by Sara Douglas
"I know. You had every right to."
"You don't seem to trouble me so much now, though."
He laughed. "Good."
"I can't believe I am about to say this, and I didn't realize it until very recently..."
"Yes?"
"I am very glad you came into my life, StarDrifter. I wish I had not lost Ezra. I wish I had not done many things. But I am glad you came into my life."
StarDrifter took a very deep breath, sudden emotion bringing tears to his eyes. He tilted her head, and kissed her, gently at first, then with more desire.
"You know," he said eventually, "I think we may be the only reasonably happy couple in this damned palace right now."
"StarDrifter, tell me, if you can, how shall we manage this lovemaking, with our backs so sore and awkward?"
Again he laughed, and he thought that he had not laughed this much in many years.
"You are no granddaughter of mine, Salome, if you cannot solve such a simple problem."
"I thought I might give you the opportunity to appear wise. That expression appears so rarely on your face."
StarDrifter grinned, pulling her onto his lap. "Axis was right. You do take after my mother."
Later, when the rest of Sakkuth was rising and donning their invasion clothes, StarDrifter lay in bed,
Salome asleep beside him, thinking about what Axis had said.
The lost Icarii families had interbred with the Skraelings.
StarDrifter couldn't believe it. Rather, he could not bring himself to believe it. How could any Icarii lie down with a Skraeling?
Axis must be wrong.
Surely.
If he wasn't, then StarDrifter dreaded to think what this half-breed Icarii race was like.
Skraelings, with wings.
He inched a little closer to Salome, running a gentle hand over her stomach.
The baby was asleep inside her, lulled by their earlier lovemaking.
A son. StarDrifter had sired two other sons. One, a horror--Gorgrael, the former Lord of the Skraelings. One, a wonder--Axis, StarMan and savior of Tencendor.
What would this son prove?
StarDrifter moved his thumb slowly, backward and forward, softly rubbing Salome's skin.
She opened her eyes, and looked at him.
He rested his head on her shoulder, his thumb and hand still gently stroking her belly, and they lay like that for another hour before rising for the day.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Borderlands of Hosea
Good news.
Lister had been sleeping soundly, Inardle warm against his body, when Isaiah spoke in his mind and woke him.
"What?" he whispered, feeling Inardle stirring.
Maximilian is with me in Sakkuth. I have him. Ishbel drew him like a lodestone.
"Oh, praise all gods!" Lister said, sitting up and snatching at a cloak to wrap about his shoulders. He would be more than glad when he could swap this tent for more salubrious surroundings.
At his side Inardle opened her eyes, watching her lover carefully, while outside the never-ending stream of Skraelings continued south, south, south.
"You shall not lose him?" Lister added, a little anxiously.
I hope not--I will not hold him prisoner, Lister. I do not think he will try to escape.
"He knows about the baby?"
Yes. He knows. He despairs.
"As should we all," Lister said. "Did you speak of Elcho Falling?"
Yes. But tonight was not the time to speak of it in depth.
"Soon, perhaps. Tell me, when do you leave for the Salamaan Pass?"
Within a few days. Where are you?
"Approaching Hosea. Isaiah...the Skraelings are changing."
In what manner, Lister?
"They are growing dogs' heads."
[ Part Nine ]
CHAPTER ONE
Sakkuth, Isembaard
Maximilian woke slowly, reluctantly. His night had been filled with violently colored, fragmentary dreams--partly of Ishbel, partly of the vision he'd had while on the way to meet Ishbel in Pelemere.
Maximilian did not want to wake. Once he was awake he'd need to cope with the loss of Ishbel and their child, as well as the knowledge that he would need to face what all kings of Escator before him had dreaded facing: the terrifying responsibilities of their far more ancient and frightening title...the Lord of Elcho Falling.
Intertwined through all these dreams and fears and thoughts was the knowledge that he'd drunk far too much, and that he'd need to face the coming day's trials with a hangover of monstrous proportions.
Maximilian roused, moving a little more firmly against the body in his bed, wrapping one arm about the woman's waist, feeling the delight of her naked back pressing against his flesh, thinking that his dreams and memories had duped him and that Ishbel had been here all along, and that she--
"Maxel?"
He leapt into wakefulness, recoiling away from Ravenna.
"I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I woke you, I didn't mean to. Go back to sleep, Ravenna."
He rolled out of bed, hastily pulling on some clothing and painfully aware of Ravenna watching his every move. It was still early, barely light, and he mumbled something about getting some fresh air and fled the chamber.
Maximilian more than expected to find guards outside the main door to his apartment, but the corridor was empty. Feeling nauseated, both from the effects of the wine and the shock of discovering Ravenna in his bed, Maximilian wandered through the palace into the central courtyard where he sank down on a cask, resting his head in his hands as he allowed the rising sun to warm him.
Oh, gods, what had he done?
He liked Ravenna, but he didn't love her, or really particularly desire her. He was grateful to her, as he was to Garth, and had once been to Vorstus, for their efforts in rescuing him from the Veins, but over the past year Maximilian was very much aware that he'd been growing distant from these three friends.
Vorstus because Maximilian now suspected him of manipulating his early life, perhaps even of causing him to be interred in the Veins in the first instance, and Garth and Ravenna because...well, they now belonged to an earlier part of his life, and while he liked them, he wanted to move on.
Ishbel had made all the difference. She had opened that massive gap between what he had once been and where he was now going.
Maximilian had been barely living before Ishbel had come into his life. She had brought great pain, and frustration, and fear when Maximilian had realized that she trailed Elcho Falling at her heels, but she also brought love.
Gods, he shouldn't have slept with Ravenna. Maximilian would have liked to blame the wine, or even Ishbel for driving him to such desperate distraction, but in the end it had been his error of judgment, and his weakness, for not pushing her away.
Gods only knew to where it would lead.
"Maximilian? You look like you could do with some of this."
Maximilian jerked his head out of his hands, squinting into the bright sun.
It was Axis, holding out what looked like two mugs of tea in one hand and a plate of bread and fruit preserves in the other.
"I saw you from the kitchens," said Axis. "Thought I'd bring you some breakfast." He paused. "You look dreadful."
"Thank you," Maximilian said, surprising himself by meaning it. There were few people he would like near him at the present moment, but he thought Axis might be one of them.
"It was a bad day for you yesterday," Axis said, sitting down on a neighboring cask and handing Maximilian the tea and plate.
Maximilian answered only with a grunt, taking a tentative sip of the tea, then a longer drink. "You have seen your father?" he said after a moment.
Axis smiled. "Yes. Yes."
"He was desperate to see you. Longing for you."
"He means the world to me, Maximilian. Thank you for bringing him to me."
"What did you make of Salome?"
Axis laughed, stretching his
long legs into the sun. "She is a true SunSoar. I am glad my father found her first, for I think she would have been too much for me to manage."
Maximilian almost smiled. "I have heard about the SunSoar attraction to each other."
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea, sharing the bread and preserves.
Maximilian found that the tea, the food, and the company were making a surprising difference to how he felt. The tea and food soothed his stomach and head, and Axis soothed his nerves. From all he knew of Axis, Maximilian understood that he would be very unlikely to judge.
"Can you tell me what happened to my daughter?" Maximilian asked finally, very softly, looking ahead rather than at Axis.
"Yes," Axis said and, in a low voice, told Maximilian not only about the manner of his daughter's death,
but of the relationship between Isaiah and Ishbel.
At the end of it, Maximilian put his empty mug down, lowered his face once more into his hands, and wept. Axis put a hand on his shoulder, and for ten minutes or more they sat there, two men sharing grief,
companionship, and understanding.
"Isaiah keeps on about this Lord of Elcho Falling," Axis said eventually. "Who is he, Maximilian?"
Maximilian gave a deep sigh, releasing the last of the emotion spent over the past minutes. "I am the Lord of Elcho Falling," he said and, at Axis' surprised look, continued. "The title of King of Escator is the far lesser of the Persimius titles. Elcho Falling is an ancient kingdom that encompassed virtually the entire continent above the FarReach Mountains. As a kingdom it broke up into many individual independent realms well over two thousand years ago. The ancient line of Persimius, which controls the hereditary titles of Elcho Falling, retains the crown and the ancient rings of office. We do not like to anticipate the day when we shall be required to wear the crown once more."
"Why not?"
"Because it is a thing of darkness," Maximilian said, his tone now short. He rose, handing his mug back to Axis. "I thank you for both the tea and the companionship, Axis. Perhaps we shall have time for more of both over the coming days. Now, do you know where I might find Isaiah? Without Ishbel, if you please."
Isaiah turned from the two generals with whom he'd been consulting, saw Maximilian waiting just inside the door of the chamber, and waved the generals away.
"Well," Isaiah said as he walked over, "it is easy to see that you did not spend a good night."
"Don't preach to me, Isaiah. We need to talk."
"Indeed, but I thought I'd tried last night to--"
"That was a shitty time to approach me, Isaiah, as well you know."
"So tell me," Isaiah said, "to whom do I speak today? The somewhat bedraggled King of Escator...or the Lord of Elcho Falling?"
"I do not yet wear the crown, Isaiah."
"But you are prepared to accept it."
There was a long pause, in which Maximilian would not meet Isaiah's eyes.
Then, finally, Maximilian shifted his gaze back to Isaiah's. "Yes," he said.
Isaiah's shoulders visibly slumped in relief. "Thank the gods," he mumbled.
"What is happening?" Maximilian said. "Can you show me?"
Isaiah led the way to a large map unrolled across a table. "The Skraelings spent the past eighteen months massing in the north. Currently they are swarming south, heading..."
"For the FarReach Mountains," Maximilian said. He paused a moment, one finger tapping idly at the map. "This isn't an `invasion' force you command at all, is it, Isaiah?"
"No," said Isaiah, "it is an evacuation. See..." His finger traced a path through the FarReach Mountains,
then down the territory to the west of the River Lhyl. "The Skraelings will seethe down through the western parts of Isembaard toward where Kanubai waits, there to form his army. I have emptied that part of Isembaard as best I can...and encouraged families of the army to travel north with their husbands and fathers."
"Then why not just simply call it an evacuation?"
"An `invasion' was the only means I could manage an evacuation, Maximilian. If I had suddenly announced that my tyranny was to be invaded by an army of wraiths, flocking to their newly risen ghastly commander, I would have been dead within a day by the hand of one of my generals. An invasion they can understand, an evacuation not. They would have seen it as a weakness on my part."
"And Ishbel? Why bring her here, Isaiah? Why--"
"No one planned for her to come to Isembaard, Maximilian. Believe it or not, all I and Lister have ever wanted was to see her safe with you."
"But still you managed to seduce her."
"Maximilian--"
Maximilian waved a hand. "Leave it."
"She is not happy with me, Maximilian."
"Leave it, I said!"
"Then stop bringing it up!" Isaiah snapped. He took a deep breath, and inclined his head slightly. "I
apologize."
Maximilian was not sure what it was that Isaiah apologized for--seducing Ishbel or for snarling his response--but inclined his own head in acknowledgment of the apology. He wondered if they were going to spend their entire lives alternatively snapping and inclining their heads at each other.
"I will go north with you," Maximilian said. "It makes sense. We are, I suppose, headed for the same place."
Elcho Falling.
"Maximilian," Isaiah said. "Can you do it? Can you assume the mantle of the Lord of Elcho Falling?"
Maximilian thought about all the empty spaces and chambers within the Twisted Tower, all the lost knowledge. "Who cares what I answer, Isaiah? I am all that you--and Elcho Falling--have."
On his way back to his apartments, trying to work out in his head what he could say to Ravenna,
Maximilian literally walked into Ishbel as he turned a corner.
They sprang back from each other.
There was a stunningly awkward moment.
"Sorry," Maximilian and Ishbel both said at the same time, then both reddened, looking away.
The moment had passed where they could have just walked away from each other. Now they were going to have to pass a few words, at the very least.
"I said some cruel things last night," Maximilian finally said, taking all his courage in hand to look Ishbel in the face. "I should not have done. I apologize."
It was the day for apologies, he thought.
"What you heard and saw would have tested anyone's patience, Maximilian. I, ah, I just...I can't believe you came all this way for me."
"There was no reason for you to believe it. Not the way I'd treated you after Borchard's death."
There was another awkward silence.
"I suppose you'll be leaving soon," said Ishbel, her voice now slightly strained.
"No. I will be traveling north with Isaiah's army."
"Oh."
"I'm sure there will be enough room for us to avoid each other."
"Yes."
Silence.
"Ravenna seems a nice girl," Ishbel said, both her color and her tone revealing her desperation to find something to say.
Ravenna seems a nice girl. If it had been under any other circumstances Maximilian would likely have smiled at Ishbel's distracted attempts to keep conversation going. He might even have laughed.
But not after last night.
Guilt swept through him, stronger than ever before. "Yes," he said, "Ravenna is a nice girl."
Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Ishbel staring after him.
CHAPTER TWO
Salamaan Pass, Northern Kingdoms
Axis had led some massive armies in his time, but nothing like what Isaiah now commanded, nor had he ever managed to trail behind such an army with half of their wives and children and great-aunts, not to mention livestock and worldly goods. He would not have liked to lead this number of people (almost a million, by the stars! ) and he most certainly would not have liked to be responsible for its organization.
Isaiah, however, man
aged it without apparent effort, or concern, or a single worry line down the center of his tanned forehead.
The running, organization, and movement of this unbelievable column of people certainly kept his generals busy, and it most definitely kept Axis running from the time he rose in the morning until that blessed hour when he could hit his sleeping roll late at night. Isaiah had ordered the march forward three days after Maximilian and his party had arrived in Sakkuth. Getting the army (and its innumerable followers) on the move had been like trying to waken a vast, grudging, sleepy monster--but once wakened, it was seemingly impossible to stop. Axis was not sure that the entire column ever did halt. There always seemed to be some part of it snaking forward. Ten thousand may stop here for a meal and a rest, but somewhere else ten thousand rose from their sleeping rolls, and stretched, then picked up their packs and weapons and trudged forward yet once more.
Isaiah traveled in a relatively small convoy of commanders. He lived as one of the soldiers, and moved his convoy between others within the greater column. Isaiah's convoy was Axis' "home" within the vast mass marching forward, but he tended to see Isaiah only once every two or three days as Isaiah constantly had him traveling between different sections, probing, delivering orders, chatting to commanders, receiving reports, laughing, shouting, and sometimes sitting down for a few minutes with his harp, entertaining men grouped about fires with songs and tales from the myth and reality of Tencendor.
Axis spoke with generals and foot soldiers alike, and covered leagues of territory every day as he moved about his appointed tasks.
Each day was hectic and tiring beyond belief, but Axis loved it. He gained a sense of the army, of its structure, its abilities, its heart and soul, which would otherwise have been virtually impossible.
Nonetheless, it surprised him when, a few days after they'd entered the Salamaan Pass, and about ten after they'd left Sakkuth, a group of men in a section he passed on his horse called out to him, and cheered him as he went, as if he were their chief instead of Isaiah.
His father, StarDrifter, and Maximilian and the others of their party, traveled in their own convoy, which kept to its strictly appointed place in the overall army. They were not guarded as such, but Axis was aware that Isaiah had set men to watching them.