Enchanter

by Sara Douglass

  “WolfStar’s bow, and WolfStar’s hounds,” MorningStar continued. “Both came to Azhure. Would Sicarius answer to anyone but WolfStar?”

  Jack watched MorningStar very, very carefully.

  “You cannot be right, MorningStar. You cannot,” Axis insisted.

  “Of course,” said MorningStar. “I am not surprised that both you and your father defend her. If she was WolfStar then she would be of SunSoar blood, and both of you lust after her as if she were SunSoar bred and blooded.”

  Axis and StarDrifter stared at each other. Both remembered how their blood had sung for her.

  “No!” Axis cried. MorningStar must be wrong. “If she were SunSoar, MorningStar, you would feel it too. Am I right?”

  “Not necessarily, Axis. The sexual tug is always the strongest.” She arched an eyebrow. “And perhaps WolfStar did not want to conceal it.”

  By the Stars! Axis thought, trying to control his anger. “MorningStar,” he said, “WolfStar is going to extraordinary lengths of disguise if he assumes the form of a woman who can fall pregnant. That extreme is surely not necessary. Besides, Azhure cannot sing, as Rivkah, Ogden and Veremund can vouch,” the three nodded vigorously, “and, most important, she grew up in Smyrton, younger than me. What opportunity did she have to creep into Carlon to teach me as a baby? What?”

  “Axis is right,” Rivkah said evenly. MorningStar was a cold-hearted bitch on occasion. “You forget that I have known Azhure since she was about fourteen. I have watched her grow. Azhure may be a mystery but I stand with Axis and StarDrifter in denying that she is WolfStar SunSoar.”

  “Nevertheless, Axis,” said MorningStar, not ready to concede. “It might be a good idea to send for word to Smyrton. Make sure that people remember her being born, remember her growing from a small child.”

  Axis nodded curtly. “If that will ease your mind, MorningStar. But I am already convinced.” He stepped forward and caught MorningStar’s chin between his fingers, and his voice took on the menace of threat. “Do not think to attack her again, MorningStar, or move against her in any way. I value Azhure more than most about me. Do I make myself clear?”

  Rivkah smiled to herself. She had waited thirty years to see MorningStar finally put in her place.

  “Above all,” Axis said, stepping back from MorningStar and looking about him, “there is one thing that convinces me beyond doubt that Azhure cannot be WolfStar. No compassionate man, whatever the cause, could send hundreds of children as well as his own pregnant wife to the deaths that he did. But Azhure overruns with compassion and love—for me, for her child, and indeed, for all those who she calls her friends. All this despite nearly a lifetime of rejection. That alone convinces me that she cannot be WolfStar. Leave her alone.”

  He stared unblinking at the silent group watching him, then turned on his heel and stalked down the stairwell.

  32

  WINTER APPROACHES

  Winter approached, and with the arrival of Frost-month swarmed a dark, writhing mass of Skraelings above Jervois Landing. Gautier had stopped sending patrols northwards over the past few weeks—patrols had become a pointless waste of life. Gorgrael did not even bother to disguise his intention of storming into Achar through the defences of Jervois Landing.

  On the third day of Frost-month, Borneheld’s determination to hold Jervois Landing and redeem his performance at Gorkenfort was almost fanatical. He had returned from Carlon the previous evening, leaving behind a grateful Faraday (and a furious Timozel to guard her), and was now gathered with most of his commanders in the Tired Seagull.

  “And,” Nevelon stuttered, painfully aware of Borneheld’s expression, “Magariz said, and I quote, ‘Tell Borneheld that if he does not ally himself with the cause of the StarMan he will die. Tell him that only Axis can lead Achar to victory. Tell him that if he persists in denying the Prophecy then the Prophecy will tear him apart. If he has won a kingdom, then he will not long enjoy it. Tell him Axis comes, and he comes with the power of the Prophecy behind him’.” Nevelon stopped, awaiting the inevitable outburst.

  Yet Borneheld did not explode instantly into fury. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Nevelon, his lips thinning. What could Roland have been thinking of to pick this man as his second-in-command? Borneheld looked at Gautier. “Well?” he barked.

  “Axis must be alive, Sire,” Gautier said finally. “Magariz’s words, foolish and demented as they are, are full of confidence. He must know Axis is alive.”

  Borneheld grunted. He’d hoped that Axis had died amid a gnashing of Skraeling teeth above Gorkenfort, but deep down he wasn’t surprised to discover his traitorous brother had managed to survive. “And?”

  “And,” Gautier said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “he must have a force somewhere. Who knows how many of the three thousand who fled with him lived? Some must have died. Perhaps a thousand. Even the best commander, and Axis is not the best,” he hastened to add for Borneheld’s benefit, “would have lost a significant number to the Skraeling host which followed them out of Gorkenfort.”

  Borneheld stared back at Nevelon. “Well fed and uniformed, you say?” he snapped.

  “Yes, Sire, at least the two I saw were. Both were fit, and their uniforms clean and well made.”

  “And the emblem of the blood-red blazing sun,” Gautier murmured. “Axis has found a new mark, it seems.”

  Borneheld frowned. Where was his bastard brother? Over the past two months the men Gautier had sent into the southern Urqhart Hills had met with increasing resistance from patrols of a well-trained and well-supplied force. All wore the blazing sun emblem and one or two were led, it appeared, by this same woman who had struck Nevelon. It was now unsafe for Borneheld’s men to ride anywhere close to the Urqhart Hills, and even the eastern reaches of the Nordra were becoming dangerous. Not only did Axis have a force somewhere, it was growing stronger and extending its influence.

  “Where are they?” Borneheld asked.

  Nevelon cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, Sire, I’ve been thinking about this. It must be Sigholt. The garrison there deserted when they heard the Skraelings were moving eastwards. It has to be where Axis has based his force.”

  Borneheld jerked up, shocked, sending a goblet of wine spinning to the floor. “Sigholt!” he cried. Curse the commander who had panicked and abandoned one of the best garrisons in the country!

  “If Axis has a rebel force based in Sigholt, then he has the power to hurt you,” said Earl Jorge. Though he and Roland were sadly out of favour with the King, it would not stop Jorge speaking his mind when he felt it was needed. “And there are rumours that many of the peasants from Skarabost are moving north of the Nordra river to join him.”

  Borneheld swore, his temper smouldering dangerously. “Why?” he seethed. “Why do they move to join one who has allied himself with the Forbidden?”

  Roland considered Borneheld warily. “Axis still has a powerful reputation in Achar, Sire. As BattleAxe he was revered. That is what draws them.”

  Roland had lost considerable weight since the fall of Gorkenfort—his skin now hung in great folds from his cheeks and neck where the fat had dissolved. In past months he’d felt his mortality keenly, and without thinking he rubbed the spot on his abdomen where he could feel the great hard canker deep in his belly.

  Borneheld battled to hold his temper. Would he never be free of his hated half-brother? Why did so many rally to Axis’ name and not to his? Why revere Axis’ name and not his? Borneheld could not understand it. “We must stop him,” he muttered finally. “Attack Sigholt.”

  Everyone present, from Gautier and Roland to the anonymous guards, started in horror. Attack the rebels in Sigholt? Now? When the Skraelings could attack Jervois Landing any day? Madness!

  “Sire,” Gautier said carefully. “The Skraeling host masses to our north. Obviously they plan to attack soon. And Sigholt is an easily defensible fort. It would be, ah,” Gautier hesitated, “inadvisable to split our forces right now.”

&n
bsp; “So we leave him free to take Skarabost?” Borneheld spat.

  Gautier glanced at Jorge and Roland. “Majesty, Axis will face the same problems from the Skraelings as we do. Doubtless Gorgrael will attack through the WildDog Plains as well. Neither we, nor Axis, are going to be able to move very far from where we are encamped this winter. Axis must only have a small force, a few thousand at most. As we cannot move, neither can he.” He paused, summoning his courage. “Sire, we must seek a truce with them for this winter.”

  “What!” Borneheld exploded out of his chair.

  “Think of how we could use this to our advantage, Majesty,” Gautier said urgently, desperate to deflect Borneheld’s anger. “First of all, Axis is as keen as you are not to let the Skraelings further south into Achar. Whatever our differences, Axis hates the Skraelings as much as us. If he is at Sigholt, then his forces can do much of the work—and dying—to keep our north-western flank covered. And if we arrange a formal truce, we can get some idea of what force Axis commands. What do we know now? Magariz, some dark-haired woman who can use a bow, and a pack of vicious hounds!”

  “He is right,” said Jorge, his voice low and intense. “Not only do we not have the forces spare to attack Axis, we do not have the forces spare to defend Skarabost from the Skraelings if they come down through the WildDog Plains. Let Axis’ force do the work and the dying in defending our north-western flank. A truce would keep Skarabost free from both Skraelings and Axis.”

  Borneheld abhorred the idea of a truce with Axis, but he knew he couldn’t afford to fight on two fronts over the winter. He sat down again, deep in thought. He was desperately aware of just how important this coming winter campaign would be. If he lost Jervois Landing, then he would lose all. Hate Axis he might, but Borneheld knew when to compromise. He could not afford to move against him this winter, and if he could not afford to, then best he make sure that Axis was tied by his word to Sigholt. Axis’ death would have to be delayed until spring next year.

  He nodded curtly. “Very well. Gautier, can you make some initial contact with Axis’ force?”

  Gautier’s face relaxed. “If I send a patrol into the southern Urqhart Hills, then yes, I believe so. When do we want to meet them? Where?”

  Borneheld looked at Jorge. “What do you think?”

  Jorge thought quickly, surprised to have been asked. “We must have this arranged before Snow-month commences, Sire. That is only three and a half weeks away. Time? Last week in Frost-month at the latest. Where? On the Nordra south of the Urqhart Hills—perhaps Gundealga Ford. We do not want to be trapped within the Urqhart Hills, and if we state the Nordra, then that will draw Axis out of wherever he is based. He will have to come with a significant force to protect himself, and we will gain some idea of his strength.”

  “Good,” Borneheld said brusquely. “If I can’t flush Axis from Sigholt before next spring, then at least I can do something about these weak-minded fools who rush to join him from the backward villages of Skarabost, and cut off some of his supply routes as well. Nevelon! Fetch me pen and parchment. I must write to Earl Burdel in Arcness. I have a task for him. One he will enjoy.”

  He turned to Jorge, Roland and Gautier. “If I am to meet Axis then I need him to know what he faces. Contact Brother-Leader Jayme as well, and tell him that I want a senior member of the Seneschal present when I face this evil-bred brother of mine. Perhaps one of his advisers. Surely he could spare one from his side.”

  Borneheld sat back in his chair, a smirk spreading over his face. “I think I will enjoy meeting my brother over the treaty table, gentlemen. I want to see if he has grown any lizard features.”

  Absent from the deliberations, the Ravensbund Chief sat in his tent in the camp outside Jervois Landing. His wife, Sa’Kuya, prepared him a pot of Tekawai, the traditional tea of the Ravensbund people. The ritual was almost as old as the Ravensbund race, and the pot and cups Sa’Kuya used had been handed down over countless generations.

  Picking up a tiny cup, she handed it to Ho’Demi, carefully turning it so that the design emblazoned on the side of the vessel faced him.

  It was the blood-red blazing sun.

  Unsmiling now, for this was a serious ritual, Ho’Demi took the cup from his wife, bowing slightly as she handed it to him, then took a tiny sip.

  Sa’Kuya served the other four men in the circle about the brazier, then she bowed gracefully and retreated to the shadows further back in the tent. Ho’Demi glanced at his four fellow Ravensbundmen. Ho’Demi had been grateful to be left out of Borneheld’s discussion tonight because he wanted to speak again with the two Ravensbundmen who had accompanied Nevelon on patrol. He inclined his head at the two other Ravensbundmen present, elders whose advice Ho’Demi respected, but spoke to the two warriors.

  “Izanagi, Inari, I am grateful that you consented to sip Tekawai with me on such short notice.”

  Izanagi and Inari, both highly regarded warriors within the Ravensbund force—though Gautier had yet to acknowledge their value—lowered their eyes in reply and bowed slightly. It was always an honour to sit in Ho’Demi’s tent.

  For some time the five men sipped their tea in silence, their movements slow and graceful, contemplating the complications that night raid on Nevelon’s patrol had wrought among the Ravensbundmen.

  It was Ho’Demi, as was his right, who eventually spoke again. “Both the Wolven and the Alaunt hounds walk the night,” he sighed. “And they walk with those who wear the emblem of the bloodied sun.”

  “Both the Wolven and the Alaunt walk with the black-haired woman,” Inari said. “She who would be so beautiful if only her face were not so naked.”

  As the Ravensbundmen had passed on the Prophecy for thousands of years, so too had they passed on the story of WolfStar. The Icarii might think that none but they knew of WolfStar’s story, but the Ravensbundmen had heard of WolfStar many, many generations ago. And they knew enough to recognise WolfStar’s bow and his hounds.

  “I wish Borneheld’s wife, Faraday, and her companion, the Sentinel Yr, were here to discuss this with us,” said Ho’Demi. “But they are far away in Carlon, and this is a decision that I must make on my own.”

  “Must we make a decision so soon?” asked Tanabata, one of the elders, inclining his head in deference to Ho’Demi. His face was so aged and wrinkled that the swirling blue lines on his face had lost their symmetry.

  “I cannot ignore the signs, Elder Tanabata. Both this man, Magariz?” Ho’Demi raised his eyebrows at the two warriors for confirmation of the name, and they nodded. “And the woman, Azhure, wore the badge of the bloodied sun.”

  All present glanced at the designs emblazoned on their cups as Ho’Demi spoke.

  “The woman carries WolfStar’s bow, and his hounds trot by her side. Magariz spoke the name of the StarMan as if he were this Axis. ‘Axis comes with the power of the Prophecy behind him’,” Ho’Demi recited, repeating Magariz’s message for Borneheld. He looked at the others. “Is he the one who will forge the alliance to defeat Gorgrael?”

  Ho’Demi was worried. He had committed his people to fight for Borneheld—the Ravensbundmen hated Gorgrael and his Skraelings and, if Borneheld was committed to fighting the Skraelings, the Ravensbundmen would help him. But they owed their first allegiance to the Prophecy—and thus to the StarMan. But what were the marks of WolfStar doing marching with the StarMan? Ho’Demi did not understand it, and it made him reluctant to act. Where best did his people belong? With Borneheld, or with this unknown Axis?

  For an hour, their cups empty and cold in their hands, the Ravensbundmen debated back and forth what they should do. Ho’Demi hesitated to commit himself to Axis, not only because of the Wolven and the Alaunt, but also because none had seen Axis or his army. The patrols of the force Gautier’s men had engaged within the southern Urqhart Hills had been small…but they had also been highly skilled and disciplined.

  “It is not an easy age in which to make decisions,” Ho’Demi finally said, feeling his unce
rtainty keenly.

  “The decision should not be rushed, Ho’Demi,” the other elder present, Hamori, reassured. “You cannot hurry what may be the last remnants of your people into the unknown.”

  Ho’Demi, about to speak, was interrupted by a cough at the tent flap. “Come,” he called.

  One of the Ravensbund warriors entered. He bowed deeply, then knelt. “My Chief. A message from Gautier. You are to meet with him in the morning. The King intends to meet with the rebel force and their commander in three weeks’ time to offer a truce for the winter while we battle the Skraelings. You are to attend.”

  Ho’Demi glanced at the other four men, his eyes gleaming. “The gods have heard my prayers, my people. My questions may be answered after all.”

  33

  FORGOTTEN VOWS

  Axis stared into the fire, letting the crackling flames and the soft melody of the Star Dance relax him. He was still tired from the patrol he had led home last night. Driven by one of Gorgrael’s SkraeBolds, small bands of Skraelings were drifting south through the WildDog Plains, testing Axis’ strength. If the bands of Skraelings were relatively small, the wraiths were vicious and the fighting bitter, and his patrol had come home smaller than it had left. Soon he would have to move a sizeable force into the Plains.

  Damn it! All he wanted to do was lead his army south…south to wrest control of Achar away from Borneheld.

  “King!” Axis snorted, and took a sip of wine from the goblet he held. “I cannot imagine that Borneheld would make an impressive King.”

  Rivkah looked up from her embroidery. One son King, the other longed to be King. She shivered and blamed the cool air. Even by the steaming waters of the Lake of Life, winter chills were starting to penetrate Sigholt, especially once the sun went down. She looked about the rest of the group sitting before the fire in the Great Hall of Sigholt. Previously no-one had felt comfortable sitting in the vast Hall. Now, with Axis here, it somehow felt right.