Ysgryff and Greville recognised the underlying threat. Do not think to betray me, for then both your lands and your lives will be forfeit.
Axis watched the impact of his words sink in. Good. They understood him.
“But the negotiations are not yet concluded,” he said, surprising Ysgryff and Greville. “I am willing to cede you some concessions. Exclusive rights to control Achar’s trade with Coroleas, Ysgryff?”
Ysgryff’s face brightened. He and his province would be richer than he could have ever dreamed. “I thank you, Sire,” he said, giving Axis the benefit of the regal title.
Axis’ mouth twitched. Who said that respect could not be purchased? “Greville, I imagine that you would appreciate exclusive fishing rights to Widewall Bay? As well as rights to control the grain trade of eastern Achar?”
It was as rich an offer as that made to Ysgryff, even though Greville had less to offer Axis in terms of arms and men. “It is generous, Sire,” Greville said carefully. “Perhaps overly so. Sire, do not take my words amiss, but I wonder why you are so generous when, as you have made explicitly clear, you could have had Ysgryff’s and my lives without overly troubling yourself.”
Axis nodded. “Perhaps you are right to be suspicious, Greville. Gentlemen, you must know that I aim not only for the throne of Achar, but to unite the three races of Acharite, Icarii and Avar?”
“We have heard as much,” Greville said, even more cautiously. Judith and Embeth, who had heard it from Faraday, had told both Barons of the Prophecy and its implications.
Ysgryff simply stared at Axis, his hands now still.
“I aim to recreate the ancient land of Tencendor, a land where the three races can once again live in harmony. The Icarii and the Avar will move back down into parts of what is now Achar, and, gentlemen, I am afraid that both of you stand to lose much of your territory.”
Both Barons narrowed their eyes and Axis went on quickly. “I remind you of the trade, fishing and grain concessions I have granted you,” he said. “Those concessions will make both of you, as your people, rich. You can well afford to lose a little territory—and I assure you, I only want to take the barren and troublesome bits that you have little use for.”
“Tell us, Axis,” Greville said, leaning forward, his blue eyes sharp. “What exactly will we lose…and to what?”
“Thus far I have done all the talking,” Axis said. “Now, perhaps, it time for me to introduce my father, StarDrifter SunSoar, Enchanter and Prince of the Icarii people.”
“Prince” was not a title the Icarii normally used, but it was one that the Barons would understand, and it roughly described StarDrifter’s royal connection.
Eyebrows shot up as Axis introduced StarDrifter as his father. So this was the lover whom Rivkah had taken? This is who had cuckolded Searlas into becoming the laughing stock of Achar?
StarDrifter watched the curiosity blossom across the faces before him and inclined his head. These were the ones who had trampled roughshod over the Icarii and Avar sacred lands for so many generations?
“Both the Icarii and the Avar have deep attachments to some parts of the land you now call Achar,” he began, shifting his gaze slowly from one to another. “The Avar forest, the Avarinheim, once stretched as far as the Widewall Sea, and my people lived scattered over most of southern and eastern Achar. But we do not expect that you will give us all the land you have cultivated, nor would we wish to demand it.”
Axis knew that StarDrifter had spent much time consulting carefully with Raum over this matter, and he knew that the pair had come to a workable arrangement which should not alienate too many of the Acharites.
“The Avar would wish to replant the forests in certain areas,” StarDrifter continued. Axis repressed a smile. Despite his heavy-handedness at it, StarDrifter was threading a little of the Song of Harmony into his voice. MorningStar would be proud of you, Axis thought, for using the water music so effectively when you find it so hard.
“Parts of eastern Skarabost, eastern Arcness and,” StarDrifter paused a little, “the larger part of Tarantaise.”
Ah, Greville nodded, no wonder Axis is willing to grant me so many concessions. Well, Axis was also right when he said that he only wanted the barren and troublesome bits. And what was the majority of Tarantaise, if not broad and useless grass plains? Perhaps the fishing and grain rights would be worth the loss of so much territory.
“We would also want the Bracken Ranges, but that is neither here nor there as far as you two are concerned.” StarDrifter looked about him and smiled, and both Embeth and Judith gaped at the sudden beauty and virility of his face. No wonder Rivkah, may she rest in peace, had succumbed to him.
StarDrifter’s smile widened until even the two Barons were affected by it. “And here we sit among some of the tombs of our most revered Enchanter-Talons, or Kings. This is also a deeply holy site for us, and we would want to regain control of the Ancient Barrows and the swathe of territory that stretches down to and surrounds the Silent Woman Woods. Greville, will you agree to the loss of some two-thirds of your territories for the concessions that my son is willing to grant you?” StarDrifter did not mention Star Gate. There was no need for the Baron to know what lay beneath their feet.
Greville thought about it. The fishing and grain rights would more than adequately compensate for the land that this StarDrifter requested on behalf of his people and the Avar. And so few people lived in the northern and eastern parts of Tarantaise that hardly any would be displaced. Most of his people lived closer to Tare and to the south-western border of Tarantaise and Nor. He took a deep breath. Besides, Axis did not have to offer him anything at all. He could simply have taken it.
“I agree and I accept,” he said firmly, and leaned forward and offered StarDrifter his hand. “You are welcome to the areas you have requested.”
StarDrifter shook Greville’s hand, relieved. Like Axis, he wanted the Acharites to cede their land willingly rather than have it forced from them.
“And for control of trade with the Corolean Empire,” Ysgryff said dryly and with evident concern, “I suppose you want the majority of Nor?” Nor was a much richer and more densely peopled province than Tarantaise, and Ysgryff was not sure that he wanted to hard over the larger part of his province to these Icarii or Avar.
StarDrifter’s smile faded a little. “I would ask for only one thing from Nor, Ysgryff.”
Ysgryff raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
“Pirates’ Nest.”
Ysgryff only managed to keep his mouth shut with a supreme effort. Axis was prepared to allow Ysgryff rich trading concessions for that sea-lapped rock infested with pirates? What secret treasures did Axis think the island hid? What did he know of the island?
“No hidden treasures, Ysgryff,” Axis said softly, and Ysgryff allowed an expression of excitement to filter across his face at this further exhibition of power and ability. By the sacred gods themselves! The time was here!
“No hidden treasures, but simply one of the most sacred sites of the Icarii People. StarDrifter?”
“We know the island as the Island of Mist and Memory, Ysgryff. We had our Temple of the Stars on the island, and we believe that, beneath the pirates’ filth, its ruins must still be there. We would like to reclaim the island and rebuild the temple.”
Ysgryff’s face had gone white and he was having obvious difficulty breathing. Both StarDrifter and Axis wondered if it was the sudden revelation that Pirate’s Nest held an ancient Icarii temple.
They were both wrong.
Ysgryff took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Courage, Ysgryff, he thought to himself, it is time to step forth from the shadows. It is time for a thousand years of deception and secrecy to end. This is the time, and this is the man.
“The Temple still stands,” he said, and now it was both StarDrifter and his son’s turn to look stunned.
“The Temple still stands. The pirates have left it alone.” Until StarDrifter had mentioned it himsel
f, Ysgryff had been determined not to break the code of silence that protected the Temple of the Stars. He had first heard of it when a baby, and first visited it when a young boy. This was the first time in his life he had spoken of it to an outsider.
StarDrifter’s eyes filled with tears. This was more, far more than he could have hoped for, but Ysgryff was not yet done.
“Nor has supplied the nine priestesses for the past thousand years, StarDrifter. The nine still wander the walks and paths of Temple Mount. The Library still contains its ancient scrolls and parchments. The Dome of the Stars still protects the First Priestess—”
Forgotten in the shadows behind Axis, Azhure shuddered as if the cold fingers of memory gripped her soul. She thought she heard the crash of waves against towering cliffs.
The Dome…the Dome! Azhure?
Azhure? Is that you?
What had happened in the Dome? Tears filled her eyes, and she turned her head aside.
“—and the Avenue still stretches straight and shaded towards the Temple of the Stars. The Star Dance still lingers among the orchards and the vines and fills the otherwise empty Assembly of the Icarii.”
StarDrifter could not believe what he was hearing. Did the entire Temple complex still stand unviolated? And Ysgryff? By the Stars themselves, StarDrifter breathed, Ysgryff—indeed, perhaps the entire Nors people—knew far more about the Icarii than the Seneschal had ever known.
Not only StarDrifter, but all the Icarii present had been stunned by Ysgryff’s intimate knowledge of the complex on Temple Mount and particularly of the nine priestesses. The Icarii themselves rarely ever mentioned the nine priestesses of the Order of the Stars. Even Axis had barely heard of them. Yet here was the Baron of Nor prattling on as if he were well acquainted with Icarii mysteries.
“Do not think all the Acharites have forgotten the ancient ways. Even my elder sister took her turn as one of the priestesses. StarDrifter, had you asked for the Island of Mist and Memory for nothing I would willingly have ceded it to you. As it is,” Ysgryff grinned at Axis, “I now have control of the richest trading routes in Achar.”
Axis smiled weakly back. Never underestimate your enemies, Axis, he told himself. And never underestimate your allies, either.
“However, I am willing to be generous.” Ysgryff was enjoying himself hugely. “For the trading rights I am willing to beg the pirates to permit the Icarii to land on their island.”
And yet, Ysgryff thought to himself, looking Axis in the eye and hoping the man was still reading his every thought, I still have the last laugh, because the pirates’ occupation of the Island of Mist and Memory was only ever intended to protect the Temple of the Stars from the Seneschal. No Brother of the Seneschal would ever have stepped foot on the island knowing that he was likely to end up in some pirate’s cooking pot.
“I’m sure the Icarii will not mind granting some of the island to the pirates, Ysgryff,” Axis said, the smile now completely gone. He had underestimated this man badly, and the man’s obvious service to the Icarii sacred site humbled him. “Seeing how they have done the Icarii such a great service.”
StarDrifter turned and looked at his son strangely.
That evening was one of the happier occasions of the march south. Extra tents were hastily erected in the open space and several bullocks—purchased from a passing herdsman—were slaughtered and roasted whole over spits. The Barons and Axis invited their commanders and sundry guests to the feast and to witness the signing of the treaty between them, a treaty that also gave so many of the Icarii and Avar sacred lands back to them.
It was, Axis thought as he bent to add his signature to the treaty, a most auspicious occasion. With one simple signature, in his twin role as heir to both the Acharite and the Icarii thrones, so much of the bitterness and hatred of the Wars of the Axe and the subsequent thousand-year period had been undone. The Icarii were free to start moving south again, and, hopefully, the Avar would follow. Once they had Tree Friend to lead them, of course.
All I have to do now, Axis sighed, handing the pen over to a hooded Raum, is defeat both Borneheld and Gorgrael.
Axis had asked that Raum co-sign against his name on behalf of the Avar. Raum had cried with relief when StarDrifter and Axis told him that the Avar would be allowed to replant so much of the ancient forests. The forests had once stretched to the Nordra as well, but Raum had known that it would be unrealistic to expect the Acharites to give up so many of their rich grain lands, and so he had proposed a compromise. The forests would one day stretch down the eastern side of Achar to Widewall Bay, extending westwards only to include the Bracken Ranges and the Silent Woman Woods. It was enough, Raum thought, as he made his sign as a Bane, a leaping deer, and his sign as a member of the GhostTree Clan, a pair of entwined branches.
The Barons stepped up next to add their signatures. Ysgryff took the pen from Raum and signed his name with a flourish. He then handed the pen to Greville, who did not hesitate to add his signature to a document that would make himself and his people rich on grain and fishing concessions.
As soon as the treaty and its copy was signed, Ho’Demi solemnly helped his wife, Sa’Kuya, to serve Tekawai.
Once Sa’Kuya had picked up her own cup, Axis raised his Tekawai in a toast. “To Tencendor,” he said. “May all the trials ahead be as simply and amicably solved as this treaty was parleyed.”
“To Tencendor,” the gathered crowd chorused, draining their Tekawai at a gulp, then reaching with somewhat indelicate haste for more alcoholic sustenance.
Both Ho’Demi and Sa’Kuya smiled as they retrieved their cups. What a crowd of savages they found themselves among.
And then they set about enjoying themselves.
If Embeth and Judith thought they had received all the shocks they were going to get, then they were in for yet more surprises. As they chatted quietly in a corner of the main tent, a handsome middle-aged woman approached them, a young baby of some six or seven months in her arms.
Judith looked at her in some puzzlement. The woman’s face seemed somewhat familiar.
“Judith.” The woman smiled, and Judith frowned. This stranger was addressing her with a little too much familiarity!
“Do you not remember me, Judith?” the woman asked. “Do you not remember how we used to steal peaches from the cooks in the kitchens of the palace in Carlon when we were children? How we used to chase the pigeons from the courtyard at dawn?”
“Rivkah!” Judith breathed, unable to believe that her closest girlhood friend, whom she had thought dead some thirty years, now stood before her.
Rivkah smiled and embraced Judith briefly. Then she stood back and took her first good look at the woman. Judith looked wan and fragile, her skin papery and translucent. She had always been delicate, but now she looked like a dream-image which would be shattered by a simple puff of breeze.
Judith, overwhelmed to find Rivkah standing here before her, began to cry silently, reaching out her hands for Rivkah, almost as if she would not be able to believe that she was really there until she could touch her.
“Shush,” Rivkah said. “Axis should have said something. It was remiss of him. Judith, I am sorry beyond telling to hear of Priam’s death.”
“He was your brother as well as my husband,” Judith said through her tears. “We have both suffered loss through his death.”
Rivkah said nothing for a moment, but when she spoke her voice was hard. “Axis tells me that you blame Borneheld for Priam’s death.”
Judith reached out a trembling hand. “Oh, Rivkah, I forget so easily that Borneheld was your son. I…I do not mean…”
Rivkah was instantly contrite. “Judith, I do not chide you for blaming Borneheld. I disassociated myself from my eldest son the instant he slipped from my body. I have no intention of bonding with him now, or of acknowledging him. Knowing his father, I can well believe that Borneheld murdered to gain the throne. He murdered my brother as well as your husband, Judith, and I cannot forgive him that.
Do not fret that you accuse him.”
As Judith and Rivkah’s conversation turned from Borneheld to mutual friends, Embeth let her eyes slip about the room. It was so strange, being here in this company. The Icarii dominated the room, their extraordinary beauty and grace, as well as their wings, catching Embeth’s eyes at every turn. It was the men among them who commanded her attention, however. Men like StarDrifter, who, when he caught her looking at him, had such a knowing look on his face that Embeth felt her legs weaken. It was easy to see who Axis had inherited his magnetism from. She hastily looked away, but found her eyes being dragged back to the Icarii Enchanter. He was still looking at her.
Embeth closed her eyes, clenching her fists by her sides, trying to break the spell he had woven about her. By Artor, she breathed, these Icarii will wreak havoc among the loose morals of court. When she opened her eyes again StarDrifter had turned away, and Embeth breathed a little more easily. She saw Belial, smiling gently at a young Nors girl, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, who chatted animatedly to him. She wore a bright red dress of fine wool that highlighted her pale skin and blue eyes and contrasted with her black hair. When Magariz stopped momentarily to catch at Belial’s arm and indicate a group of soldiers and Crest-Leaders a little further away, Belial shook his head and pulled his arm free, moving a little closer to the girl. Embeth raised her eyebrows. So he preferred the company of a young girl to that of fighting and drinking comrades?
The soft chiming of bells caught Embeth’s attention. Many of the Ravensbundmen, some with wives, were also present, and Embeth watched them, fascinated, for a long while. Each had different patterns tattooed into his or her face, but all had the blazing sun emblazoned across their foreheads. Embeth wondered at the Ravensbund devotion, that they would mark themselves so for Axis. Their black hair glistened blue and green as the lamp light caught the glass among their braids, and they marked their passage through the throng with soft chimes and whispers. Behind the Ravensbundmen were a group of three men who, someone had whispered to Embeth, were the Sentinels mentioned in the Prophecy. Embeth regarded them curiously as they chatted to Baron Ysgryff, almost as if they were old friends.
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