Enchanter (2 page)

As far as Borneheld was concerned, the Skraelings could feed all they wanted on those two as on any others not prepared to stay with him.

Unaccountably, the Skraelings had left them alone for a critical five days after their escape from Gorkenfort. They had ridden as hard and as fast as they could — until the horses started to die beneath them — expecting an attack from Gorgrael's army at any moment. No-one in Borneheld's company knew that it was because Axis and his command had hurt the Skraelings so grievously in the icy wastes above Gorkenfort that the SkraeBolds had needed to regroup the decimated Skraeling forces.

All Borneheld and his company knew was that they'd had five days' start on the Skraelings, and that five days was the difference between life and death.

When the Skraelings did finally reappear, they did not do so in force, and Borneheld's column had managed to keep moving further south towards the comparative safety of Jervois Landing. The Skraelings would not push so far south. Surely.

Yet every step they took southwards towards safety increased Borneheld's bitterness. It hadn't been his fault that Gorkenfort had fallen. Traitors had undermined his command and betrayed both Ichtar and Achar. Magariz's actions had confirmed that. His most senior, most trusted commander had chosen to ride with his bastard half-brother rather than fight for Borneheld and the cause of Achar. For thirty years Borneheld's jealousy of Axis had dominated his life; now bitter resentment twisted his gut. Artor curse him, he thought, I hope he died out there in the frozen wastes. Screaming for me to ride to his rescue, screaming my name as the wraiths chewed the flesh from his bones.

But even that thought could not bring a smile to Borneheld's cold-chapped face. Now, after the treachery of Gorkenfort, Borneheld trusted few. If Magariz could turn against him, then who else might prove treacherous? Even Jorge and Roland, riding silent and introspective further back in the column, did not enjoy the same depth of trust as they once had. No, Borneheld truly trusted only Gautier and Timozel. Who would have thought that such a young whelp - and an Axe-Wielder to boot - could grow into such a loyal and devoted servant to the Duke of Ichtar? Timozel had clearly demonstrated his worth on this march south, proving that he could harry men into obedience as well as Gautier, and fight with as much courage as Borneheld himself. Now he rode his horse slightly to the left and behind Borneheld, sitting tall and proud in the saddle, the occasional flare of his visionary eyes keeping Borneheld's own hopes alive.

Artor had graced Timozel with visions, and that meant Artor would eventually grace Borneheld's cause with victory as well.

Borneheld's eyes slipped to the horse that followed a few paces behind Timozel's. His wife, Faraday, clung to the saddle and toYr, as she had since her horse succumbed to the cold three days ago. Could he trust Faraday? Borneheld frowned under the hood of his cloak. He had thought that she loved him, for had she not whispered words of love and devotion to him night after night, and fled to his arms when Axis had proved incapable of protecting her? But what was it she had murmured to Axis as they said goodbye in the courtyard of Gorkenfort?

Curse her, he swore silently. Her future would be with him, not with Axis.

She would provide Ichtar with an heir, not whatever shadowland Axis currently ruled. He would rather see her dead than betray him as Magariz had.

The loss of Gorkenfort and, subsequently, Ichtar had hurt Borneheld to the core of his soul. As a young boy growing up in a loveless household, deserted by his mother, ignored by his father, Borneheld had always had Ichtar. And when his father died and Borneheld became Duke of Ichtar at only fourteen, he finally felt that his life had meaning. Ignored by so many when he was simply the son of Searlas, Borneheld revelled in the power he wielded as the new Duke. Power brought him the attention he craved, the respect he demanded, the command that was his due, and, eventually, the woman that he desired above all others.

Now most of Ichtar was lost to him, and Borneheld felt the loss as keenly as a physical wound. What power would he command as the man who had lost Ichtar? What respect? Even if he could win back Ichtar — and he would - he would still feel vulnerable. He would only feel safe if he commanded ultimate power over all of Achar, if he sat the throne itself. As King, Borneheld would have all the power, the respect and the love he craved. As King, he would surely be able to flush out the traitors about him once and for all. Desperate as he was to get it back, Ichtar was no longer enough for Borneheld.

And didn't Timozel's visions indicate that Borneheld would become King?

Yes, it was Artor's wish that he take the throne.

Now, as he approached Jervois Landing, Borneheld reviewed the forces he still commanded. Despite the losses at Gorkentown - all of which had been the fault of either the demon-spawned Axis or that traitor Magariz - he still controlled a powerful force. The original column of five thousand he had led from Gorkenfort had been swelled by the refugees from Ichtar. As sorry as these refugees were now, they could work and some could be trained to fight. There wefe also troops still stationed in Achar that Borneheld could command. There was still a cohort of five hundred Axe-Wielders guarding the Brother-Leader at the Tower of the Seneschal. All these could be his. And, if those soft chimes meant what he hoped they did, he would also have the Ravensbundmen.

Uncouth savages to be sure, but they had both spears and horses. If they could stick an enemy in the gut then they would be useful. Finally, there were the resources of the Corolean Empire to the south of Achar. If that simpering fool of a King, Priam, hadn't yet thought about arranging a military alliance with the Coroleans then Borneheld would make sure that he soon would.

Suddenly a stationary horseman loomed out of the mist and Borneheld barked an order to halt. He sat for a moment
and looked at the inscrutable Ravensbundman's face. It was even more intricately tattooed in blue and black than most of his race. Dizzying whorls and spirals covered not only his cheeks, but his forehead and chin as well - although, strangely, there was a circular area right in the centre of his forehead that remained naked and untattooed. As with all his race, the savage had tiny chips of blue glass and miniature bells threaded through his myriad greasy black braids. Even his mount - ugly, stunted, yellow-furred nag that it was — had glass and bells woven into its mane and tail.

Uncivilised savages. Still, if they could kill they might yet serve a purpose.

Ho'Demi let the Duke stare at him a moment, then spoke, demonstrating a fluent command of the Acharite language. "Duke Borneheld. Gorgrael has taken my land and murdered my people. He drives his Ghostmen south. The Ravensbundmen live only to defeat Gorgrael. If you fight against Gorgrael then we will stand by your side."

Borneheld narrowed his eyes at the barbarian. "I do fight Gorgrael. But if you want to fight with me then you will place yourself and your people under my command."

Ho'Demi wondered at the implicit threat in Borneheld's tone, but it did not perturb him. He nodded. "Agreed."

"Good." Borneheld peered into the mists behind the Ravensbundman, trying to see how many men-he had with him. "How many will you bring to my command?"

"Of the twenty thousand in my camp, eleven thousand can fight."

"You have done well to choose my cause," Borneheld said quietly. "Together we will make our stand here at Jervois Landing against whichever of our enemies attack first. This time, / will prevail."

Talon Spike

Four weeks after StarDrifter tore the crossed axes from his breast, Axis —

BattleAxe no longer — sat in his favourite spot on Talon Spike letting the wind ruffle through his blond hair and beard. Every few days Axis found he had to spend time alone, to lose himself in contemplation of these beautiful northern alps rather than in the intricacies of the magical Star Dance, Icarii society and his new life.

From his eyrie perch on the rock ledge Axis gazed at the blue-white glacier a thousand paces below, crashing a path through the lesser Icescarp Alps beyond Talon Spike to calve its massive icebergs into the Iskruel Ocean. One month ago the bergs in the Iskruel Ocean would simply have been flecks at the edge of his vision. Now he could see that the huge icebear on the smallest of the bergs had lost an ear in some past ursine dispute.

He sighed. Even the wonders of his new-found powers could not make him forget that Faraday was still trapped with one half-brother while the other, Gorgrael, was undoubtedly remarshalling his forces to invade Achar. And if Faraday or either one of his despised half-brothers did not occupy his thoughts, then Axis found himself worrying over the problems of his new life.

Father, mother, sister, uncle, grandmother. All exciting, all troubling in their own right. But it was StarDrifter who dominated Axis' days. His father, the man who had only existed in court gossip and innuendo for almost thirty years and whose conspicuous absence had given Gorgrael the grist to torment Axis in his nightmares for so long, was as compulsively drawn to Axis as Axis was to him.

Their relationship was not easy. StarDrifter was a forceful man with powerful expectations. He drove his son from first waking until Axis, exhausted, lay down his head late at night. And Axis, having been alone for so long, having been his own man for so long, both resented his father's intrusions and yearned for his father's attention. It was not easy reconciling resentment and need every minute of the day.

Axis' mouth twisted as he thought of their morning's training session. After hours confined in the one chamber, they had fought, bitterly, savagely.

MorningStar, StarDrifter's mother and Axis' grandmother, who was often present, had finally dismissed Axis as she tried to reason with her son. Yet all Axis wanted to do was stay in that chamber and ask StarDrifter another question about his heritage and powers.

"You fought again."

Startled, Axis turned his head towards the voice. It was Azhure, dressed in a pale-grey woollen tunic and leggings, walking confidently along the narrow rock ledge. She halted a few paces away. "May I join you? Am I intruding?"

Axis smiled. "No, you're not intruding. Please, join me."

She sat down gracefully, curling her legs underneath her. "It is a superb view."

"Can you see the icebear?" He pointed to the distant iceberg.

Azhure laughed. "I have not your Enchanter's vision, Axis SunSoar."

Axis relaxed. Since he had come to Talon Spike, Azhure had become a good friend. She was the one person he felt he could talk to, who understood the problems he encountered as he embraced his heritage.

"You have developed a good head for heights since living among the Icarii, Azhure. Few Groundwalkers could even stand on this ledge, let alone wander along it as if strolling the flat plains of Skarabost."

"Why fear when I have an Enchanter to hand to save me should I tumble?"

Axis laughed and changed the subject. "How did you know StarDrifter and I had fought?"

"He came back to the apartments and snapped at Rivkah. She snapped back. I left them bickering and thought to find the source of such marital disharmony so that he could explain himself."

"Do you think I should have re-entered their lives, Azhure?" Axis asked.

"If there are problems between them, you are not the cause, Axis," Azhure replied. "I am sorry if I implied, even laughingly, that you were."

Axis leaned his arms on his raised knees and considered his parents. Tension marked the relationship between himself and his father, while with his mother there was nothing but warmth. When the five Icarii had escorted him into Talon Spike she had been the first to step forward. She had said nothing, just folded him in her strong arms. For long minutes they had stood, each weeping silently, holding each other as close as they could. Axis recalled how he had summoned the memory of her struggle to give him birth and fight for his life. For so long he'd believed that she had cursed him as she died in his birth. Those long minutes holding each other had been a time of healing for them both.

But things between Rivkah and StarDrifter were not idyllic. That they loved each other, Axis had no doubt. But their passionate affair atop Sigholt had not transferred easily to Talon Spike. Perhaps Axis had arrived in their lives only in time to watch the sad disintegration of their marriage.

"It must be hard to look into the face of your husband and see a man who looks no older than your son."

Axis' expression hardened a little. His Icarii blood ran much stronger than his human and, like his sister, he would live the full span of an Icarii lifetime -

perhaps some five hundred years, should he be left in peace to do so. What would it be like to watch his friends age and die while he still enjoyed youthful vitality? What would it be like to see the sods thrown on their grandchildren's coffins before he had reached his middle years?

"Do I like it that in four hundred yean I might still be sitting here watching the icebears hunt seals on the icebergs, trying desperately to recall the name and face of a lovely woman who had once sat here with me? Whose bones have turned to dust in some forgotten tomb? No, Azhure. I do not like it. I find it...

hard."

Azhure reached out and took his hand. Axis stiffened briefly, then he forced a smile. "But these powers I daily learn as an Icarii Enchanter give me a few compensations. Such as making the woman who sits here with me a small gift for the friendship she offers me."

For an instant Azhure thought she caught the hint of a faraway melody in the wind. Then she was laughing in delight as the soft, velvety blooms of the violet Moonwild-flower rained down about her. She let Axis' hand go and tried to catch as many as she could.

"How did you know?" she gasped. She had not seen a Moonwildflower for over twenty years - when she was a tiny girl her mother had occasionally taken her on walks during full moon to find the flower.

Axis plucked a flower out of the air and threaded it into her wavy black hair.