Ricardo Pinto - The Third God

Poppy glanced at Carnelian then past him. He followed her gaze and saw Fern by the gate.

‘Please come in, Fern,’ she said.

Almost against his will Fern looked towards Krow, who was surveying the grove as if he were counting each tree, each stone. Poppy reached out and touched Krow gently. When he turned to her, she indicated Fern. Krow flushed when he saw that Fern was waiting for his permission. He gave a nod and Fern entered.

The four of them climbed the hill. They passed the funeral pyre the Marula had made to burn their dead. Its scar lay between the mother trees they had mutilated for firewood.

When they reached the foot of the twin crags, Carnelian eyed the Ancestor House nestling in the fork where they met. He knew that its walls, its floor, its roof contained the bones of Poppy’s and Krow’s grandmothers and grandfathers. There Oracles had camped, lighting fires upon that sacred floor.

They followed Krow up a stair to the summit of the highest crag. There among the bare funerary trestles they stood to survey the plain. South the Backbone ran away to a scratch. They widened their search east along the southern horizon. Of Aurum and his dragons there was no sign.

Poppy and Krow sat together gazing into the flames. Carnelian watched with concern. Earlier they had crept off, whispering as they pointed things out to each other. When they had returned they had seemed empty of themselves.

Fern was gazing at them with a father’s eyes. Becoming aware he was being watched, he focused on kneading his hands. It salved Carnelian’s misery a little that, perhaps, Fern was halfway to forgiving Krow. He looked at the trunk of the cedar under whose branches they were sitting. He felt affection for Poppy’s mother tree. This hearth, the sleeping hollows, even the water jar nestling between the roots, were very like Akaisha’s. He could not remember the last time he had felt so much at home. His gaze lingered on Osidian lying near the fire, twitching.

The whole hill was clothed with Plainsmen. Poppy had given them leave to camp beneath the mother trees and to light fires wherever they could find space. She had even allowed in the small number of sartlar who had managed to keep up with the march. Only the Marula and the aquar were outside the protection of the inner ditch. He was glad Morunasa had accepted this without argument. Even had Poppy been prepared to allow the Marula into the grove Carnelian was sure Krow and Fern would not countenance it.

Carnelian pondered what the next day might bring. If the morning did not reveal some sign Aurum was still pursuing them they would have to return south. He blanked his inner sight to what they might be returning to. He would not allow himself to consider failure until he had to. Instead he clung to the hope that, in destroying the render, he had made it impossible for Aurum not to follow them.

Carnelian was woken by a tremor in the ground. He jumped up, certain Aurum had come for them. Embers lit the shapes of Plainsmen panicking. The grove seemed an ant nest breached. He tried desperately to pierce the cedar canopy to look down into the ferngardens, anticipating at any moment that the night would be lit by dragonfire.

He became aware Poppy was clinging to him. Fern was there in front of him demanding to know what they should do. At his side, Krow looked stunned. Carnelian found his voice. ‘We need to quell this disorder and find out what’s going on.’

Fern jerked a nod. ‘I’ll see to the men.’

Carnelian grabbed his shoulder. ‘No.’ He prised Poppy loose, knelt and looked into her eyes. ‘You do it, Poppy. This is your koppie; they’ll listen to you.’ When she nodded he rose and looked at Krow. ‘You too.’

As they sped away Carnelian grabbed Fern’s arm and pulled him off towards a rootstair. Fern broke free. ‘What about the Master?’

Carnelian glanced back to Osidian, lying like a corpse in the glow of their hearth. ‘Leave him.’

When they reached the rootstair Carnelian stumbled up it, pushing his way through the Plainsmen coming down. He was only distantly aware of Fern barking orders. He was focused on trying to devise a plan that might salvage something. What could they do if dragons were coming across the ferngardens?

As he reached the crag, Fern said: ‘Why Poppy?’

Carnelian answered him without turning. ‘She’ll shame them.’

It took them a while to find the steps they had climbed earlier. Carnelian scaled them on all fours so as not to fall. Reaching the top he almost tripped over one of the funerary trestles. Then he was standing on the edge surveying the night. At first he was tormented by a certainty he could see shapes creeping towards them across the ferngardens. Gradually he convinced himself he was imagining it. Then he noticed a flickering circle to the north. Campfires. It was puzzling. ‘It’s too small to be a camp.’

‘There’s another there,’ said Fern.

Carnelian saw another circle to the south. Neither was large enough to be a dragon encampment. He walked along the edge gazing out. When he had made a complete circuit, he turned to Fern. ‘Earlier, when you woke, you felt it too?’

‘Dragons… perhaps earthers, though I’ve never known a herd move in darkness.’

‘Raveners?’ Carnelian tensed. ‘The Marula!’

‘The Plainsmen are safe within the ditch,’ Fern said, coldly; but then added: ‘If there was a ravener among the Marula, we would’ve heard their screams.’

Carnelian nodded and returned his attention to the fernland. ‘He must be out there somewhere.’

Fern walked to the edge and gazed down. The din from the Plainsman panic was ringing out into the night. ‘Perhaps he’s waiting for the dawn. You said yourself he wants the Master alive. He’d not risk a night attack.’

Carnelian became lost in pondering what they should do. It would be foolish to assume Aurum had learned nothing from his previous attempt at encirclement. The handover was now being forced on them. Were they far enough north to be certain Aurum would choose to immediately quit the Earthsky with his prize? What about the Plainsmen? Would Aurum let them go?

‘Why did you want me up here? I’d be more use down there.’

Carnelian had a notion. Perhaps he could negotiate with Aurum. If he went in person the auxiliaries would have no choice but to take him to their master. He suppressed sympathy for those men who, for setting eyes on him, would suffer death. Perhaps he might be able to convince Aurum that he had come to betray Osidian. Betrayal was something Aurum might believe. Besides, it was not so far from the truth. Could Carnelian persuade Aurum to let the Plainsmen go by saying it was more likely he would get Osidian alive? It was a narrow hope. Then there was the problem of the Marula. The warriors might let Osidian go; Morunasa would not.

‘I’ll go down then,’ Fern said, his voice tinged with anger.

Carnelian rose, apologizing. It was instinct that had made him bring Fern. He now knew why. ‘Fern, the only hope we have to save the Plainsmen is through you.’

Fern gave a snort. ‘How?’

Carnelian explained his plan. ‘They’ll follow you out of the trap. I don’t know if Hookfork will let them go, but you’ll have a chance to break out. I might even be able to send you a signal.’

Fern’s head dropped. Carnelian waited, knowing he was talking about them separating for ever. Fern looked up again. ‘And Poppy?’

‘Take her with you. I’ll slip away… not say goodbye… She wouldn’t go with you if I said goodbye.’ Carnelian was surprised he was feeling nothing.

‘And the Marula?’

‘Leave them to me.’

At that moment they heard a scrabbling from the steps and a figure appeared. It was Morunasa. Carnelian’s first feeling was outrage that the man had chosen to defy the ban set on him and his people from entering the grove. His next feeling was anxiety: how much had Morunasa heard? With relief, he realized that he and Fern had been talking in Ochre. Fern was regarding Morunasa with anger, but, since he chose to say nothing, Carnelian decided that, in the circumstances, it was best to let Morunasa’s defiance pass.