Battleaxe

by Sara Douglass

  Arne moaned slightly in his sleep, and his hands clenched convulsively. Veremund paused a moment longer, then he released Arne and stood up. “It is all we can do. And now…” both turned to look at Axis, “now…”

  Axis lay fast in a deeper and more peaceful sleep than he’d had for many months. He looked years younger than he did when awake.

  Ogden whispered and looked at Veremund pleadingly. “May I be the one to…?”

  Veremund bowed slightly to his companion. “Dear one, we can both do this. If you place your hand thus, and I place mine so, then we can both share this moment.”

  He took Ogden’s hand and placed it over Axis’ face, then placed his own hand over Ogden’s, but so that his own fingertips touched Axis’ flesh between Ogden’s spread fingers.

  For a long moment both were completely still, their eyes perhaps glowing slightly more golden, as they listened to Axis’ heart.

  “Oh, yes, yes!” Veremund whispered, almost ecstatic. “Yes! I believe it is so! Oh! But wait, can you feel it?”

  Ogden, his own face close to Veremund’s, nodded slightly. “Yes. The Destroyer already seeks him out. He invades his dreams and seeks to create doubts. He seeks to create hate in his heart. And,” Ogden paused briefly, “oh my goodness! This one has already touched the Sacred Grove!”

  “All by himself,” Veremund said incredulously. “It is a wonder they let him live! We must watch over him. Ah, my sweet friend, fate has him firmly in hand. No wonder the Silent Woman Woods let him through unscathed. They had to.”

  Both let go of Axis’ face and sat back on their heels at his side.

  “And yet there is so much we do not know. My friend, if we can find his father, then we might be able to learn more about the Destroyer.”

  Faraday paused nervously in front of the tree. Jack had assured her she would not actually have to enter the Woods, that it would only be necessary to touch the nearest tree. Still, now that she was this close she wondered if it had been unwise to allow Jack to talk her into this.

  But Jack was grinning happily. Yr had followed them and now sat watching curiously from a few paces away. She blinked, her eyes bright blue even in moonlight, and Jack’s smile, if possible, became even broader than previously. He turned back to Faraday.

  “Lady? Lovely lady, let me take your pretty hand.” Jacks hands were rough and work callused, but somehow comforting. Faraday relaxed slightly. Jack winked at her. His eyes were the most unusual shade of green. Faraday smiled. How could she not trust this simple-hearted man?

  “Look, the trees are nervous too.”

  Faraday looked startled. “Nervous? Why?”

  Jack’s smile dimmed. “Axes, people bear axes. Trees do not like axes. Trees are afraid of people. They do not trust them. Lady, tell me, do you bear these trees ill-will in your heart?”

  Faraday looked bemused. “No, no, Jack. I bear them no ill-will. But I feel a little silly about all this.”

  “Come, lady. Place your hand against the tree trunk. Here.” He placed her hand on the rough bark, covering her small hand with his own roughened one.

  “What am I supposed to do, Jack? How can I talk to the tree and ask it my question?”

  “You must talk to it with your heart, lovely lady, not with words. Close your mouth and talk with your heart, with your feelings. Feel the tree, feel what it says to you.”

  The man was crazy, not just a simpleton, Faraday thought. Just to please him, she closed both her mouth and her eyes for good measure, and tried to let a stream of goodwill flow towards the tree. Then, just as she was about to step back, her eyes flew open.

  “Jack!” she gasped. Something unbelievable had just happened. Just when she had started to relax suddenly she felt another presence, it was the only way she could explain it. She could feel the tree, feel its emotions, in her own heart. The palm of her hand tingled.

  Jack smiled, and dropped his hand. Now Faraday pressed almost her entire body along the tree trunk. “Jack,” she said, her voice breathless with wonder, “it’s singing to me!”

  Jack’s eyes filled with tears.

  In the Keep, Ogden and Veremund were still crouched beside Axis. As the tree started to sing to Faraday their eyes widened and glowed so bright that the entire chamber was bathed in golden light.

  “Dear one!” Ogden gasped, and Veremund groped for his hand. Both were filled with wonder.

  “It’s singing to me,” Faraday whispered again. “I can feel it. Oh! It sings such a sad song. Oh Jack, it is so sad!”

  Jack stepped close and embraced both tree and Faraday. Faraday began to weep and laugh at the same time, the tree’s song was so sad yet so incredibly beautiful. “They are all singing to me,” she whispered. “The entire forest is singing to me!”

  Tears squeezed out of the corners of Yr’s eyes as she watched them. Tree Friend had been found at last. At last.

  Jack stepped back a little. “Ask of it what you will, Faraday my lovely lady, and if it can the tree will show you what it can see.”

  Faraday wondered fleetingly how Jack knew her name. She had never mentioned it. What did she want to ask the tree? Oh yes, Borneheld.

  Tell me of my husband, she asked the tree, asking with her heart, not words.

  For an instant the song faltered, then it started up again and an image so vivid filled Faraday’s mind that the night and the forest disappeared entirely from her sight.

  But the vision was not beautiful, and Faraday’s face crumpled in despair. She was in the Chamber of the Moons in the palace in Carlon, but now the tables that had been there the night of Priam’s nameday banquet had disappeared. The Chamber was bare, save for several hundred people who stood in a circle around its edges. Their faces were blurry, indistinct, their presence unimportant except as witnesses to the tragedy about to unfold. She felt herself held by the strong arms of Jorge, Earl of Avonsdale; although she strained against his arms to be free, reaching with her arms and hands into the centre of the Chamber, Jorge was too strong for her. She was crying, terrified by what she saw.

  The Tree Song altered, became harsher, and images began to flicker rapidly before her eyes.

  She saw Borneheld, stepping down from the throne. Two men circling, swords drawn, faces twisted into snarling masks of rage fed by long-held hatreds. Borneheld and Axis. Both bleeding, both stumbling with weariness. Red. Everything was red. Even the silent watchers were clothed in a red veil. A bloodied sun hanging over a golden field. The heat. The heat! Faraday flinched as a gigantic fireball consumed her. Two men circling, trading blows, bleeding. A feather. Many of them, floating about her. The two men fighting. A mother weeping. A scream, as if of an angered bird of prey. Swords, notched with use. A heart, beating uselessly. A golden ring, flying through the air. A scream—hers. “No!” Borneheld lunging at Axis, forcing him to a knee. Music, strange music, as if stone were being dragged over stone. Blood. Blood, everywhere. Dark Man watching, crying with laughter. Axis, on his knees, his sword flying out of his hand and sliding uselessly across the floor. A feather, she felt as if she were choking on a feather. A woman, beating at prison bars, pleading for release. A darker woman at a table, keeping tally, watching. Blood—why was there so much blood? Axis? Where was Axis? Faraday twisted away, gagging in horror. He was covered in blood—it dripped from his body, it hung in congealing strings through his hair and beard. He reached out a hand, then a great gout of blood erupted that covered her as well. She could feel it trickling down between her breasts, and when she looked for Axis all she could see was a body lying before her, hacked apart, and a golden and white form, as if a spirit, slowly rising behind it.

  The chamber rang with shouted accusations of murder and treachery.

  And all the time, the blood.

  She could feel it, smell it, taste it.

  Driven to madness by the feel of the warm blood running down her body, Faraday began to scream.

  She ripped her hands from the tree and screamed and screamed her horror, almost
falling in her distress. Jack grabbed her before she could run away and held her as tightly as he could, muffling her screams against his chest.

  “Naughty tree!” he said angrily, glaring at the tree. “Naughty, naughty tree! You made the lovely lady cry.”

  Now Faraday was sobbing uncontrollably, twisting feebly to free herself from Jack’s arms. Jack tried ineffectually to pat her back. “Please, pretty lady, sometimes the trees play tricks, yes they do. They show us only snatches of the truth, not all of it. Sometimes they warp what is truth, yes they do. Yes they do!” he said, giving the tree another angry glare.

  Faraday finally managed to tear herself free. “It was horrible, Jack. Horrible! I don’t want that to happen ever. Ever!” She started to back away from the trees, tears staining her cheeks, then stumbled. “I wish you had never brought me here, Jack. Go away!”

  Then she was gone, flying through the night, her cloak whipping back from her slim form, her white nightgown flapping about her legs. Yr gave Jack a reproachful look and then bounded after her.

  Jack watched them disappear into the night, then turned back to the trees. “Well, my friends, I don’t know what you showed her, but you scared her almost to death. Perhaps it was for the best. She needs to be awoken. She needs to have reason to fight. But I hope you haven’t frightened her too much…she is your only hope.”

  16

  TWO WHITE DONKEYS

  Axis woke feeling more refreshed than he could remember. For a long while he lay in his sleeping roll, too warm and relaxed to move. Then finally he sat up, slipped quietly out of his blankets and dressed; Gilbert and the two Axemen were still sound asleep. Stepping out of the chamber, Axis peered at the rusted iron staircase twisting far above his head into the upper reaches of the Keep. Eventually he lowered his eyes and walked down the staircase to the ground floor.

  Ogden and Veremund were at the table, arguing quietly but heatedly over a pile of books. Stuffed saddlebags lay on either side of the table. “Good morning, Brothers,” Axis called.

  The two Brothers looked startled, for they had not heard him come down the stairwell. For one instant Axis thought they were going to bow, but the moment passed and both merely inclined their heads his way.

  “Good morning, BattleAxe,” they said simultaneously.

  “What are you doing?” Axis asked, puzzled by their preparations for a journey.

  “We’ve decided that we must come with you,” Ogden said calmly.

  “Oh, for Artor’s sake!” Axis swore, annoyed. Not only women but doddery aged brothers as well? This was too much. “There’s really nothing you can do and we’re moving too fast and hard for you to keep up. All I need is the information you have about the Forbidden and this so-called Destroyer.”

  Veremund drew himself up to his full height, a good handspan taller than Axis himself, looking both deeply offended and utterly smug at the same time. “If we were to tell you all we know, BattleAxe, we would keep you here a lifetime. And a lifetime you do not have. No, far better that we bring ourselves, our knowledge, and a few,” he turned to glare at Ogden, “of our most important books so that we can respond to your queries as we go. What you need to know now may not be what you need to know once you reach Gorkenfort.”

  Ogden beamed at Axis, folding his hands across his ample belly. His habit looked filthy in the morning light; mould grew in some of the deeper creases. “The time has come for us to leave the Keep, BattleAxe. I’m sure that Jayme would agree with our decision if he were advised of it.”

  “I don’t have spare horses for you to ride out of these Woods.”

  “Oh, we have our own mounts stabled here, BattleAxe. Now, the more speed the better.” Ogden rubbed his hands together briskly and turned to his companion. “Veremund, we simply must take this volume. It contains vital information about the origins of the Avar people and their religious beliefs…”

  Axis hesitated, annoyed by the two Brothers’ casual assumption that they would ride with him. Then he shook his head. Perhaps Veremund was right. Who knew what new questions he might have in six weeks’ time? And if they could not keep up, he could leave them in Arcen with Faraday and her mother.

  Leaving them to argue over what books to take, Axis strolled outside. It was still cloudy, but it looked as though the rain would hold off for a while. He lowered his gaze to the golden lake. Not even a ripple marred its surface. Frowning, he squatted down at the water’s edge and dipped his hand in. He felt no sensation of wetness, and when he pulled his hand out again it was still completely dry. He quickly stepped back from the lake, making the sign of the Plough in the air to ward off enchantments. He would be glad to be gone from this place.

  Inside the Keep, Timozel, Arne and Gilbert had joined the two elderly Brothers. Gilbert was standing defiantly in front of the fire with Ogden and Veremund facing him, both obviously furious. Arne stood slightly to the side and between the three men. Timozel stood well back from them, not wanting to have anything to do with whatever the argument was about.

  Veremund turned as he heard Axis close the door. His face was white with fury. “This…this snake was trying to burn down the Keep, BattleAxe!”

  Gilbert lifted his chin and stared at Axis defiantly.

  Arne stepped forward. “I’m afraid it is true, BattleAxe. I found Gilbert in one of the upper-level rooms, one choked with musty old books. He had a tinderbox with him and was trying to lay a fire with some old pages.”

  “He had torn up one of the most exquisite volumes we have in the Keep for that very nefarious purpose!” Ogden cried, almost apoplectic with rage. He stepped forward as if to seize Gilbert, but Axis quickly laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

  “Is that true, Gilbert?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

  “BattleAxe. We both serve the Seneschal. How can you let this cursed Keep and its contents stand?” Gilbert cried. “These volumes are wicked—look how they have corrupted our two poor Brothers,” Veremund snorted, “to the point where they actually admire the Forbidden! Their minds are soft with age, they mumble about prophecies. Jayme would be horrified if he knew what was going on here. If he knew what this Keep really contained.”

  “Gilbert,” Axis’ voice trembled with rage, “it is not up to you to single-handedly determine to destroy what the Seneschal has maintained for a thousand years.”

  Veremund and Ogden glanced at each other. Best that Axis continue to believe that for the time being.

  “If you go back to Jayme and give him your opinion that the lot should go up in flames, and if he should agree with you, then fine. I will light the pyre myself.” Ogden winced, but kept still under Axis’ hand as the BattleAxe continued. “But you have no right to destroy this building and its contents by your own judgement, Brother Gilbert. Do you understand me?”

  Gilbert stared at him defiantly. “You are wrong, BattleAxe, but I must comply with your orders. My weak body is no match against your sword, and that of your two henchmen.” His eyes swept over Arne and Timozel, then returned to Axis. “But I will inform the Brother-Leader of your unreasonable and, might I say, somewhat disturbing championship of these two old Brothers and their books. Perhaps their behaviour can be excused by their weak minds, but you appear too ready to listen to words of the Forbidden, Axis, before those of the Seneschal.”

  “I keep an open mind,” Axis snarled, “and I am willing to listen to all who are willing to talk to me. And if you want to run squealing to Jayme I cannot stop you. But, by Artor, the moment you are out of these woods you are on a fresh horse and heading back to the Tower of the Seneschal. And,” Axis let go of Ogden’s shoulder and stepped forward to seize the front of Gilbert’s habit, “you’ll take a copy of that Prophecy back to Jayme as well, if I have to brand it on your forehead. Do you understand me?”

  Gilbert sneered into Axis’ eyes. “You may be sure that I will report everything that I have heard and observed when I get back to the Brother-Leader, BattleAxe. Everything.”

  Axi
s stared at him a moment longer, then let go of his habit, pushing the Brother back half a step as he did so. He turned to Arne. “And what were you doing in the upper levels, Arne?” he asked, his tone still low and dangerous.

  Arne cleared his throat. “I heard a noise, commander, and I thought I’d investigate. I knew Brother Ogden and Brother Veremund were down here.”

  The two elderly Brothers regarded him benignly. He would do well.

  Axis wasn’t satisfied with Arne’s explanation, but he wasn’t prepared to push him in front of Gilbert. He shifted his hard stare to Timozel to search for any guilty expression, then turned back to Ogden and Veremund. “How long before you’re ready?”

  “We’re all but ready now, BattleAxe. Give us a moment to pack some food and saddle our mounts and we will be ready.”

  “Make sure you are,” Axis barked and turned to Arne and Timozel. “As you can see, Ogden and Veremund will be coming with us to render assistance as they may.” Neither Arne and Timozel dared say anything in Axis’ present mood. “I’m sure you’re as eager as I am to get out of these Woods, so breakfast as quickly as you can and then saddle the horses.”

  Both Arne and Timozel understood the order as “forget breakfast and saddle the horses now!” and were quickly out the door. Axis then pulled out a bench with his foot and sat down. “Now, Gilbert. Shall we sit down and wait together?” He broke a piece of fresh bread and covered it with some bacon from a dish. “You’d better eat something, Gilbert,” he said around a mouthful of bread and bacon. “You’ll have a hard ride back to the Tower of the Seneschal if you want to get there as quickly as I think you do.”