Ricardo Pinto - The Third God

‘We’ve never managed more than two hearths in one day,’ she said.

Grimly Fern nodded.

‘Will you allow the Maruli at least to dig?’ Carnelian asked. Both he and Poppy waited anxiously until Fern gave another nod.

As dusk fell what remained of the women of the last hearth lay beneath its earth. Its men laid out in a row had yet to be carried up to the Crag. Fern wanted to keep going, but Carnelian and Poppy would not let him, saying it would be better to finish the work the following morning once they were rested.

When Carnelian took food to Sthax Fern said nothing, but continued to eat his own. Later Carnelian, Fern and Poppy went up to the summit of the Crag. The north remained dark until the moon rose. They made their way to their hollows by its light.

The next day Poppy called down to them when they reached the Crag steps. Looking up, they saw her arms waving against the blue sky. For more than half the morning she had sat as a lookout among the ravens, the flies, the mouldering dead. Carnelian and Fern left the corpse they had been carrying, wrapped in its blanket, and ran up the steps.

Poppy greeted them, wide-eyed. ‘Dust.’

They followed her along the path they had cleared among the bones, hunched against the storm of ravens their rush disturbed into the air. She pointed. There, in the north, was a rolling front of dust.

‘Saurians?’ Carnelian asked.

Squinting, Fern did not answer. Carnelian and Poppy waited, then saw him slowly shake his head.

‘If it’s a herd it’s one larger than any I’ve ever seen before. Not even heaveners could raise so much dust. Besides, they’re coming straight at us.’

Carnelian looked again, his heart pounding. He was too inexperienced to see what Fern was seeing.

‘Dragons?’ asked Poppy breathlessly.

Fern shook his head again. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never seen dragons moving in the Earthsky.’

Carnelian bowed his head. The time to act had come. He looked at Fern. ‘How long before they get here?’

‘Well before dusk.’

Carnelian looked into the south-west as he had done every time he had come up to the summit that day.

‘Are you looking for Krow?’ Poppy asked.

Carnelian was about to answer, when he saw a slight disturbance to the west. He grabbed Fern and pulled him round. He stabbed his finger. ‘There.’

Fern shaded his eyes with his hand. Carnelian peered but, through the melting air, he could not really be sure there was anything there. ‘Well?’

Fern shrugged. ‘Could be.’

‘It’s in the direction of the Darkcloud koppie.’

‘Yes,’ said Fern. ‘It could be drag-cradles.’

Carnelian looked back north. That could only be Aurum and Osidian bringing a storm that would soon break upon the Koppie. West, it was not so clear, but if it was Krow Carnelian knew there was his best chance of stopping the salt from reaching the Koppie.

‘If I leave now I could get there and back before the dragons get here.’ This was more a question than a statement.

Fern looked horrified. ‘I can’t bring the rest of the dead up here by myself.’

Carnelian grimaced.

‘I could help,’ said Poppy, a determined look in her eye.

‘Even if you had the strength,’ said Fern, ‘it’s not woman’s work.’

Glancing west again Carnelian was more and more certain there were riders there. ‘Sthax can help you.’ Then, seeing Fern’s puzzlement: ‘The Maruli.’

Fern scowled.

‘At this moment I’m more concerned with the living than the dead. If you want to save these last few souls you’ll allow Sthax to help you.’

The need to get going overwhelmed Carnelian. Without waiting for an answer, he made for the steps.

The moment he reached the shade of the first mother tree Carnelian freed his face from his uba and breathed deep. After the summit the cedar perfume was so fresh it brought tears to his eyes. As he made his way down the Sorrowing he gazed about him as if he were seeing the Grove for the last time.

Sthax was sitting on a root step. When he heard Carnelian approach he rose, grinning. Carnelian pointed insistently back up towards the Crag. Carnelian watched him climb the rootstair, then ran down to the Childsgate where they had tethered the aquar.

She was there, sunk to the ground, snoozing in the shade. Climbing into her saddle-chair, he made her rise and rode her round to the Southgate. Soon they were coursing down the Southing. When they reached the Newditch, Carnelian glanced back to the Crag, then sent her speeding westwards across the open plain.

There were enough aquar pulling drag-cradles for them to have flattened a road through the ferns. The shape of their saddle-chairs was characteristically Darkcloud and it was Krow riding up in front. They raced forward to meet Carnelian, giving him no time to examine their convoy.

Krow gave a grim nod as he approached. ‘Master.’

The Darkcloud round him were less restrained in their greeting. Looking among them Carnelian was pleased to see men he knew and greeted those he did by name, lighting smiles among them.

Noses wrinkled, eyes registered the staining on Carnelian’s robes and skin. He had become so accustomed to being filthy he had not considered the impression he would give. Horror and disgust had spread to all their faces.

‘I’ve been working with Ochre Fern and Twostone Poppy to save the souls of the Ochre.’ Their looks of compassion made him feel a kinship with them, but there was no time to linger on that. ‘The Master’s been defeated.’

The Plainsmen gaped, staring, but it was Krow who erupted towards him. ‘You lie!’

Carnelian drew back in surprise. ‘I assure you, Krow, it’s true. Even now he flees before the dragons.’ He pointed north.

‘Our people have seen dragonfire on the horizon,’ said one of the Darkcloud. Several more declared they must return home immediately. Krow was gazing northwards, his face sagging with utter disbelief.

Carnelian raised himself up in his saddle-chair. ‘You’ll not save your people by hiding in your koppie.’

Their fear turned to anger and they challenged him. In answer he pointed at the drag-cradles. ‘First of all you must destroy that salt.’

Outrage turned them into a mob. He shouted them down. ‘Listen to me.’

One of their leaders swung his arm back to take in the cradles. ‘You’d have us destroy such a vast treasure?’

‘It belongs to us all,’ cried one.

‘We’ve bought it with our blood,’ said another.

Their leader bared his teeth. ‘We’ll take it as our reward for serving the Master.’

Carnelian fought his own rising anger. ‘To our shame we’ve all served the Master.’ He could not help glancing back at Krow, who had subsided into his chair. He looked as many of the Darkcloud in the eyes as he could. ‘I’m as guilty as any here, but now I say to you it’s over. Whatever ambitions the Master put in your hearts, let them go. It’s clear for all to see that everything he promised you is turning to dust. Your only hope now is to return to the way things were.’

‘To be slaves to the Standing Dead?’

Carnelian fixed the speaker with a glare. ‘Do you really believe you’ve ever been anything else?’

The contempt in his voice cooled their defiance. He pointed at the salt again. ‘If you keep that for yourselves, you will earn the envy and hatred of the other tribes. If you share it with them, you might avoid strife for a while, but, ask yourselves, would you or your sons then willingly go into the legions to earn the Gods’ salt? If not, how long do you think it would be before the Standing Dead came to find out why you no longer chose to serve them?’

Consternation broke out again, but Carnelian sensed their anger was really fear.