Ricardo Pinto - The Third God

As he tore across the ferngardens, leaping two more ditches, Carnelian was relieved to put the Grove between him and the dragons. He caught up with Morunasa in the Southgarden.

‘Where’s the Master?’ cried the Oracle.

‘Marshal your warriors. We’ll need them to punch a hole through the encirclement.’

Morunasa gauged Carnelian, then swung round in his saddle-chair spitting out instructions in his own language. His Oracles raced away, riding hard to overtake the Marula flight.

He turned back. ‘Where?’

Carnelian could feel no thunder in the ground. The dragons must be circling the Koppie to cut them off. He sent his aquar past Morunasa, heading for the Old Bloodwood Tree. They leapt another ditch and careered into a body of riders crammed around the tree. Carnelian urged his aquar towards Fern’s. Osidian was there, guarded by Darkcloud. His crazed eyes drilled past Carnelian. ‘Morunasa, destroy these unbelievers.’

Carnelian’s hand, reaching for his spear, relaxed when he saw Morunasa shaking his head. ‘No, Master. Now I must do what I can to save my people.’

Carnelian addressed Osidian. ‘It’s not in your interests to impede us further. Even now Aurum is throwing his forces around us to capture you.’

Osidian’s head dropped to his chest. Carnelian looked around him. Faces were tight with terror, but he was sure they would obey him. He managed a smile for Poppy sitting with Krow. ‘We must go.’

Fern shook his head. ‘I’m staying.’

Carnelian took in all the Darkcloud with a glare. ‘If the Master’s taken your tribe’ll be burned alive.’ Then to Morunasa: ‘Get them through the auxiliaries. Now go!’

Poppy began a protest, but Krow carried them both off after Morunasa and the others as they sped off down the Blooding.

Carnelian knew this delay might hazard his whole plan. He had to get away. ‘Fern, come with me. Your mother didn’t want you to throw your life away. Live for her.’

Fern’s face darkened. ‘How dare you quote my-’

At that moment a whining scream drew their eyes towards the Grove. Hissing, the mother trees were leafed with flames. Fern’s mouth fell open as he stared, frozen by horror. Carnelian freed his spear and with its haft struck Fern’s aquar into motion. Then kicking his own he took the lead and was relieved when the other followed him.

Hurtling down the Blooding Carnelian could see, on the plain, the horns of the auxiliaries’ encirclement coming together. Osidian’s Plainsmen were a fleeing rabble already beyond their grasp. The Marula looked in better order, but would soon be overtaken by the auxiliaries. He and Fern dodged through the slaughterhouse chaos of the Killing Field. As they reached open fernland, Carnelian was glad to see that Fern seemed more composed. Both saw the Marula slowing, even as the auxiliary encirclement closed ahead of them. Their ranks opened to absorb Osidian and the Darkcloud. Carnelian and Fern coaxed even more speed out of their aquar. Soon there were Marula all around them, every eye focused on the auxiliary line thickening ahead. When the Marula let forth a battlecry, Carnelian joined his voice to theirs. Aquar added their screeching to the tumult. Their charge struck the auxiliaries with a detonation that reverberated through the ground. Their intersection frothed like a breaking wave. Then the auxiliary wall broke and he and the Marula washed through. More auxiliaries crashed into their flanks as the enveloping curve melted into pursuit. Carnelian was losing hope of escape, when trumpets screamed from behind them. He looked round and saw the auxiliaries slowing, disengaging, veering away, but his cry of triumph caught in his throat as he saw that the Grove had become the roots of a tower of smoke that might have been the Marula god rising up in wrath from the earth.

Flattened ferns formed a road that led them to the Bluedancing’s outer ditch. Several earthbridges spanned it but of these all but one had collapsed. Carnelian rode across and found himself in a ferngarden similarly trampled. It was larger than any of the Ochre outer gardens. He grew uneasy at the eerie quiet, at how tall the ferns had grown, at the saplings sprung up everywhere. Glancing round, he saw the earthbridge was funnelling the Marula. He did not wait for them all to cross, but rode towards the next ditch with Osidian and his Darkcloud escort, Fern and Morunasa, Krow and Poppy and some Oracles in their wake.

The edges of the next ditch had crumbled. The earth on the other side had been gouged by many claws. Carnelian was reassured. Those fresh red wounds showed that many aquar had crossed there today. At least some of the tribes must have come at his summons.

He jumped his aquar across then scrambled up the other side. A trail led off through another large ferngarden. At its further end rose the hill that was the koppie’s heart. Though it was not as lofty as the Ochre’s it was wider, its crags spreading as a cliff. What lay beneath surprised him. Though the grove canopy was patchy, it seemed that its mother trees had survived Osidian’s arson.

Figures were descending steps from the edge of the grove. He wanted to talk to them and to climb the crags to reassure himself Aurum was not pursuing them.

The steps turned out to be stones set into an earthbridge that curved up to the cedar hill. The ditch it crossed had been cut into the side of the slope and not at its foot. The figures coming down to meet them were Plainsmen.

‘Where’re your commanders?’ Carnelian asked.

They looked at each other, perhaps not understanding Vulgate. One turned to point up at the crags. Carnelian nodded. It made sense that their leaders were up there keeping a lookout. Dismounting, he kept a careful eye on the Plainsmen, who were staring at Osidian being helped out of his saddle-chair. It was reassuring to see the Darkcloud form a cordon round him. Even stooped, Osidian towered in their midst. Carnelian was thankful Osidian was so weakened by his infestation. Others were dismounting, including Morunasa, Krow and Poppy. He followed her glance of concern to Fern, who was still aloft.

‘Poppy?’

When she looked at him Carnelian made a gesture and she nodded. Approaching Fern’s aquar she stroked its neck to make it kneel, then coaxed Fern to climb out.

Carnelian spoke Osidian’s name and, when he raised his head to look, Carnelian indicated the steps with his spear. ‘If you would please go first, my Lord.’

Expressionless, Osidian advanced, the Darkcloud around him. The Plainsmen on the steps drew aside, fearfully, watching him ascend. Carnelian asked Morunasa to leave word that the Marula should make their camp before the steps, then followed Osidian.

Two ancient cedars stood guard upon the entrance to the grove. Both had been maimed by fire. Bark was charcoaled up to a great height, and in places had burned away deep enough to expose the heartwood. Some of these scars reached high enough that branches had withered. Those that survived bore needles, but in brushes that hung lopsidedly.

As they climbed a grand rootstair, Carnelian saw with what haunted eyes the Darkcloud and his Plainsman friends looked around them. Ferns had invaded the hearths where the Bluedancing had eaten and talked, had shared their lives. They swamped the hollows in which they had slept, made love. The canopy above was too ragged to keep out the sky. Mutilated, the mother trees could not reach each other to plug the gaps. Carnelian could feel their anguish and the wrath they were drawing up from the earth where their daughters lay. Peering along the rootstairs and paths that split off from the one they climbed, he saw how much bigger this grove was than that of the Ochre. It gave a measure to what had been done when the Bluedancing had been destroyed. Though driven to this crime by Osidian, it was the Ochre who had set the fires. Carnelian saw Fern taking in the destruction and wondered if his friend was feeling that it was for this sin that the Mother had allowed his tribe to suffer such terrible retribution.