Enchanter
Page 33
Axis forced his face to relax, and addressed FeatherFlight again. “And Azhure is well?”
Since he’d left Sigholt, Axis found he missed Azhure so badly that even the melody of the Star Dance seemed tarnished without her.
Borneheld sat his glossy bay stallion and shaded his eyes against the glare. They had ridden out from their camp before dawn, and now sat their horses some one hundred paces from Gundealga Ford itself. Where was Axis? Was he still alive? Where was this rebel force?
Five horsemen formed a line immediately behind Borneheld, then, in ordered units, sat the five thousand horsemen Borneheld had brought with him.
Of the five leading horsemen, only Ho’Demi and Brother Moryson appeared unperturbed and relaxed. Gilbert sat his horse with ill-disguised bad temper, Gautier was tense and anxious, and Duke Roland of Aldeni shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the canker in his belly.
A shout from behind caused everyone to jump, and Borneheld wheeled his horse about irritably. “What…?” he began, then looked up to where one of the men in the first rank of soldiers was pointing frantically. Borneheld cursed the glare in the high layer of light grey clouds, then stilled as he saw what his man had been pointing at.
Far, far above them, circled hundreds of flying creatures, as black as Borneheld’s darkest nightmares. He knew what they were—more of those cursed creatures who had parleyed with his traitorous brother Axis on the roof of Gorkenfort.
Now everyone craned their heads skyward. Ho’Demi’s eyes narrowed. He knew the creatures were Icarii—though he had never met one of them and had only occasionally seen them as they soared above the plains of Ravensbund near the Icescarp Alps. The Icarii soared with this Axis? Ho’Demi dropped his eyes and caught those of Inari and Izanagi, sitting their horses in the first rank of soldiers. Axis was powerful indeed if he had the backing of the Icarii. Ho’Demi felt a small knot of excitement harden in his belly. Perhaps this man was the StarMan.
Beside Ho’Demi, Gilbert muttered under his breath. The Forbidden flew over Achar once more! May Artor himself condemn Axis to the worm-ridden pits of the After Life, Gilbert prayed, for he deserves eternal torment for his cursed alliance with these filth. And we…we should have moved sooner. Who knew what damage Priam’s wretched obsession with the Prophecy had caused?
Moryson was as riveted by the sight of the Icarii as anyone else, but his thoughts were hidden behind a bland mask.
Finally Ho’Demi looked ahead, and his mouth dropped open as his eyes swung across the Nordra. A force of about a thousand men were fanned out across the plains some fifty paces from the opposite bank of the Nordra. From the centre of the line of men rose a magnificent standard, a deep golden field with the blazing blood-red sun in its centre.
“Borneheld!” he croaked.
Borneheld followed Ho’Demi’s shocked eyes, then barked an order to his troops.
Two men were now almost halfway across the river, the water splashing about their horses’ chests.
Borneheld squinted, trying to identify them before they reached him. Both were dressed in black, both rode black horses side by side. As suits such evil men, thought Borneheld grimly, keeping his hand from his sword only with a supreme effort. Behind him he could hear his men drawing their weapons. He pushed his horse forward a little to meet the two horsemen, waving the five behind him to follow.
As the two men rode their horses out of the Nordra, Borneheld finally recognised them, and his lip curled. So, both Axis’ lieutenants had survived the battle above Gorkenfort. But where was Axis?
Magariz and Belial reined their horses to a halt some ten paces from where Borneheld sat his horse. Both were uniformed identically in black, their chests emblazoned with the blood-red blazing sun outlined by a tracery of gold and a circle of small golden stars.
“Borneheld,” Belial said flatly. “We received your message and here we are. What do you want?”
“Where is he?” Borneheld demanded. “Where is my misbegotten brother? Or did he die above Gorkenfort?” He shifted his gaze to Magariz. “I am glad to see you survived, Magariz. I shall take pleasure in killing you myself.”
“I would return the compliment,” Magariz replied, “except that another has already claimed your life.” Far above them a lone eagle screamed.
“Enough, Borneheld,” Belial said. “Do you wish to parley or not? The longer you sit here the longer the Skraelings can nibble at your defences in Jervois Landing. I doubt you can afford to lose as many as you lost at Gorkenfort.”
Borneheld snarled. The number of men he had lost? All the men lost were due to the treachery of Axis and the betrayal of these two men before him. “If Axis lives I will parley with him alone. Not any of his minions.”
“My Commander stays behind until I am satisfied that you plan no treachery here,” Belial responded. “Why do your men have their weapons drawn?” He waved at himself and Magariz, neither carried any weapons. “Borneheld, I understand you feel so vulnerable that you must have five thousand armed men to face two unarmed men, but I ask you to summon your courage. I do not intend to leap on you and force you into a wrestling match on this damp turf.”
Borneheld’s face reddened at this slur on his courage. “Gautier,” he snapped, “order the men sheathe their weapons and retreat two hundred paces. Perhaps that will make my lizard-begotten brother feel safer.”
Borneheld waved at the Icarii circling far above as Gautier wheeled his horse away. “But what of your flying lizards above? If I am so courteous as to pull my men back, then please do me the same honour.”
Belial signalled to the Icarii and they began to tilt and wheel away towards the closest hill. Two, however, spiralled down to the small group left on the flat ground by the ford.
“What?” Borneheld growled, his fingers fidgeting nervously about the reins of his horse.
“I am only evening numbers,” Belial said mildly. “And another will join us from beyond the river. See?”
Indeed, a pale silver creature had lifted from behind the line of mounted men and was winging its way towards them. Within moments Belial and Magariz were joined by two black-uniformed Icarii, one female, one wearing the same markings on his chest as Belial and Magariz, and the silver-winged male from beyond the river.
Before Borneheld could say anything, Gautier had returned to his side. “Sire,” he whispered urgently, “look!”
Borneheld looked back to the force across the river. It had opened in its centre where the golden standard flew, and a man rode forth on a silvery-grey horse. He wore a tunic as golden as the field of the banner, and Borneheld could clearly see the blood-red blazing sun in the centre of his chest. Axis.
Axis spurred Belaguez into a gallop, two great hounds racing after him. As the stallion plunged into the river both horse and rider were lost in a plume of water. A heartbeat later they reappeared out of the spray, the horse surging through the river. One day, thought Borneheld, I will seize that horse for my own.
Behind Axis the hounds bounded through the water with as much ease as Belaguez. Overhead a lone snow eagle dipped and soared.
Ho’Demi watched them come, and his heart gladdened. The man who now crossed the river was a King, of that he had no doubt. The Alaunt served, as did the eagle which flew overhead. The Icarii had donned their ebony of war for him, and the man flew the banner of the bloodied sun above his force. He could be none other than the StarMan.
Axis slowed Belaguez to a walk. “Borneheld,” he said tonelessly, finally reining Belaguez to a head-tossing halt. “Have you come to ally yourself to my cause as the Prophecy demands? I see you wear the coronet of King of Achar. It is within your power, then, to save Achar from unnecessary bloodshed. Will you fight under my banner to drive Gorgrael back and proclaim Tencendor once more?”
Borneheld snarled, intimidated. Axis had the presence of a burning sun and the aura of power to match. I am King! Borneheld seethed to himself, legitimate and rightful born! I hold all power here, not this pitiful refug
ee from justice. But even as he tried to bolster his own courage and respect, his hate and resentment grew. Why had Artor favoured Axis with so much, when it was Borneheld who had the birthright?
Before Borneheld could speak, Axis nudged Belaguez past him to the five men who sat their horses behind their King.
“Gautier.” Axis briefly acknowledged Borneheld’s lieutenant, then rode straight past.
“Duke Roland.” Axis could not keep the shock out of his voice. He had always liked and respected Roland, and was appalled by this ashen and haggard man sitting his horse before him. He leaned forward to offer Roland his hand. Behind him Borneheld swung his horse around.
“Forgive me, Axis,” Roland said, “but I cannot.”
Axis dropped his hand. “I hope you find peace, my friend,” he said softly, then he nudged Belaguez forward.
“Gilbert.” Axis’ voice was now hard. “I’d have thought all this riding about the countryside in the fresh air would have cleared your complexion. I can only assume it is the foulness of your thoughts that reflect in the pattern of your skin.”
Gilbert’s scarred face mottled in embarrassment, and Axis rode on.
The next man Axis did not know. He was a Ravensbundman, and a chieftain by the markings on his face. Axis reached out to him with his power rather than his voice.
Who are you?
“Ho’Demi,” the Ravensbundman replied. “Chief of the Ravensbundmen.”
You ride with Borneheld?
This time, shockingly, Ho’Demi replied in kind. I, as my people, live to serve the Prophecy. You are the StarMan?
Stunned, Axis only stared at him. Yes. I am the StarMan. But, if you serve the Prophecy, then why do you ride with Borneheld?
Until now I—we—did not know where you were, who you were. Now I know. I will return to Jervois Landing and lead my people to you.
Axis’ eyes blazed. Be careful. Very, very careful. If he suspects that you are going to ride to my cause…
Ho’Demi’s eyes crinkled. I know. I will be careful.
Then welcome, Ho’Demi.
The rest watched Axis and Ho’Demi stare at each other, confused. Then, seemingly put out by the inscrutable savage’s stare, Axis dropped his eyes and kicked Belaguez to the last man in line.
“Moryson.” Axis hesitated. Next to Jayme, here sat the man who Axis had once loved more than any other. Now he loathed them both and feared their tricks.
Moryson spoke, his eyes calm. “Axis. I have a message from the Brother-Leader for you.”
Axis raised his eyebrows. He doubted it would be a message of love and support.
“Axis, Brother-Leader Jayme bids me tell you that you are cast out of Artor’s House and out of His care. The Seneschal declares you excommunicate, and informs you that your soul is doomed to wander through darkness eternally unless you recant your sins. Forswear your dark alliance with the Forbidden now, Axis, and Artor may yet be prepared to forgive you.”
“Artor is a god of lies and deception, Moryson,” Axis replied, “and the Seneschal takes those lies and deceptions and magnifies them a hundredfold in order to control the hearts and minds of the poor folk of Achar.” He paused. “Tell Jayme that Rivkah lives. Tell Jayme that one day I will give him—and you—to Rivkah to do with as she amuses. Your murder did not succeed, Moryson. She lives!”
“She lives?” Borneheld cried. “My mother lives? Moryson, what does Axis mean? What did you do?” Murder? What did Axis mean?
“He lies!” Moryson hissed. “Do not listen to him, Borneheld. Your mother died screaming as she gave birth to this bastard. Do not listen to his lies.”
Axis turned his horse to face Borneheld again. “She lived, Borneheld, and lived to give birth again. Behold, your sister EvenSong.”
Borneheld, appalled, looked at the creature Axis indicated. Sister? The creature had great violet eyes, narrow features like the other two of her kind, and massive black wings. Borneheld forced a derisive smile to his face. “You are not my sister.”
“Believe me,” the creature snapped, “I would that were so. You murdered my lover, Borneheld, and for that my brother,” her eyes flickered towards Axis, “says he will kill you. It will not be soon enough for my liking.”
“She has the Icarii temper and lust for revenge,” said Axis. “If I am not quick about your murder, then I fear EvenSong might slip into your chamber late one night. I hope you have guards posted who look into the night sky as well as the shadows hovering at the edges of corridors and chambers.
“And this,” Axis indicated the black male, “is FarSight CutSpur, commander of the Icarii Strike Force under my control. They were the ones, Borneheld, who greeted you on your arrival this morning.”
Borneheld felt the meeting slipping entirely from his control. “Axis—” he began belligerently.
But Axis went on as if he had not spoken. “Belial you know, as you do Magariz—although I feel bound to point out that you did not know Magariz as well as you might have thought. He has a far deeper sense of honour and justice than you ever gave him credit for.
“And,” now Axis indicated the final flying creature, watching Borneheld’s face as he spoke, “this is my father, StarDrifter. You might remember him, perhaps. You were there, StarDrifter tells me, when he seduced Rivkah atop Sigholt, although you were only a babe at the time.”
Borneheld almost gagged in disgust. His mother had let herself be seduced by one such as this? It must have been rape, for how could his mother have allowed such as this to touch her so intimately?
“You were a tiresome baby,” the creature said conversationally, and Borneheld realised with horror that Axis had its eyes and features, “and it does not surprise me to find that you have grown into such a tiresome man. Axis, I have had enough of this. I will talk with you later.” Abruptly he spread his wings and lifted out of the group.
“I, too, am growing tired,” Axis said. “Brother. I understand that you face threats from the Skraelings this winter and would prefer that I did not complete your humiliation until next summer.”
Axis’ taunting words pushed Borneheld over the edge into fury. “I have more than enough men to burn you and yours to the ground with Sigholt and break the Skraeling attack!” he shouted, shaking a clenched fist at Axis.
Alarmed, both Roland and Belial pulled the brothers back, speaking to them urgently.
Unconcerned by the ruckus, Moryson’s eyes flickered over the two hounds which had accompanied Axis. Both sat well back from the fray, and both were staring fixedly at him.
Axis cursed himself as Belial reminded him that Sigholt, nay, Achar, could not survive if both brothers went to war against each other while the Skraeling threat was so bad. What had he been thinking of? But, face to face with his hated brother, Axis had not been able to resist taunting him.
Roland, and then Gautier, spoke as urgently to Borneheld, reinforcing that he could not attack Sigholt without leaving Jervois Landing fatally crippled.
It was, eventually, Axis who spoke. “Borneheld. Our ill tempers will have to wait until spring of next year.”
He paused, and finally, grudgingly, Borneheld replied. “The winter advantage belongs to Gorgrael. We both want the same thing, Axis. Achar. And neither of us wants Gorgrael to have it. Very well. I will not destroy you until spring. You have winter to prepare.”
Axis remained calm. “We agree on a truce for winter, brother, while we both fight back these Skraelings?”
Borneheld nodded. “Until Thaw-month. I should have defeated Gorgrael by spring, Axis, and then I will come after you.”
Both men rode forward and gripped the other’s hand, both tightening their grip until they could feel the other’s bones shift. Neither let a spasm of discomfort cross his face.
“A truce until Thaw-month, Borneheld. My word on it.”
“A truce until Thaw-month, Axis. My word on it.”
“Burdel burns and pillages his way across southern Skarabost,” Axis said, his hand still gripped
by Borneheld’s. “Call him off.”
Borneheld smiled coldly. “I am King, Axis. Not you. And Burdel merely keeps order in a disorderly province. What he does in Skarabost is none of your concern.” He let Axis’ hand go.
“It concerns me that Burdel kills innocent people,” Axis insisted. “Perhaps you might like to inform Burdel that I will eventually hold him responsible for each life lost, for each home burned, for each chicken carried away. Oh, and as for being King, Borneheld, I was surprised to hear of your sudden elevation to the crown. Priam was so well when last I saw him.”
A shadow briefly flared behind Borneheld’s eyes. So, Axis thought, there is something amiss here. Well, it will wait, and for all of your murders, Borneheld, you will pay.
“Until spring, brother.” Axis sketched a salute, then turned to those behind Borneheld. “Roland.” This time the salute was more formal. “Moryson, Gilbert, as I come for Borneheld in the spring, so I will also come for the Seneschal.” Gilbert managed a sneer, but Moryson simply looked bored. Axis stared at Ho’Demi. I hope I will not have to wait until spring to see you and yours, Ravensbundman.
Ho’Demi held his eyes. When the winter snows arrive, watch for us.
Axis reined Belaguez back and whistled for the hounds. “Gentlemen,” he said, then spurred his mount back across the Nordra, Belial and Magariz close behind him as FarSight and EvenSong lifted into the sky.
37
YULETIDE
Still as tired and cold and dirty as he’d been when he’d lain down to sleep, Axis struggled up from the makeshift bed. He sat on its edge and took the bowl of vegetable broth Belial handed him. It seemed as if he’d been campaigning, fighting, these cursed wraiths for an eternity.
Mindful of Azhure’s warning, Axis had not returned to Sigholt from Gundealga Ford. Instead, he had led the thousand mounted men and the two Crest of Icarii Strike Force through the south-eastern corner of the Urqhart Hills into the WildDog Plains and into hell.