'I must make sure our people are ready: Keal, the tyadra, the baggage. How much time is there, my Lord, before we all leave?'
His father's hand jabbed a sharp negation. 'Surely you had understood that they are not to come with us?'
'My Lord?'
They are an encumbrance we cannot risk. Their faces proclaim who we are.'
Carnelian felt sick. 'But I gave assurances.'
His father's eyes narrowed. 'Which you should not have given.'
Carnelian opened his mouth to say more.
His father's hand flew up, Enough! 'Whatever it is that you have said it is my will to overrule. You may take Tain because he does not yet bear our mark. What little state you are allowed, he will keep.'
'Will he be safe?'
His father looked at him, confused. 'What?' His hand made a vague gesture. 'As safe as you or I.'
Jaspar came towards them, his ranga and bandaged legs lending him the gait of someone wading through water. He pursed his lips. 'One fears this journey will be exceedingly tedious.'
Vennel raised his voice behind them. All four Masters turned to listen to him. 'I shall go to make sure my household have made the preparations I commanded.'
There is no time for that, my Lord,' Aurum said quickly.
Jaspar moved off towards them. 'We must hold a conclave ere we leave this tower, Vennel.'
Suth turned to join them, but Carnelian reached up to touch his arm. His father turned back. 'What is it?'
Carnelian could see the irritation in his face. 'Might I be permitted enough time to return to the household to bid them all farewell?'
His father frowned.
'And to ensure all arrangements properly made?' Carnelian added.
The other Masters were now involved in some kind of argument.
'If you must,' his father snapped. 'But do not dally. A guide will be there to bring our baggage to the gate. Let him lead you. I shall be going there immediately…' He looked over to the others.'… with the other Lords.'
Carnelian walked as quickly as his ranga shoes would allow. Each step clattered echoes round the hall. When he reached their door the banners of House Suth no longer flanked it. He was wondering if he had come to the wrong one when he heard muffled voices. He flung his weight against the door. It gave way slowly, heavily. As he squeezed through the opening he trod on something and bent to pick it up. It was an iris, crushed, its bruised purple skin dusted with its own pollen.
Running up towards him, Tain stopped to look him up and down, no doubt startled by the strange clothes and the ranga shoes. Thank the Gods you've come, Carnie.'
He cast a quick, unhappy look around him. People were wrapping vases in the blue canopies. Someone cried, The Master.' People dropped to the ground. A cloth came loose and wriggled down to the floor. Among them a single figure was left standing. It was Keal, his look so intense that Carnelian almost dropped his gaze. He felt shamed.
'You're not going,' he said in a thin voice. It was difficult to squeeze the words out; his throat seemed to have narrowed. People were looking up at him from their prostrations. Everywhere he saw their bewildered eyes. Anger surged in him. He lumbered forward and slapped a stack of boxes. They crunched to the floor. A bowl rolled and shattered. 'Why are you packing? You must all be stupid. You're not going, I tell you.'
'We're being moved into the slave pens,' said Keal. 'When the arrangements have been made we'll be setting off after you along the road.'
Carnelian noticed a man's back wearing the Legate's green. The stranger was the only one still prostrate. 'You!' he shouted. The man trembled. 'Yes, I'm talking to you.' The man looked up. The Legate's sign marred his face like a birthmark. Carnelian pointed at him. 'Get out and wait for me outside.' The man stumbled to his feet and cringed past Carnelian, who watched him slip out between the doors before turning back to his people.
Keal's eyes, Tain's eyes, so many eyes.
Carnelian removed his mask and bowed his head a little, giving in to its heaviness. 'I did what I could. I can't see what more you could expect of me.'
Keal nodded, but did not stop looking at him with pain in his face and something like an accusation of betrayal.
'Crail's gone,' said Tain.
Carnelian turned on him. 'What do you mean he's gone?'
The Master left a command that we were to hand him over to the other Master's men. The ones with the line tattoo,' said Keal, running his finger from his forehead down the bridge of his nose to his lips.
Blood drained from Carnelian's face. His father had given Crail to Aurum. 'When?'
They came for him just after you left with the Master.'
Carnelian wrung his hands, stared blindly, chewed at his lower lip. He felt snared and bleeding in a trap. 'Maybe it's not too late,' he muttered. He strode over to Keal. A pain of love passed between them. They embraced hard. 'Look after them, brother,' said Carnelian.
He felt Keal's nod against his chest. He disengaged, making sure he did not look into his face. Sniffing, he turned to the others, all standing now. 'Don't fear that I'll forget you. Take care on the road. I'll be waiting for you in our coomb in the Mountain.'
He looked at Tain and saw he was struggling to hold back tears. Carnelian made his decision. 'You're staying here.'
Tain looked appalled. 'But I'm supposed to go with you.'
Carnelian shook his head. 'It'll be too dangerous.'
'Who's going to take care of you?'
Keal wiped his eyes and pointed towards a heap of carefully bound parcels. 'Everything's ready. It would take ages to separate his things from yours.'
Tain looked at Keal gratefully.
'He'll look after you for us,' said Keal and there were several nods behind him.
Carnelian saw the tearful determination in their faces. 'I've no time for this. Tain, come if you must.'
Tain started scooping up the parcels. Another boy Carnelian did not know helped him. His face was also unmarked. Tain caught his brother looking at the boy. 'He's new.'
'For the Master's care?' Carnelian asked.
'Bought locally.'
'Come on, then. Take one of those lanterns. We must hurry if we're going to have any chance to save Crail.'
Once through the door, Carnelian tried to move fast, but the ranga resisted his efforts. He tripped and almost fell. He stopped to calm himself. The others stood nearby gaping at him. Carnelian bent down and undid the straps of the shoes. He stepped down off them, picked them up, then lurched off with long strides. Even through the bandages he could feel the floor's cold stone. The hall echoed with the irregular scuffles the others made as they struggled to keep up with him.
When they had passed the door of the silver ammonites, Carnelian found three archways to choose from. He swung round to find the guide. The man was some way back, flustered, panting. His lantern wobbled its light across the floor and up and down the columns. Carnelian went back, tore it from his hand, then grabbed some of Tain's burden. He ignored his brother's protests at the impropriety and took some more boxes from the new boy, who stared with wide-eyed disbelief at the strange young Master.
Carnelian turned to the guide. 'Which way?'
The guide pointed at one of the archways and Carnelian plunged into it.
Passages, gates, Carnelian blazed a trail for them through the blackness. It seemed a long time till they reached the stairway. The portcullis that led to it was raised. Above them its toothed edge just caught the light. Carnelian held his lantern up and saw the wide shallow steps going down. Looking back he saw the knot that Tain and the others made. 'I'll go ahead,' he cried to them. 'You lot follow as fast as you can.'
Finding each step was difficult. Carnelian could hardly see them through the eyeslits of his mask. He put the
