Текст книги "The Chosen"

Автор книги: Ricardo Pinto

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Carnelian watched the riders undulate away. It was a strange relief to be left alone with the buzzing flies. He glanced back to the Tower Crag where his people were. He might have fled with them if he had known a way to return to the Hold. He turned to the carnage. It seemed Crail's dismembered body that was clogging up the stream. He tried to remember the old man's face. He remembered that last kiss he had given him, that kiss of betrayal. The tears began dribbling down the inside of his mask. Carnelian longed to throw it away, to fly along the beach, to have the clean sea-wind scour the tears from his eyes.

Far away the riders were flowing towards the valley. There was no returning. Carnelian cursed, sniffed, then lashed his aquar to race after them.

He splashed along the rivulets as they joined, deepening into browner streams. The triangle of the delta narrowed and he saw that he was drawing ever closer to the shambling file of creatures coming up from the scows.

The streams wound together until Carnelian was riding along the edge of a single channel. On the other side the creatures struggled with their baskets, which brimmed over with things like wheels. Their crooked bodies were grained like wood. Whatever faces they might have had were hidden behind lank sheets of hair.

He reached the Masters where they had come to a halt. A stiff back betrayed his father. Height revealed Aurum. Vennel was precariously balanced in his chair. Jaspar's aquar was perched on the bank seeming to look across to the other side. Carnelian coaxed his aquar towards him.

They both looked down at the clots swirling in the purpled water. 'What carnage is this?' Carnelian said and ground his teeth.

'A poetic name for such filthy commerce.'

'Commerce…?' The word was unexpected. Carnelian gazed across the stream.

'And a fitting occupation for the Wise.'

Carnelian watched the creatures struggling on the other bank. 'Are those sartlar?'

'Of course. Repulsive, neh?' He pointed an arm upstream. 'No doubt we shall have to follow their stinking march through that.'

Carnelian followed his finger. The valley was still in shadow but he could see that it seemed to be set with dark jewels. The stream came out of it through something that looked like a wall stretched across its mouth.

Aurum sent the Marula into the stream with a motion of his hand. As they crumbled the banks into the water their aquar stumbled, jolting their riders. Then they were wading up against the flow with the water foaming red against their legs. The baggage animals were next. Seeing it was safe, the Masters urged their aquar after them.

Carnelian followed Jaspar. He watched him sway as his aquar slid down the bank. Then it was his turn. He gripped the chair rim but was still thrown about and almost pitched forward into the eddying stinking water. Soon he was making his way up the channel with the others.

They reached the sartlar and pushed into their march. He could see that it was spiral ammonites that filled their baskets. The aquar jostled the sartlar out of the way. Carnelian saw shells knocked out of the baskets being trodden into the water by the sartlar's spade feet. He wanted to see their faces but not a single one turned to watch them pass.

The wall was close now, so close Carnelian could see it was a scree. Little avalanches clinked down and he realized the whole slope was made up from fragments of ammonite shell.

He felt a change in his aquar's footfalls. Each impact was sharper. Peering down into the water he saw the channel was now lined with stone. Two buttresses rose up to hold back the hills of shells. Between them was a gap out from which the stream flowed. Soon masonry had risen on either side. The other Masters were in the noisy space with him, being carried along by the sartlar tide whose burdens formed a mosaic that hid them from view. Carnelian saw a leathery hand fumble up to steady a basket. One of the sartlar became entangled in the legs of Jaspar's aquar and was knocked down. Its shellfish load pattered into the water like stones. Other sartlar bleated and tried to get out of the way. The aquar's plumes flared. It trumpeted. Its claws churned the sartlar's body into the stream as it tried to keep its footing. There was a gurgling shriek, some crunching sounds that might have been crushing shells. Jaspar pulled his aquar back into control, then moved on.

Carnelian's aquar stepped around the floating mess. He glimpsed a face into which a spiral had been branded so deeply, the nose was in several chunks. He could not look away, even though he had to lean out dangerously to keep the corpse in sight. The baskets meshed and it was gone. He looked ahead, troubled, to find that they had come through the gap into a valley that was carved and gouged into a complex honeycomb awrithe with sartlar.

Jaspar affected a cough. 'It is unusual to find oneself in a drain.'

The channel swelled into a great sink whose walls were streaked abattoir-brown and pierced by many dribbling mouths. Gutter lips wedged into the top of the wall were disgorging thick dark jets. Meaty chunks made them spit and splutter. Carnelian watched a hunched sartlar using a paddle as if it were a broom to brush a sodden lump over the edge so that it splashed into the pool below. That pool poured its bloody mixture past their aquars' feet. Carnelian felt as if he were choking.

Sartlar were hauling their baskets up a stairway that rose out of the channel. The Marula were sent to clear a way. With the other Masters, Carnelian urged his aquar up the steps.

As his aquar neared the top, Carnelian emerged into a red world, an amphitheatre with tiers of cisterns, walkways, channels. The air hazed with flies. Everywhere there were piles of ammonite shells. As each sartlar emptied its basket on a pile it caused a rattling avalanche. Sartlar sat surrounded by baskets like women at a market. They cracked the ammonites open on rocks, used their claws to scratch out the creatures inside and then discarded the empty shells. These were gathered by other sartlar who shuffled off towards the rubbish wall. There, amidst a frenzy of gull wings and screeches, the shells were thrown away.

'Filthy industry,' Jaspar cried above the clatter.

The Marula were trying to wave away the flies. As these spat against him, Carnelian became thankful for his mask and cloak.

A brown man was battering his way towards them through the sartlar using the handle of a bladed whip. He made his hands into a tube and shouted through it, 'You've come the wrong way.'

The lances of the Marula pricked him out of their path. They started moving through scattering sartlar, spilling baskets. Other overseers confronted them, shaking their whips, slapping the lance heads away from their faces. 'Wrong way,' they cried. 'Wrong way.'

'We should return,' shrilled Vennel in Vulgate. 'Clearly there's no road through here.'

Suth said something to one of the Marula. The man advanced and lifted his lance to point up the valley. ‘Show the way to upper land.'

The overseers shook their heads and showed grimaces of brown teeth. Any sartlar that bumped into them they cracked upon the head.

Aurum pushed his way through the Marula. 'Show me the route.' His voice carried even over the noise.

They waved their whips and scowled at him. A whip handle clacked against Aurum's saddle-chair, causing his aquar's eye-plumes to flutter. The Master lunged forward past its neck. The men drew back, loosening their lashes ready to strike, but the beginnings of fear distorted their faces. Aurum slipped back his cowl to reveal his gold face. They hid behind their arms as if that face were brighter than the sun. They cringed back, dropping their whips, tripping over baskets and sartlar. Aurum straightened, hid his face within the shadow of his cowl. The overseers cowered till he commanded them to approach. Then they fawned on him and strained to hear his every word.

Cringing guides led them up the valley. They wound through a maze of vats and channels. Carnelian watched sartlar stir a rot of shelled ammonites. Each stir gave off a stench and oozed out more yellow liquid that darkened as it flowed. Sluices let water in from above or allowed the liquid to filter down from one tank to the next. With each descent the colour deepened. In one tank he saw it had become almost black but that its edges were the colour of blood. He understood and looked around with wonder. The whole valley was a dyeworks for extracting fabled, precious purple.

A whole run of tanks was flushed clean by a flood released from higher up. Red to their waists, sartlar leaned against the current as they scraped at the rotting matter that was sticking to the sides. Carnelian knew this sewage would be channelled down to the sink from where it would stream red off to the sea.

'Do my Lords think it reasonable that I should now be given explanations?' Vennel said over the scrabbling of aquar claws.

Carnelian was exhausted by the effort of keeping in his seat. During the long, hard climb his saddle-chair had been giving him a constant bruising batter. He would be glad to stop even for a short time.

Aurum looked up at the sun. 'We must be far from here before we camp tonight.'

'Camp…?' said Vennel.

'Aurum, we have almost reached the land above,' said Suth. Carnelian saw his father turning round to look for him. 'And it might profit us to rest our beasts before we go much further.'

'As my Lords wish,' said Aurum with a tone of resignation. 'I will seek out a suitable place to stop.'

They continued to climb up the valley side. Carnelian strained to look over the juddering back of the saddle-chair and glimpsed the shimmer of the sea.

He was crossing a weir when he saw Aurum on the other side bringing his aquar to a stop. The Master set five Marula aside and divided the rest into two groups. The first he sent back down the way they had come. The second was sent ahead to spy out the land. Aurum made his aquar kneel, fastened on his ranga shoes and then climbed out of his saddle-chair. Carnelian bound on his own shoes. Aurum towered over the Maruli to whom he was handing his aquar's reins.

The river formed a lake below the level of the path. The aquar stooped to drink and the Marula bent down beside them lapping like beasts. Tain and the other slaves stood apart from the Masters who were like a copse of trees.

Jaspar struck a pose. 'One is certainly relieved to have escaped that foul factory. Though not without cost.' He pinched up his robe as if it were dung. 'In civilized circumstances one would insist on having this immediately torched. This rag could not be sweetened by all the perfumes of Osrakum.'

The wind will cleanse it well enough,' snapped Vennel.

'One fears the smell of those putrid molluscs will remain forever in one's nostrils.'

Suth looked at Jaspar. The road's perfume will make my Lord soon enough forget his putrid molluscs.'

'At last,' said Vennel.

'At last, my Lord?' said Jaspar.

Vermel's mask regarded him disdainfully. 'We come at last to knowledge of our destination.'

'Our destination has always been the same, my Lord,' said Suth.

'But not the means by which we might reach it, my Lord.'

'We all agreed we should proceed along the road disguised.'

'I recall a mention of palanquins, of the Legate's banners.'

'It has become necessary, my Lord, that we should adopt a different disguise,' said Aurum.

'Why did the palanquins fall out of favour?'

'We can no longer risk using the leftway,' said Suth.

'Why by the Two can we not, my Lord?'

'We have reasons to believe that were we to do so we should be attacked,' said Aurum.

These reasons were no doubt contained in the Clave's letter?' Vennel waited for confirmation but received none. 'Do these reasons justify this preposterous choice of route?'

'Many eyes would have seen us leaving the tower if we had joined the road, there,' said Suth.

Vennel pointed up the valley. This will bring us up onto the road, no doubt?'

'It will, my Lord.'

Carnelian could see Vermel's fury in the cast of his shoulders.

'What is this new disguise, my Lords, this wonderful concealment that will draw a veil of shadow over the eyes of our enemies?'

Aurum indicated the Marula. 'We will hide ourselves among these barbarians.'

Vennel looked at the Marula as if he were counting them. These creatures are of a type rare within the borders of the Commonwealth. Do my Lords think it wise that we should attempt to conceal ourselves in such a conspicuous hiding place?'

'Marula are rare, my Lord,' said Aurum, 'but here, by the sea, black men from round the coast are not unknown. We shall masquerade as chieftains making a trade pilgrimage to the Guarded Land.'

'One had understood the coastal blacks to be far more diminutive than these Marula.'

Suth broadened his shoulders. 'My Lord is not listening. Black men are uncommon on the road and thus few will know enough to make a distinction between their kinds.'

Vennel nodded. 'My Lords seem to have woven their schemes with some care. I can only wonder why I was excluded.'

'I too,' said Jaspar, but Carnelian noted that his voice held no edge of resentment.

Vennel’s mask turned its imperious gaze on him. 'You seem not much concerned, my Lord.'

'We are here now. It would seem foolish, not to say unpleasant, to return down this valley.'

The Ruling Lord Suth and I thought it more prudent that we should keep our own counsel,' said Aurum.

Vennel made a gesture of exasperation. This prudence was not, it seems, extended to the Legate of the Tower in the Sea.'

'We needed his assistance,' said Suth.

'A great quantity of it, my Lord, judging by our collar-less and poisoned escort and these starvelings with their grimy chairs, not to mention the cut-down ranga. Tell me, Aurum, how did you persuade our dear Legate to give you so much assistance? Did you perhaps bind him to your cause with the promise of one of your blood-high daughters?'

Aurum opened his hands in a threat gesture. 'Perhaps my Lord should consider choosing his accusations with more care.'

Vennel turned away to look at Suth. 'What of the much-vaunted need for haste, My-Lord-who-goes before?'

There is still time enough to reach Osrakum before the election,' said Suth.

'One more question, my Lord.' Vennel leaned towards Suth. 'Who are these enemies so terrible that they can force Lords of the Great to hide like thieves?'

'A conspiracy among the Lesser Chosen.'

To which, no doubt, our friend the Legate is totally immune?'

'Do you think we apprised him of all our plans?'

'And from all this caution can one conclude that these conspirators might dare to breach the Blood Convention?'

Aurum moved closer to Vennel. 'It seems that they might indeed attempt our lives, Lord Vennel, and so it behoves us all to show great care. These are evidently very desperate people. You do understand, my Lord?'

Their two masks reflected each other's for a moment.

'Only too well, Ruling Lord Aurum,' said Vennel.

Looking from one to the other, Carnelian could almost see the anger passing between them. He was sure more had been said than had been in the words.

Something touched his shoulder. It was his father. Follow me, his hand signed. Carnelian clacked after him though he was reluctant to be alone with him. Crail's blood flooded between them like a river.

Carnelian and his father stood on the weir and looked down the valley to the sea.

'Behold Thuyakalrul,' said Suth.

There it lay, beguiling like a ring: the Grand Harbour a paler region of the sea within its circle; the inner harbour of the tower a tiny winking jewel.

This sea is a strange wealth,' his father said.

Carnelian wrinkled his nose as he thought of the stinking purple dye.

Suth pointed to where the coast, curving round into hazy distance, was inlaid with tiny mirrors. There lie the pans in which the yellow-salt is made with which we buy soldiers from the Lower Lands. The sun's ardour distils it from the sea and the Chosen use its currency to buy barbarian blood. Is it not a paradox that a few holes in the ground should yield up such conquest?'

Carnelian played with his fingers.

The Quyans came to these lands across that sea,' his father said. The Wise maintain it was the sea that was the mother of the Quyan race. They claim for evidence the colours of our Chosen eyes that constantly reflect her.'

Behind them there was a mutter of voices. The aquar were fidgeting.

His father looked back at the other Masters. 'We cannot risk being divided, you and I.'

Carnelian stared seawards but saw nothing. His eyes were searching inwards, seeking a way out of the prison of his anger.

'I did all I could to save Crail,' Suth said quietly.

'If you did, my Lord, it was evidently not enough,' said Carnelian. The words were out before he could recall them. He felt his face burning against the metal of his mask. He could taste his words' venom. He felt his father turn towards him.

'Henceforth, my Lord, always wear your gloves. A single pale, symboled hand could betray us all.'

As his father strode off to join the others, Carnelian lingered frozen by the coldness in his voice. He knew it was unfair to blame him but he could not help it. The bile rose in him as he told himself that it was his father's weakness that had consigned Crail to his terrible death.

The Marula had returned and were standing in the deepest shade. Apart from their outlines all that could be seen of them was their amber sliver eyes. Carnelian watched his father move towards them. He could not hear his words but saw the way the black men quaked. They scurried out among the aquar and began to unbale baggage from one of them.

Carnelian walked carefully back on his ranga shoes, avoiding his father. The Marula were tying all kinds of shoddy objects to the saddle-chairs. Carnelian came up to his chair and fingered the gourds, the filthy feathered bags, coils of rope, a wood harpoon.

The barbarian has such a childish liking for clutter and whimsy,' said Jaspar as he gingerly poked the objects hanging round his chair. Carnelian watched him wipe his gloved hand against his cloak. Vennel was standing looking up the valley. His mask gave him a look of contemptuous detachment.

Carnelian managed a better vault into his saddle-chair than he had before. He cursed when he found that he had trapped a corner of his cloak under him. Some contortions were needed to release it before, at his signal, his aquar rocked him back into the air. He made sure to see Tain scrambling back up into his place amongst the baggage.

As they set off Carnelian took a good look at the bracelets that covered the forearms of the Marula. After what his father had said, he decided that they were not bone but bitter salt.

THE GREAT SEA ROAD

A hundred days to the sea

Along the high white road

But I shall fly there with the wind

To leave behind this land of dusts.

(extract from the 'Lay of the Lord of the Sea')

Shoals of people slipping past, scraping, scuffling. Dense rafts of bales, of poles and palanquins, floated in the flow. Wheels taller than men drove irresistibly round like mill stones. At a command, the Marula scrabbled down the slope, making the throng a shadow procession behind their kicked-up dust.

'Conceal yourselves,' cried Aurum, 'sit low in your chairs to disguise your height.' Then his aquar was stumbling down into the rolling ochre air. In front of Carnelian, a cloud billowed up. He pulled his cowl forwards as it broke over him. His aquar's plumes rustled as he urged it down into the haze. Every step jarred the saddle-chair. The grind and creaking grew louder with the babble of voices and the clatter of stone bells.

He broke through the dust and pulled his aquar up. The river had faces. He peered from one to another. Some were dark, some painted, some cried, some laughed. Across the eddy of heads something floated like a broken ship: a wreckage of wood and canvas held together with ropes. He watched it totter back and forth, waving above it a tatter of flags.

'Hey, you! Get on or get out of the way,' came a cry from behind him.

Carnelian peered round the edge of his saddle-chair but could make no sense of what he saw. A huge wedge of bone swayed ponderously from side to side, tapering down to a cruel beak. Horn stumps curved out from the four corners of the wedge. Behind all this more bone fanned out into a fluted crest.

'Out of the way, barbarian, or by the horns I'll run you down.'

A small man was creasing his belly against the crest's mottled edge. A tarpaulined mound rose behind him, criss-crossed with thongs. The man was piercing-eyed and grimacing as he shook his hooked goad at Carnelian.

Something impacted the side of his saddle-chair. Carnelian whisked round. The reins were snatched from his hand. He saw the cowled figure of one of the Masters lean back into his seat to yank them taut. Carnelian's aquar went with the tugging.

Try and be more careful,' his father said angrily in Vulgate.

The rebuke stung Carnelian. A smell like malt distracted him from any outburst. He turned to see bronzed hide flexing. His chair shook as he watched the monster lumber by. A wagon pole juddered past like a battering ram. Then the edge of a solid wheel of wood rolled into view, its splintered rim turning slowly. It lurched into a rut, causing Carnelian's aquar to flare its eye-plumes. He was shaken around in his chair as the creature recoiled.

Carnelian saw the other Masters nearby, waiting for the wagon to pass. He moved towards them, recognized Jaspar by his gloves and drew close to him. 'Was that a dragon?' he shouted in Vulgate over the noise.

'What?' the Master shouted back. 'No, no, only one of its smaller cousins.'

The movements of their aquar separated them. Suth was making the party form up. Carnelian was directed into place with curt gestures. Resentment burned up in him. His father was treating him like a child.

The Marula sculled a way into the throng with the hafts of their lances. The Masters and baggage animals waded in after them. The Marula dug a space in the middle of the road then fell back to shield the Masters with their bodies. The inexorable march swept them all in its tide off into the south.

Drab drifts of barbarians jabbered like birds. Chariots studded with shell buttons snaked streamers. Strings of smaller half-feathered aquar carried nests of clutter. Sawn-horned huimur clacked stone bells, their backs like upturned boats. Some had howdahs, some were snail-shelled with trussed goods, some pulled carts or painted wagons. Carnelian's mood brightened. He indulged his curiosity and looked at everything. It surprised him that the road's two streams slid so smoothly past each other. One was going to the sea, the other coming from it, penetrating deeper into the Naralan. He peered to front and back to see their march swallowed at both ends by hazing horizons. Swarthy hawkers clamoured at the edges of the road waving their meagre wares. Children threw stones, stared, pointed laughing. The sun-baked land behind was patterned with spaced trees. Boulder-bordered tracks scratched off into the hinterland. The land folded distantly into vague hills or crusted here and there into clusterings of hovels.

Carnelian wondered at the narrow track that ran alongside the road beyond a ditch. In some places this was paved but he saw nothing move along it. He deduced it to be the much-vaunted leftway. It did not impress him much until he saw a tower up ahead with its stiff banners. As it came closer he realized it was a fort standing by the road. The banners turned out to be gibbets hung with the tatters of flesh and bone the birds had left. Behind the fort, churned earth spread as far as he could see. Charred spots and litter showed that the land had held a huge encampment.

The heat made him drowsy. He had grown used to the rocking of the saddle-chair and even found a comfortable way of sitting. The crowd noise became a rushing of water. The road flowed ever on, eating up all time, all distance.

At last the sky began darkening in the east. People began streaming off the road onto a field of trampled earth. A few dust-greyed trees stood here and there among the ruts. A rush was on for the better sites in the stopping place. People were being absorbed into the hazy hem of the sky. Aurum passed back a message that they would press on. They would make better speed on the emptier road.

The air cooled. Nightfall slowed their progress. Wagons lit feeble flickering lanterns. These winking flecks sparked off into the distance, showing the windings of the road. On they went until the moon rose to silver everything. Carnelian drifted in and out of sleep.

He woke suddenly. The rhythm of his chair had changed. The stars covering the earth all round him outshone those in the sky. Wafts of roasting meat. Songs, night-thinned, nasal-voiced. He realized they had left the road. His reins were hanging loose but his aquar was following the others.

They found their way round fires and wagons, tethered beasts, tents, pavilions and all the other flotsam washed up by the road. Calls and curses came from every side as they blundered through the flickering night.

Aurum found them a sandy knoll on the edge of the camp. The Marula put up tents. Some were sent to fetch water from the wells, while others led the aquar off to find drinking troughs. Those who remained, squatted in a ring around the tents, facing outwards, their lances aslant against their shoulders.

The Masters sat in a circle unmasked, eating, each cross-legged on a low stool, their ranga shoes beside them on the ground. The air was wreathed with purifying myrrh. Around them flapped a canvas wall stretched over a ring of uprights.

'Are you sure it is high enough?' asked Jaspar, carefully unpeeling the leaf that wrapped a hri cake.

'Even a rider could not look over,' said Aurum.

The Marula will protect us against intrusion,' said Suth. 'But still it might be wise if my Lords were to keep their masks close to hand.'

Aurum put a crumb of the yellow porridge-cake into his mouth and nodded.

'It makes one uneasy to be so naked in the outer world,' said Jaspar.

Vennel's eyebrows lifted. 'But then, my Lord, does not such nakedness serve to hide us from the terrible eyes of our enemies?'

'Often the blinded see further than those with sight,' said Suth severely.

Even though Vennel dropped his gaze, seeming to give all his attention to his porridge-cake, Carnelian had glimpsed the wariness on his face.

'I had expected the road to be more than just a dusty track,' he said. He crumbled a piece of cake and put it to his lips. It exhaled saffron, like attar of lilies.

'We are still only in the Naralan, cousin,' drawled Jaspar.

Vennel looked at Carnelian. 'My Lord had better become accustomed to the dust.' He gave the others a sour look. 'It seems that we will be a long time journeying to the Guarded Land.'

'Oh, the weariness,' sighed Jaspar. He shook out a sleeve of his robe and clouded the air with dust.

Frowning, Vennel blew on his hri cake, brushed it clean with a twist of leaf wrapping. 'If our journey has become so wearying, my Lord, it is because of the choices that others have made.'

Jaspar frowned. 'It is true. Had one imagined the discomfort, one's ring might have voted for the faster way, whatever the risks. To travel with the common herd is hideous enough, but at their level… without perfumes… it is perfectly too much.' He turned to Suth. 'Alas, my Lord has been proved only too correct: one has utterly forgotten the molluscs.'

Vennel looked round the circle of luminous faces. 'Is it any surprise that we should pay a heavy price for the flouting of the Law?'

'We do not flout but choose to set aside in direst need, my Lord,' said Aurum.

'Once one begins this business of setting aside the Law,' said Jaspar, 'one does begin to wonder where it will all end. Are we now to disregard the whole Law?'

Aurum's face became limestone. 'Only the Law of Movement has been set aside. The rest of the Law remains sacrosanct.'

'And yet there are other laws that our present circumstances will make it difficult to enforce.'

‘Such as, my Lord?' said Suth.

Jaspar smiled. The various punishments that one might have to mete out to one's slaves, not to mention our barbarian escort. Surely, my Lords, the honouring of those laws would only serve to reveal who we are? It might be wiser to show mercy or to seek postponement.'

The Law, my Lord, does not allow for mercy,' said Aurum.

Carnelian looked at the Master's face. It had the same hard look as when it had pronounced Crail dead. He went cold with fury. Though he pressed his Hps together the words mumbled out. 'No… not… mercy.'

Aurum turned his Master eyes on Carnelian. 'Did you say something?'

The unyielding face maddened Carnelian. 'Only that my Lord seems to have a whore-keeper's appetite for inflicting punishment,' his voice rang out.

A slow smile formed on Aurum's lips, humourless, intimidating. He turned to Suth. ‘Sardian, your son gives insult to my blood.'

Suth looked sick as he focused his eyes off into the distance. Carnelian stared at him, willing him to confront Aurum in his defence.

'You will apologize to the Ruling Lord,' Suth said, not looking at his son.

Carnelian looked at him in disbelief. He wanted his father to turn round. He needed to look into his eyes. The smile was still fixed on Aurum's face. Carnelian despaired. When he spoke his voice was hoarse. 'No, my Lord Father, I will not apologize.'

Jaspar lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. 'Come, come, my Lords. It is not fitting that we should quarrel thus. The road has frayed our tempers. We should retire for the night. No doubt, the morning will bring its own distractions.' He turned to Vennel. 'Does my Lord know the sleeping arrangements?'

There are only four tents,' said Vennel.

'Obviously, the intention was that the Lord Suth should share with his son.'

Carnelian was appalled. He had never slept in the same room as his father. At any time this would have been difficult; now that there was such bad feeling between them, it was unthinkable. 'No,' he blurted.