The Standing Dead by Ricardo Pinto

Author:Ricardo Pinto
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, General
ISBN: 0312872097
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2010-08-29T22:00:00+00:00

DEADLOCK

The deadlock common to all two player games is rarely found in Three.

(from ‘The Three Coloured Game’ by the Ruling Lord, Kirinya Prase)

UNDER AKAISHA’S CEDAR, CARNELIAN WAS PACING BACK AND FORTH, every so often looking towards the rootstair for any sign of the Tribe returning. Unable to be among the crowd as a comfort to Poppy, fearing he might witness Fern’s punishment, Carnelian had fled in misery. All his life, he had known about the childgatherer. Once, when he had pushed Ebeny until her reticence broke, she had described the miserable day she had been selected for the Mountain. He had had nightmares for a long time afterwards. Now he had seen it for himself, he was soaked through with such heartache and shame that he wanted to creep away and hide. He glanced back up the slope, desperate to see Poppy. An irrational fear possessed him that the childgatherer might have already taken her away. Then he became filled with dread at the thought of seeing her and, for a moment, seriously considered fleeing the Koppie. He allowed his gaze to be burned by the incandescence of the plain. Out there was an unwelcoming world and Osidian; a Master who would have nothing but shrivelling contempt for such feelings.

The sound of footfalls was coming from the direction of the Crag. He resisted the temptation to hide, though he backed towards the comfort of the mother tree. As the first people appeared upon the stair, Carnelian held on to her bark as if it were a hand. It was not long before they noticed him. Their descent faltered as they stared with red eyes that seemed to have sunk into their faces. Their scrutiny soon forced him to lower his gaze. A woman’s voice urged them on. More and more of the Tribe were coming into sight. Carnelian stood where he was, enduring their terrible, silent hatred. He would gladly have set aside his height, his white skin, his burning blood to become one of them. As it was he would not allow himself to deny it was his kind who had just raped them.

When he sensed someone approaching, he lifted his gaze, holding his arms stiffly by his sides ready to take whatever was said, whatever pain inflicted, even death, but when he saw it was Fern, his knees threatened to buckle. His friend simply stared and Carnelian fought panic. Fern’s face was unreadable, though his red eyes showed he had been crying.

Carnelian searched his friend’s body for any sign of mutilation. ‘You are unhurt?’

Fern looked as if he did not know the answer to that. After a while, he said: ‘They did not call for me.’

‘Then you are saved,’ Carnelian said, clutching at the hope there was in that; some joy on such a joyless day. Instinct urged Carnelian to keep his pain to himself, but he was weak enough to want to share it.

‘I should have disfigured her. That’s what I’ve been thinking.’

Fern looked at Carnelian as if he were seeing him for the first time.

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