Ricardo Pinto - The Third God

Poppy grabbed his arm to draw his attention to her. He looked down into her face so thinned with grief she seemed old. Misery threatened to imprison them. He stroked some of her hair from her mouth and asked her what Krow had said.

‘Something about forgiveness.’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t hear it properly.’ She glanced back at Fern and watched the mattock rise and fall. ‘He didn’t really listen to him.’ Her eyes ignited. ‘Why should he? Krow’s clearly a murderer.’

Carnelian felt there was something unjust in her fierce anger. ‘Whatever he did, the Master was behind it.’

She turned her fury on him. ‘He could have said no. Even now he does the Master’s bidding.’ She must have sensed Carnelian’s confusion because she added: ‘He rides today to the Upper Reach.’

‘He told you that?’

‘He told Fern, when Fern threatened him.’

Carnelian felt suddenly an urgent need to hear what Akaisha had said. He glanced up at the sky. There might still be time to catch Krow.

Remembering his own expedition to the Upper Reach, Carnelian went to the Southgate. The Westgarden, still in the shadow of the Grove hill, had been turned into a camp. A smoky haze suggested that many fires had recently been dowsed. A few Marula warriors hunched here and there like boulders, but his gaze was drawn down the Southing to where another contingent of Marula were gathered at the Near Southbridge. Thinking this might have something to do with Krow, he set off towards them.

Several of the Marula came to meet him as he approached. He could feel their eyes on him, but any man he looked at turned away. At first he imagined it was that they thought him Osidian, whom they feared. Then he began to sense they were displaying not fear but shame. Their apparent leader was almost as tall as Carnelian, but more slender. The prominent ribs of his beaded corselet made him seem as if he were suffering from famine. His head was bowed. His fellows had drawn away from him. His fingers gripped his spear tighter. Carnelian stood for a moment, trying to work out his feelings towards the man. Pity perhaps. If that, why? Kinship? Carnelian’s head jerked back in surprise. He remembered how he had helped teach these warriors how to form a wall of spears that was proof against mounted attack. These men had come up from their Lower Reach to fight for Osidian in obedience to one of their princes. Carnelian could feel the Grove with its atrocities staring at his back. These warriors had murdered his people, but had they had any choice except to do Osidian’s bidding?

He regarded the man before him. ‘Maruli.’

The man’s handsome face came up. They looked at each other. Carnelian wanted to believe it was regret he could see in those bloodshot eyes. ‘Where is Krow?’ he asked in Vulgate.

The Maruli’s brow creased. Carnelian remembered that they spoke no tongue but their own, but he also remembered that Krow, as one of Osidian’s commanders, was known by the name of his tribe. ‘Twostone?’

The Maruli gave half a nod, then raised a hand to point towards the earthbridge. Carnelian saw a commotion there. Marula with lowered spears were confronting a mass of angry Plainsmen.

He pushed into the back of the Marula hornwall, shoving men from his path, slapping their spears up. As he appeared on the bridge, the Plainsmen began falling to their knees. ‘Keep that show of subservience for the Master.’

Confused, the Plainsmen rose and stumbled back across the bridge to let him cross. Looking into their faces he recognized they were Darkcloud; also, they were afraid of him. That cooled his anger, which really had been fear of more bloodshed. ‘Who will tell me what’s going on here?’

The Plainsmen looked at each other, then some youths stepped forward. Each had his face painted white to demonstrate his devotion to Osidian. ‘We’ve come as the Master commanded,’ said one, indicating the press of aquar and drag-cradles filling up the Southing almost to the Newditch. ‘Twostone claims we’re to set off immediately.’ He indicated Krow, who was there among the older men. ‘But we won’t go anywhere until we hear this from the Master himself.’ He pointed accusingly at the Marula. ‘And they won’t let us pass.’ An angry murmur of agreement rose from the Darkcloud behind him.

Carnelian saw the need for answers on every face except Krow’s. Their eyes met. Clearly the youth had told them nothing about the massacre. Carnelian wondered again what part Krow had played in that. Perhaps Krow had reason to fear their reaction. At the news they must surely experience the terror Osidian wanted them to, but also anger. They would not dare turn this against the Master. The Marula they hated already, but could do nothing about. But, if they suspected that one of their own had been involved, had turned against the people who had taken him in, who knew what they might do? Carnelian’s heart leapt to Krow’s defence.

He would satisfy the curiosity of the Plainsmen, but first there were some things he needed to know. ‘Where are the hostage children?’

Glances of fear flitted among them.

‘I only want to know they’re safe.’

The youth who had spoken before spoke again: ‘The Ochre gave them back, Master.’

It occurred to Carnelian that the Darkcloud, being an ‘ally’ tribe, had had no children hostage in the Koppie. ‘How do you know this?’

The youth looked at his hands.

‘They asked you to join their revolt, didn’t they?’

The youth grimaced. He glanced at his fellows, seeking permission, then gave a slow nod. Wide-eyed, he gazed at Carnelian. ‘But the Darkcloud sent them away. Every last one of us is loyal to the Master.’

Carnelian saw behind the youth how many heads were bowed. They were not telling the truth. He could well imagine the consternation the Ochre emissaries had produced. A desire for freedom would have set the old against the young, women against men. Ultimately, it would have been fear and uncertainty that had dictated their answer to the Ochre. How could they be sure the other tribes would rise with them and not leave them exposed to Osidian’s wrath? Then there were the hatreds his conquests had sown among them. As one of the resented Ally tribes the position of the Darkcloud would have been particularly perilous. Carnelian found it hard to blame them. Osidian had had good reason to be confident that, when he marched against the Ochre, no other tribe would come to their aid.

‘What does the smoke rising from every koppie across the Earthsky mean to you?’

The white-faced youth looked at Carnelian as if trying to find out what answer he wanted. He gave up. ‘Our old people claim, Master, it means the Standing Dead have invaded the Earthsky.’

Carnelian nodded heavily. It was confirmation of what he had hoped they would deny. No doubt this too had played a part in their decision not to join the Ochre. It was time to tell them about the massacre. As he described what had happened, he watched blood drain from their faces.

The youth’s eyes were popping. ‘All of them?’

‘All save Fern, Twostone Poppy… and Twostone Krow.’

Deliberately, Carnelian did not turn, but everyone else did, to stare at Krow.

After hearing his news, the Darkcloud were only too glad to flee the Koppie. Carnelian left them to make their preparations while he took Krow aside. The youth would not return his gaze. Carnelian felt no anger towards him, only sad disappointment. ‘Akaisha gave you words for Fern?’

Krow glanced up. ‘And for you.’

Carnelian heard that with a jolt.

‘She called you sister’s son.’

Carnelian squinted against tears.

‘She committed Fern into your care.’

Krow’s voice was as empty of emotion as his face. Carnelian felt the same confusion he had among the Marula. Anger rose in him that he was being denied the release of straightforward hatred. ‘What else did she say?’