Aurum made a gesture of annoyance. The matter is well in hand. If my Lord will indulge us with a little patience, I think he will find that the water will soon run clear.' He turned back to the legionary who was looking uncertainly from one Master to the other. 'Have the creatures been given the treatment specified?'
They have, Master.' The legionary snapped his fingers. One of the shadow men rose up, black as wood, gleaming, finely made. He stepped forward with grace and overtopped the legionary by more than a head. Indigo designs marbled his skin. His forearms were turned white by bracelets apparendy of bone. His slitted yellow eyes seemed to be searching for a direction in which he might find escape. Carnelian breathed in his animal odour.
Vennel drew back as if he feared contamination.
The legionary barked a command. The black man gave him an insolent look but slowly lifted his arms above his head. The bracelets clinked as they slid down to his elbows. Carnelian saw the puffy patch just under his ribs. The legionary stabbed this with his finger. The black man threw back his head, grimacing, red mouth rimmed with sharpened teeth. His fists were slow to unclench. Looking at the wound, Carnelian was impressed the man made no sound.
They've all been bitten in the same place. Even now the poison works in their flesh. Without the proper medicine they will die. They all know this and are by this knowledge bound into my Master's service more surely than if they still wore their service collars.'
'How long before the venom kills, them?' asked Aurum.
The legionary shrugged. That depends on each creature's strength, Master. Some will weaken in thirty days and be dead in forty. Others might survive longer.'
Distaste came up through Carnelian's numbness. He pitied them.
Aurum walked past the legionary to stand before that gathering of shadows and said, in Vulgate, 'Get up, slaves, so that you all may know those who are your Masters.'
The Marula rose, unfolding their knotted limbs. Some dared to show their teeth. Carnelian was struck by their beauty. They were almost as tall as the Masters and had something of their poise and pride. They could have been Chosen reflected in a mirror of obsidian.
'Filthy brutes,' muttered Vennel with his woman's voice.
Vennel argued with the other Masters the rest of the way down the stairway. Carnelian was remembering Crail and hardly listened. The gist of it seemed to be that Vennel felt that changes had been made in their plans without his approval. He could see no reason why they needed Marula or why their collars had been removed, however elaborate the measures taken for their control.
The stairway brought them eventually to a wide landing. From this, one last flight went down into a cave, cobbled like a courtyard, rib-vaulted, lit by lanterns hanging from chains. The ribs stood like tree trunks all around the walls. Between them, grilles flickered with the fires that burned behind and gates gave into dim rooms and corridors beyond. Carnelian saw all of this with a single glance, before his eyes were drawn to the creatures that were fidgeting over to one side: graceful two-legged saurians, far taller than the grooms who held them.
The Marula swarmed down the steps. Carnelian remained behind with the Masters, Tain and the new boy.
'Where are the palanquins?' Vennel asked, an edge to his voice.
Carnelian knew the saurians must be aquar. He watched them, enthralled by their liquid movements.
There are to be no palanquins, my Lord,' Aurum said to Vennel.
Carnelian turned to look for Tain and found that his brother and the other boy had crept to his side. Their eyes were following the graceful creatures.
Then how are we to travel?' asked Vennel.
'Is it not obvious that we are to ride, my Lord?' said Jaspar.
'Ride?' said Vennel. 'What of the decision that was made in the Legate's hall?'
Carnelian watched the saurians' dancer's walk and their heads floating high above their grooms.
Vennel looked around for an answer. 'And since when do the Chosen ride?’
'Would my Lord prefer to walk to Osrakum?' said Jaspar.
'First the collarless barbarians and now this. I must insist that these changes be ratified in formal conclave.'
'Do you have any doubt, Vennel, that such a ratification would take place?' The tone of contempt in Jaspar's voice caused Vennel to look round at him.
'At the very least I must have time to contact my household to make-'
'If you do, then we must leave without you, my Lord,' said Aurum. 'Even as we speak the tide comes in. Soon it will submerge the road we must take.' He was watching the Marula move among the aquar.
'Wind made flesh,' muttered Carnelian, recalling something his father had once said.
Vennel turned his long mask towards him. 'Did you say something, my Lord?' He sounded livid.
Carnelian ignored him. He had no wish to speak to Vennel, no wish to speak to any of the Masters. Instead, he went down the steps towards the aquar, trailing Tain and the other boy after him.
Up close, the aquar had a dun surface, mottled, mosaic-scaled, dull-gleaming. A groom held the reins. Carnelian followed these up to the swaying snake-scaled heron head, the narrow snout, the stone bit wedged into the angle of the jaws, the eyes' discs of green glass, as large as apples.
Plumes flared suddenly above the eyes like salmon-pink peacock fans. Its body lurched, giving off a strong animal odour. Reins tautened, straining. Carnelian stepped back. He was aware of the nervously clenching three- fingered hands, and of the scrape and thump of the clawed bird feet longer than his own leg. The groom wound his forearm into the reins, ran his hand along the sweating flank, made low whistling noises. As the creature calmed, Carnelian reached out. He expected its skin to be slimy cold, but instead it had a smooth-pebbled warmth. He was thrilled to feel the tremble of its heart.
'So beautiful,' he sighed.
The groom grinned like an idiot and made a bobbing bow. 'Master ride yes?'
The saddle-chair sat on the aquar's long back, held there by the girth that passed under its belly. Carnelian stretched up to the chair rim. He ran his hand along the cracked barrelling wood. He could not reach high enough to follow its curve right up. It narrowed to form a crude back. It was like a small round boat. Bone knobs and hoops bristled the sides. Some had broken off, frayed knots of rope clung to others. The whole chair was grained with dirt.
Carnelian looked round at other saddle-chairs. Each had its own shape. One had a wider back, another had long staples instead of hoops, from yet another tackle hung down like torn ship's rigging. All shared the same unkempt, patched and filthy look. They were hardly the seats of Masters.
'We're being called away.' It was Tain. Carnelian had forgotten him. His brother pushed something hard into his hand and walked off. Carnelian opened his fingers and saw that it was Ebeny's Little Mother. He shoved the stone into a pocket, tucking its thong in after.
The groom was still bobbing and grinning. 'Master ride yes?'
Carnelian saw that the other Masters were wandering among the aquar like shoppers at a fair. The aquar Carnelian was standing near looked to him as strong as any of the others. Its saddle-chair was no worse. He shrugged. He would take it though he could see no way to climb up.
He turned to the groom. 'Master ride yes.'
The groom showed a few stump teeth, then jerked the reins. The aquar shifted and adjusted its weight from one foot to the other a few times, then its legs hinged forward as it settled to the ground.
The saddle-chair now no higher than Carnelian's waist was a curved hollow padded with worn leather strips. Even through his nose filter, Carnelian detected something of the odour of its last owner. He conquered his disgust and gripped the chair rim. The groom gave an encouraging nod. Carnelian vaulted and fell untidily into the seat. He tried to slide into position even as the reins were being thrust into his hand. The groom whistled. With a sudden lurch Carnelian was pushed upwards. It was the slide down the chair that choked off his cry. He panicked as he kept sliding. Then his buttocks slapped against something hard and he stopped dead.
Dazed, he saw the brown column of the creature's neck was there before him. His legs poked straight out on either side. The chair lurched as the aquar shifted. Its eye-plumes rustled and quivered their pink just above him.
'Put your feet in the stirrups, my Lord.' It was his father's voice.
