The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 (76 page)

Carnelian
watched
the
riders
fade
into
the
grey
south among
gentle
hills
that
would
soon
become
islands.
He had
been
left
with
clear
instructions,
delivered
by Osidian
as
if
they
were
strangers.
By
using
Quya,
Osidian had
ensured
that
only
Carnelian
could
be
aware
of
his plan.
Carnelian
had
had
to
obey
him.
If
he
had
refused
to command
the
men
left
behind,
Osidian
had
said
he
would abandon
them
all
to
the
revenge
of
the
Bluedancing.

Carnelian
could
feel
his
men
staring
at
his
back.
He leaned
close
to
Fern.
'Will
you
be
my
second?'

Fern
grimaced.
The
Elders
will
like
taking
orders
from me
even
less
than
from
you.'

Carnelian
yearned
to
rid
himself
of
the
burden
of command.
He
forced
himself
to
look
round.
The
Ochre remaining
were
massed
on
the
ridge,
sunk
into
their saddle-chairs,
miserable
in
the
downpour,
many wounded,
all
disheartened,
every
one
of
them
older
than him.
Their
eyes
accused
him.

Carnelian
turned
back.
'If
that's
how
they
feel,
then they
shouldn't
have
agreed
to
follow
the
Master
in
the
first place.'

'What
options
did
we
have?'
said
Fern.

'Do
you
believe
I'm
less
trapped
than
you?'

'Have
you
more
experience
of
war
than
the
veterans?'

'You
know
perfectly
well
I
don't,
though
I'd
question how
much
experience
they
have
of
fighting
on
foot.'

Fern
had
no
answer
to
that.
He
smiled
winningly. Things
are
as
they
are,
Carnie,
but
you
know
you
can count
on
me.'

Carnelian
had
them
all
dismount.
The
kneeling
aquar were
hobbled
to
ensure
they
could
not
wander
away.
He oversaw
the
removal
of
their
saddle-chairs.
The Plainsmen
looked
at
him
as
if
he
were
mad
when
he asked
them
to
pile
the
chairs
in
a
heap.
Discontent
turned to
outrage
when
he
told
them
to
set
the
heap
alight.

'Do
you
want
to
bring
the
Bluedancing
down
on
us?'
said Crowrane.

That's
exactly
what
I
want.'

Carnelian's
answer
produced
incredulous
consternation.

'All
of
them?'
said
Loskai,
scowling.

'If
we're
on
foot,
they'll
ride
us
down,'
said
Crowrane.

That's
what
the
Master
hopes
they'll
think.
You
saw how
carefully
he
chose
this
site?
He
knows
what
he's doing.'

Krow
was
nodding.

'How
do
you
imagine
we're
going
to
be
able
to
ride home
without
our
saddle-chairs?'
demanded
Kyte.

'Let's
worry
about
that
when
we're
victorious,'
said Carnelian.

The
Plainsmen
fell
silent
as
the
desperate
reality
of
the situation
soaked
into
them.

The
moment
they
see
us,
the
Bluedancing
will
know only
half
of
us
are
here,'
said
Fern.

Carnelian
was
relieved
that
they
were
beginning
to move
along
the
path
of
argument
Osidian
had
predicted. 'Knowing
that,
what
do
you
think
the
Bluedancing
will imagine
is
the
reason
we're
making
all
this
smoke?'

He
was
answered
with
many
frowns.

Understanding
came
over
Fern's
face.
'A
signal.
They can't
know
how
many
of
us
attacked
them
last
night. They'll
assume
we're
signaling
the
Tribe
to
send
the
rest of
our
men.'

Fern
looked
out
across
the
lagoon
bed
in
the
direction Osidian
had
ridden.
The
Master
will
come
at
them
from an
unexpected
direction.'

As
Carnelian
gave
a
nod,
he
saw
a
tinge
of
confidence dawning
in
the
faces
around
him.

Loskai,
alone,
retained
his
scowl.
'How
can
we
hope
to stand
for
long
enough
against
four
times
our
strength?'

Carnelian
had
been
primed
to
answer
that
too.
'How
do the
earthers
fend
off
raveners?'

* * *

Carnelian
formed
them
up
in
ranks
along
the
ridge
in
a dense
formation
they
all
understood
was
an
imitation
of an
earther
hornwall.
He
distributed
the
veterans
along
the front
and
put
himself
at
the
extreme
right
with
Fern
at
his side.
Each
man
was
armed
with
a
spear
and
a
shield improvised
from
the
wicker
backs
of
the
saddle-chairs. Looking
down
the
line,
Carnelian
almost
winced
at
how flimsy
their
hornwall
looked.
He
caught
one
of
the
men looking
at
him,
eyes
red
from
fear
and
lack
of
sleep,
and forced
fierce
resolve
into
his
face.

He
squatted
down
on
his
haunches,
calling
out,
'We might
as
well
relax
while
we
wait.'
The
movement
rippled all
the
way
down
the
line.

'Does
anyone
know
a
good
song?'
Carnelian
asked.
It was
Krow
who
began
a
ballad
which
told
of
the
love between
the
Earth
and
Sky.
Raggedly
others
began
joining
in.
The
smoke
from
the
saddle-chair
pyre
was
being driven
back
over
the
aquar
that
lay
like
a
field
of
boulders protecting
their
backs.
Carnelian
felt
the
flanks
of
the hornwall
were
too
exposed
and
curved
them
back
a
little. He
went
over
and
over
in
his
mind
how
Osidian
had
said the
battle
would
go.
His
wounded
forearm
itched.
He gazed
out
over
the
lagoon,
squinting
through
another volley
of
rain,
his
heart
racing
every
time
he
thought
he saw
the
Bluedancing.