Free The Standing Dead - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 02 by Ricardo Pinto Page A

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 other Master. They're brothers.'
    'Will he be any more able to ride than Stormrane?' asked Cloud.
    Carnelian had seen the hope that had come into Fern's eyes. Though he had understood Cloud's words, he made Fern translate them for him.
    'Do you believe I'm as enfeebled as your father?' he asked him.
    Fern's pain and grief turned to anger. 'Why are you doing this?'
    Carnelian wanted to tell him that he understood; that once his own father had been wounded. The word 'compassion' was on his lips, but he swallowed it. It was not a word they would believe coming from a Master's mouth.
    'I wish to ensure you use Ranegale's plan. I know you'll not leave your father behind.' He glanced at Ranegale. 'In the end I don't think even he would leave him behind ... not alive anyway. If they found your father alive, the legion would get from him the name of your tribe. You're wise to fear the Masters. If they can, they will exterminate you and all your people for what you've seen and done. Other options will cause a delay. Any delay makes it more likely you'll be forced to try Stormrane's plan. If you managed to elude the line, what would you do with us? I fear you would kill us, hide us in the earth, hope the vengeance of the Masters would be blinded and not find you.'
    Ranegale's eye glared down at Carnelian . 'Have you considered, Master, that speed might bring us to Makar before the legion sets out?'
    The blankets suppressed Carnelian's shrug. 'I'd