The mood was sombre that night and the meal eaten in silence in most of the campsites. Axis sat hunched with his senior commanders about an inadequate fire of brush. His mood had bleakened with each day that they rode north until, as now, he was mostly surrounded by silence.
Somewhere out there in the frozen wastes was a massive army—at least ten times the size of his own—and Axis did not know how he would defeat it even if he could find it.
He sighed. Gorgrael had the initiative, and if Axis could not seize it back, if he could not find the power to defeat this writhing mass of Skraelings to his north (or were they east? Or west? Or, Stars forbid, south?) then they were all dead.
At least Azhure would be safe. She must be on her way south to the Island of Mist and Memory by now, Axis thought. Azhure and Caelum. If anything must be saved, they must be. Even if he died, then they could, eventually, fight back.
But for what? For what?
He started, realising that Ho’Demi had spoken.
“I am sorry, Ho’Demi, my thoughts were elsewhere,” Axis said. “You were saying?”
The Ravensbund Chief put down his tin mug. “I can send bands of my Ravensbund warriors north, StarMan. The farflight scouts, while useful,” Ho’Demi inclined his head at FarSight but the birdman still glowered at the ‘useful’, “are vulnerable to the Gryphon and dare not range too far north lest they be attacked. The Ravensbundmen revel in these conditions—we are born to them. The snow was our nursemaid as mewling infants and our lover as men. We can use it and manipulate it and the Gryphon will never spot us. Small groups of us can penetrate far north with minimal risk. Use us.”
“You would go with them, Ho’Demi?” Axis said. He did not want to risk Ho’Demi. “You could not counter the Skraelings when they invaded the Ravensbund.”
“I only suggest scouts, StarMan, not raiding parties. I leave that to you. And…yes, I would go with them. I hunger for action against these creatures that have stolen my homeland from me.”
“How soon can you organise the scouting parties?”
“By morning, StarMan. Where would you have us go?”
Axis looked to Belial and Magariz. “Your advice, my friends?”
“Damn it, Axis,” Magariz said. “Where could they have gone?”
“Skarabost?” Belial suggested.
Axis shook his head, catching FarSight’s eye. “No, Belial. Skarabost remains free from Skraelings, although much of it lies under a killing frost.”
“Then could they have outflanked us and moved south…to Carlon?”
Magariz flinched at Belial’s words. Rivkah was in Carlon, but then so was Cazna, and Magariz knew Belial would be as worried about his wife as Magariz was about his.
Axis shivered and blew on his hands in a vain attempt to warm them. “We would have known if they had outflanked us. We have scouts and sentries throughout the Western Ranges and so many Icarii now throng the Bracken Ranges that they would sound the alarm if the Skraelings had struck that far west.”
“Axis, we should have some reports of the Skraelings. Thousands of peasants fled south before the ice while they still could. Has nothing useful come from them?”
But Magariz was only speaking empty words, and he knew it. All the peasants who had managed to flee Aldeni before the wind and frost became too lethal had reported Skraelings on every breath of wind, in every puff of snow. If Axis believed everything the fleeing peasants reported, then the Skraelings should have sunk Aldeni into the Andeis Sea by now through sheer weight of numbers.
Belial cursed at the silence about the campfire. “They must be in Aldeni.”
“And if they are, then we will find them,” Ho’Demi finished softly. “If they have dug themselves into pits in the snow then the Ravensbund will find them. I will find them!”
Axis looked up from the flames. “Pray do, Ho’Demi,” he said, “before they find us.”
Deep in the shafts dim torches glowed, and in the glow teeth and talons crowded.
The SkraeBolds hunched, miserable.
But Timozel was pleased. It was time to call most of the Gryphon in, for there was no further need of them…yet. They had kept the Icarii farflight scouts away from his position, and that was all they had to do for the moment.
But he would keep a few in the northern skies.
Axis would expect that.
16
THE ISLAND OF MIST AND MEMORY
Azhure eased back in the chair sailors had placed on deck for her and wondered if she would ever be comfortable again. Barely seven months pregnant and all she could do was wonder at what point it was that the twins could survive without her—no doubt the twins wondered the same thing. Even now they stirred restlessly, the heels of their feet drumming against the walls of her womb, as if they dreamed of freedom…or hungered for escape.
She rolled her head to one side and looked at StarDrifter standing tense and excited in the prow of the ship, his wings bunched behind him as if he yearned for flight. They had been sailing the choppy waters of the Sea of Tyrre for two days now, and surely could not be far from their destination. If he wanted StarDrifter could take to the skies and be on the Island before nightfall, but he had said he would stay with her, and this he did.
They had sailed from Carlon four days ago in one of Ysgryff’s private ships, the Seal Hope. Azhure had never been to sea before, and if she had not been so unwell she knew she would have found the experience exhilarating. The Seal Hope was commodious and comfortable, did not roll overmuch in the waves, and a warm and salty and infinitely comforting breeze blew from the south-west to fill the dusky pink sails. With Azhure came a goodly assortment of court officials and servants, a Wing of the Strike Force, Prince Ysgryff, and Caelum, currently in the care of his nurse, Imibe, below decks.
And, of course, the fifteen Alaunt, who lolled about on the deck and snapped at the waves when they dared splash too close.
Sometimes Azhure found herself listening to the rhythmic slap of waves against the ship and, lulled half to sleep, dreaming of strange shores of rippling sands and rocky beaches.
Rivkah stayed behind in Carlon, serving as the royal presence, although Azhure continued to attend most matters of administration in morning and evening sessions held in the Seal Hope’s main cabin. Icarii messengers brought what she needed in the way of documents and information from the mainland.
Stars, she now thought in some exasperation, I cannot wait to discover what I can on the Isle of Mist and Memory, drop these babies, and rejoin Axis as soon as possible. Although she could feel a faint pull at her soul with each breath that Axis took—perhaps a reverberation through the Star Dance—Azhure had heard very little from him in the past month. Reports drifted down haphazardly, and all they reported was that Axis led his army north, north, north. Azhure supposed Axis must be well into the province by now, and a shiver of fear passed through her. Live, Axis! Live! Believe in yourself enough to live for me!
StarDrifter turned from the bow and strode back to where Azhure and Ysgryff sat under a canvas canopy.
“Ysgryff. How much further?”
Ysgryff restrained a smile. “We cannot be far, StarDrifter. Really, why don’t you leave us earth-bound creatures and wing your way there?”
StarDrifter glanced at Azhure. “No. No, Ysgryff, I will stay with Azhure. I promised Axis.”
Azhure narrowed her eyes. Exactly what had he promised Axis? StarDrifter had behaved with perfect decorum since Axis had departed. Azhure knew it must have been hard for him, for he now spent many hours with her each day, either singing gently to the babies within her or to Caelum. Yet not once had she felt his touch or his eyes to hold anything but restraint, not once had his manners and conversation descended from the heights of good manners and civility.
It was not like StarDrifter at all. Not given the depths of his desires. Azhure wondered if it was her pregnancy that kept StarDrifter at a distance. Maybe, once she was unencumbered of Axis’ children…
The s
oft beat of wings broke her thoughts and she sat up in her chair as an Icarii scout landed gently on the deck.
He bowed to Azhure. “Enchantress, there is an Icarii approaching from the south.”
“From the Island!” StarDrifter said. “Who? Did you see who it was?”
The scout shook his head. “No, StarDrifter. The Icarii is still too far away.”
“Thank you,” Azhure said, inclining her head, then smiled at StarDrifter as the scout lifted off. “Peace, StarDrifter. We will find out soon enough.”
But even Azhure could not keep her excitement down, and after a few minutes she struggled to stand up, finally taking StarDrifter’s hand and letting him pull her to her feet.
“Is it…?” she began, leaning on the railing and straining her eyes to the southern skies where she could just see a black shape emerging from the haze. “Do you think it might be…?”
“FreeFall!” StarDrifter shouted and, unable to restrain himself any longer, launched into the air.
Within minutes, FreeFall and StarDrifter had alighted on the deck, the two embracing fiercely before FreeFall turned to Azhure.
“Azhure!” he laughed, hugging her briefly. “You are enormous! Do you carry the entire Icarii nation within you?”
“Sometimes it feels like it.” Azhure grinned. “Are you well?”
“Ah, Azhure.” Wonderment infused FreeFall’s face, softening his violet eyes so that they seemed as blue as the surrounding sea. “I cannot tell you how well! I have seen wonders and mysteries before now, but never such mysteries as I have found on the Island of Mist and Memory.”
Azhure stared at him. For a man who had died and who had walked the rivers of death before resuming life in the form of an eagle, the mysteries of the Island must be wondrous indeed to captivate him so.
“And EvenSong?” she asked.
“She is even better than I, except daily her temper has grown worse with her impatience to see you again.”
StarDrifter shifted restlessly. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me.”
FreeFall glanced at his uncle. “The mysteries of the island will wait another few hours. Words will not describe what should be seen for one’s self. Look…” He put his arm about what was left of Azhure’s waist and turned her to gaze over the railing. “Look.”
Faint, so faint Azhure thought it was her imagination, a grey-green line smudged the distant horizon.
“The Island of Mist and Memory,” FreeFall said.
For a thousand years the Island of Mist and Memory had been known to the Acharites as Pirates’ Nest. For a thousand years the pirates had sallied forth from their island fortress to raid, plunder and burn, and the Barons of Nor, whose task it was to eradicate the pirates from the Sea of Tyrre, had wrung their hands and claimed that the pirates were too vicious and too numerous to do anything about. For a thousand years Pirates’ Nest had held onto its secrets, and both pirates and Barons of Nor had cooperated in keeping it that way.
Now the Icarii were returning to claim their island, to worship in the Temple of the Stars and to revere and honour the other, more sacred and far more secret, sites of the island.
But the Island of Mist and Memory held even more secrets than the Icarii counted on.
The Seal Hope put into the northern port of Pirates’ Town so late in the afternoon that the decision was taken to spend the night in the town before travelling to the Temple complex in the morning.
Azhure had been aghast at the size of the island. She had vaguely expected it to be small, a few houses for the pirates, a few more for the priestesses of the Order of the Stars, and the Temple itself, but as they had sailed towards it she saw that it was massive.
“It stretches for ten leagues north to south,” FreeFall said softly, moving to her side as the Seal Hope docked, “and six east to west. See that peak rising to the south?”
Azhure nodded. The entire island sloped towards the mountain.
“It is called Temple Mount, and it rises almost three thousand paces from the sea. On its plateau rests the complex of the Temple of the Stars.”
“My mother lived there,” Azhure whispered, “and that is where I was conceived.”
“Yes,” FreeFall said, “that is where you were conceived, Azhure.”
Azhure turned to him. “Have you told the priestesses I am coming? Have you told them who I am?”
FreeFall hesitated. “No. No, I have not. I thought that was for you to do.”
“What do the priestesses know, FreeFall?” StarDrifter asked.
“They know only that the Prophecy walks, that the StarMan has reclaimed Tencendor, and that the Icarii will shortly return to relight the Temple of the Stars. EvenSong and I have not told them much, and they have not asked questions. They have waited for a thousand years, and no doubt feel a few more days or weeks will not kill them.”
“StarDrifter,” Azhure said, “there is no need for you to stay with me tonight. Ysgryff is here, and numerous servants. We will travel to Temple Mount in the morning. You could fly there tonight with FreeFall.”
“No.” Curiously, StarDrifter seemed to have lost all his impatience now. “No, Azhure. I promised Axis that I would look after you. We will all reach Temple Mount soon enough.”
The port of Pirates’ Town was situated in a narrow harbour that penetrated deep into the northern shoreline of the island. Over fifteen-thousand pirates, their wives, children and numerous cats, dogs and chickens lived crammed into the town; the harbour was crowded with every type of sailing ship imaginable, some built from the forested slopes of the island, some purloined from distant seas and harbours.
The people seemed friendly enough, although their wild eyes, bright scarves and bristling daggers made Azhure hold Caelum close, and many smiled and waved at Ysgryff as he strode through the streets. The Baron found them comfortable accommodation in an inn close to the port, made certain Azhure was settled, then made arrangements for their journey to Temple Mount in the morning.
That night Azhure tossed restlessly, disturbed and irritated by the slightest noise or movement of her babies. Not a sound came from StarDrifter’s chamber next to hers in the inn, and she wondered that the Enchanter could sleep this soundly when he was so close to the mysterious Temple of the Stars that he had hungered after for so long.
Finally she fell into an uneasy slumber just as dawn stained the eastern sky, and as she did, she dreamed.
She stood in darkness, surrounded by the slap of waves and suspicious voices and prodding fingers.
“Is this her?”
“It must be—can you not feel the tug of her blood against the shoreline?”
“Her? Truly?”
She moved to one side, away from the prods and the queries, but only met more.
“How can we know it is her?”
The voices sounded angry, disturbed, and she was frightened.
“It would be too dangerous to make a mistake. Too dangerous now”.
“Are you dangerous, unknown woman?”
Her hand flew to her throat where a finger had poked painfully and those about her gasped.
“She wears the Circle!”
“She does!”
“What is your name, Circle-wearer?”
“Did you steal it?”
She turned around in the darkness, trying to see. “My name is Azhure. And no, the ring was given to me”.
“Azhure!”
“Oh, the name!”
“Azhure!”
“Azhure!”
Her eyes flew open to meet StarDrifter’s smiling face.
“Wake up, lovely lady. It is morning and the Temple awaits. Wake up.”
“StarDrifter?” Azhure sat up, her eyes bleary with lack of sleep.
“I have called for Imibe to help you dress. What is that?” His fingers traced lazily down her throat. “You have pinched yourself in your sleep, I think. A small bruise, it is nothing. Now, here is Imibe.”
Although they started early in the morning, the
trek to Temple Mount took most of the day. Most travelled in Ysgryff’s hired horses and wagons, but FreeFall left by wing, saying he would warn the priestesses of arriving company but give no details.
This day the island lived up to its name. Soft mist clung to every building and corner and none could see more than a few paces in front of them.
“It is like this much of the time,” Ysgryff said, twisting around from the bench where he sat with the wagon’s driver. “Yesterday’s clarity was the exception. When seen from the sea the island looks like drifting cloud, nothing else. Most sailors tend to stay well clear of it, not only because of the pirates, but because they say creatures of long-forgotten memory lurk within the depths of the mist.”
Azhure shuddered and pulled her wrap closer. If she had not seen the island under the kind light of the sun she was sure she too would have been more than a little unnerved by this mist. Even sound faltered and died within a few paces; the bustle of the town was muted, while passing pedestrians were only ghostly shapes, more imagined than real.
“And Temple Mount?” she asked.
It was StarDrifter who answered, his eyes staring ahead into the mist. “Temple Mount is always in the light, Azhure. The mist might cling to its skirts, but the plateau is so high it remains open to both sun and stars.”
“You speak as if you have seen it yourself, StarDrifter.” Ysgryff’s voice was amused.
“The Icarii have never forgotten the Temple of the Stars, Ysgryff. Never.” His own voice was flat and expressionless, and after a moment Ysgryff turned back to converse in low tones with the driver.
The road rose as the last hunched shapes of the town’s buildings disappeared behind them. For the entire morning they climbed steadily, the road twisting and turning as the gradient became steeper. At noon they stopped for a meal and to water the horses, but they were off again quickly, for Ysgryff said there was still a way to go.
“The last section we will have to accomplish on foot,” he grunted, lifting Azhure back into the wagon, and StarDrifter shot him an anxious glance.
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