There was silence, then Axis spoke again.
“Sooner or later we will to have to ride into that icy hell above the Western Ranges,” he said. “And I fear that there will be no glorious battle at the end of this march.”
Especially if I cannot find the skills and the courage to wield enough of the Star Dance to use effective Songs of War, he thought, black despair threatening to overwhelm him.
“Eleven days ago, amid shouts of rejoicing, I proclaimed Tencendor. Ten days ago I married the woman I love more than life itself. But this has been a false summer, I think. Have we all celebrated too fast? Has darkness merely bided its time, waiting to catch us off guard?”
All that afternoon Azhure attended to her duties as Guardian of the East. Hers was a special responsibility, that of making sure that the integration of three races, three cultures, and three religions went smoothly and with the least rancour possible. It was a challenge that Azhure relished; she had spent time among all three races—Acharites (as the humans were still known), Avar and Icarii. Although the Avar still had not moved from their forest homelands, and probably would not until Faraday had planted the forest below the Fortress Ranges, Azhure had more than enough to do with the influx of Icarii into the southern lands of Tencendor. She was impatient with the paperwork that the scribes continually thrust her way; Azhure liked to hear a problem from all sides before making a decision that was best for the parties involved. She had got very used to the despairing cry of the scribes and administrators—”But it’s never been done that way before!”—to which she always replied, with as much graciousness as she could, “Well, it’s the way it’s going to be done now.”
In the early evening, Azhure wandered back to the royal apartments along the busy corridors of the palace. She hoped that Axis would soon return from his consultations with Belial and Magariz over preparations for their eventual march north. She needed to speak with him about what she had learned this afternoon and did not want to leave it for later that night as she was now so tired that she longed only for a simple meal and her bed.
Axis was still deeply worried about her health and, though they never spoke of it, both were extremely concerned over her continuing lack of control over her power. The morning after StarDrifter and Axis had tried to teach Azhure the Song for Drying Clothes, Carlon had awakened to a minor miracle.
The contents of every single laundry hamper in the city had been mysteriously emptied overnight, laundered, folded and stored.
There could be no explanation except that, somehow, Azhure had unconsciously used her power as she slept. She had no knowledge of how she had done it, and had become tearful when Axis had pressed her, and the matter of the clean clothes had been quietly dropped. But Azhure could feel Axis’ and StarDrifter’s eyes on her occasionally, wondering. Wondering what? she thought. Wondering what might have happened if it had been a less innocuous Song? What if it had been the Song of Muddlement—would Carlon then have awoken with its population wandering the streets, dazed and disorientated?
Azhure sighed with relief when she reached the royal apartments; Axis was already there, and servants had just finished laying a meal for them on a low table in the Jade Chamber.
As they ate, Azhure occasionally stole a glance at Axis, noting the lines of worry on his face. Some of them she knew were for her, but most were for the desperate situation faced by the troops currently at Jervois Landing. Axis worried for each soldier under his command; every time a man died Axis fretted. Could he have prevented it? Was the man’s death the result of a bad decision on his part? Belial had told her of Axis’ deep guilt after the loss of three hundred men at the Ancient Barrows when Gorgrael had rained down his cruel ice spears on them, and his even worse guilt after the disastrous loss of life in the battle for Gorkentown. Since she had been with him, Azhure had seen much the same thing. Stars knows how he must be berating himself inside for not foreseeing the probable slaughter at Jervois Landing.
“Why do you smile?” Axis asked as he peeled back the purple skin of a juicy malayam fruit.
“I was thinking on the dismay of the scribes and recorders this afternoon. I do not, it seems, do things in the right order, at the right time, or use the correct bureaucratic procedure.”
To her relief Axis laughed, his whole face lightening. “Then you are doing well, beloved, if you have already annoyed the bureaucrats.”
They smiled at each other, then Azhure’s expression became serious. “Axis. There is a matter that I ought to discuss with you. Do you mind?”
“Never fear to talk with me, Azhure. We have wasted months of our lives because we did not talk truthfully to each other.”
“It is only a mundane matter, perhaps,” she said, “but it needs to be aired. Dru-Beorh came to me this afternoon with some disturbing news.” She paused. “He has seen both Moryson and Gilbert in his travels between here and Nor.”
Axis grimaced. He should have known that their names would re-emerge.
“They were both alone at the time he saw them, Moryson wandering south through the Plains of Tare, Gilbert travelling east through northern Nor. I thanked him for the information and said I would think further on it. Axis, Faraday was heading east when she left here. I cannot but think that perhaps she may encounter one of them.”
Axis returned his eyes to the remains of the malayam fruit. After a moment he gave up all pretence at eating it and wiped his fingers on a napkin.
“I would give much to have those two locked securely in the palace dungeons, Azhure. Together with Jayme, they were directly responsible for many of the injustices that the Seneschal perpetuated. And that I helped perpetuate.” Another guilt.
They both turned their minds to Jayme, and they shared their thoughts regarding his strange death. No-one had been able to explain it, and while Axis had been pleased to see that Jayme had died in a manner befitting his crimes, he was unhappy that Jayme had escaped his trial. The guard had heard or seen nothing, and both Axis and Azhure could not help but feel that some dark enchantment had been at work in Jayme’s death.
“Faraday?” Azhure prompted. “Do you think Faraday is in any danger? It is not only Gilbert and Moryson who concern me—there must be a number of Plough-Keepers wandering eastern Tencendor. They can be nothing but trouble.”
Axis sipped some wine thoughtfully. He’d not had time to deal with the problem of the Seneschal and the Way of the Plough, and undoubtedly would not for many months to come. Despite the collapse of the Seneschal and the abandoning of Artor by so many people in these days of prophecy, Axis knew that in many villages the Plough-Keepers retained considerable power.
“Faraday?” Azhure asked yet again.
He started and smiled guiltily. “Sorry. Faraday…” Stars, another guilt, and the worst of all. She was, as Belial had once told him in anger, too wondrous a woman for him to have treated the way he had. “The east is massive. I doubt they will run into each other. And Faraday can look after herself, Azhure. She is infused with the power of the Mother, and the Mother will aid her should she need it.”
“I had thought that perhaps I could send a small unit of men to protect her.”
“Would they find her? Would she welcome such company? And,” the crux of the matter, “can we spare the men?”
“No. Perhaps you are right,” Azhure said, worried nevertheless. Faraday had treated her with kindness, respect and friendship where Azhure had expected only bitterness and recrimination.
She forced her mind from Faraday for the moment. “Some Icarii are moving down from Talon Spike in small groups, Axis. Many of them are like children, so excited they know not what to see or do next.”
“I hope they are not frightening the Acharites with their excitement.”
“No. The majority still wait in Talon Spike, and RavenCrest, and I have asked that those who fly south restrain themselves. Most groups are flying to the Bracken Ranges where, so I am informed, there are ancient Icarii cities hidden under layers of dirt and
boulders. Apparently, during the Wars of the Axe, when the Seneschal was succeeding in its bid to drive the Icarii from Achar, the Icarii Enchanters hid their cities in the Bracken Ranges with enchantments and, so they tell me, just a little dirt. Most of the Icarii efforts thus far have gone into dusting both enchantments and dirt from their ancient homes.”
Axis smiled briefly, his eyes whimsical. “I would like to see these cities one day, but I do not know when. Not with the threat that seeps down from the north.”
For some minutes Axis described the preparations that engulfed much of Carlon in getting some thirty-thousand men-at-arms ready for a march north. He had only succeeded in sending a fraction of his command north before the Nordra froze over. And for that, he thought grimly, I suppose I ought to be grateful. Better to have the majority here in Carlon where they will survive Gorgrael’s inevitable attack on Jervois Landing.
“I wish,” he concluded softly, taking her hand, “that you could travel north with me. And yet I am relieved that your pregnancy will force you to remain behind. At least something will be saved if disaster engulfs us in the north.”
If disaster engulfs you in the north, my love, Azhure thought, I will have no reason left to live.
Azhure wished she could fight by Axis’ side, but she knew that her physical state, while not desperate, was still sufficiently weak to cause concern. Each advancing day her unborn twins sapped more of her energy; Azhure had longed for Caelum to be born so that she could hold her wondrous son in her arms, but she longed for these twins to be born just so she could be freed of their encumbrance.
Axis watched her easy acceptance of his words with disquiet. The Azhure he had known would have fought bitterly to be allowed to ride at his side, pregnant or not. It was an indication of how deeply unwell she was that Azhure so meekly accepted the fact she would have to remain behind.
But Azhure had no intention of staying behind permanently. “Once they are born I will come,” she said, squeezing his hand. “The birth is only three months away at the most. Then I will be free to join you.”
If there is anything left to join, Axis thought to himself. If you still have a husband to join.
7
TIMOZEL PLANS
Ever since Gorgrael had told him about his success with the Gryphon, the Dear Man had disappeared. Gorgrael supposed that perhaps he was slightly miffed at Gorgrael’s achievements. But it did not matter, for now he had Timozel to talk to, and Timozel was such good company, not only because of his intelligence, but because he was totally under the Destroyer’s control.
Today was the last day that Timozel would spend at the Ice Fortress before he joined the bulk of the Skraeling army north of Jervois Landing. He had already begun to mould the Skraelings, relaying orders and receiving information through the SkraeBolds and the Gryphon. Gorgrael hiccupped with pleasure when he remembered how SkraeFear and his two remaining brothers had sulked and brooded when introduced to Timozel, deeply resenting the loss of their favoured spot at Gorgrael’s side. But Gorgrael had taught Timozel how best to use his well of power, and Timozel had brooked no resentment nor resistance from the SkraeBolds; all three now wore the welts to remind them that it was not a good idea to cross Timozel.
Gorgrael looked fondly across the crazily canted table at his able lieutenant.
“What is it you plan, Timozel? How will you work my will?”
Timozel did not look up from the map he held straight with only the most extreme difficulty; damn Gorgrael’s preference for ridiculous angles and planes in his furniture! “I will work your will to the best of my ability, Lord.”
“Yes, yes.” Gorgrael shifted impatiently. “But what is it you plan?”
Timozel tapped the map. “From the reports your Gryphon have brought me, the force at Jervois Landing remains relatively small. The freezing of the Nordra has effectively stopped Axis sending any more troop transports north.” He paused. “I know Jervois Landing well. Now that the canals have been frozen as solid as the Nordra the town’s defences are virtually nil. I shall overwhelm and crush Jervois Landing with little trouble.”
“You won’t attack through the WildDog Plains?”
“No.” Both Timozel and Gorgrael were very reluctant, not only to split their force for a two-pronged attack through both Jervois Landing and the WildDog Plains, but to expose a Skraeling force to the powerful magic of Sigholt on the one flank and the Avarinheim on the other. Since he had been with Gorgrael, Timozel had learned a great deal about the magic of the land he and his master planned to invade. “No. We attack with full force at Jervois Landing. They won’t even have time for final prayers before dying.”
“And then you overrun Aldeni and Skarabost?” Gorgrael asked.
Timozel lifted his eyes from the map, and Gorgrael stilled at the cold light in them. “No.”
Gorgrael was puzzled. “Well, straight to Carlon then. There is much beauty to destroy there.”
The coldness deepened in Timozel’s eyes. “No.”
“Well, then, what?”
“Our main objective must be to destroy Axis’ army. I have a better plan. Listen.”
Gorgrael listened…and liked. It was a good plan, but better than that, it was a tricky plan. Timozel would do well, yes, indeed he would.
8
SPIREDORE
On the fourth day after she and Axis had discussed Faraday’s safety, Azhure finally found herself with enough energy and free time to visit Spiredore. She had not been back to the tower across the Grail Lake since that dreadful morning when the Gryphon had attacked her and Caelum on its roof. But Azhure knew she would have to go back. She needed to speak to WolfStar, and she hoped he would appear to her in Spiredore again as he had two weeks ago. She also hoped she could learn more about the magic of Spiredore.
Azhure had been amazed to discover that Axis and StarDrifter, as every other Icarii Enchanter who entered the tower between the time it was reawoken and the time it was given to her, only saw a hollow shell with a plain staircase creeping about its walls to the roof. No-one else had seen the crazy assemblage of balconies and intertwining stairs that she and Caelum had seen. Does Spiredore choose who will see its secrets? Azhure wondered as she sat in the bow of the small boat that Arne rowed for her.
“My Lady, are you well enough for this expedition?” Arne asked, barely out of breath despite his efforts. He was not sure if Axis knew what Azhure was doing and wondered if he should have told him. But Azhure was a grown woman and did not need Axis’ permission for her actions. Arne’s only real doubt was that Azhure looked so pale and thin despite her pregnancy that she might fall and injure herself inside the tower.
“I am well enough,” Azhure said, her irritation at the question stilled by the genuine concern she knew lay behind it. “And besides, you do all the work.”
“But you will be alone within the tower, my Lady.”
Azhure bent down to pat the head of the great pale hound that rested in the belly of the boat. “I have Sicarius to watch over me, Arne. Should I suffer any mishap he will fetch help.”
Arne nodded, satisfied.
When they docked at the small pier by Spiredore, Arne helped Azhure disembark. Then he sat to wait, watching as the white door closed behind Azhure and her hound.
The interior was exactly as Azhure remembered it. Now that sunlight suffused the atrium from windows set high overhead, she could see every detail of the stairwells and balconies that swirled to dizzying heights above her. Rooms, chambers, open spaces, all opened off balconies none of which were level with their neighbours. Again Azhure was struck by the beauty created by this chaos; she was sure there were secrets and mysteries within the rooms and stairwells that spiralled above her. Spiredore was alive with magic, and it was hers to discover as she willed.
For almost an hour Azhure wandered the ground-floor rooms, unwilling to climb any of the stairs lest she become lost and disorientated. She had expected that once she was inside the tower WolfStar would appear as
quickly and as mysteriously as he had that last time—but the rooms remained stubbornly empty and the stairwells disappointingly silent.
Finally, tired and dispirited, Azhure sank down onto the bare floor of one of the chambers.
Sicarius whined and pressed his head into her hands.
“Well, my fine fellow,” Azhure said as she scratched the hound behind the ears. “Did WolfStar ever bring you here? Do you know how to find your former master?”
But the Alaunt remained as obstinately silent as Spiredore itself and Azhure sighed. Perhaps she should have brought Caelum. Perhaps the only reason WolfStar had come to her before was to see his grandson. But even as she thought this, Azhure realised WolfStar’s interest in Caelum that night had been only tangential; his real focus had been her.
Azhure shifted her weight, uncomfortable on the hard floor, and thought that the answer must lie within her somewhere. Hadn’t WolfStar told her that the tower had been built just for her? Well, here the tower stood, but the builders had forgotten to give her the key.
“Stop it, woman!” she said to herself, annoyed at her negative thoughts. WolfStar had also told her how to use this tower, hadn’t he? Her brow creased as she tried to remember his exact words. So much had happened since that meeting to crowd out the memory of her conversation with him…so much…but just as Azhure thought she had indeed lost the memory forever WolfStar’s words suddenly echoed around the chamber.
It is very simple. If you wander willy-nilly in Spiredore you will, as you thought, get completely lost. You must decide where you want to go before you start to climb the stairs, and then the stairs will take you to that place.
“Of course!” Azhure laughed, and struggled to her feet. “Of course! Thank you!” She patted the wall she had been resting against, then she walked as fast as she could back to the atrium and stared at the nearest staircase. Before she tested WolfStar’s advice she leaned down to the hound. “Sicarius, should I become lost or disorientated in the stairs and chambers above, do you think you can understand enough of the magic of Spiredore to see me safely back to the door?”
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