be scorching down but the morning was still cold and the ground glittered with dew.

Fern came to join him. 'Where are you going?'

Carnelian turned. To wait for our sartlar friends.'

'You were right. In the morning light, they seem less terrifying.'

When they reached the edge of the chasm, they saw it was clogged with mist. Carnelian was relieved to find the Ladder was where it had been the night before. He leaned over and looked along the wall of the chasm to the sartlar ladder.

'No sign of them.'

'Everyone sleeps late after a night of feasting,' said Fern.

Carnelian turned and saw his friend's wry grin, then walked back towards one of the anchor baobabs. When he reached it he sat, leaning his back against its trunk.

'You're going to wait for them?' asked Fern.

'I want to make sure we finish the Ladder today.'

'Do you mean to confront them?'

Carnelian frowned. 'I'm not sure yet. Do we have enough food to share with them?'

Fern frowned and shook his head. 'I'll wait with you.'

He sat down beside Carnelian and, closing their eyes, they basked in the morning sun.

The sartlar came creeping over the chasm rim, bent as if they were carrying burdens on their backs. They fell still when Carnelian rose and gibbered as he approached.

'Kor,' he called, searching for her. Though he could not see the woman this did not mean she was not there. Sartlar were more alike than aquar.

One detached from the herd. He recognized Kor by her shambling gait. As she came closer she sank to her knees. Behind her came the rest, in sullen subservience. He tried to wave them away but they did not respond. Their heads were bowed down to their feet and he could not tell if any were even looking at him.

'Come, Kor, follow me,' he said and stooped.
At his touch she jerked violentl
y, causing him to pull his hand away. He watched her get slowly to her feet, groaning.

'Are you in pain?'

The sartlar looked up at him. 'For the living the world holds nothing but pain.'

He wondered that philosophy should come from such a creature.

'Follow me.' He turned his back and walked away but did not hear her following. Looking back, he saw she had remained where she was.

'Come on,' he said more insistently. His tone seemed to jerk her to life and she hobbled after him. They walked together towards the anchor baobab in which he had found the render.

'What's in this tree, Kor?'

'We have to labour on the Ladder, Master.'

Tell me what this tree contains.'

The sartlar looked up at him through her hair. 'It's a tree, Master.'

'A hollow one.'

Her shoulders rose and fell.

'I've seen what lies in it.'

She lifted her face so that her chin emerged through her hair. He saw her raw lips opening. 'We have to eat.'

Carnelian's scrutiny lingered on her mouth with its rotting teeth. He tore his eyes away. 'Surely you could have found something else?'

'We could have eaten each other, Master.'

Carnelian failed to discern any emotion in her voice. 'You killed the pygmies.'

Again the shrug.

'Did you?' he insisted.

They tried to starve us, Master.'

Carnelian's eyes were drawn to the Isle of Flies. 'What about their masters?'

'We didn't go there,' said Kor.

He looked down at her.

The Darkness fed on the rainmen.'

'What?'

Her head fell.

'Do you mean Oracles?' Carnelian remembered something Osidian had said when he returned from the island. Cannibalism. Had a sartlar siege reduced the Oracles to that? Whatever had happened, Carnelian could guess what would befall this woman and her people should he tell Morunasa even the little she had confessed. Yet if he said nothing, who else might suffer? Osidian's death would not change the necessity to return the Upper Reach to the Oracles. If Morunasa was typical, they were merciless. Carnelian needed time to think.

'Go. Finish the Ladder.'

Kor stood like a boulder. 'Will the other Master return with rainmen?' 'I don't know.'

'Will you show them what's in the hollow tree?'

He shook his head. 'I'm not sure ...'

They would feed us alive to their Darkness.'

Her filthy mouth again drew his queasy fascination. He imagined what it had been eating. Suddenly he needed to be rid of her.

'You disgust me,' he spat and immediately felt his anger gone. Almost, he apologized.

'Yes, Master.' Kor made a painful prostration before him and then retreated towards the other sartlar. Carnelian looked on grimacing, feeling something of the desperation that had driven the creatures to eating human flesh. He had experienced their lot. What right had he to judge them?

As the sartlar toiled, raising the last section of the Ladder, Carnelian, Fern, Krow and some other Plainsmen struggled to remove the girdling cables from the anchor trees. They snapped several spear hafts in the knots before they managed to work them loose.

By this time, the sartlar were drawing the ends of the Ladder up onto level ground. As had been expected, these reached just to the anchor trees but no further. It was the turn of the Plainsmen. Using thin rope as a model, Carnelian had already shown them what he wanted to do. Using knots he had learned as a child on his island, they managed to join one of the Ladder cables to the fragment they had retied around the tree. The resulting knot was larger than a man's head. It was hard to believe it would hold. As Carnelian directed the sartlar to gradually release that side of the Ladder, everything began creaking, groaning, squeezing smaller. The whole system stuttered, then fell silent. Like everyone else, Carnelian was ready to run from the whiplash should it all come apart.

'It holds,' said Fern at last, his voice loud in the silence.

Carnelian
and Krow whooped and the Plainsmen joined them.

It was already getting dark when the other side of the Ladder was similarly secured. The Plainsmen celebrated while the sartlar looked on, as animated as rocks. They shied away from
Carnelian
as he walked in among them. He found Kor.

'You've done well.' He gazed over the sartlar. 'You've all done well.'

He looked down at Kor. 'Now go and rest.'

'Rest is forbidden us,' the woman said.

'But I've nothing more for you to do.'

The other Master commanded us to quarry salt.'

'Hush,'
Carnelian
said and looked round to see if any of the Plainsmen had heard her and was relieved when he saw them returning to the knoll.

He looked back at Kor. Then you must obey his commands.'

'And what shall we eat, Master?'

Carnelian grimaced. There was no spare djada. 'Eat what there is in the tree.'

'As the Master commands,' said the woman and limped off to join her fellow creatures, who were making their slow, melancholy way back to their caves.

When Carnelian returned to the knoll, the fires were already lit. Their crackle and the mutter of Plainsman voices were comforting. Fern made a space for him at his side. Carnelian sat down and took the djada offered.

The men would like you to know that most of the water caches in the trees have been drained,' Fern said, in a voice all were meant to hear.

Then we'll have to fetch water from the river.'

This was greeted with a murmur of discontent.

'We wish to return to our peoples in the mountains,' said Ravan.

'You know perfectl
y well the Master told us to wait here for him,' said Krow, his eyes flaming. 'And what if he doesn't return in time?' 'He will.'

Ravan stood up and looked around him. Loudly, he announced: 'Let's cut the Ladder and, in the morning, we'll leave this accursed place.'

Silence fell across the knoll, disturbed only by a few mutters of agreement. When Krow made to confront Ravan, Carnelian held up a hand to stay him. 'Let him speak.'

Ravan looked at Carnelian, surprised, then lifted his gaze over the camp.

The Ochre who have lived with them will tell you the Standing Dead are nothing more than men. Yes, they have power, but it is not divine. We four tribes have now fought together. Why don't we go on? Which other tribe could stand against our joined might? Imagine what could flow from this alliance: the salt that would free us from service in the legions; the captured children we could send to the Mountain in place of our own. All this we could do once freed from the Master.'

As voices broke out supporting Ravan, Carnelian saw how much the youth had become Osidian's pupil. He saw also what the consequence of such upheaval would be. The Wise would not tolerate such a challenge to their systems. But how could he explain to the Plainsmen the complex realities that lay behind the face the Commonwealth presented to its subjects? Still, this had to be stopped before it went too far. He rose.

'Ravan is right, you could cut the Ladder and return to your peoples, but consider this: the Manila came up before and massacred two tribes; the next time they come up do you want them led by the Master?'

Ravan saw Carnelian's words had spread dread. 'What of it? Did the Darkcloud not defeat them?'

Several answered him.

'Prepared, we could do so again.' His eyes became possessed by firelight. 'Perhaps we might even become strong enough to defy the Gatherers.'

Fern leapt to his feet and began making appeals to those who had seen the dragons of the legions. 'Do you really believe we could defeat those?'

Ravan thrust his head towards his brother. The Master believes so. He told me that is his plan.'

Carnelian was shocked Osidian had confided so much in the youth. Then he has deceived you, as he has deceived himself. The methods he has used to overturn your lives are the same the Standing Dead use to rule the world. A legion is altogether another matter. The dragons cannot be defeated by riders however numerous. As for defeating the Manila, up until now, when they have come up onto the Earthsky, they have wandered blind in a land they did not know. Even so, they destroyed two tribes. As for the Darkcloud's victory, I led the attack. We only won because we surprised them.' He located the Darkcloud around their fires. 'How many would have fallen in a pitched battle?'