Osidian's condition unchanged. His moroseness discouraged conversation. Ravan was often there, resentful as he helped his brother with the feeding, with the unhitching, with the hitching that every morning freed Carnelian from the blinding rain. As he was angled up he was able to blink his eyes open and peer blearily at the infinite, drear monotony of the Guarded Land.
Against that landscape, Fern and his brother were often the only living things Carnelian could see. He became intuitive in reading their moods, seeing past the masks of fear they wore. Their grief was deepening and he felt he knew the cause: he could not recall the last time he had heard their father's voice.
The raiders pressed on towards Makar. Each day that passed put another twist of dread into their stomachs as they searched the horizon for the scouring line and its dragons.
The drag-cradle came suddenly to a halt. Carnelian heard Ravan cry out, then Fern. Young voices were making a commotion. Carnelian shook himself out of his stupor, anxious to know what was going on. Facing away from the barbarians, all he could do was strain to pick out their voices.
'Does he live?' asked Ranegale. There were some words Carnelian could not catch, then: 'Put him back in his saddle-chair.'
'We must make another cradle.' Fern's voice, sounding frightened.
'We've no time for that,' said Ranegale.
'We'll make time.' Cloud's voice. 'Do you really believe he'd be lying there in the mud if he had the strength to ride?'
'He gave you the cord, Cloud. How many knots does it hold now?'
For a while Carnelian could hear only the whispering of the youths. 'Seven.'
'Our best hope is that whatever's delaying the scouring line will keep it in Makar for five days more. That's already bleak enough don't you think, Father Cloud? And now you've decided to back Fern in what will cause us at least half a day's delay.'
'Let's dump one of the Standing Dead,' said Ravan. 'My one's fever is going to get him anyway so we might as well use his cradle for my father.'
Ranegale's nasal voice rose to a bellow: 'No. We need them both alive.'
'Why?' demanded Cloud.
There was a silence during which Carnelian struggled but the leather bands were too tight.
'Why doesn't my father let us all in on his plan to get through the scouring line should we run into it.'
'My plan is that which Stormrane trusted me with. We fire some kraals and when the auxiliaries come to see what's happening we slip through the gap they leave in the line.'
There were murmurs of support.
'So you all feel this is a good plan, eh? I'd like to see you set fire to rain-sodden wood.'
Voices rose in protest.
'Listen. Listen! That's not really important. If you'll listen, I'll tell you what is. Have you any idea how close the roads have come on either side of us?'
They all fell silent.
'I can see you do. Well, imagine now how close together the aquar twenties will be in the line. It will be a city wall with dragons as its towers. Most of us have seen how fast dragons can move and we all know perfectly well how swift unburdened aquar run. The Standing Dead in the dragons' towers will spot us the moment we make a break for it. They'll close the gap like this.'
A slap like whiplash.
Then we'll just have to creep through at night,' said Fern.
'If you'd stayed in the legions more than a few days you wouldn't be saying anything so stupid. They'll set their fires close enough for their light to overlap. Even if they didn't we'd never be able to time it. No. If we run into them there's only one way we'll get through. We'll have to move one of the dragons out of line.'
Everyone began shouting at once. Carnelian strained to hear Ranegale's voice among the others. He caught the phrase, 'Standing Dead'. The hubbub quietened.
'We'll leave them both, or maybe just one of them, in a kraal to be found by the auxiliaries.'
'Rather than suffer death for having looked on them, they'd murder them,' said Fern. 'How would their commanders ever find out?'
'We'll tie them up to the kraal's outer wall so they can be seen from the dragon towers. Of course the poor bastards will all die for seeing our Standing Dead, but it'll bring a dragon. With luck, more than one.'
'And you think this would make a breach in their line big enough for us to race through?' asked Cloud. From the tone of his voice Carnelian could tell the Elder was already half convinced.
'You're going to hand them over alive?' asked Fern, incredulous.
'If we give them corpses, the auxiliaries will leave them guarded in a kraal and then hunt us down,' said Ranegale.
'And alive, our Standing Dead will bring them down on us like lightning,' said Fern.
'Can you imagine the confusion when they find two living Standing Dead out here? Dead they'll bring down swift vengeance: alive, perhaps they'll open us a door in the scouring line. We'll flee towards Makar. Once we reach the pass we'll lose any pursuit. They'll never find us in the Earthsky.'
They'll close the pass against us,' said Fern.
Their laws forbid it for at least another twenty days.'
'Don't you think they'll overturn their laws to avenge two of their own?'
'Cloud, give me the reckoning cord.'
Carnelian could hear the movement of an aquar.
'Look at how few knots lie between us and Makar. If this cloud cover holds they won't be able to use the speaking mirrors. Their couriers, we might outrun.'
'With drag-cradles?' asked Cloud.
'We'll have to ditch those,' said Ranegale. 'Glare all you like, Fern. You know as well as I do there's no other way.'
'Fern,' Cloud said. 'You can cut their hearts out, take them home and, in your koppie, give them to the sky.' 'What about my father?' Fern demanded.
'Ranegale, are you sure we need both the Standing Dead?' Loskai interrupted.
They're our only hope and one of them already looks like he might die,' said Ranegale. 'Besides, we might be able to use the trick twice to widen the opening in the line. We daren't throw away any chance.'
'What… about… my… father?' Ravan squeezed the words out one at a time through his rage.
As the barbarians fell to arguing Carnelian closed his eyes. The pain in Ravan's voice had awoken in him a memory of the anguish he had known on the road when his own wounded father had been close to death. He forced himself to work out what he should do. When he had it, to make sure they would listen, he hardened his heart and became a Master. When he spoke, his voice had the characteristic resonance of power.
'What is all that noise about?'
The arguing died. Carnelian felt the judder as Fern jumped down from his saddle-chair. He heard the sucking footfalls of aquar approaching. The ground trembled as they began moving round into sight. Barbarian faces frowned down at him, then Fern appeared at his side. Seeing the pain in his face, Carnelian faltered, dropping the attempt at imperiousness.
Tell me what all the arguing is about. Please.'
Ranegale's eye flashed. 'Why should we tell you anything?'
Fern looked to Cloud, who shrugged. 'What harm can it do?'
Once he had Fern's gaze again, Carnelian held it as the man began recounting the arguments.
'Well then,' Carnelian said, when Fern was done. The solution is simple. Your father must lie here and I'll take his place in the saddle-chair.'
Ravan stared. Ranegale sneered through the cloth wrapped around his face, 'We might not be angels, Master, but that doesn't make us fools.'
Without disengaging his eyes, from Carnelian's, Fern said: 'He wouldn't try to escape as long as we hold the
