are.'
They crept back to where the others were still mounted and waited, listening, watching.
At last the Darkcloud returned. Even though they were nothing but shadows, Carnelian could sense their rage. Their voices rose as they all began to speak at once.
'Choose one of you to speak,' Carnelian hissed.
One of them was pushed forward.
The filthy bastards have cut down two mother trees.' They could hear that the man was close to tears.
'Manila?' asked Krow.
'A plague of them.'
'How many?' Carnelian asked.
'Hundreds.'
Carnelian grimaced. It was what he had most feared. 'Are they camped?'
The man's snort was echoed by the others. They're sprawled out over the rootearths of Magnolia, Erth, Ceda -'
'How many hearths? How densely?' Carnelian interrupted.
'Six.' He shrugged. 'Less than a hundred at each. All in a tight cluster in the north of the grove.'
Carnelian nodded. 'In the shade of the crags.' The Manila outnumbered his men at least four to one. There might be too many of them.'
The Darkcloud began protesting and Carnelian hissed them to silence.
'I'm with them,' said Krow, coldly.
Carnelian leaned close to the spokesman. 'Anything else?'
The western edge of the grove where they came in is crowded with aquar.'
They're covered in sores,' someone said from behind him.
The spokesman nodded. 'By the looks of them, the bastards haven't unhitched their drag-cradles or unsaddled them for days.'
'Probably don't know how to,' said Carnelian.
'Drag-cradles?' said Krow.
'Loaded with djada, water.'
Carnelian did not need to be able to see Krow's face to know they shared the same thought. Stolen from another massacred tribe.
That made Carnelian's mind up. 'Are they sleeping?'
The spokesman nodded. 'Fires dowsed, they lie around them.'
'Well, let's make sure most of them never wake again.'
They fell on them with mattocks as if they were beating undergrowth to drive game. A quarter of the Manila had their heads staved in as they slept. The rest woke to mayhem. Carnelian swung against another skull, memories of the Twostone massacre, of Poppy orphaned, driving away his instinct that this was dishonourable. Still, he was relieved when a number of the Manila found their spears. Butchery became battle and the Marula still outnumbered them. Carnelian cast away his bloodied mattock, took his spear in both hands and leapt to the attack, baying. Though dwarfed by the black men, the Darkcloud crashed into them and pushed them back. Some of the invaders fell, their ankles catching on the cedar roots. Others rolled, lost their spears, stumbled to their knees and were up trying to run down the slope. Their ranks were dissolving as Carnelian impaled one in the chest. The man fell clasping the spear haft, his teeth set in a grimace of surprise. Carnelian put his foot on the man and pulled. The spear came free, spurting hot blood onto his legs. He paused, reeling, watching the Manila fleeing, falling, rolling while Krow led the Plainsmen down the rootsteps after them, screaming with battle-lust.
Carnelian turned slowly, seeing the hillside in the light of the smouldering fires. He approached one, seeing the great bough in its midst from which the flames had taken a wide charcoal-edged bite. The soft bark showed it was cedar wood, the amputated limb of a mother tree. He wandered emotionless up towards the mutilated trees. He touched one, her proud head fallen into the earth, her branches broken, her waist splintered. He glanced down the hill and saw the Manila had fled out into the fern-gardens where he had set Plainsmen to hunt them on aquar.
Something pale caught the corner of his eye. He whisked round and saw a house of bones nestling up among the crags. Smoke was leaking from it. He remembered the charred floor of the Twostone Ancestor House. Hefting his spear, he strode towards it. He found steps cut into the rock and climbed them. When he set his foot upon the porch the smoke was thick enough to sting his eyes. A leather door was set into the wall. He crept to it and listened and heard nothing. Tearing the door back, he entered.
Three Manila were lit by a blaze set into a pelvis in the floor. Two lay as if asleep. The third sat against a frieze of skulls, regarding him with disdain. Even under then-powdery covering of ash, Carnelian could see this Maruli was much younger than the other two.
'Are you what you seem?' the Maruli asked in smooth Vulgate.
Carnelian stared. 'You speak…?'
The man grinned his sharpened teeth and displayed a pale palm upon which there were some service glyphs. 'I served long in the service of the Masters.'
Carnelian saw that the man was identical to the Manila who had escorted him from the sea to Osrakum. When he indicated the other Manila, the man shook his head. They never served the Masters.' He raised his eyebrows.
'Yes, I am a Master,' Carnelian said in response to the man's earlier question. He put a finality in the tone that told the Maruli he would answer no more. The man showed his feral teeth again.
'And I am Morunasa,' he jabbed an arm in the direction of his older companions, 'with these others, Oracle and slave of the Darkness-under-the-Trees.'
'What are you doing here?'
Before the Maruli had a chance to answer, Carnelian was aware of someone coming in behind him. Turning, he saw it was Krow, staring in horror at the fire smouldering on the bony floor. His gaze jumped to the two Manila and settled on Morunasa. Carnelian moved to intercept him as the youth, teeth bared, raised his spear. He caught hold of Krow, who struggled.
'His filthy feet.'
Carnelian held him fast. 'Don't you want to know why your tribe was massacred?'
Krow searched Carnelian's eyes. As he felt the youth relax, he let him go. Krow threw his head back to indicate the world outside.
The Darkcloud will be here any moment. Do you imagine you'll be able to stop them killing,' his lips curled in disgust as he looked at Morunasa, 'that ravening bastard!'
Carnelian addressed the Maruli. 'If the others find you here in their holy place, they'll kill you.' He pointed at the other two Manila. 'Wake them.'
Morunasa shook his head. 'They will not wake.'
'What's wrong with them?' cried Krow.
Morunasa regarded him with yellow eyes. They commune with our Lord.'
Carnelian could see Krow was unsettled by this. 'We can carry them.'
Too late. Men pushed into the room past Krow: Darkcloud, their bloodied faces becoming childlike in their dismay. One fell to his knees sobbing. Another advanced, a spear shaking in his hand, tears drawing channels through his mask of gore.
'Would you defile this place further with their stinking blood?' said Krow in Vulgate.
The Darkcloud hesitated, his brow creasing with agonied indecision. One of the others said something, swinging his arms and looking out, and the rest nodded grimly, their eyes fixing murderously on the Marula.
Momnasa stared at them, licking his Hps. He fixed his eyes on Carnelian. 'Master, save our lives and I'll tell you everything you want to know and give you incomparable wealth besides.'
The Darkcloud empted into a baying bloodlust but Carnelian dared to stand in their way. 'Hear me,' he bellowed.
They almost turned their spears on him, but he faced them down.
'You will have to give your tribe an account of this defilement of your home. And then there's the Master.'
