On the fourth day of the first week of Snow-month she slowly paced the parapets of the walls of Gorkenfort, wearing a heavy cloak hugged tight over her black silk gown, the hood drawn far over her face as she gazed over the town of Gorkentown towards the road that led south. She never admitted what she was looking for walking along the parapets. Whenever anyone asked, she simply said that she was whiling away the lonely hours while Borneheld was otherwise occupied. Today Timozel walked by her side, although Borneheld increasingly gave him responsibilities about the fort. Pity, Faraday idly thought as she nodded at one of the watch, that Timozel’s duties did not also extend to taking her place in Borneheld’s bed. Her mouth curled in a private grin at the thought. Today Yr had also joined them for the fresh air, and Faraday glanced at the Sentinel, wondering if she’d caught her thought. It appeared she had. Yr was biting the inside of her cheek to keep her mirth in check, deliberately avoiding Faraday’s eye.
The day was bitingly cold but relatively clear, for the past two days the snow clouds had held back, and it was Yr’s sharp eyes that spotted them first. She stepped close to Faraday’s side.
“Look,” she said quietly, pointing towards a faint smudge on the southern road. “Can you see them?”
Faraday’s heart leapt into her mouth and she strained to see. “Where?” she said breathlessly. “Where? I can’t see them. Is it him?”
“Yes, sweet child, it is him. Are you ready?”
Her question might have had a number of meanings, but Faraday knew exactly what she meant. Could she restrain Borneheld if it came to it? “If I am not then we will soon know, Yr,” she said shortly.
“What is it?” Timozel asked impatiently, irritated by the way the two women whispered together. “What can you see?”
“The Axe-Wielders ride for Gorkenfort, Timozel,” said Yr, turning her face towards him. For the past week or so she had taken to twisting her long blonde hair into a loose knot on the crown of her head, leaving tendrils to float about her face like a shifting golden cloud. Since their arrival at Gorkenfort they had resumed their affair, and it pleased Timozel that Yr chose his company before that of Gautier’s. “Are you ready to meet your BattleAxe, Timozel?”
“Not my BattleAxe any longer,” Timozel replied. “My Lady has chosen to marry Duke Borneheld, the most powerful WarLord Achar has ever had. I serve Borneheld now.”
Faraday’s mouth twisted grimly. As she betrayed Axis, so too did Timozel. How could she blame him for that?
“Besides,” Timozel added after a moment, thinking back on the moment in the tomb of the Icarii Enchanter-Talon, “Will not Borneheld be the one to save us from Gorgrael the Destroyer?”
Faraday’s hands gripped the stone compulsively. She remembered that both Jack and Yr had been deliberately ambiguous when Timozel asked if Borneheld had been the one to save Achar. No-one had known that the next instant he would be on his knees pledging his oath of Championship to Faraday. Oh what a pit we dig for ourselves, Faraday thought, with the shovel of our lies.
“Who knows who he is,” said Faraday, reaching out for Timozel’s hand. “Come, let us watch for the Axe-Wielders.”
The Axe-Wielders took another hour to wend their way towards the gate of the town, and then through the town itself. Most of them stopped in the town square to organise billeting and food for themselves and their horses, but soon the Axemen who were left to ride for the fort were close enough for Faraday to make out individual faces. There was Belial, looking thinner but more relaxed than she remembered. Behind him rode Arne, a man Faraday hardly knew.
“Yr,” she said, pointing with her hand.
“Yes,” Yr smiled. “They are still with him.” Ogden and Veremund rode huddled into cloaks that billowed about their white donkeys. Yr was delighted to see her companions; she could barely wait to find out how they were doing with Axis, if they had seen Jack, if they had found the fifth Sentinel, if Gorgrael had struck again.
And then Axis rode into sight from behind a corner of the twisting streets. He was chatting with one of the Axe-Wielders who had lagged behind, and Faraday, hands clutched to her breast, thought her heart would seize at the sight of him. Did he mourn me? she wondered. Or did he shrug his shoulders at the pile of dirt that covered my grave and turn to joke with Belial?
Yr slipped her arm about the girl’s waist again and whispered in her ear. “Doubtless you have both grown different ways since you last saw each other, Faraday, but if he said that he loved you, then do not doubt it.”
Faraday watched Axis’ black-clad form far below her as he rode towards the fort’s gate.
Mother help me, but I love him, she thought.
I know, sweet child, I know, Yr replied, and Faraday did not wonder that she could hear Yr’s thoughts within her own head.
Belial halted the small group of Axe-Wielders before Gorkenfort’s gate, waiting for Axis to catch them up. Axis pulled Belaguez to a halt by Belial’s bay stallion, his face tight with tension. Ahead of him lay the ultimate embarrassment, admitting to Borneheld’s face that he had lost Faraday. And within minutes he would also have to surrender outright control of the Axe-Wielders to Borneheld as he had promised Jayme.
Axis had not been looking forward to this day.
“Remember, Axis, no matter what happens in Gorkenfort,” Belial said quietly, his steady gaze fixed on Axis’ face, “Our loyalty is to you and only to you. We will follow wherever you lead and fight in whatever cause you choose.”
Axis looked over at Belial. Over the past few weeks the man had been a rock, always there with advice and reassurance, always there with a smile and a joke. On the road north Axis had spent hours discussing his doubts and uncertainties with Belial; had he not been there, Axis did not know how he’d have coped with the changes in his life.
Axis did not know how much longer his loyalty to Jayme could last. Already his trust in the Brother-Leader had been seriously undermined, first by Jayme’s insistence that Borneheld assume control of the Axe-Wielders, but more recently by the things he had learned about his own origins and about the Icarii and the Avar. He had not been able to put the woman who had pleaded for Raum’s life near the forest out of his mind. “You need do only what your heart tells you to do. Not what the Seneschal has taught you must be done. Your duty should always be to do what you feel is right.” Axis took a deep breath. Did what she say make sense? Dare he trust his own heart? It certainly did not feel right to pass his Axe-Wielders over to Borneheld’s command…but who was he to complain about the WarLord assuming control of the Axe-Wielders when so many of them had died needlessly in Gorgrael’s storm?
“Axis! BattleAxe! It is good to have you here!”
Axis turned his head towards the sound. Duke Roland was striding over as fast as his fat would allow. Axis swung off Belaguez and grasped the Duke’s hand and arm. Obese the man might be but Axis believed he was one of the best commanders in the army. Like Jorge, Roland had been one of the very few nobles at court who had not sneered or condescended to Axis because of his birth. Roland nodded at Belial and peered curiously at Ogden and Veremund but turned back to Axis. He gripped the BattleAxe’s hand and forearm enthusiastically.
“Welcome, Axis. Artor be with you.”
“And with you, Duke Roland, and with you,” Axis smiled back at the man. “How go things?”
Roland shrugged. “Gorkenfort still stands, Axis. Raids have still taken their toll…no!” Roland let Axis’ hand go and raised his own in front of him defensively at the questions he could see bubbling to Axis’ lips. “No, I am not going to stand here in the wind and answer all your questions, my boy. Come inside. Borneheld and Jorge are meeting with Magariz, and they will want to hear what you have to say first. Did you discover anything at the Silent Woman Keep?”
Axis kept his face bland with a supreme effort, a thousand retorts springing instantly to mind. He waved at Ogden and Veremund. “I have brought these two elderly brothers with me, my friend. Perhaps they can help us, perhaps not.
”
Roland’s round face dropped in amazement. “They rode all the way to Gorkenfort from the Silent Woman Woods on those? What were you thinking of ? Did you have no spare horses?”
“A Brother and his donkey are hard to part,” said Axis dryly. “Come, take me to your war council. Belial? Bring those two…gentlemen with you. We are off to meet Borneheld.”
Roland put his hand confidentially on Axis’ shoulder as they walked into the fort and talked rapidly and quietly to him about the defence systems already in place about Gorkenfort. Neither noticed the cloaked woman standing on the parapets watching them.
Borneheld looked up from the papers spread about the table in front of the fire and saw Roland and Axis walk in the door at the end of the Hall followed by the BattleAxe’s lieutenant, Belial, and two ancient Brothers of the Seneschal. So. The BattleAxe had arrived. Now all would see who was the stronger, who was the more brilliant strategist, the better commander. Today he would assume control of the Axe-Wielders. Borneheld felt very sure of himself. Very powerful.
Jorge and Magariz, standing to one side of the table, exchanged anxious glances. Together with Roland, they had worried what the rivalry between Axis and Borneheld would mean to the defence of Gorkenfort. All three hoped Axis would not push Borneheld into an outright confrontation, and that Borneheld would not lose complete control and forget the defence of Gorkenfort in the pursuit of his hated half-brother. Axis and Borneheld supping together brought with it the risk of violence. What they might do in their current hostility during the dangerous stress of a military campaign was unthinkable.
“BattleAxe,” Borneheld smirked as Axis reached the table. He had been looking forward to this moment for a long, long time. Finally he would see his brother humbled before him.
“WarLord,” Axis said simply, his face expressionless. Neither man offered the other his hand.
“I received the report on your loss of the Ladies Merlion and Faraday north-east of the Silent Woman Woods, BattleAxe. I am somewhat surprised to see that you still think yourself fit to lead the Axe-Wielders.”
Magariz, Jorge and Roland all stared at Borneheld, but they held their tongues at a quick glare from their WarLord.
Axis hesitated, stung by the remark. “I have nothing to add to my report,” he said tightly.
Borneheld rested his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly. “Your incompetence appals me!” he hissed. “Two innocent women trusted you!”
Axis’ eyes narrowed. That Borneheld had every right to admonish him only made his anger more intense. Should he tell him that Faraday possibly lived? But he had no proof save the word of an Avar man, and Axis knew Borneheld well enough to know he would never accept the word of one of the Forbidden.
Roland spoke quickly, concerned that Borneheld was wasting time in pointless hostilities. “My Lord Duke. Perhaps this matter could wait until later to be discussed…in more detail.”
Borneheld spared him a quick, hard glance, but changed the subject. Time enough for Axis to discover that Faraday had not only survived, but had journeyed north to be with the man she loved. “Have you brought me my Axe-Wielders?” he asked.
Axis’ face hardened. It was all he could do to stop himself reaching across the table and throwing Borneheld into the fire. The two men stared at each other, both unwilling to be the first to drop his eyes.
Roland, Jorge and Magariz held their collective breaths, but in the end Axis felt Belial step up behind him, lending his BattleAxe his silent support.
“I stand here for the Axe-Wielders,” Axis said finally. “I put myself under your command and, through me, you command the Axe-Wielders.”
Borneheld opened his mouth. It was not what he wanted. He wanted Axis completely out of the way and himself in daily control of the Axe-Wielders. Better, Borneheld would like to have broken the Axe-Wielders up completely and spread the individual men among his own units and cohorts, shattering the spirit and legend of the Axe-Wielders with one clean stroke. But Jorge stepped forward and spoke first. He knew exactly what Borneheld wanted to do and he also knew that Axis was unlikely to placidly stand by and watch his command destroyed before his eyes.
“We are all grateful for your support here, BattleAxe,” he said smoothly, “and that you should so willingly put yourself under Borneheld’s command. Through you the Axe-Wielders will be a useful adjunct to the WarLord’s brilliance.”
It was a masterstroke. Jorge had not only complimented Borneheld and pandered to his vanity, but had also put Borneheld in the difficult situation of appearing churlish if he now insisted on a complete surrender of the Axe-Wielders to his personal command. Borneheld gaped a little, unsure of how to take Jorge’s intervention, and before he could decide how to react Roland followed Jorge’s lead.
“We have all placed ourselves and our men under Borneheld’s command,” he said jovially to no-one in particular. “Through all of us the WarLord controls an entire army but does not waste his time on the daily mundane activities of keeping thousands of men fed, watered and exercised. We are all grateful for his foresight in insisting we act as the conduits through which his commands pass to our own men. And to think of it,” he turned and beamed at Borneheld, “the Duke Ichtar will be the first WarLord to command the Axe-Wielders.”
Borneheld closed his mouth and thought about it. Yes, Jorge and Roland made sense. He didn’t want to waste time worrying about which dullard groomed the horses. Better that lesser men, men like Axis, do that. Besides, as Roland had said, he would be the first man outside the Seneschal to command the Axe-Wielders.
“Yes,” he nodded, “I accept the surrender of your command, BattleAxe. You may remain in daily control of the Axe-Wielders and I shall use you to relay my wishes to them.”
Don’t fight it, Axis, Belial thought desperately, keeping a pleasant expression on his face. Don’t fight it. Be grateful to these two old men that you’ve retained as much control as you have.
To tell the truth, Axis was mildly amused by the way Jorge and Roland had flattered and manipulated Borneheld. “As you please, WarLord,” he said neutrally, bowing slightly in Borneheld’s general direction. “I accede to your wishes.”
Borneheld smiled in complete satisfaction. For the first time since Jayme had appointed Axis BattleAxe, Borneheld felt as though he had firmly established his own superiority. “Well, BattleAxe. What have you learned at the Silent Woman Keep to help us drive back these wraiths and icemen that nibble at our flanks?” He sat down in a high-backed wooden chair and waved at the other men in the room to pull stools up to the table. Borneheld was feeling generous.
Ogden and Veremund, until now quiet and unobtrusive, stood forward. Axis glanced at them as he stretched his legs out underneath the table. “I have brought with me two Brothers who have studied long and hard the records of the Silent Woman Keep. Ogden, Veremund, perhaps you would like to inform the WarLord what you feel opposes Gorkenfort?”
All eyes swivelled towards Ogden and Veremund, who played the part of Brothers of the Seneschal to perfection.
“Artor save you and keep you always in His care,” they said in unison, bowing to Borneheld.
“And you,” Borneheld muttered impatiently, running a hand over the short stubble of his auburn hair. “On with it.”
“My Lord Duke,” Ogden began, “we believe that many of the answers you seek lie in an ancient Prophecy that dates from a time long before the Acharites forced the Forbidden behind the Fortress Ranges.”
For the next half an hour the pair spoke, reciting the first two verses of the Prophecy of the Destroyer and explaining what they knew about Gorgrael and his Ghostmen. Listening to them, Axis found it hard to believe that the rest of Achar as yet had no idea of the revelations he had encountered in recent months. As far as Borneheld and his command in Gorkenfort were concerned, the strange wraiths they encountered could only be the Forbidden. They had no other explanation for them. Yet now Ogden and Veremund were providing Borneheld with an alternative
. In the end, Borneheld reacted exactly as Axis suspected he might.
“Foolishness,” Borneheld finally spat. “It is the Forbidden we face. The Seneschal teaches they are our enemies, not these creatures that some worm-ridden prophecy speaks of.”
Magariz leaned forward, frowning at Borneheld’s words. In the firelight the livid scar on his cheek glowed with an almost maniacal fury. “My Lord, I beg to differ. The ice creatures the Prophecy describes sound all too much like the creatures which attacked our patrols and the Retreat in Gorkentown. And some of the Ravensbundmen who have been fleeing south have mentioned this name—Gorgrael. They say they have heard it whispered on the wind by the wraiths which attacked their homes and families.”
Borneheld continued to look sceptical, but Jorge and Roland nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me, Brothers, if you can. If these are Gorgrael’s creatures that push down from the north then how can we keep them back?” Jorge asked.
Ogden and Veremund looked at each other, both careful not to look at Axis. “If we listen to the Prophecy, Earl Jorge, then the three races of Tencendor must unite under the StarMan to defeat the Destroyer. Nothing else will stop him.”
Borneheld looked at them incredulously for a moment, then he leaned back in his chair and roared with laughter. “You bring me news that would entertain old women and young girls. You tell me nothing that will keep Gorkenfort and Ichtar secure from the creatures that swarm out there in the snow.” He leaned forward again, his voice growing angry, his grey eyes glittering dangerously. “Your talk of this demon saviour is nothing but the ramblings of old men in their dotage, while your talk of uniting Acharites with the Forbidden is heretical and I will have none of it! Artor-fearing men will drive back these invaders, not the ensorcelled souls of the Forbidden! You’re lucky I don’t have you summarily executed for subversive rumourmongering!” He was shouting by the time he’d finished.
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