The Serpent Bride

by Sara Douglas

  The fortress commander was expecting them, and treated them to a good meal and the promise of an evening of good company.

  But Ba'al'uz was tired, and impatient to retire to his quarters, so he made his excuses as politely as he might, and made his way to his chambers set high in the fortress.

  Here, having fortified himself with a glass of wine and washed away most of the grime of his journey,

  Ba'al'uz unwrapped his own rosy glass pyramid that he'd carefully stowed in his pack.

  Ba'al'uz sat, fingering it for some time.

  He didn't like Lister. He was a complication in Ba'al'uz' life. No one had been more surprised than Ba'al'uz at the arrival of Lister's offer to ally with Isaiah. Ba'al'uz was even more surprised at the gift to himself, from Lister, of one of the rosy pyramids.

  Beautiful things they were, and powerful. Ba'al'uz had thought initially they were connected in some manner to DarkGlass Mountain, but use demonstrated that they were different entirely. The power associated with Lister's pyramids was colder, and far more horrid, than that which Dark-Glass Mountain radiated. Ba'al'uz didn't particularly like using the pyramid, but it was useful, enabling him to discover what Lister was about and also to aid Lister's and Isaiah's plans to invade the kingdoms north of the FarReach Mountains.

  There was nothing more Ba'al'uz wanted than to see Isaiah out of Isembaard.

  So Ba'al'uz pretended to be Lister's ally, for at the moment it suited Ba'al'uz' purpose. He wondered, at times, if Lister thought he might use Ba'al'uz against Isaiah, and would smile at the thought of everyone plotting against everyone else.

  Life sometimes could be so much fun.

  Ba'al'uz took a deep breath, settled himself more comfortably on his bed, and wrapped his right hand about the pyramid.

  As with Isaiah's pyramid, Ba'al'uz' glowed first a radiant pink, then red, then flared into sun-bright gold before subduing to a soft yellow.

  Ba'al'uz removed his hand and there, waiting for him as arranged, was Lister, the Lord of the Skraelings.

  "Where are you?" said Lister.

  "Hairekeep. Well on my way to the north."

  "You will need to negotiate the FarReach Mountains yet, my delightfully crazed friend."

  Ba'al'uz grinned. "You know you can depend on me."

  Lister laughed. "Yes, I know that. Now, tell me about Isaiah. He is hiding something. I felt it the last time I spoke with him."

  "He has a new friend. Axis SunSoar. Perhaps you have heard of him?"

  There was a brief silence, and Ba'al'uz could almost feel Lister's surprise, but then Lister spoke calmly.

  "Surely. The Skraelings curse with his name. But I thought Axis was long dead, sunk beneath the waves of the Widowmaker Sea along with his land. The Skraelings drank themselves silly with jubilation the day that happened, I can tell you."

  "Some months ago Isaiah made a weekend foray down to Lake Juit. He took a punt out into the lake,

  and from its waters dragged forth Axis SunSoar. Remarkable, eh?"

  "I imagine that you must have aided him in this," Lister said.

  "I did not. Isaiah managed it all on his own. Do you know how he did it, Lister?"

  "Me? How should I know? I cannot begin to imagine what Isaiah could want with the man."

  "Surely you can work that one out, Lister. Isaiah doesn't trust you, and who better to tell him how to outwit the Lord of the Skraelings than Axis SunSoar."

  Lister managed a small smile. "Then he is sadly mistaken if he thinks Axis can better me. I have far more secrets than the Skraelings to batter at Isaiah should he think to outwit me."

  "Really? What? Do tell. You know you can trust me."

  Lister waved a hand, dismissing Ba'al'uz' question. "Tell me, beloved friend, how goes DarkGlass Mountain?"

  Ba'al'uz frowned. What did Lister know? "What do you mean?" he said.

  "Just curious. I find myself fascinated with the mountain. It doesn't...chatter to you at all?"

  "No! Never! Have you lost your senses, Lister?" Ba'al'uz wondered if Kanubai was whispering to Lister as well, and felt a knot of jealousy in his belly.

  Again that dismissive wave of the hand from Lister. "So. You travel north to create havoc and mayhem in order to prepare the way for Isaiah and myself?"

  "Yes. Much havoc and mayhem."

  "You are a good lad, Ba'al'uz," said Lister, "and in the new order, once Isaiah and I have succeeded,

  you can be assured of many and mighty rewards."

  Fool, thought Ba'al'uz. In the new order you can be assured of a swift and bitter end.

  "We shall keep in touch," said Lister, "just to let each other know what is going on, yes?"

  "Of course," said Ba'al'uz.

  Lister put his pyramid on the table in the central chamber of his castle of Crowhurst deep in the frozen north and looked at his companion. The man lounged back in his chair, snowy wings spread out to either side of him, one foot resting on the seat of another chair, frost trailing down one bare shoulder and arm to where a hand rested on the tabletop, and regarded Lister with gray eyes alive with amusement.

  He was a strange creature, at first sight an Icarii, but at second...some-thing else. His form was not completely solid, but made up rather of shifting shades of gray and white and silver, and small drifts of frost. Even his eyelashes were frosted, and when he lifted a hand from where it had rested on the table it left a patch of icy condensation, which quickly evaporated in the warmth of the chamber. He was of a race called the Lealfast, and they had, for their own reasons, closely allied themselves with the Lord of the Skraelings.

  "Did you hear?" Lister said.

  "Yes," said his companion, Eleanon. "DarkGlass Mountain has begun its infernal whispering, as much as Ba'al'uz tries to deny it."

  "And caught Ba'al'uz in its clutches," said Lister. "The question is, my friend, do we continue to use the madman, or dispose of him here and now?"

  Eleanon gave a small shrug. "He is moving away from DarkGlass Mountain. He should still be malleable.

  Besides, you need him in the Central Kingdoms. Isaiah has to invade, and none of us wants to have an army waiting to meet him at the other end of the Salamaan Pass. Ba'al'uz can create the chaos to prevent that."

  "True," Lister said, his fingers tapping on the table. "We will need to keep an eye on Ba'al'uz, though.

  One never knows which way his loyalties will dart next."

  "I loathe it that he has one of the spires," said Eleanon, speaking of the glass pyramids. "If I'd known you would give one to that vile creature, then none of us would have consented to give them to you."

  "He does not know what it is," said Lister. "He has no means at all to comprehend it. But to the real news. Isaiah has brought Axis SunSoar back from the Otherworld. All on his own." Lister gave a little laugh. "I'd never thought Isaiah would have the initiative to do something like that. How do you feel about it, Eleanon? The legendary StarMan back from the dead?"

  "He means nothing to me."

  Lister gave him a long look. "Of course not. And he is, after all, so far away. But what if, Eleanon--just suppose, if you please--one day Axis thought to command you?"

  "I answer only to you, Lister."

  Lister gave a small smile, and then a nod. "And, of course...?"

  "And, of course, to the Lord of Elcho Falling."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Palace of Aqhat, Tyranny of Isembaard

  Axis enjoyed Ba'al'uz' absence. Without Ba'al'uz' sly, insidious terror, the entire palace relaxed:

  servants smiled as they went about their daily duties, the frogs who lived on the reed banks of the River Lhyl sang more melodiously, the sun shone less fiercely, and Isaiah spent less time at his official duties and more time at leisure, when Axis could join him.

  One of the first things Axis noticed was that, in the weeks following Ba'al'uz' departure, he was allowed far more liberty to move about the palace and its surrounds. Guards were either unobtrusive or utterly absent. Axis sti
ll could not ride out into the countryside by himself, but in all other respects he was given the freedom of Aqhat.

  Axis did not abuse the privilege. There was nowhere he wished to "escape" to, anyway. His family,

  everyone he loved, existed in a world other than this, and Axis did not fret for them. They were safe, and he believed that Azhure would know something of where he was. She would not fret, either, although Axis was sure she missed him.

  He most certainly missed her companionship and love. Not desperately, but it was a constant ache in his otherwise peaceful existence at Aqhat. To counter it, Axis spent hours each night writing Azhure long letters about what he'd done during the day, and his observations of Isaiah and of Isembaardian life in general. Axis had never been a great wordsmith. When he was BattleAxe and then StarMan, the pen had always been Axis' least favorite weapon of choice. Indeed, he'd hardly written anything save the occasional battle order, and he and Azhure had always been able to communicate by more magical means than letters during their occasional absences from each other. But now Axis found a great serenity in writing, and found himself enjoying playing with words, and expanding his literary skills.

  Most of all, though, Axis found it beneficial to order his experiences and thoughts. The mere process of revising his day onto paper deepened his experiences: he remembered odd comments or sights that he might otherwise have forgotten, and was able to glean new insights in relating individual experiences to each other.

  Once Axis had finished a letter, he carefully folded it, wondering what Azhure might think of what he'd written: how her interpretation of his experiences might differ from his, how she'd laugh over some amusing incident...or his cumbersome prose. The closing of the letter, and his imagining of Azhure's reaction to its contents, was the sweetest moment of the entire process, and one he looked forward to greatly.

  Then, once it was folded and sealed, Axis left the letter on the table in his chamber and went to bed,

  accompanied by the agreeable chorus of the frogs coming in the window.

  In the morning, every morning, the previous night's letter would be gone.

  Axis didn't know where the letters went. Perhaps, by some magic, they were actually transported to Azhure's hand. More prosaically (and far more likely), Isaiah had a servant creep in during the night and remove the letter to Isaiah's hand. Axis often had a quiet laugh to himself, imagining Isaiah secreting himself away in a corner somewhere to read what Axis had written, and he wondered if Isaiah kept the letters, or burned each one once he'd read it.

  Whatever the reason--Ba'al'uz' absence or Axis' letters--he and Isaiah were becoming closer. They spent many evenings together, and days were spent riding out across the plains to the east. More important, Isaiah began to include Axis into his public persona as tyrant.

  One day Isaiah asked Axis to attend him in his privy chamber in the third hour after dawn. Axis was curious. Isaiah had kept Axis very much in his personal sphere to this point, but Axis knew that the privy chamber was where Isaiah met with his generals and governors, as well as other high-ranking officials,

  and where he conducted the day-to-day business of the Tyranny.

  From his time spent with Isaiah, as well as occasional discussions with other household officials, Axis had gleaned that Isaiah, as all tyrants before him, governed his vast empire via the twin mechanisms of military generals and civil governors. Each dependency of the Tyranny was administered by a governor who reported directly to Isaiah, either in person three or four times a year, or via one of the governor's most senior and trusted aides. The entire tyranny was also coadministered by Isaiah's vast military. There was a similar number of generals to governors, and the generals played as important a role in the daily administration of each dependency as the governors.

  Axis thought it an unwieldy system, and one designed to create frustrations between the governors and the generals, but he understood its necessity as far as Isaiah was concerned. Infighting between governors and generals meant that Isaiah could the more easily maintain control over men otherwise more than likely to challenge him.

  The generals were there to keep the governors in order, the governors there to inform on the generals and their troop movements.

  From what Isaiah had said to him--or, rather, from what Axis had inferred from what Isaiah had not said--a tyrant spent most of his reign trying to outmaneuver his generals. They were the main threat to his throne. Any perceived weakness on the part of the tyrant, and the generals might think themselves strong enough to move against him. Isaiah was already in a vulnerable position, having lost his initial campaign of conquest against the Eastern Independencies, thus his generals watched him with constantly speculative eyes.

  Axis could only imagine how desperately Isaiah was needing to succeed in his invasion of the kingdoms north of the FarReach Mountains. Fail there, and he would lose both throne and life.

  A soldier escorted him to Isaiah's chamber. It was set high in the palace, with airy views over the Lhyl and the plains beyond.

  The one window that would have given view directly onto DarkGlass Mountain was kept shuttered.

  Isaiah was already there, as were his five senior generals, and Isaiah introduced Axis.

  "Axis SunSoar," said Isaiah, "of Tencendor. Its StarMan. I know you have heard his tale."

  Axis repressed a grin as he nodded at each of the five men in turn. That single pronouncement of Isaiah's had rendered them speechless. Axis had no idea why the generals had been called to conference with Isaiah, but he wagered they had not thought to meet a redundant legend. As he made eye contact with each one, he tried to evaluate them.

  The eldest and most experienced general was a white-haired but tall and fit man called Ezekiel, who had commanded for Isaiah's father as well. He had tight, watchful eyes, but Axis thought Ezekiel was possibly too old now to try for power himself. Nonetheless, he might prove an invaluable ally for someone else's attempt.

  Axis thought that attempt was most likely to come from the three generals in mid-age: Morfah, Kezial,

  and Lamiah. They looked tough and experienced, but were young enough to hunger for power.

  Axis wondered if they spent more time watching each other than eyeing Isaiah for any possible weakness.

  He distrusted the youngest of the generals, Armat, the most. Axis had heard from Isaiah earlier that Armat had only recently joined the ranks of the generals, and had the least experience of the five men. He was also, judging by the calculation in his dark eyes, the most ambitious. That ambition was combined with inexperience meant Armat was potentially the most dangerous. Where the others might hold back,

  Armat might well leap forward.

  It was Armat who stated what every one of the generals was thinking.

  "I thought you were dead," he said.

  "As I was," Axis said, knowing what Isaiah needed him to say, "until Isaiah pulled me out of my afterlife and back into this world. Your tyrant is a powerful man, gentlemen, with many hidden abilities."

  As one, the generals all shifted their gaze to Isaiah, who shrugged as if the matter was not even worth the discussion.

  "A small trick," Isaiah said, "taught to me by an old and wise man, many years ago."

  Now the generals all exchanged glances between themselves, and Axis almost smiled.

  Isaiah was a good manipulator.

  "Why resurrect a dead man?" said Ezekiel. "One who has lived his life."

  Axis repressed a grin. That last sentence of Ezekiel's translated directly to "an old and useless legend."

  "I felt myself in need of an impartial advisor," Isaiah said, moving to a table where several maps and sheaves of documents were spread out. "One who could step into any of your shoes"--his eyes slipped over the five generals--"should I be so unfortunate as to lose any one of you. You are all, naturally,

  aware of Axis' stunning prowess as a military commander."

  Stars, thought Axis, now I shall have to look out for the knife in my bac
k, as well!

  He happened to catch Ezekiel's glance, and was surprised to see amusement dancing there. Axis instantly revised his earlier estimation of him, thinking that the man might prove a worthwhile ally one day.

  Ezekiel was true to Isaiah and would support no rebellion against the tyrant.

  "To matters at hand," Isaiah said, waving the generals forward to the table. "We need to discuss our preparations for invasion. Reports?"

  For the next half an hour each general gave a terse summary of the current state of readiness. At this point, approximately a year away from actual invasion, the emphasis was on gathering new recruits,

  training, and stockpiling equipment and supplies.

  Axis was stunned by the size of the army that Isaiah was gathering--it would be at least half a million men, and probably much, much larger.

  "I would also like to raise the subject of resettlement at this time," Isaiah said.

  "Resettlement?" Axis said, then apologized for his interruption.

  "Whenever a tyrant gathers to himself a new dependency," Ezekiel said, "he ensures its `loyalty' by moving into its territories large numbers of Isembaardians to settle the new lands." He looked at Isaiah.

  "But this is not normally something we plan until our victory is assured."

  "Consider my victory assured," Isaiah snapped, "and consider it time to begin the planning for resettlement now." He pulled a map toward him, then tapped the upper corner of it. "The northwest of the Tyranny--the FarReach and En-Dor Dependencies--are poor and their peoples struggling," he said.

  "They shall be happy to remove themselves to the gentler and more fertile pastures of the Outlands or the Central Kingdoms above the FarReach Mountains."

  The five generals just stared at him.

  "But--" Morfah began.

  "You will be responsible for their organization, Morfah," said Isaiah, "together with Ezekiel. Unless you both feel yourselves incapable."

  No one said anything, but again there were hurried glances among the generals.