Ricardo Pinto - The Standing Dead

Carnelian waited, searching Osidian's face. In some ways it was a stranger's but in the eyes there stirred something of the boy in the Yden.

Osidian looked deep into Carnelian. 'I've lost faith in my destiny and without it I am empty.'

Carnelian's body began responding to the plea in Osidian's voice and eyes, but when Osidian made to embrace him, he recoiled. He expected rage but Osidian merely dropped his arms and sank to the ground. When he looked up his face was lined with misery.

'Will you at least stay beside me tonight?'

In spite of everything, Carnelian's heart could not refuse him.

They lay on their backs in a hollow between the roots of a baobab, watching clouds flow westwards. Osidian began to speak in Vulgate.

'My faith has grown weaker than Morunasa's, though I'm certain he worships the same god as I. Without faith there's no certainty; without certainty, one is enslaved by doubt.'

Carnelian propped himself up on his elbow. 'What is it that you doubt?'

Osidian frowned. That I can defeat the legions with a rabble of savages.'

Carnelian denied himself the hope of reprieve there was in that. 'Is that all?'

Osidian's frown deepened. 'I have been too long in the company of barbarians. My blood no longer burns.' He grew sad.*Sometimes, I feel pity.'

Shame made Osidian beautiful. Carnelian ached for him, but he would rather cut off his arm than reach out to him.

Osidian pierced Carnelian with his eyes. 'Have you felt how much the Maruli is with his god?'

Carnelian was struggling for an answer when he saw Osidian's eyes had gone opaque. Pain suffused into his face.

'I need that certainty. I must know what he knows. I must feel what he has felt. I must hear the Darkness-under-the-Trees speak.'

'What are you talking about?'

‘I intend to submit myself to the ritual of initiation of an Oracle.'

Carnelian jerked to his feet. He paced away, then came back to glare down at Osidian. 'Have you lost your mind?' 'Haven't you been listening?'

Carnelian dropped his head, exasperated. 'You came to tell me this?'

'I came to prepare you.'

'For what?'

'My possible death.'

Carnelian slumped to the earth. He had spent so much time desiring Osidian dead and now the thought filled him with nothing but dread. 'What does this initiation involve?'

Carnelian saw how pale Osidian had become. His head was shaking as if he were seeing something too horrible to describe. His eyes closed.

Carnelian could not help fearing for him. 'What is it you're going to allow them to do to you?'

Osidian's eyes widened like a child's. 'All you need know is that I may die.'

Carnelian resisted an urge to violence.

'If on the twelfth day, I've not returned, you must go back to Osrakum. It won't be safe for you here.'

'Oh, it's as simple as that, is it? You die and then I'll just saunter back to Osrakum.'

Osidian's shoulders slumped. He raised his eyebrows and gazed at the ground. 'I don't know why I'm surprised. If you insist on not returning, then you must survive here.'

He looked around with distaste. 'It might be possible for you to undo what I have done. When I'm gone, the Plainsmen will obey you. With care and skill, you might be able to coax them back into their old ways. Listen carefully. The hostage children the Ochre hold, you must send back to their tribes. Some might try to continue the great hunts as I have taught them but these will quickly show themselves to be unsustainable. The heaveners near enough to the killing fields will soon be exhausted. The lesser saurians would have to be herded in such numbers that the procedure will be uncontrollable with a single tribe's resources. Hunger would soon make the barbarians revert to their traditional hunts. With the re-adoption of their ancient ways, the old would regain their ascendancy.'

'And the Commonwealth?'

'Give my body to the Wise. They'll not care about you once they have proof that I am dead.' Osidian shrugged. 'No doubt they'll make reprisals throughout the Earthsky but these will be measured; the Wise will not wish to damage the Plainsmen's breeding populations.'

'What about the saltcaves? The Plainsmen will not forget them and having this source of salt here, they're unlikely to want to serve in the legions.'

'Cut down the anchor baobabs. There are no other suitable replacement trees and the landslide has ensured that other anchor points cannot be built with the primitive skills the Plainsmen or the Marula have at their disposal.'

Carnelian frowned. This will destroy the Oracles and the Lower Reach Marula.'

'You are free to dream up another way to save your precious Plainsmen.'

Carnelian would search for other possibilities but was not confident he would find any. He was sure the sartlar would cut down the anchor baobabs at his command. He wondered what would happen to Kor and her people. A thought occurred to him.

'Neither the Oracles nor the Marula will allow this to be done.'

'Show the Marula the Ladder intact and they'll flee back to their lands below. I've made sure their commanders fell in battle. Without me, they are a rabble in a foreign land; a land they fear.' He smiled coldly. 'As for the Oracles, without me, they will be too weak to oppose you.'

'And if you do not die?'

Osidian looked away to where a copper sun hung molten in the sky. 'You had better hope I do. If I do not it will be because I shall be possessed by the God and then I will finish what I have begun.'

Carnelian saw how weary, how fragile Osidian appeared, but he was not feeling tender. 'I could kill you now.'

Osidian chuckled opening his arms wide. 'Do it. I would welcome the release from the canker of doubt that eats at me.'

Seeing in Osidian that which he had once loved, Carnelian turned away, melancholic as he watched the sun layering the sky with crimson.

Carnelian awoke in a red dawn and saw Osidian was already up. They made their way back to the knoll in silence. Before they reached it, Osidian veered towards the Marula camp around the Ladder baobabs. The black men rose, staring as the two Masters walked among them. Looking over the edge, Carnelian and Osidian saw that the Ladder had been brought more than half of the way up from the chasm floor. Osidian announced himself satisfied and they turned to face the Thunderfalls. The Isle of Flies lay sombre in the morning light. As they walked along the chasm edge towards it, Carnelian saw Morunasa and some other Oracles were waiting beneath the impaling post. He had no wish to go any further and took his leave of Osidian.

'Remember: the twelfth day,' Osidian said, in Quya.

Carnelian nodded. Osidian gazed at Morunasa and the Oracles as if they were his executioners. As Carnelian watched him walk towards them, he wondered if he would ever see him alive again.

Carnelian found Fern in the camp. As he had climbed the knoll, his heart had told him that his friend could not possibly have gone over to Osidian, but seeing him there before him, all Carnelian could see was his painted face.

'How did he force you to do that?' he said.

Fern frowned. 'All the commanders wear ash as a symbol of the Master to show they act in his name.'

'So he pressured you to lead one of his armies?'

'It was I who asked for a command.'

Carnelian shook his head, feeling bleak, empty. 'I would never have believed…'

Fern narrowed his eyes. 'What, Master, what would you never have believed? 1

There was still a part of Carnelian that refused to accept that Fern would betray the Plainsmen; betray their friendship. 'You are collaborating with him.'

Fern's eyes flamed. 'Is that what you think?'

Seeing Fern's anger, Carnelian became confused.

Fern leaned forward baring his teeth. 'Did it never occur to you that I became a commander to protect my people? What has our resistance to the Master achieved? By joining him, I have at least some chance of softening the effects of his conquests.'