Not to tell the men is to insult them, he thought, especially as the Icarii and Avar knew and were undoubtedly making preparations in every home against possible invasion.
Black resentment gripped him. “I must speak with Caelum,” he said. “Now. Herme, will you accompany me?”
“Gladly, sire.”
“And I!” cried Theod.
Zared managed a small grin at the man’s enthusiasm. “Nay, Theod. You stay here. I’d hate your general good cheer to force even Askam to smile.”
And, to the accompaniment of his commanders’ laughter, Zared and Herme strode away to Caelum’s camp fire.
“StarSon?” Zared said. “I need to speak with you.”
Caelum looked up from his plate of dried vegetables and stew. He glanced at Askam, on the other side of the fire, then nodded. “Sit down.”
Zared and Herme sat down cross-legged before the fire, Zared wincing as the half-healed wound tugged at his insides.
“Caelum. The men need to be told what they ride to face.”
Caelum chewed on a mouthful of food, then swallowed. “It would be worse to tell them.”
“What? Worse? How so, StarSon?”
“What could I tell them? That some unknown demonic force threatens from the stars? That Drago SunSoar leads them, no doubt to feed his own ambition? That would only make them fear, Zared.”
And fearing, Caelum thought, would make them more readily desert the fragile peace now holding these two forces together.
“They fear now, Caelum. They understand that something is badly wrong – why else such a forced march? They also understand that the threat is deadly. For the gods’ sakes, Caelum, tell them! They deserve to know.”
“Curse you, Zared! Accept my judgment as you accepted my command. I am tired, and –”
Zared swept an arm about. “All of us are tired, Caelum. But the majority of the men out there are being unnecessarily frightened.”
“They would be terrified if they knew the details, Zared.”
Zared turned his face away.
Herme watched him, then spoke himself. “StarSon, I have led men for many years. I know men.”
He paused, wondering how to put this diplomatically. “StarSon, you have spent so much time locked in Sigholt that perhaps you cannot remember what it is that ordinary men think and fear. At the moment, they fear that they are being led into a deadly danger that they know nothing about.”
“All I ask of them is that they obey orders,” Caelum said fiercely.
“But –”
“If I tell them, Herme, they will run screaming into the night. Curse you, Herme, Zared! Will you not follow orders?”
Zared held his temper in check. “Caelum, I beg you. Tell these men what they ride to meet. You think they will run screaming into the night if you tell them the truth, I say that not telling them will make them desert you far earlier.”
“With you at their head, no doubt,” Askam said sarcastically.
“That will be enough, Askam!” Caelum said and threw his plate down. “Zared, you may leave.”
Zared hesitated, then rose, indicating that Herme should do the same. He paused, stared at Askam’s slight smile, then marched off.
Zared fumed all the way back to his camp site. Just before he reached it, he turned to Herme. “Call a meeting of all my commanders,” he said. “Moonrise, at my fire.”
Herme nodded, and walked off.
Zared sighed, rubbed his eyes – gods! When would he recover his strength? – and walked the few remaining steps to his camp fire. Perhaps he should talk with Leagh, too, but he’d been too tired even to do that.
He walked into the circle of light about the fire, then stopped dead in amazement. Sitting with Leagh were two other women, one Icarii, one human.
“Zenith?” he said wonderingly, then turned in confusion to the other woman. He’d never seen her before in his life.
“Who are you?”
His voice was rougher than he meant, but Zared unaccountably felt discomforted by the woman. She was lovely, yes, but there was something more about her.
A power.
“My name is Faraday,” she said, and rose gracefully, holding out her hand. “And I apologise for disturbing the peace of your fire.”
“You’re legend only!” Zared said, so shocked he did not think to take the woman’s hand.
“And that is indeed a sad epitaph for a living breathing woman,” Faraday said. “Please, I will not harm you.” She waggled her fingers a little impatiently.
Zared realised his rudeness and hurriedly took her hand, wondering that he could still remember the courtly graces in this most incongruous of settings.
“My Lady Faraday, I only meant that your bravery and courage have reached legendary proportions within Tencendor.”
She smiled prettily. “And do you not have a greeting for your niece?”
Zared let her hand go, stepped about the fire and enveloped Zenith in a bear hug.
“Zenith! Whatever happened to you? I’d heard you disappeared from Sigholt –”
She leaned back in his arms. “It’s a long story, uncle. I left with Drago…willingly. But, look at you, Leagh has told us that you have been injured.”
“I am healing, Zenith. What…what are you doing here?”
Zenith let him go and indicated they should sit down again. Zared hesitated, then sat next to Leagh.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
Faraday noted, then smiled gently at Zared. “I have heard you now wear the crown of Achar, Zared. King Zared and Queen Leagh – this can hardly be the court you imagined.” She looked about her.
Zared suddenly remembered that Faraday and her husband, Borneheld, had been the last reigning monarchs of Achar. He opened his mouth, but he did not know what to say.
“Say nothing,” Faraday said. “I care not for crowns now. Zenith and I,” she took her friend’s hand, “have both come back from the dead, in a manner of speaking. Now we have other things to worry about than titles and crowns.”
“Faraday, Zenith, what are you doing here?”
“Well, first,” Zenith said with a hard gleam in her eye, “we have come to comfort your wife, Zared. It seems she has been unhappy.”
Zared dropped his eyes. “We have not made a good start to our marriage.”
“Then do something about it,” Faraday said sharply. “Both of you are mortal, and have no time to chase each other through successive aeons trying to make up for mistakes hundreds of years old.”
Zared suddenly laughed, surprising himself. He took Leagh’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I am sorry,” he said, and smiled at her.
“And I. I should have thought before –”
“Hush,” he said and, leaning forward, kissed her gently on the lips.
“Good,” Faraday said. “Now as to what other purpose Zenith and I have…well, all of it you need not know, but we are on our way to the Ancient Barrows.”
“As are we.”
“Yes, as are you. But I think your mission a sad error.”
Zared looked at the two women carefully. “But Caelum says that his father thinks we can help.”
“Axis does not always know what is right or not,” Faraday said. “Frankly, I don’t think Axis really knows what to do. He just feels comfortable with an army surrounding him. It is the influence of his youth, I suppose.”
She shrugged, and looked at Zenith. “You explain, Zenith.”
Zenith nodded, studied her hands for a few moments, then raised her eyes gravely. “Zared. Do you know what comes through the Star Gate?”
“Demons,” he answered. “Creatures from within the stars themselves, for all I know. And WolfStar’s nemesis. All the children he murdered so many thousands of years ago.”
Zenith nodded. “And they bring dreadful powers, for all we know – but, frankly, we do not truly know what they bring. But did you know that their approach is seriously sapping the Icarii Enchanters’ powers?”
“What do you mean?”
“Over the past weeks I have felt my Enchanter powers fade. The Star Dance itself is diminishing, faltering.”
“But, how –”
“Shush, uncle, and let me finish. As these Demons approach, their influence is clouding the Star Gate itself. The Star Dance cannot get through, and without the Star Dance, we have no powers.”
Zared stared at her, aghast. There was a step behind him, and Herme, Theod and several of Zared’s commanders appeared.
“Not now,” he began, but Faraday stopped him.
“No. They need to hear this as well. Please be seated, gentlemen.”
Somewhat bemused, the men sat down, crowding about the fire.
“Go on, Zenith,” Faraday said.
She spoke slowly, emphasising each word. “The approach of these Demons is not only stripping the Icarii Enchanters of their powers, but also the Star Gods. By the time the Demons break through, all Enchanters, as Star Gods, will have lost their powers completely.”
There was utter silence.
It was Leagh who finally answered. “But that would be…” she frowned, trying to come to terms with the concept. “Unthinkable. Tencendor with no magic?”
“Some will remain,” Faraday said. “In the trees and forests, although we cannot know how the Demons will affect them in the long term. And within…several other creatures. But nothing will compensate Tencendor for the loss of the Enchanters’ power, nor that of the Star Gods.”
All the men present glanced between themselves. They were all loyal to Zared, and to the concept of a reborn Achar, but they were also men who had lived most if not all their lives within close proximity to the Icarii and to the magic and rites of the birdpeople. Many of them had travelled to the forests, and had felt the power there. They might have been only mortal, but they knew and recognised the worth of enchantment.
“Zared, gentlemen, listen.” Zenith leaned forward now, her voice sharp, demanding to be believed. “When the Star Dance fades completely, then there will be nothing that can prevent those Demons coming through. Nothing.”
“Then…” Zared’s voice trailed off.
“Then you are all riding to certain death!” Leagh cried, and grasped Zared’s hand yet harder. “Is that what you’re saying, Zenith?”
“Yes. I am afraid so.”
The commanders present exchanged fearful glances and shared murmured words.
“We can’t ride on,” Zared said.
Faraday shook her head very slowly and deliberately.
“Damn it!” Zared whispered, trying to think.
“Zared, is there any way you can persuade Caelum to turn about?”
Zared looked at Faraday. “I doubt it. He is convinced that Axis needs us at the Star Gate.”
“Lady Faraday,” Theod said. “What can we do? Are you saying that nothing can ever be done about these Demons? That our land is to be condemned to…what?”
Faraday and Zenith had a fair idea to what Tencendor would be doomed when the Demons broke through, but they had no intention of telling these men that. They had to leave them some hope.
“We cannot know,” Faraday said gently. “But we fear very much. We may not have answers, but we have advice, and we beg you to listen to it.”
“And that is?” Herme asked.
“You are currently about four or five leagues due north of the Silent Woman Woods. My friends, I think that for the moment the trees will provide your best cover. We think the Demons will leave the trees well enough alone for the time being.”
We hope, she thought.
“And our families?” Gustus asked, his voice tight and angry, although his ire was not directed at these two women. Damn Caelum to a worm-ridden AfterLife! The majority of the men still didn’t even have the vaguest idea about the danger threatening the Star Gate, let alone this horror!
“On our way north,” Zenith said, “Faraday and I met with several groups of merchants moving north, some to Carlon, some to other centres. We gave them what advice we could without unduly frightening them. The last thing we wanted to do was to create panic.”
“And that advice is…?” Killingrew asked. He had a wife and two young children awaiting him in Carlon. Right now he felt like abandoning everything and rushing home to see to their safety.
“There will be certain times of the day when it will be horrific to go outside,” Zenith said. “More than dangerous. Dawn and dusk, all through the night. Mid-morning and mid-afternoon. And, eventually perhaps, midday.”
If we cannot succeed, Faraday thought. If we do not succeed, then midday will be the most terrible time of all.
“But if people stay indoors during those bad times, if they shutter windows and doors, then they will survive.”
“But what sort of life is that?” Zared said angrily. “There will be only a few hours each day when people can go outside, when fields can be tilled, when –”
“It will be a life,” Faraday said. “During those times we have said, the Demons will roam.”
“But what can we do?” Herme threw up his hands in despair. “Can we battle these fiends with sword and steel?”
“No,” Faraday said. “I do not think so – but, hush! I do think I can find a way. I am sure of it.”
“What?” Zared asked. Both his hands were wrapped about Leagh’s now.
“Zared, forgive us if I do not explain now,” Faraday said. “I am still unsure of my path, and there are unexplainables I cannot foresee.
“What I ask of you,” she continued, “what I beg of you, Zared, is to save as many of these men as you can. Get them to the Silent Woman Woods as fast as you can, because that is the nearest shelter for a body this size. I think there is less than a day remaining before the Demons attempt to break through. Once there, wait for us. But, hark me true, do not go near the Cauldron Lake!”
“Why?”
“Because I fear the Demons may visit. Zared, they come into Tencendor for what lies at the bottom of the Sacred Lakes. And Cauldron Lake is so close to the Barrows.”
Zared was too depressed to ask any more questions.
“Wait for us in the northern Silent Woman Woods,” Zenith said quietly. “We will return to you there. Believe in us.”
Faraday looked about the circle of light. “Believe in us, all of you, for at the moment we are all that you have left to believe in.”
No-one spoke for many minutes. Zared rested his face in his hands, Leagh holding his shoulders, trying to give him some comfort.
Zared’s misery was mirrored by most of his commanders. They could comprehend none of this, and yet they believed and trusted these two women without exception.
“Where do you go now?” Zared finally asked of Faraday and Zenith, raising his head from his hands.
“Us?” Faraday said. “Why, we go to the Star Gate, of course. There is someone we have to meet there.”
69
The Fading of the Dance
StarDrifter stood in the chamber of the Star Gate and mourned. He leaned against one of the carved pillars, one wing wrapped about it for support, and grieved for the fading of the Dance. His whole life had been lived to its beat, all his laughter attuned to its merriment, his entire purpose bent to its tune.
Now, slowly, surely, inevitably, it faded.
He did not look into the Star Gate itself, because he knew what he would see.
Swirling bleakness, consuming their vision of the universe.
Black doom, streaked with shrieks of lightning that was itself blighted and cancerous.
Demonic voices, laughing at the dwindling of the Star Dance.
Whispers.
We’re coming for you, WolfStar.
He looked across the chamber. WolfStar stood there, just beyond the huddled Circle of the Star Gods. His face was grey, his breath too rapid for calmness.
We’re coming for you, WolfStar.
And the worst thing of it was that their coming was inevitable.
/> StarDrifter looked back to the wards above the Star Gate. How bright and powerful they had once seemed! Now the wards were fading and warping. Greyness slunk over them, a reflection of the blackness seeping closer through the stars, but also a reflection of the fading powers of the Enchanters and Star Gods.
StarDrifter had never imagined what it would feel like to be…human. No power of any sort. No joy in touching with the Star Dance. But StarDrifter had a truly dreadful feeling that he would know exactly what it was like all too shortly.
A human with wings. That is all he would be.
StarDrifter lowered his head and wept.
We won’t be able to stay here, thought WolfStar. He was wrapped in misery at the loss of both the Star music and the death of the woman he loved.
How could Zenith have done that?
We won’t be able to stay, he thought. He wouldn’t be able to stay. Too dangerous – the children, StarLaughter (and, by the Stars! what kind of revenge would she seek?), the Demons. He knew he must run far and fast if he was to have any hope. If Niah was to have any hope.
But for now, he thought, I shall just stand and witness the final hours of Icarii Enchantment.
It deserves that honour, at least.
Zared, Leagh and the commanders farewelled Faraday and Zenith as starlight faded into daylight.
The two women had left the pair of white donkeys tied to a gorse bush beyond camp. Now they untied them, climbed into the small blue cart, and waved as the donkeys cheerfully trundled their way east towards the distant dark line of Minstrelsea and the Barrows.
“Those donkeys,” Herme murmured. “It couldn’t be. It couldn’t!” He shook his head. It just couldn’t.
“Herme?”
Zared’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Yes, sire?”
“Caelum has ordered the pull-out. So mount up the men and, as soon as the order is given to ride out, do so. I will ride back to Caelum, try to persuade him. Herme, once you see that I have reached him, give the order for the men to turn their horses due south. And ride. I want you within the Silent Woman Woods by afternoon.”
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