hearth there was a catching of breath. Sil protested. Whin said something in anger.
Fern turned on her. 'As much as she's your granddaughter, she's my child.' He pointed at Carnelian. 'He's not like the rest of his kind. Look at the way he holds her. Is that the way you would hold a slave?'
Carnelian felt the little girl warm against his heart and, looking down, became trapped in her brown eyes. He could not help smiling at her.
'Does the way he holds a baby make him less of a danger to the Tribe?' Whin demanded.
This hearth is in their debt,' said Fern. 'Isn't it our tradition to honour our debts?'
That works for Plainsmen, not for the Standing Dead,' said Whin.
'He saved the souls of my husband and my son,' said Akaisha.
It made Carnelian miserable to be the reason for such conflict.
'By sacrilegious means,' said Whin.
'Do you doubt that I will make sure my son makes full recompense for his crime?' asked Akaisha. When Whin did not answer: 'As for the Standing Dead, here I am hearthmother and so I say that they are now as much a part of this hearth as are you.'
Whin looked outraged. 'And how will they earn their keep, my mother? Or does my mother intend we should slave for them as do the children they steal from us?'
Fern glanced at Carnelian holding his baby. They'll do as other men.'
'Work in the ditches with us; hunt?' one of the men said, startled.
'I can vouch for their strength and valour,' said Fern.
'So can I,' said Ravan.
Carnelian had forgotten he was there. He rose, the child safe in the crook of his arm, and reached out to clasp Fern's shoulder with his free hand. 'What's your punishment?'
Fern flushed. 'I'm to work beneath the Bloodwood Tree.'
Carnelian was none the wiser and felt he had only served to embarrass his friend in front of his kin. He made his decision even though he had no idea what he was committing himself to. Then I'll work with you there.'
Ravan leapt to his feet. The Master can't do that.'
'Sit down,' said Fern. 'Can't you see Carnie was only speaking for himself.' He turned to Carnelian. 'I appreciate the offer, but you don't understand. This is the Mother's work; something which men don't do, only women.'
'Nevertheless, I'll join you,' said Carnelian. He went over and gave Sil her baby. She looked from him to her husband, then back again. He sensed she had become aware of the feelings there were between them. Trying to hide his confusion, Carnelian pushed past Ravan, stepped over the rootbench and walked away.
'Carnie.'
Carnelian turned to see Akaisha following him. He watched her approach. Her voice when she spoke was low and conspiratorial.
'If you're determined to work with the women, then tomorrow you should come with me down to the earthworks.'
He smiled. 'Where I can cause you trouble as I did just now?'
'Don't you worry about Whin, she'll come round. The day after tomorrow it will be the turn of our hearth to work under the Bloodwood Tree. Tomorrow, the women there will be under the authority of Ginkga.'
'She voted for my death?'
Akaisha nodded.
'Nevertheless, my mother, I'm determined to share your son's punishment.' 'Why?'
There was anger in Akaisha's voice. Carnelian stooped and took her hand. 'I'm at least as responsible for Fern's sacrilege as he is himself and owe him many debts of gratitude. How could I let him suffer the punishment alone?'
'Is that all it is?'
Carnelian was glad the twilight hid his embarrassment. Take care where your emotions will lead you.' She gave his hand a squeeze and then returned to her hearth.
The twilight was thicker under the branches than it had been at the hearth, so that Carnelian had to take care picking his way across the root-ribbed hillside. He could just make out Osidian in their sleeping hollow, his face and hands like patches of moonlight.
The sky here is very deep,' a voice said.
'Are you not hungry?'
'Only to wake from this nightmare.'
Carnelian slipped into the hollow and stretched himself out beside Osidian.
'We can live here,' he asserted.
'I do not believe I can.'
Stars were coming alive in the darkening sky.
'We will have to work with them.'
'A Master shall not be seen to labour,' growled Osidian.
'What will you gain by quoting the Law at me? If we do not work, they will not give us food.'
Then I shall starve.'
Carnelian sat up but found he could not make out Osidian's face. Morning would be a better time for them to talk. He reached for a blanket and shook it open over them. He leaned across Osidian to make sure to cover him. His body seemed carved stone.
Carnelian lay back. Osidian would come round. He had to. Despair began catching at the edges of his mind. A burning vision of Osidian as he had been in Osrakum: a prince among books, music, palaces, slaves; all of such perfect beauty; the exquisite distillation of millennia. All wealth. All power. Osidian was to have been God. How could life among rude barbarians ever compare? There he lay beside him between the roots of a tree. What had he condemned him to?
Carnelian tried to find hope in the stars, but they seemed nothing but ice in a bleak sky. What had he thrown away for the sake of a love that must surely die?
Never again to see his Ebeny. Never to see Tain nor any other of his brothers; not one of the people he had known all his life. For him, all were now dead. His yearning for them was an ache, but there was a deeper grief choking him. His father. The father he had abandoned to Ykoriana's web.
THE BLOODWOOD TREE
Wife, you are the earth the giver of gifts the blessed mother of blood.
Come, sate my hunger.
(from a marriage ritual of the Plainsmen)
Carnelian was woken by Fern. 'Do you still want to come with me?'
It was too dark for Carnelian to see his friend's face.
'Yes,' he whispered, his heart still aching, wondering how long it was until dawn. As he made to rise, a hand reached up to pull him back.
'Where are you going?' asked Osidian.
Carnelian was glad of the gloom that hid his face. He explained the decision he had made to share Fern's punishment. Osidian withdrew his hand and turned away. Carnelian stared at his back, trapped between his promise to Fern and his feeling that he was deserting Osidian.
'I brought you some breakfast,' said Fern, pushing something into Carnelian's hand. He peered at the two crumbly discs.
'Rootflour cakes,' Fern said as he gave Carnelian two more. 'Give those to your brother.'
