They walked until Axis suddenly realised that he could feel leaves and twigs under his feet again. At exactly that moment the emerald light started to mottle and shadow about him, resolving itself into close, dark trees. Stars whirled across the dark velvety sky above them.
“The Sacred Grove,” Raum whispered beside him, and Axis realised with a start that this was the first time in months he’d heard Raum speak in a voice that held no shadow of underlying pain.
Before them the trees opened into the circle of the Sacred Grove, and both Raum and Axis slowed. Power drifted among the trees.
Unseen eyes watched. It no longer felt like a dream. All traces of the mist had disappeared long before in the brilliance of the emerald light, and Axis understood that he stood here in the Sacred Grove in reality.
He felt gaudy and overly conspicuous in his gold and red. For the first time since he had accepted the golden tunic from Azhure, Axis felt slightly uncomfortable in it.
“You will never feel comfortable here, Axis my heart,” a woman’s voice said quietly beside him, “because your power is tied to the stars, and this power emanates from the earth. From the Mother.”
Faraday walked slowly out of the trees to one side, wearing a loosely draped robe of peculiar shifting greens, purples and browns. Her long chestnut hair lay thick and loose over her shoulders and down her back.
“Faraday?” Axis whispered, completely forgetting Raum on his other side. “Faraday?”
She smiled and touched his arm gently. “How long, Axis? Twenty months? Too long, my love. But wait. I must greet Raum.”
She stepped past Axis and wrapped her arms about Raum, laughing and crying at the same time, murmuring to him as she hugged him close, softly stroking his face as if she could soothe away the bumps and lesions that marred it.
Axis stared at her. Faraday seemed different from when he had last seen her. No longer was she the innocent girl who first caught his eye at Priam’s nameday feast in the Chamber of the Moons. Nor was she the beautiful but sad woman he remembered as Borneheld’s wife. There were lines of pain about her eyes that Axis did not remember, and lines of humour at the corners of her mouth. Both experience and power had changed her. Would this Faraday accept Azhure?
Axis hastily clouded his thoughts—Faraday had demonstrated only a moment ago that she was as capable as he at reading the mind of another, and Axis did not want her finding out about Azhure from his unguarded thoughts. What would be the best way of telling her?
“Why do you frown, Axis? This is the first time we have seen each other for a very long while, and this is a very special moment that I have asked you here to witness. It is one of the few occasions that I could invite you here and the Horned Ones would accept your presence. You are almost as closely linked to Raum as I am.”
“You asked me? You were responsible for pulling me into this dream?”
Faraday smiled and slipped her hand about Axis’ arm, entwining her fingers through his. “No dream, Axis. The dream is the husk of your body which awaits you in your camp beyond the Silent Woman Woods. Now, be silent. We are both here only to witness—for the moment, at least.”
Raum stumbled into the centre of the Grove, moaning again, as if his pain had returned. Faraday’s hand tightened around Axis’, warning him to keep silent. Raum dropped to his knees, his head twisted to one side, his hands held out as if in supplication.
Nothing moved, save the stars that whirled overhead and the watching eyes that shifted among the trees.
Raum screamed, and Axis’ entire body jerked. Be silent, Faraday’s stare said, then she shifted her eyes back to Raum.
Now he twisted about on the grass, caught in the throes of a dreadful suffering. Another scream rent the Grove, then another, and Axis realised that a dark stain was spreading about Raum’s twisting body. Blood! Axis shuddered at Raum’s agony. By the Stars! he thought, Azhure was right about these people. They preach a life of non-violence, but their very lives and culture exude violence.
Azhure? a voice asked in his head, and Axis jumped guiltily, screening his thoughts again.
A woman who lived with the Avar for a while. Now she earns her keep as an archer in my army.
Faraday smiled. A woman archer—indeed!
Raum screamed again. His voice had lost its earlier pain-purified clarity and was now harsh and guttural. The blood about him was spreading, and now Axis could see that it seeped from every orifice in his body and, in places, from tears in the skin stretched over painfully tight joints.
All Banes, whether male or female, must die to transform, Axis. What we witness here is both Raum’s death and his renewal. All witness. But Raum must do this on his own. None can help him.
Axis wept silently. He liked Raum, had felt a special bond with the Bane. He remembered the moment his eyes had locked with Raum’s in the cell beneath the Smyrton Worship Hall. Remembered the understanding that had passed between them. That was the day he had not only met Raum for the first time, but had also met…Axis blanked out his thoughts only just in time.
Who? Faraday asked in his mind.
Shra, Axis replied. The Avar girl.
Faraday’s eyes misted. She had also met Shra at Fernbrake Lake, the Mother. Raum had bonded both her and Shra at the same time.
Raum had not the breath to scream now, although agony still gripped his body. His breath came in harsh gasps that reached Axis and Faraday clearly across the Grove. They stilled, as every eye watching did. After a few minutes. Raum’s breathing all but ceased, although his body still jerked convulsively. His head had twisted about so that his great dark eyes, streaming tears of pure blood, stared directly into Axis’. Axis felt as though they somehow accused. He saw himself as Raum must see him. Standing close to Faraday, while Raum knew well that Axis had taken…Stars! Axis gave a great groan.
Shush! The moment of transformation is close now, Axis. Be still. Do not fear for him.
Axis shielded his eyes from Raum’s unblinking stare and screened his thoughts from Faraday, guilt consuming him. Guilt, but determination also. He would not suffer like this once Faraday knew about and had accepted Azhure.
Faraday gasped as Raum sickeningly, appallingly, exploded.
Axis could not stop himself from crying out in horror as a fine spray of blood and tissue arced through the Grove.
By his side Faraday flinched, although she managed not to cry out. Instead, a look of utter amazement spread across her face. “Mother!” she cried in shock. She had known Raum would transform, but not like this. Not into this!
Axis raised his eyes and stared at the spot where Raum had, but a moment before, lain convulsing in pain. All traces of blood had gone. Instead, a magnificent white stag lay there, its head drooped so that its nose rested on the ground.
Axis’ head jerked, his eye caught by a movement at the edges of the grove. One of the half-man half-stag creatures he remembered from his dream—a Horned One with a magnificent silver pelt—had stepped forth and was walking over to where what-had-been-Raum lay curled in the soft grass. He bent down, extending a hand to touch the stag’s forehead, and for an instant the stag bowed its handsomely antlered head under the Horned One’s touch.
As the Horned One stepped back a great cry erupted from the watchers among the trees. The Horned One threw his head back and screamed, the cry turning into myriad exultations.
“Raum,” Faraday muttered brokenly by Axis’ side. Raum had not transformed into a Horned One at all, but into the Sacred Stag of the Enchanted Woods. “Oh Raum,” she breathed. “I always knew you were special, and I have been blessed beyond measure to witness this.”
She did not yet fully realise that it had been her own use of the power of the Mother and the Sacred Grove that had effected this transformation.
“I don’t understand,” Axis said.
Faraday paused before she answered, recalling some of Ur’s teachings. “Occasionally,” she said, “once every hundred generations, there is a Bane of such puri
ty and goodness who, when he transforms, does not transform into a Horned One but into a Sacred Stag—the most magical and fey of the creatures of the Sacred Grove.”
“The Avar revere the stag,” Axis said softly, recalling his own teaching in Talon Spike. “The stag plays a central, pivotal role in the Yuletide celebrations. It is his sacrifice, his blood, that gives the sun the strength to be reborn. All Banes identify with the stag.”
Faraday nodded. “Yes. The leaping deer, or stag, is the emblem of all Banes.” She paused, and when she resumed her voice was choked with emotion. “I am so glad that Raum’s purity of heart and soul have been rewarded in this manner. Now the Sacred Stag will run through the Enchanted Wood again. Mother, you have blessed all of your children.”
Slowly the Raum-Stag rose to his feet, rocking a little as he got used to balancing on four legs instead of two. Gradually other Horned Ones drifted from the tree line, reverentially moving to greet the Sacred Stag.
For a long time Axis and Faraday stood silently, observing the acceptance of the Sacred Stag into the holy community of the Sacred Grove.
Eventually Faraday’s hand tightened once more about Axis’ arm. “Come,” she whispered, and Axis reluctantly let her lead him into the centre of the Grove where the Horned Ones milled about the Stag.
As they drew close the Horned Ones regarded Axis with ill-concealed hostility.
So, they still dislike me, Axis thought. I will ever have trouble with the trees.
Do not fear, beloved, Faraday reassured him. They will learn to accept you.
“Who are you?” the whisper rose around Axis. “How did your feet find the paths? Why do you stand so close to Tree Friend?”
His feet followed mine along the paths. The Stag’s mind-voice echoed through the Grove as he stepped forward and tipped his antlers in greeting.
“I am Axis Rivkahson SunSoar,” Axis said eventually. “Once BattleAxe—”
The Grove was filled with hisses.
“—but now released from the lies that bound me. I am Axis SunSoar, StarMan. I reforge Tencendor to stand against Gorgrael.”
“What do you do here?” a voice asked from deep among the group of Horned Ones.
“He is here because I invited him,” Faraday said firmly. “And you should greet him well. He is the StarMan, and I brought him here this night to meet you. One day you will work on his behalf against Gorgrael. Both his efforts and mine will see the forests replanted into Tencendor.”
The silver pelt nodded and spoke. “We have been watching you, Axis SunSoar. We have watched and observed.” He stared into Axis’ eyes, and, though Axis stared defiantly back, he wondered how much the Horned Ones had observed.
The silver pelt bared his teeth, and Axis hoped that it was the Horned One’s equivalent of a grin. “You have already won for Tree Friend the right to replant most of the ancient forests.”
By Axis’ side Faraday gasped in surprised pleasure. She did not know, as the Horned Ones obviously did, of Axis’ treaty with the Barons Ysgryff and Greville.
“For that we thank you,” the silver pelt finished, swinging his eyes to Faraday. “But much pain lies ahead.” There was too much knowledge in those eyes for Axis’ liking.
“Forgive us if we do not yet welcome you into the Grove with open hearts,” the silver Horned One said, “but perhaps one day your wife can bring you back. She will always be welcome.”
He turned and placed his hand lightly on the Stag’s shoulder. “Welcome to our community, Holy One,” he said. “Come. We have the secret forest paths that your hooves crave.”
Axis blinked, startled. The Horned Ones had completely vanished, and with them had gone the Stag—Raum.
Faraday smiled into Axis’ eyes and, consumed with guilt, he bent to kiss her.
“No,” she said, drawing back. “Not while I am still married and vowed to Borneheld. Will you come to free me soon?”
“Yes,” Axis whispered.
She took a step back from him. “Free me soon, Axis. I have waited so long for you. Too long.” Her smile died. “I have hungered so long, and yet you look so different. Not the same man who left me in Gorkenfort. What have you done since then, Axis SunSoar? Who have you become? Do you still love me?”
Axis opened his mouth, desperately searching for words. Instead of speaking, he simply stretched out his hands towards her. Mist began to drift about the Grove.
“Do you still want me?” Faraday whispered. Why did her voice sound so frightened?
“Yes,” Axis replied. Yes, he did still desire her—she was a beautiful woman, and her power called to him. Well, perhaps desire would be enough for her.
“Then hurry,” Faraday said. “Hurry!”
The mist thickened and congealed about them, and in the space of only two heartbeats both Faraday and the Grove were completely obscured.
He closed his eyes and strained desperately forward.
“Faraday!” he called, and opened his eyes straight into Azhure’s stare, leaning over him as he twisted about in the blankets.
“You have been dreaming,” Azhure said flatly, “but now it is morning.”
She turned away and began hurriedly to dress, keeping her back to him as she pulled her tunic over her head. The scars down her back ridged and bunched as Azhure twisted into the tunic, and Axis watched her silently, the emotions of his dream lingering still. What was he going to do?
Azhure stood and picked up her son. “Breakfast cooks on the fire outside,” she said, avoiding Axis’ eyes. “If you continue to lie there it will spoil.”
Then she pushed aside the tent flap and was gone.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, too late.
51
THEN IT IS WAR, BROTHER?
He kept Belaguez to a walk as he rode through the ranks of his army. On their right flank Grail Lake glittered in the distance, the pink walls and the silver and gold rooftops of Carlon rising like a fairytale backdrop behind it. On its shores waited the Tower of the Seneschal—Spiredore.
It was the third week of Weed-month. Over the past month Axis had painstakingly marched his army slowly from the Silent Woman Woods across the Plains of Tare. Borneheld had sent nothing to stop them.
Ahead of him Magariz and Belial sat their horses patiently, their mail coats gleaming as brightly as Grail Lake itself, and for a moment Axis’ eye lingered on Magariz. The vision of his mother sleeping in Magariz’s arms still returned to bother Axis at odd moments. He had observed Rivkah and Magariz carefully over the past weeks. If they did spend the occasional night together then there was little hint of it in their daytime relations.
Axis hastily averted both his eye and his thoughts. Rivkah could choose as she wished. Why should a dalliance with Magariz bother him?
Belaguez had almost reached the front ranks now, and Axis saw Azhure. She sat Venator slightly to one side of Magariz, as beautiful in her weapons and mail as she was naked in his blankets. Yet over the past five or six weeks the most Axis had seen of Azhure’s body had been her naked, scarred back. Ever since Axis had awoken calling Faraday’s name Azhure had grown ever more distant and silent with him. She still lay by his side at night, but remained stiff and unyielding.
Axis burned for her, more than he could have ever imagined burning for any woman. She occupied his thoughts almost constantly, and the deepening distance between them was slowly driving him mad. No woman he had wanted before had denied him like this. To have her breathing softly by his side night after night, completely untouchable, drove him to distraction.
As Axis passed Azhure turned her head slightly, refusing to look him in the eye.
Axis’ mouth thinned and he reined Belaguez to a halt some four or five paces beyond his commanders. He forced Azhure from his mind and lifted his eyes.
Borneheld sat at the head of his army five hundred paces away as it lay huddled about Bedwyr Fort and the sharp elbow of the Nordra where it turned south towards its mouth into the Sea of Tyrre.
Today
Axis would give Borneheld his last chance to back down, to agree to join Axis in fighting against Gorgrael. Of course, Axis sincerely hoped that Borneheld would elect to fight him instead, for Borneheld still had to die, and Axis preferred it to be as a result of battle rather than cold-blooded murder. Yet…yet…Borneheld could not die here on the field. If Faraday wasn’t present then the GateKeeper’s contract could not be fulfilled.
“Come,” he said to Belial and Magariz, and spurred Belaguez forward. Behind them rode Arne, carrying the golden standard, the wind whipping and crackling the material so that the blazing sun actually seemed to spit and hiss like an angry fire.
None of the men were armed, and all were unhelmeted.
As Axis and the three who accompanied him rode across the open field between the two armies, a small group of horsemen broke away from Borneheld’s army and rode to meet them.
As the two small groups of horsemen approached each other Rivkah kicked her horse forward and joined Azhure. Their eyes were glued to Axis’ retreating form.
“Have you told him yet?” she asked.
Azhure shook her head. “He does not need to know, Rivkah. He has too much to worry him at the moment for me to add to his concerns.”
“He has every right to know, Azhure. How can you deny him this knowledge?”
Azhure turned to Rivkah, angry now. “I understand your concern, Rivkah, but this is a problem for myself and Axis. After the battle for Tencendor has been won, then I will tell him.”
Rivkah shook her head, her face lined with worry. What was Axis planning to do about Azhure and Faraday? He was as touchy on the subject as Azhure was about her pregnancy.
Slowly the two groups of horsemen converged. It is Gundealga Ford all over again, thought Belial as he reined his horse back to a trot, except the purpose of this meeting is to declare the truce null and void—and to make sure everyone understands this fight will be to the death. Finally Axis and Borneheld’s bitter feud would reach its bloody conclusion.
Enchanter Page 51
