Enchanter

by Sara Douglass

  She stroked Azhure’s cheek. “I would that we became friends. I have seen the pain you have suffered, and I know that you will understand what I will have to go through.”

  “I would be proud to call you my friend,” Azhure whispered.

  “Come now,” Faraday smiled. “No tears between friends. No recriminations. That we both love Axis is our misfortune, as is the fact that the man cannot choose between us.” She sighed. “Azhure. I will leave. No, hush, let me finish. I would have left anyway. I have my own role to play in the Prophecy and it will take me far from here. I will leave you your Lover, and envy you your Lover, Azhure. I had him a week, and that week I will have to treasure for a lifetime.”

  She looked down at Azhure’s swollen belly. “You make such beautiful children, you and Axis.”

  Azhure wrapped her hands about her belly. Had her babies been harmed?

  “No,” Faraday said softly. “They are well, although they would have experienced what you and Axis saw this morning, and I do not know how that will affect them.” She paused, as if debating whether or not to go on, then shook her head slightly and closed her mouth.

  Azhure relaxed. “A son and a daughter, StarDrifter told me,” she smiled. “Axis must awaken them for me. Sing to them what they must know.”

  “But you can teach them as well as he. Azhure,” Faraday said, her voice a little more serious. “You are an Icarii Enchanter yourself, after all.”

  Azhure’s mouth dropped open.

  Faraday patted her on the cheek. “Sit and think about that for a moment, and, in a few days’ time, when Axis awakens them and you have some quiet, you can teach those babies as much as their father. Now, if I rummage about in the closet I am sure that I can find something for you to wear.”

  An Icarii Enchanter, Azhure thought numbly. No. No, no, no, no—I do not want to be an Icarii Enchanter. I want to be Azhure. Azhure. That’s all. I do not want to be an Icarii Enchanter!

  “Small choice,” said Faraday, coming back with a linen nightgown and a crimson wrap. “You are what your father made you.”

  “My father?”

  “One of the gods, your mother said?” Faraday quirked an eyebrow. “What a night that must have been when the gods got you on your mother.”

  “I have so much to learn,” Azhure said quietly.

  “And many, many years in which to learn it.”

  The full implication of what Faraday said took a moment to sink in. “Oh!” Azhure cried, and her hands went to her mouth. She stared at Faraday, her blue eyes wide.

  “Many years,” Faraday smiled, “in which to enjoy your Lover and watch your children grow. Azhure.” She sat down on the bed beside Azhure. “I would that you do something for me.”

  “Anything!” Azhure said fiercely.

  “Azhure. Love Axis for me. Raise his children for me. All of them.” Her tone and expression was a little strange when Faraday said the last, but Azhure did not notice it. “Remember me to the children. Tell them of Faraday, who loved their father and who is your friend. Tell them of the Mother. Azhure, when I leave I will go to fulfil my place in the Prophecy.”

  “Faraday—”

  “I walk a strange road ahead,” Faraday continued. “But I do not want to lose the friendship that I have made here today. Azhure, you and I will meet again over the next months.”

  Azhure frowned. “How—?” she started to ask, but Faraday hushed her.

  “We will find a way, you and I. And perhaps, if I find the opportunity, I shall take you to the Sacred Grove. Icarii Enchanters are rarely welcome in the Sacred Grove, but for you I think the Mother and the Horned Ones, as Raum, would be delighted to make an exception. There are wonders there beyond imagining, Azhure, and I would like to show them to you. But, wherever, however, we will visit from time to time, perhaps you can bring your children occasionally.”

  Azhure looked at the beautiful woman sitting beside her, and felt totally insignificant. “Faraday,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Faraday touched Azhure’s cheek gently, briefly. “I am glad to have found friendship with you, Azhure. Now,” her tone became brisk. “Lie down and sleep a while. You will need to rest a good deal over the next few weeks and months, I think. Perhaps until your children are born. Sleep.”

  Azhure lay down and closed her eyes.

  Faraday sat with her for a long time, looking at the woman, occasionally stroking her hair as she slept.

  You have a long and amazing journey before you, she thought, as has Axis, as have I. Pray, that after all the pain behind us and before us, at least some of us survive it.

  Finally Faraday stood up, smoothing her gown over her knees. She walked to where Axis and Caelum slept, both sprawled out in the chair.

  “Axis,” she said softly, kneeling down by the side of the chair.

  He awoke with a start. “Azhure?” His eyes darted to the bed.

  “She sleeps. She is well. Axis.” His eyes shifted back to Faraday, “I think I will leave you to your Lover.”

  “Faraday,” he muttered and reached out his hand for her face.

  “Axis,” she smiled brightly, but Axis could see the tears deep in her eyes, could see the pain. “Axis, we fell in love, you and I, when I was but Faraday, daughter of Earl Isend of Skarabost, and you were but Axis, BattleAxe of the Seneschal. Now we are completely different people. So different. We cannot be what once we were. And perhaps we both needed Borneheld alive to be able to love each other.” She paused, and Axis could see the bitterness deep within her. “How he would have smiled to know that his death meant, eventually, the destruction of our love.”

  “Faraday,” he said again, but Faraday hushed him.

  “No, Axis. It is too late for you to say anything to me. Nothing you say now would heal the hurt you have caused me. Axis, I still love you, but I will leave you so that Azhure can be your wife—and make sure that you do marry her, Axis. She is a jewel that you can ill-afford to lose.”

  She smiled, her eyes hard, finally letting her bitterness show “I will still fulfil my part of the Prophecy, Axis. Never fear. Now, listen to me. Axis, I formally break the vows that we made together in Gorkentown, I retract my promise to marry you. I release you to Azhure. I do this for Azhure,” she said harshly, “not for you. What we once had between us, Axis, is gone. No more. You are free.” But am I? she thought. Am I?

  She stared at him a moment longer, trying desperately to imprint his face in her memory, then she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth.

  “Goodbye, Axis.”

  She stood and hurried towards the door. Axis made to go after her but his movement woke Caelum and the baby began to cry. By the time Axis had soothed his son, Faraday had gone.

  Faraday paused in the open doorway only long enough to let the largest of the Alaunt through, then she closed it with a sharp click.

  The antechamber was now distinctly crowded with concerned faces, all staring at her.

  She smiled, although she thought her own face would crack with the effort. “They are well. Give them an hour, perhaps two, then go in. They will need to talk to you, and you to them.” She glanced at Ysgryff, then smiled more naturally at Rivkah, noticing how Magariz had sat beside her and clasped her hand. “Rivkah? Can I talk with you?”

  Rivkah nodded and the two women walked into the corridor for some privacy.

  “Rivkah. I am leaving. I cannot come between those two. Ah, Rivkah, this Prophecy is a cruel thing,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Rivkah held her close, rocking her a little and soothing her. Finally Faraday stood back and sniffed, wiping away her tears. “I must go and speak to the Sentinels, Rivkah, but then I must leave on a journey. I do not know if I will ever see you again.”

  Rivkah’s own eyes filled with tears. Faraday was right. This Prophecy was a cruel thing. As she regarded Azhure as a daughter, so also she regarded Faraday, especially because Faraday had been a Duchess of Ichtar too. Poor Faraday. She deserved to find happiness
as much as Azhure did.

  “Oh, I’m sure I will,” Faraday smiled. “Sometime. Somewhere. But, Rivkah, did I see you hold Prince Magariz’s hand in there? Should I assume…?”

  Rivkah actually blushed and Faraday laughed. “Rivkah,” she said. “I would give you a gift before I leave.”

  Abruptly she leaned forward and kissed Rivkah hard on the mouth. Rivkah shuddered as a bolt of pure energy raced through her. She stared open-mouthed at Faraday as the woman leaned back; she felt…well, revitalised. Warm. Alive.

  “A gift from the Mother,” Faraday whispered. “Use it well.”

  Then she turned and was gone, leaving behind her a farewell gift that would, in years to come, cause Axis even more sorrow and heartache than Gorgrael would.

  It was Faraday’s parting gift for the man who had betrayed her.

  66

  ENCHANTRESS

  Three hours later Axis convened a meeting of his senior commanders, the Sentinels, and his closest friends in the chamber. There were some things that needed to be said, and Axis was tired of having secrets. If WolfStar sat disguised among them, plotting and planning, then so be it. He, his parents and MorningStar had kept the secret of WolfStar close, suspecting all those about them. In the end their secrecy had almost killed Azhure.

  Axis still found it hard to believe that Azhure had smiled and forgiven him so easily when she’d finally woken. He felt as if he would spend the rest of his life atoning for the pain he had caused her.

  Now Azhure sat in the chair by the fire as the group waiting outside slowly filed in. She was wan and obviously weak, but she smiled at her friends and family, her heart easy. Rivkah, looking radiant, and Magariz; Belial, Cazna quiet and pale by his side; the Sentinels, all looking somewhat subdued; Ho’Demi and Sa’Kuya; the House of SunSoar—FreeFall, EvenSong, and StarDrifter, who, like his son before him, fell to his knees beside Azhure, crying for her forgiveness; Ysgryff, who, still grim with concern for her, touched Azhure lightly on the top of her head and glared at StarDrifter before he sat next to Rivkah and Magariz; FarSight CutSpur and several of his Crest-Leaders, together with SpikeFeather; Arne, even more dour than usual, and several of Azhure’s unit commanders from the archers; and the remaining fourteen of the Alaunt who lolled between chairs and legs and made the chamber, once spacious, appear crowded and inadequate.

  “Look,” Axis said quietly, when all had seated themselves, whether on chairs or benches or on the floor. “Look. I want you to witness what I witnessed this morning. I want you to see where Azhure has come from.”

  The Song of Recall filtered through the room. As the circle of ghastly crosses had appeared before Arcen, now the interior of Plough-Keeper Hagen’s home in Smyrton appeared before the assembled group.

  All witnessed the dreadful events of Azhure’s childhood. They witnessed the death of her mother—and Ysgryff cried out in horror when he saw the face of the woman who had been Azhure’s mother. They witnessed Azhure’s mutilation at the hands of her stepfather. They felt with Azhure the torment, both physical and emotional, that Hagen inflicted on her as she grew up. They realised why Azhure had buried her heritage so deep that not even she, eventually, realised what and who she was—if she had ever let the truth through then she would have died a death as appalling as her mother’s had been.

  StarDrifter eventually had to avert his head. As he did so he caught Axis’ gaze. The child will turn her head and cry—revealing ancient arts.

  Axis nodded imperceptibly. Yes, StarDrifter. And where else is she in this Prophecy? Where else?

  “It saddens me,” Azhure whispered, when the ghostly images had finally flickered and died, “that, of all I remember, I do not yet remember my mother’s name. The loss of her name has tormented me all through these years since her death.”

  “Your mother’s name was Niah, Azhure.”

  Everyone in the room turned to look at Ysgryff; even several of the hounds raised their heads.

  Azhure leaned forward, stunned. Niah!

  Ysgryff walked over to her, bending down by her side and taking her hand.

  “Azhure, I was not totally sure until I saw your mother’s face, but I had my suspicions.”

  “Ysgryff.” Azhure’s voice was distraught, her eyes wide and distressed. “Tell me!”

  “Niah was my eldest sister, some eight years older than me. Like many women of the House of Nor, she elected to become a priestess in the Temple of the Stars rather than marry. She joined when she was fourteen, and became one of the senior priestesses when only twenty-one. Azhure, you do not remember your mother’s name because she would never have told it to you. All the priestesses relinquish their names when they take their holy vows. She would not even have thought of herself as Niah. Even after she left the complex on Temple Mount.”

  “Niah,” Azhure whispered. “Thank you, Ysgryff…uncle.”

  “I prefer Ysgryff, Azhure.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “But I welcome you into the House of Nor. Later, when we have more leisure, I will tell you of your mother.”

  “Ysgryff.” Axis leaned forward. “Do you know anything of the mystery of Azhure’s conception? Of her father?”

  Ysgryff shook his head. “Very little. Our family was contacted one year and told simply that Niah had left the Temple. It happens sometimes that a priestess will leave the Order of the Stars, but rarely, and we were all stunned that Niah had vanished. She had seemed so happy in the Temple. I went to Temple Mount to talk to the Sisterhood, but they could not, perhaps would not, tell me much. They said that Niah had simply left one day.”

  “And travelled to Smyrton to marry Hagen?” Azhure said. “Why? Why?” And why did he leave me alive when he hated me so deeply, she thought. Why?

  Axis looked across at the Sentinels. “What do you know? Come, tell me.” His voice was hard. “I will have no more secrets between us.”

  But Jack, who knew so much, knew that the Prophecy had always meant Axis for Azhure, not Faraday, was silent.

  Veremund spread his hands helplessly. “Axis, believe me when I say that we know nothing of Niah, of why she would have travelled to Smyrton to marry Hagen of all people.”

  “You are not beyond forcing people into marriages that they do not want,” Axis snapped.

  Veremund hung his head. “Axis.” He raised his head again. “I can tell you nothing; Azhure has always been a mystery to us.”

  StarDrifter stood up. “We cannot know why Niah fled to Smyrton when we still know so little about her, about her reasons for leaving the Temple and the Order of the Stars. Azhure, Niah told you to go to Temple Mount. Surely there you will find answers. Perhaps the priestesses will be more willing to talk to her daughter than to her brother.” He took a deep breath and looked at Axis. “But I do not believe what she said about you being a child of the gods,” he said, returning his eyes to Azhure. “Perhaps that is what she thought. Perhaps that is what she was told. Perhaps it was better that she believed that.

  “Azhure, I think I know who your father is. It would explain so much about you, and it would explain—but not excuse—why Axis and I were so ready to jump to the conclusion that you were WolfStar this morning.” Again StarDrifter took a deep breath. “Azhure, I think that WolfStar is your father.”

  Jack, sitting shadowed in a corner, raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had not thought StarDrifter so perceptive.

  “You think what?” Azhure asked, but at her side Axis slowly nodded as he looked at his father.

  “Azhure-heart,” he said softly, “it would explain so much. The Wolven. The Alaunt.” He smiled and looked back at Azhure. “Your SunSoar blood.”

  Axis took her hand. “Azhure, you know that both StarDrifter and myself cannot resist you. Remember Beltide night in the groves. Remember how our blood sang each to the other—yours, mine, and StarDrifter’s.”

  Axis’ eyes caught his father’s, then he went on. “If WolfStar is your father it would explain how you came to use the Dark Music. H
e must have learned to use it beyond the Star Gate and somehow he has bequeathed the ability to you through his blood.”

  Azhure leaned back in her chair and thought for a long time. It made sense, what they said. And it also made sense of her strange encounter in Spiredore.

  “I met my father last night,” she said softly.

  “What!” Axis cried, and his query was echoed about the room by several other people.

  “I did not know who he was then, but he could only have been WolfStar.” She told them of her strange meeting, of his kiss, of his mention that it was Unclean. “As are relations between parent and child and as between brother and sister in the SunSoar family.”

  Her eyes softened. “He was a beautiful birdman. The power shone out of him. If he came to my mother, to Niah, like that then I can well understand why she lay with him and why she thought he was one of the gods.”

  StarDrifter looked at her, troubled by Azhure’s obvious admiration for WolfStar. “He also murdered MorningStar, Azhure. And trained Gorgrael.”

  Azhure’s eyes met his. “And yet he was kind to me and Caelum, StarDrifter. I do not seek to excuse his murders, but I think that he is a man of many disguises.”

  “Enough, uncle,” FreeFall said, stepping forward from his corner. “We have many days in which to puzzle this mystery between us, but now we have a most important duty. Azhure,” he brushed past StarDrifter and briefly stepped over the Alaunt at her feet to kiss Azhure on the cheek. “Welcome, Azhure, into the House of SunSoar. I am FreeFall SunSoar, your cousin. Sing well and fly high, Azhure, and may the years of the rest of your life bring only joy and happiness to counter the darkness that has filled your early years.”

  Azhure’s eyes filled with tears.

  EvenSong was right behind FreeFall. She kissed Azhure on her other cheek. “Welcome, Azhure, into the House of SunSoar. I am EvenSong SunSoar, and I am also your cousin. May the wind always blow at your back and your arrows fly straight and true.”