Ricardo Pinto - The Standing Dead

Carnelian saw the truth of it and was ashamed.

Fern's lip curled. 'Who are you to accuse me when, after everything he has done, you chose to spend the night with him?'

Carnelian was outraged. His pride spoke: 'What business is that of yours?'

They glared at each other. Carnelian could not find a way out of his anger. Fearing what he might say next, Carnelian desired only to end their meeting. The Master has gone to the Isle of Flies. While he is gone, I am to rule in his place.'

'What then are your commands, Master?'

Carnelian cast around for some instruction. 'Just make sure that you keep order here in the camp.'

Fern's curt nod and his 'You shall be obeyed, Master' made Carnelian wince. Turning, he walked away.

That night, Carnelian took Poppy with him when he went to look for Fern's fire to apologize. When they found Fern, his cold greeting left Carnelian unwilling to speak. At least Fern had washed his face. A growl made them both turn to see Poppy scowling, her hands on her hips.

'You're both behaving like children.'

Carnelian and Fern stared at her, startled. They looked at each other. Carnelian tried a smile. 'I should have trusted you.'

Fern looked pained. 'And I had no right to -'

'We just talked,' Carnelian said, quickly.

'Hug each other,' Poppy commanded.

Awkwardly, grinning, they obeyed her. As they released each other, Carnelian felt embarrassed by the look in Fern's eyes. 'Aren't you going to offer us some food?'

Fern became flustered and Carnelian and Poppy exchanged a secret smile. She threw herself at the Plainsman so that he was forced to catch her. She buried her face in his neck.

A scent of roasting fernroot rose from the fire.

'Where's Ravan?' Poppy asked.

Carnelian had forgotten about him. 'He's not here?'

Fern looked grim. 'He remained in the Koppie.'

Carnelian raised his eyebrows. 'Have things grown worse between him and the Master?'

Fern grew angry. 'It's not my brother's fault. At every opportunity, the Master humiliates him. Time and time again he has passed him over to give others a command. When I dared to intervene, the Master told me, curtly, that he needed my brother as an interpreter. I offered myself in that capacity but he turned me down, not that he needs one, so many of the army speak Vulgate. It's as if he is deliberately trying to grind him down.'

Carnelian gave Fern a suggestive look. Fern shook his head. 'I'd swear they've not been lovers for a long time.'

'You can tell?'

Fern looked Carnelian deep in the eyes, nodding. 'I can tell.'

Carnelian looked away. Another motive occurred to Carnelian that made him go cold. 'Was it Ravan himself who chose to return to the Koppie?'

'Can you blame him?'

'But the Master let him go?'

Fern's nod confirmed Carnelian's fear. He tried to conceal what he was feeling but saw how worried both of them had become.

'What is it?' Poppy asked, her eyes very round. Carnelian shook his head. 'Nothing,' he said, then busied himself with fishing a cooked root from the flames.

As the days passed no news came across the water from the Isle of Flies. Carnelian's dreams were haunted by his imaginings of what was being done to Osidian there. The conviction grew in him that Osidian was already dead. He became increasingly desperate to complete work on the Ladder and drove the sartlar harder than he had ever done before. He had told Fern everything and, in the time they spent together, they planned what they would do once Carnelian stood in Osidian's place.

One day, a pygmy appeared in the camp. It was Fern who brought him to Carnelian. The little man cowered then fell prostrate at his feet. Fern stooped to lift him but stayed his hand. The pygmy's back was smeared with blood. Crouching, then leaning closer, Carnelian saw disfiguring scars. He called for some water and, himself, carefully washed the brown skin as the little man shook with pain and fear. Carnelian sat back.

'What are you seeing?' Fern asked, his face screwed up in horror.

This man is a messenger sent to tell us the Master still lives.'

Fern frowned. 'But the pygmy has said nothing.' Carnelian pointed. 'It is these marks that speak.' Quyan glyphs cut into the little man's back read: 'My Father speaks to me.'

The next day, Fern found Carnelian with the sartlar. The Ladder cables had finally reached the edge of the chasm and Carnelian was overseeing their attachment to the anchor trees.

'I must speak to you,' Fern said.

'Not now.'

'A messenger's come from the Earthsky with news.'

Carnelian turned, exasperated, but his heart almost stopped when he saw how pale Fern looked. He told Kor to take over and led Fern away from the trees.

'What's happened?' Carnelian demanded.

The Tribe have risen against the Master.'

Carnelian grabbed Fern. 'Has this news been sent across to the Isle of Flies?'

'Who would dare?'

Carnelian clasped his head in despair. 'You knew, didn't you?' said Fern. 'I feared it.'

'How…?' Fern's face drained of blood. 'Ravan,' he breathed.

Carnelian's hands dropped to his side and he nodded heavily.

Fern's eyes widened with realization. The Master did it on purpose. The bastard did it on purpose. But why?'

The Ochre have witnessed his humiliation.' Carnelian massaged his forehead, thinking furiously.

'You can do what you want, Carnie, but I'm going home immediately.'

Carnelian stared at him in fear. 'And do what?'

Fern swung his head as if in pain. 'I don't know: stop it; perhaps raise the other tribes to join the revolt.'

'How hated have we become among the other tribes?'

'We killed their men; we took their children.'

Carnelian saw how hopeless it was. The Tribe has fallen into the Master's trap. Having removed themselves from his protection, there is nothing to stop the other tribes taking their revenge. Only the Master can save them now.'

'And if he chooses not to?'

Then I will fight with you against him.'

They looked at each other grimly.

'Will you wait for me, Fern?' 'Where are you going?'

For answer, Carnelian looked off towards the Isle of Flies.

This is madness,' said Fern as he watched Carnelian pace back and forth along the riverpath. 'Once the Oracles have you both on their island, what's to stop them killing you?'

Carnelian halted and glared at his friend. 'Only the Master could have carved that obscene message into the pygmy's back and he wouldn't have sent it if he were a prisoner of the Oracles.'

'So you've said, but is that enough to risk your life on?'

A movement drew their eyes across the angry river to where a boat, appearing from the Isle of Flies, was snatched then carried swiftly in the flow. In the stern the hunched figure of an Oracle was working an oar that projected behind the boat.

The river's going to take him over the falls,' said Fern, staring.

Carnelian shook his head, i don't believe an Oracle would make such a mistake.'

Though he-had been losing hope of finding a way across, now that he saw a boat coming for him Carnelian gazed with dread at the brooding mass of the banyan. He could feel the pressure of blood in his ears as he faced the real consequences of his choice. He fought a desire to flee.

Nearing the bank, the boat was being carried rapidly downstream. Carnelian and Fern strode back along the riverpath keeping parallel with it. Wrapped in his indigo robes, the Oracle was rowing the oar back and forth with furious speed. Carnelian wondered at the man's strength. As the boat knifed into the bank, the current snatched at its stern and swung it round. Carnelian scrambled down to help, hearing Fern cursing behind him, and was relieved when he sensed him following. The Oracle slipped over the stern into the water, spread his arms and grasped the gunwale, then began to drag the boat up out of the river. Gripping the prow, Carnelian helped. The Oracle looked up and Carnelian was able to see his face.