And the Skyfather made birds That they might be everywhere his eyes
The plain lay under an immense blue weight of sky. A distant herd appeared to be foothills. Stands of scouring-rush, groves of ginkgos, a few vast spreading acacias were all that alleviated the blank horizon. Trudging along the spine of black rock, it took Carnelian a while to notice the mound rising green from the plain.
He fell back until he was walking beside Fern. That is the first hill I've seen since we came up into the Earthsky.'
'It certainly is a hill of sorts,' said Fern. 'Of what sort?'
Amusement raised the corners of the Plainsman's mouth. 'A tumbling of stones among trees.'
'It's a koppie isn't it, and the one we seek?'
Fern beamed. 'Yes, the koppie of the Twostone.'
Clearly, they were not the only ones that had seen it. Murmurs of excitement were passing among the youths, putting new strength into their legs.
Krow ran up grinning. They'll have been watching us for ages and no doubt will soon ride out to see who we are.'
Some of the youths broke into song. One cracked a joke that made his companions fall about laughing. For a moment their gaiety lifted Carnelian's foreboding, but then his stomach began churning as he imagined the reception the Twostone were likely to give him and Osidian.
Fern led them down from the Backbone, making directly for the koppie. This island in a fern sea made Carnelian remember the stories Ebeny had told of the hills on which her people lived. If these koppies were not as grand as his childish imaginings had made them, neither were they the paltry things his Masterly cynicism had later reduced them to.
Carnelian became aware of the deathly silence and saw how serious the faces round him had become.
'What's the matter?' he asked Krow.
'We should've seen riders by now.'
'Perhaps they're in no hurry. After all, we're approaching on foot.'
'If it were only that,' said Fern, grimly and pointed. 'Look.'
Carnelian looked. 'I can't see anything.'
'Exactly.' Fern turned. 'Smoke should be rising. Even this far out we should be able to see a stubble of lookouts on the koppie's brow.'
They walked on in an uneasy silence until they came close enough for Carnelian to discern that the hill was clothed with cedars. From their midst, two stone towers rose, uneven crags of boulders piled one upon the other, the whole mass bright in the sun. The hill lay within a swathe of land enclosed by a circuit of magnolias. With unblinking stares, his companions were searching for any sign of the Twostone Plainsmen.
Krow cupped his hands together and blew a note that echoed among the trees, but the koppie remained stubbornly still. The cedars on the hill seemed the only living beings as, languidly, they slipped sunlight over their flat canopies.
Krow took them in closer. The ground began sloping down to a ditch the other side of which rose steeply as an earthen rampart along which the magnolias formed towers. The youth led them alongside the ditch, until they were moving through the shadows the trees spilled out over the plain. At last they came to where a bridge of packed earth crossed the ditch to a narrow cutting in the rampart framed by two magnolias. They lingered for a while peering across at the cutting, which was barred by a spiked gate.
'Shouldn't this be guarded?' Carnelian whispered to Fern.
His friend dismissed the question with an angry flick of his hand. They watched as Krow crept across the earth-bridge then leant forward, avoiding the horns studding the gate, to peer through the chinks in its wicker. Krow pushed against it and it opened and he was left standing black against the green beyond, beckoning them to follow.
Carnelian crossed with the others. On either side a ditch held mirrors of dark water. Passing through the gate, he beheld a path shaded by cone trees running in the direction of the hill. They carefully closed the gate behind them before setting off along the avenue. Another wall of trees lay ahead. When they reached them, these turned out to form a double circuit between which there lay a ditch deeper than the first. An earthbridge led to a second gate and, once through this, Carnelian found they had entered another fern swathe, not as wide as the first, at the heart of which lay the hill with its cedars. His gaze was fixed on those giants as he approached. Their wide-spreading branches each held a flat roof of needled leaves; the whole mass shifting in the breeze made a creaking that seemed almost speech.
At the margin of the hill lay a final ditch deeper and wider than the previous two. Immense cedars grew on either bank, their roots so densely reinforcing the ditch its walls seemed made of wood. The further rampart rose to a parapet of skulls from which horns curved the length of scythes. Krow led them over a bridge towards the rampart. Between two sentinel cedars a more substantial gate barred their way, before which stood the ghostly figure of a man.
They can't have returned yet,' whispered Ravan.
Krow regarded him with a fixed, pale expression. This late in the year?'
Ravan shrugged and looked unhappy.
'What manner of creature is that?' Osidian demanded, pointing at the ghost.
'A huskman, Master,' answered Ravan. Though he turned towards Osidian, he made sure to keep one eye firmly on the ghostly man. The youth saw Osidian wanted more. 'For his sins against the Twostone he's been denied skyburial. They set him here as a sentinel to protect their koppie while they were away in the mountains.'
'Why is this considered a punishment?' asked Osidian.
Fern glanced round. 'His soul's trapped in his sun-dried corpse like a flame in a lantern.'
Carnelian looked at the mummy with unease. 'For ever?'
'Until those he sinned against consider he's suffered enough.'
'Or until he fails in his duty…' said Ravan.
Krow, who had been examining the huskman, gave the youth a look that silenced him. 'Help me.'
As Ravan's face grew pale, Krow frowned. Though we're not Elders, he'll recognize I'm Twostone.'
Ravan looked unconvinced as together they advanced upon the mummy. When they drew close, Krow began mumbling some charm. Gingerly they reached out and touched the mummy. Ravan shuddered visibly, as if he had felt the huskman move. Then, carefully, they lifted it and carried it to one side, leaning it upon its face against the tree. As they backed away, Fern pushed against the wicker of the gate. When it did not open, he shook it.
He turned to Krow. 'It is secured on the other side.'
The youth was soon scaling the thickly woven gate. He struggled for a moment to climb over its spiky top before dropping down on the other side. Soon the gate was swinging open. Careful not to touch the huskman, the other Plainsmen filed past into the gloom beyond. Carnelian could not help peering at the mummy as he passed it. A man shrivelled like a fruit. Feeling it might turn to look at him, Carnelian hurried on.
Through the gate, he found himself within the cedar grove. The towering trees not only cooled the air but sweetened it with their resinous perfume. The rafters of their branches and their spiny leaves made a ceiling delicately pierced by the sky's blue. A yielding carpet of russet needles muffled his footfalls as he began to follow the others up the hill. Shade spread off between the column trunks. Clearings shone like courtyards, in many of which Carnelian could see ashen hearths ringed with stones. Here and there boulders crouched all scabbed with moss.
Krow sprang away ignoring Fern's call that he should wait for them and was soon lost. As they climbed after him, Carnelian caught glimpses of the twin crags crowning the hill. When they reached them, he saw their flanks rising blue-grey splashed with lichen roundels. He craned his head back to see the jagged summits.
'Fan out and look for any sign they've been here,' said Fern.
Carnelian dropped his gaze to find the youths already slipping off among the trees. 'Can we help?' Carnelian asked. Fern frowned and shook his head. 'You'd better stay here.'
He looked over at Ravan. 'Stay with them.' With that, he was loping off down the hill and had soon disappeared.
'What do you think might have happened?' Carnelian asked Ravan.
Peering among the trees nervously, the youth shrugged.
Carnelian could see between the branches the plain of the Earthsky laid out as a shimmering sea. The twin shadows of the crags were spilling down over the forest and out onto the plain. The sweet air could not lull his feeling of foreboding. His gaze strayed down to a nearby cedar, among whose roots some shards were nestling. He went to pick up a piece. By its curvature, the crude earthenware had come from a large jar. He could tell from the different hues that several vessels had been shattered. Something stirring above him made him start. Looking up, he saw that the shoulders of the branches were hung about with bags and bundles, many of which had been torn open. Wrapped around one bough he saw what appeared to be a rope-ladder dangling crookedly, its rungs here and there torn or missing. Looking at it more closely, he discovered that the stumps still hanging in the twine were the ends of wizened roots. Stowed in the angles of the branches were more bundles in disarray.
Voices behind him made him turn. Seeing it was Fern returned, he ran back.
'Isn't it possible the Twostone are simply delayed in their return from migration?' Osidian was asking him.
Fern shook his head. 'No tribe would dare cross the Earthsky once the raveners have returned.'
Carnelian was about to tell Fern of the signs of looting he had found when a cry shrilled, so thin with panic it might almost have been the calling of a bird. Fern careered down the hill in the direction of the sound. Carnelian's urge to run after him made his heart race. Standing in the shade of an immense branch with Ravan, Osidian looked fearfully pale.
'Had you not better run after him?' he said.
There was a menacing coolness in his tone which Carnelian was in no mood to engage with. He looked down the hill and saw Fern dappling in shadows as he sped under the trees.
'Yes, I want to, but will you not come?'
'Masters do not run.'
Carnelian heard the shrilling cry again, uttered some excuse and sprang down the hill. Osidian's disapproval only served to spur him to greater speed. Resined air blew in his face as he rushed through the flickering shades. Hurtling round a rock, he saw Fern with one of the youths, whose tears showed how dirty his face was. He was sobbing words. Fern's grimace showed he could not understand.
'Show me,' he bellowed. The youth gaped at him, stunned, so that Fern had to shove him into motion. The youth ran off as if a ravener were after him. Carnelian and Fern gave chase.
The youth took them through another gate in the skull wall in the mouth of which another huskman lay, discarded. They crossed the two inner ditches and were tiring when they approached the outer ring of magnolias. Reaching the gate that led out onto the plain, the youth came to a halt. He stood transfixed, staring. Carnelian saw in the glare that the plain seemed to have been ploughed up.
'You had better stay here,' Fern said to the youth, before, setting his face into a grim mask, he walked out across the bridge. A premonition made Carnelian hesitate, but then, cursing, he left the shade and followed his friend.
Drag-cradles and saddle-chairs were scattered everywhere under a smashed littering of bones. Stained brown, crushed for their marrow, skulls cracked open for their meat: the inedible remains of people and aquar.
Carnelian heard footsteps. Glancing round, he saw the youth had trailed after them. His eyes were weeping like wounds, his lips glistening with mucus as he gaped at the carnage.
'You,' roared Fern, 'go back to the koppie, find Loskai and send him down here.' He made sure the youth was moving away before he turned back.
'A battle?' Carnelian asked, as his eyes flickered over the corpses.
Fern rounded on him. 'Can't you see this was a massacre?'
Carnelian lifted his hands. 'I didn't mean…' 'No,' said Fern and wandered a little deeper into the carnage.
Carnelian followed. 'Who could've done this?'
Fern shook his head slowly. The shock had frozen his mouth open. As they walked in among the dead, they had to pull their ubas over their faces as a filter against the charnel stench. Carnelian concentrated on putting his feet down without treading on splintered bone. A skull tumbled alongside a twisted drag-cradle still had grey wisps of hair. Another was too small to belong to an adult.
'These are the Twostone,' he breathed.
Fern's eyes twitched as he scanned them. The whole tribe as near as I can tell,' he said, speaking through the cloth pulled across his mouth and nose. 'Men and women. Young and old.'
Carnelian could not judge how many people were lying there but their bones were like shingle on a beach. An arrow projecting from a ribcage caught his eye. He stooped and withdrew it. It was as long as his arm, with a stump of obsidian where its arrowhead had broken off. It was fletched with black feathers.
He held the thing up for Fern to see. 'Is this a Plainsman arrow?'
Lunging towards him with burning eyes, Fern snatched it. He had to allow his uba to fall away from his face so that he could examine the arrow in both hands. He looked up to say something, then was distracted by something he saw behind Carnelian, causing him to turn.
Osidian and Ravan were coming towards them across the plain, keeping in the narrow shadow cast by one of the crags: a ghost walking upon a path of darkness accompanying a child. Carnelian's sweat went cold. He shook himself free of the illusion; told himself the horror was playing tricks with his mind. 'He's got you seeing omens everywhere,' he muttered. It was just Osidian seeking to protect his skin from the sun.
Osidian's Quya carried towards them on the rising fetor. 'Who is responsible for this?'
'We have found an arrow,' Carnelian said.
'Plainsman?'
'Apparently not.' Carnelian saw with what gaping horror Ravan was surveying the scene.
'Who did this?' Osidian asked Fern in Vulgate, but the Plainsman had noticed Loskai crossing the koppie bridge and was deaf to the Master.
'Plainsmen?' Osidian asked, more insistently.
Fern's face darkened as he seemed to see Osidian for the first time. 'Don't be stupid. Do you really believe one tribe would do this to another?'
Osidian pierced him with his green eyes. 'If not the Plainsmen, who?'
Carnelian had been watching Loskai. With a strange fascination he watched the man grow sickly as his eyes gathered in the enormity of the destruction.
This must be all of them, poor bastards.'
Fern gave him the arrow. Loskai took it and frowned as he turned it in his hands. He looked up and shrugged.
'Whoever did this, might they not still be here?' Carnelian said.
Loskai grew even paler. 'He's right.' Fern was looking in horror to where Krow was coming over the bridge from the koppie. 'We can't let him see this.'
Fern was clearly about to dash back to intercept the youth when Ravan caught hold of his arm. 'What about our people?'
Fern tore free. 'What are you talking about? I don't have time for this.' 'Our tributaries.'
They would've been here well after this happened,' snapped Fern, but Carnelian could see with what intensified horror his friend regarded the carnage.
Bleakly, Ravan looked out across the bone-strewn earth. They might be here…'
Fern advanced on him. They're not here,' he bellowed. They couldn't, be. They weren't meant to arrive here until at least twenty days after the Twostone returned.'
Ravan's face brightened with hope. 'And we delayed them…'
Loskai groaned. He pointed at the massacre. 'We don't even know if the murdering bastards are gone. Even if they are, they might well have been here when the tributaries came through.' He looked back at the koppie. 'We might find our people up there.'
Carnelian felt their misery as if it were his own. 'I'll go with you.'
Fern turned blind eyes on him. 'You wouldn't know what to look for, where to go. Do one thing for me.'
Carnelian saw his friend focus on him. 'Anything.'
'You and Ravan look after the Twostone lad. We'll send the others down to you. Build a fire somewhere within the outer ditch. Keep them safe.'
Carnelian gave a hard nod.
Fern thanked him with his eyes, grabbed Loskai's shoulder and together they ran back towards the koppie bridge. Carnelian, watching them, only after a while became aware of Osidian looking at him with cold eyes.
When darkness fell, Carnelian could no longer deny his fear that something had happened to Fern. He had sat with Krow while Ravan went to marshal the others to build a fire in the ferngarden, beside the earthbridge. Thankfully, dusk now hid the massacre.
Carnelian sneaked a look at Krow's face and saw it was still blank with misery. He had tried to comfort him, but his words had sounded empty.
He gripped the spear he was leaning against his shoulder more tightly and ground its haft into the earth. He glanced round and peered among the dark masses of the surrounding trees longing for Fern and Loskai to return, while all the time, fearing the sudden rush of a murderous attack.
The moon had risen when something came towards them through the ferns. Carnelian leapt to his feet, gripping his spear with both hands as he levelled it at the darkness. Some of the youths were asking questions in shaky voices. He was reassured to see in the corner of his vision Osidian alongside him ready with another spear.
'It's us,' Fern's voice called out as he and Loskai solidified from the darkness.
Carnelian raised the spear with relief. The youths released their tension in laughter and questions as they mobbed the returning men.
'Let us near the fire first,' said Loskai.
The youths quietened and let Fern and Loskai through. Carnelian watched the two men crouch and stretch their hands out seeking the comfort of the flames. Their foreheads moulded into frowns, their squinting eyes sought the burning heart of the fire. Uneasy, everyone settled down to wait until the two men were ready to speak.
At last, Loskai tore his gaze free of the flames and looked round the circle of faces, his burning eyes settled on Krow. They came in from the west across the Bloodbridge. The huskman there failed in his duty and allowed himself to be cast aside. They desecrated many hearths.'
'Why?' Krow demanded with a chilling voice. Loskai shrugged. 'Searching for food; water perhaps, many of the jars were broken.' 'What else?'
Loskai dropped his gaze as if ashamed. They lit fires…' He paused. 'On the floor of your Ancestor House.'
Wide-eyed horror greeted his words.
'Some of them must've lived in there,' said Fern. He braved Krow's stare. The place was filthy.'
Fern's eyes followed a billow of smoke up into the black air. There's more.'
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes, lowered them, quickly glanced at Loskai, then looked at Krow.
They felled three mother trees.'
Carnelian could see Krow's lip trembling.
Then the Mother has abandoned this koppie,' said Ravan.
Krow jumped to his feet. 'You don't know that!' Fern flared his palms. 'He didn't mean -' 'Why? Why did they need to cut down our mother trees?'
To burn their dead,' said Loskai. 'We found a pyre in an outer ferngarden. Charred bones on charcoaled ground. The wind must've blown the ash away.' He opened his hand upon which there lay something like fragments of shell. They were raveners in human shape. Look at these teeth we found.'
Krow took them, his eyes falling on them with burning hatred.
'May I have one?' Carnelian said.
The look Krow turned on Carnelian struck like a blow.
'I might be able to tell you something about them.'
The youth extended his hand and Carnelian took one of the teeth and peered at it. Its human roots tapered to an animal point. He turned the tooth in the flickering light.
'Filed,' he announced, remembering the teeth of the men who had escorted them from the sea to Osrakum. He looked over at Fern. 'Was there anything strange about these bones you found?'
Fern looked exasperated. 'In what way strange?'
'Were they long?'
'Long?' Fern's eyebrows raised. 'Now you mention it, I suppose they were, but what -?'
'Manila. Is it possible the remains were Manila?' Krow's mouth fell open.
'How could they be?' said Loskai angrily. 'When have Manila ever attacked a koppie? Besides, we're far away from where their lands are supposed to lie.'
They're very tall,' said Fern looking into the darkness as if he were seeing one of the black men standing there. 'I saw one in Makar on our way to the Mountain. I'd forgotten his ravener grin.'
'I'm sure your mother's not forgotten,' sneered Loskai.
Fern tensed and fixed him with a look that made the smile fall from Loskai's lips.
'What about our people?' said Ravan, scowling at Loskai.
Fern turned to his brother with anger still glinting in his eyes. 'We searched the whole koppie, but found no sign of them. It's likely when they arrived it was as it is now and they went quickly home.'
'They left no sign for us? They must've known we'd be through here.'
'None we could find,' said Fern.
'It's likely they believe us dead,' said Loskai.
Ravan looked unhappy. Then we must get back as soon as we can.'
'What are they babbling about now?' Osidian asked in haughty Quyan tones.
Carnelian could see how much the sound of that language oppressed the Plainsmen. 'How they might get home as swiftly as they can.'
Osidian turned to Fern. 'How shall we get to your koppie now?'
'Without aquar…' Fern shook his head.
'Couldn't you obtain aquar from a neighbouring tribe?'
Loskai gave a sneer. 'Do you believe, Master, they would just give them to us?'
'You have enough salt to buy the aquar several times over.'
Loskai patted the shape slung across his back. This was bought with the blood of the Tribe and must not be squandered lightly.'
'Besides, Master,' said Fern, 'we know the nearest tribes are on feuding terms with the Twostone and, thus, with us too. They're more likely to take our salt than accept it in exchange for aquar.' He shook his head and looked round sadly. 'We might as well face it, we're going to have to walk.'
The youths raised a chorus of protest.
'What if these Manila moved south to attack the Koppie?' demanded Ravan.
Fern smiled wanly. The cistern here was drained dry. Loskai and I believe from what we've seen the Manila were here throughout the Withering. We all saw how little water the cistern held when we set off from here with the tributaries. For such a length of time it wouldn't have sustained a large number of them.'
They might've brought water with them,' Ravan threw back at him.
Fern shook his head. 'We saw no evidence they had aquar. Without drag-cradles, they could've carried only a few days' supply'
Ravan looked childlike.. 'Can you promise me the Koppie is safe?'
The pyre we found here contained the bones of many men. However many of them came here, when they left, their numbers were severely reduced by the prowess of the Twostone.' He twitched a smile at Krow.
'Promise me,' Ravan demanded.
Fern frowned. 'How can I do that?'
Ravan opened his mouth to say something more but Loskai spoke over him. 'Your brother's right. Tomorrow we'll gather what supplies we can and begin the journey home on foot.'
Krow demanded Carnelian return the tooth and, when he had it, he put it away with the rest somewhere in his robe.
Fern woke them from disturbed dreams into the first grey of morning. Carnelian could barely make out the faces round him but could hear in their groans how low their spirits were. Several of the youths, glancing in the direction of the massacre, drew his eyes there too. Though he could see nothing, he was glad to turn his back on it and follow Fern across the ferngarden towards the cedars.
Even as they searched for unbroken jars in the glooms beneath the fragrant trees, Carnelian felt the redness oozing up into the sky as if its hem were steeping in the blood of the massacred. He moved quickly into the dusk beneath another tree.
Eventually, homing in on Fern's call, Carnelian converged with the others on a gate in the skull wall at the western edge of the cedar grove.
This was where the bastards came in,' said Ravan, scowling.
Krow lifted his head but said nothing. Carnelian was glad of the koppie crags that stood grimly black between the youth and the massacre. As they sorted through the fernroot they had salvaged, Carnelian noticed with unease the guardian huskman lying discarded to one side staring at him. However much he moved around he could not rid himself of the mummy's attention.
At last they were ready to set off. He had volunteered to carry a waterskin. Each time he took a step he could feel the wobble in its belly of precious water. He had allowed them to tie a bale of fernroot to his back. Winding the uba over his face, he followed them out across the bridge and down an avenue of cone trees.
When he became aware of the grating sound following him, he turned and saw Krow dragging the huskman along the path by a rope. Seeing the tight mask of the youth's face, Carnelian bit back his questions.
When they reached the outmost ditch, they paused a while to prepare themselves for the brightening plain, then Fern led them out of the koppie. The scraping sound the huskman made set Carnelian to grinding his teeth. Then the sound stopped. Turning, he saw Krow standing over the huskman. He kicked it. Again. Again. Soon the huskman was bucking under a general assault as, one by one, the Ochre joined in until, at last, only Carnelian and Osidian remained aloof as they watched the Plainsmen vent their rage on the mummy. It was Fern who called a stop to the punishment. He had to drag Krow off. The youth swung at him, snarling and Fern took some blows before he managed to calm him down. Krow spat upon the huskman, turned away and began walking towards the Backbone ridge. Osidian went after him and, with his huge strides, had soon overtaken him and then they walked together, talking. As he followed with everyone else, Carnelian wondered, uneasily, what Osidian might have to say to Krow. Glancing back he saw the shrivelled, broken man, now food for scavengers.
The Backbone ran straight and true into the south. The Earthsky spread eastwards, spangled with lagoons, creeping with herds, to a vague purple fading. In the west, scarred with gullies, the land lay thralled by thorny scrub. In places the rocky road they walked lifted them high into the shimmering air, its stone sweeping up to jagged ridges on either side often too high to look over. In the morning and the afternoon, these often provided blessed shade. When the sun rose high, they would seek to clamber down to the plain or else suffer walking the black rock that would melt the air and scorch their feet even through their shoes. Sometimes the Backbone sank into the red earth, as if it were some immense, burrowing worm. Carnelian took his turn in leading expeditions from the safety of the rocks whenever a nearby source of water was spotted. Even the most brackish tasted like nectar. In the cool of the later afternoon either Fern or Loskai would brave the open plain to hunt with a party of youths. Under Carnelian's command, those who were left behind would build a fire up in the heights and wait anxiously for the hunters. Mostly they would return before nightfall. When they came empty-handed, it would be necessary to consume some of the meagre supplies.
Osidian sank into a morose silence from which Carnelian was unable to raise him. Often he chose to sit alone. Most of the youths seemed to have forgotten him, but Ravan and Krow brought him food or walked at his side during the day. Sometimes, Carnelian would find Fern regarding Osidian as if he were a puzzle to be solved. When Loskai looked in his direction at all, it was with barely concealed hatred.
The vastness of the Earthsky crushed whatever was left of Carnelian's belief that he was an angel. Osrakum and its splendours seemed faint and far away. These small, dark people toiling at his side were real. Krow's grief like an ache in Carnelian's own heart helped him at last accept he had lost his father and his other kin for ever.
Whenever he spied a koppie hill, Carnelian would long to go there, seeing it as a beguiling island adrift in the ferny ocean. Those of their party that were Ochre would force the rest to redouble their pace. Carnelian would see in their faces the desire to reach their own koppie mix with fear; the fear they talked of was that their kin must believe them dead; the fear they would not admit to was that their tribe might have suffered the same fate as the Twostone.
The Koppie had been wavering in the heat towards the south-east for a while. Carnelian was oppressed by the general anticipation of disaster. Suddenly everyone was shouting, waving, crying. Alarmed, he looked around and saw Fern frowning amidst the tumult, with Ravan dejected at his side. 'What's the matter?'
Fern answered by pointing. Carnelian looked and saw a thread of smoke rising from the Koppie's summit. At first it appeared to be a dark omen, for it seemed much like the smoke he had seen rising on the road to Osrakum that had been a harbinger of plague. Then he remembered what it must be.
They've seen us.'
Fern gave a heavy nod. Thank the Mother, the Tribe is safe.'
Carnelian was unsetded that his friend was not greeting this discovery with joy but then remembered what news it was Fern was bringing home, not to mention that he had with him two of the loathed and fearful Standing Dead.
Ravan looked through his tears towards his home and was slowing his pace.
'She'll not blame you,' Fern said, looking round. 'Neither will the Elders.'
Ravan came to a halt and glared at his brother. 'Who will take the blame then, you?'
Fern grew morose. Ravan resumed his stride, but this time kicking through the ferns. Their exchange had dulled the general celebration. Most of the youths now walked in silence, stealing anxious glances towards the brothers and the Standing Dead, which only served to increase Carnelian's dread of what was to come. He glanced over at Osidian pacing imperiously, but could tell nothing of what he felt as his face was hidden beneath the windings of his uba. Krow walked in his shadow, his gaze fixed unblinking on the Koppie.
They're coming to check us out,' one youth cried in delight.
Riders were appearing from the line of tiny trees beneath the Koppie hill.
'Shall we go and meet them?' another youth asked everyone, his face lit by a childish grin.
Fern frowned. They'll be here soon enough.'
'You seem unhappy to be home, barbarian,' said Osidian, speaking from his shroud.
Fern looked sombre. 'We'll have to answer for our dead.'
'You mean you will,' cried Loskai and he sprinted away.
His action broke the discipline of the youths and, whooping, they coursed after him, leaving only Fern, Ravan and Krow with the Standing Dead.
Fern hung his head.
'We're a burden to you,' said Carnelian.
'Not as great as having to explain to my mother the death of her husband and eldest son.'
A peculiar ululating wafted on the breeze from the bullroarers some of the riders were whirling round then-head. Their movement made Carnelian recall the weapons the Ichorians had used to decapitate the Manila escort on his entry into Osrakum. The riders were not coming any further and were returning to the Koppie, escorting Loskai and the youths. No doubt, at that distance, they had assumed it was Stormrane and his brother who were walking with Fern.
The trees had grown close enough for Carnelian to discern they were lining a wide ditch. Between their trunks, he could see some of the youths and the mounted Ochre already streaming through the ferns that stretched beyond to another wall of trees. People were still taking their turn to cross the ditch on a narrow earthbridge.
By the time Carnelian and the others reached the bridge it was empty. Carnelian followed Fern across, through a gate in the low earth rampart into a ferngarden where people were converging from all directions on their long-lost sons. As Carnelian watched them coalescing into a crowd, he yearned to slip away somewhere. He did not want to darken their joy, nor wish to intrude upon their grief.
They reached the mass of backs. All attention was focused on the youths already at its centre. So many people, hundreds of them, swarthy, reeking of sweat, many rusted with earth as if they had recently emerged from the ground. Several were turning puzzled faces on Carnelian, who sensed the beginnings of unease, annoyance even, as they registered Fern's miserable face and the height of his companions.
A keening broke out from the heart of the crowd that made the excited hubbub falter. More and more faces were turning to watch Fern and his companions. People were drawing back, unable to understand who could be walking with Fern and be so much taller than he. Looking down the corridor opening in the crowd,
Carnelian saw the youths he knew so well being passed round and kissed.
Then, suddenly, the crowd hushed. A group of people were coming through, garbed in russet blankets worked with indigo designs, wrists and ankles loaded with rings and bangles of salt. Some of the group had grey hair matted with feathers and salt beads, the rest had their heads covered, as did every woman Carnelian could see. Loskai was guiding them, half turned towards them so that he was forced to shuffle sideways, nodding with deference and making sure to keep his distance.
As Fern came to a halt, Carnelian found a place at his side. A young woman pushed forward, her eyes accusing Fern. 'Where's my husband?'
'My son?' an older woman demanded of Loskai. She turned on Fern. 'You were supposed to protect them,' she cried, close to hysteria.
One of the covered figures lifted a bony arm and said something that caused Fern's accusers to move aside. The-old woman came to stand before Fern, staring up into his face. She gave a harsh, commanding nod and, with head bowed, Fern fell on one knee before her.
'Where is your father, Akaisha's son?'
Carnelian saw that when the woman talked, everyone listened.
'Among the clouds, Mother Harth.'
Harth looked up at Carnelian and Osidian and as she did so, Carnelian felt the eyes of the whole crowd upon him.
She turned back to Fern. 'Your uncle and your brothers too?'
Confused, Fern looked round, searching, then returned his gaze to the old woman. 'Ravan is here somewhere, my mother. My other brother…' He locked eyes with one of the other old women. A shake of his head spilled tears down her cheeks.
'Who else?' demanded Harth, drawing Fern's attention back to her.
A moaning moved through the crowd as he called out the names of those who had not returned.
Harth hesitated, her hands trembling.
'And it grieves me, my mother, to tell you that Ranegale your son was also lost,' Fern said.
Harth backed into the other Elders. The woman Fern had looked at earlier came forward wiping at her eyes, setting her face.
'Who are these two strangers you've brought among the Tribe, Fern?'
Misery aged his face as he looked up at her. 'Mother, my father, my -'
'The time for mourning will come; first answer my question.'
The way Fern's head sank even further made Carnelian feel wretched for him. Through her grief, the woman's face showed the beginnings of fear as she witnessed Fern's dejection.
'What danger have you brought among us, my son?' she said almost in a whisper.
'Mother, they are… Standing Dead.'
Fern's mother's eyes grew round, her mouth gaped and it was with effort she turned her gaze up to the two shrouded shapes.
A murmur of hysteria was rippling outwards from where they stood.
Carnelian watched Harth as she shook her head slowly looking at them. 'I don't… I can't believe.'
Loskai stepped forward. 'Show them,' he cried in Vulgate. 'Show them what you are.'
Carnelian watched the mixture of pleasure and fear play over the Plainsman's face. Then he became aware Osidian was advancing. Fern plucked Krow from the Master's side and pushed him away into the crowd.
The old women cowered when the apparition came to stand in front of them, so tall they hardly reached his waist. Carnelian saw the contempt in Osidian's hands as they unwound the uba that concealed him.
Gasps gusted from mouths as the Ochre stared with gaping disbelief at the immense white man.