Battleaxe (35 page)

Timozel glanced at Yr and nodded. “It is lucky that we arrived when we did. I doubt she could have ridden another day.” He looked dispassionately at the Sentinel. “Surely your magic could have helped her before this?”

“I have done what I could, Timozel, but I am no healer.” Yr paused, her blue eyes flickering over Timozel’s face. “And be careful what you say here, Timozel, your loose tongue could have us
all
killed.”

Timozel’s face tightened, but his retort was stopped by the sound of the gates opening. He spurred his horse after Gautier, leaving Yr standing until she could summon the strength to kick her horse after them.

The fort was crowded with men and provisions. As Gautier reined his horse to a stop in the centre of the courtyard a tall and powerfully built man stepped out of one of the shadowed doorways of the Keep.

“What is going on here?” he shouted furiously. “I gave orders to close those gates at dusk and to let
no-one
through once they were closed for the night!”

Gautier slid off his horse hurriedly, dropping to his knee in the muddy slush of the courtyard at Borneheld’s feet. “My Lord,” he said a trifle breathlessly, “it is I, Gautier. And look what I have brought you!” Gautier flung his hand out dramatically behind him and Borneheld looked towards the indistinct shadow of Timozel holding Faraday close on his horse.

Borneheld stepped past his lieutenant towards the horseman. “What could be so important that you could not spend the night in Gorkentown without disturbing the watch? Well, I’m not going to be…” He stopped in amazement as he reached the horse, recognising Timozel first, and then, unbelievably, the woman he held in his arms.

“My Lord,” Faraday said with the last of her strength. “I simply could not wait for you to return to me, and so I have come here to you.” Then she fainted.

F
araday woke close to noon the next day in an austere room, the only furniture unadorned serviceable chests and chairs and the bed in which she lay. The walls were of undressed stone, naked of any hangings or tapestries to relieve them of their stark lines. A single narrow window let in dim light through its opaque glass panes.

Gorkenfort. Gradually Faraday recalled her arrival the night before, the astounded faces of Borneheld, Earl Jorge and Duke Roland—all of whom had believed she and Timozel had died in the earthfall at the Ancient Barrows. She dimly remembered Borneheld carrying her inside to the fire where she had murmured the story she had told Gautier in Jervois Landing, Timozel filling in some of the gaps. She’d remembered, with a supreme effort, to squeeze Borneheld’s hand as he knelt beside her chair. Then, as she had finished speaking, everything had dimmed again.

“Well, sweet child, do you feel better?”

Yr was sitting on the far side of the bed. Faraday rolled over and smiled at her. Yr had obviously managed to have the baggage containing their new clothes brought into the fort and was dressed in a light grey woollen dress, its plain cut suitable for a maid. She had pulled her fine blonde hair into a staid roll and her hands were
folded primly in her lap, but with her all-knowing eyes Yr looked anything but demure.

“Where are we?” Faraday asked, looking about. A small fire blazed in a grate along one wall, lending some warmth and cheerfulness to the chamber.

“Nowhere but Borneheld’s own chamber, dear one. No doubt the WarLord has had to spend a cold night in less comfortable surroundings.”

Faraday sat up. “Yr,” she frowned, “I can remember so little of last night. What did Borneheld say to our story? Did he believe it?”

Yr laughed, a throaty pleasant sound. “Dear one, he was so astounded to find you alive that had you claimed to have floated down to Gorkenfort on a moonbeam he would have believed you. Now, you had better get washed and dressed so you can continue to play the part of the lovelorn girl for his benefit.” Yr’s face became serious. “Faraday, we have no time to lose. At the most we can be only a week or so ahead of Axis. I was talking to one of the watch last night and he told me that the fort received word a few days ago that the Axe-Wielders had left Sigholt and were riding for Gorkenfort. You must be married by the time he arrives. You
must
be able to temper Borneheld’s jealousy of his half-brother. Remember, Tencendor’s fate rests…”

“On my becoming Borneheld’s wife, not Axis’,” Faraday wearily finished for her. “You do not have to remind me every day.”

Yr dropped her eyes and stood up, turning to fetch a pitcher of water that had been warming by the fire.

Borneheld met with Earl Jorge, Duke Roland, and Lord Magariz in the stone flagged Great Hall of the Keep. Although the Hall was not overly large for such structures it was barely warmed by the coal fire in the massive fireplace at the end of the Hall. The great dining table was covered with maps and reports and had been placed close to the fire; but even though they stood in close proximity to the fire all the men needed the extra layers of clothing they had on. Timozel stood to one side of the hearth, excited at being able to listen and
occasionally advise the deliberations of such important commanders;
Axis
had never asked his advice or invited him to his consultations. Gautier stood by him, his face calm and patient. Borneheld had already rewarded him well for escorting Faraday to his side and Gautier was feeling very hopeful for his future prospects. The conference had been going almost an hour, and the WarLord and his three commanders were arguing over whether or not to risk men’s lives by sending out extra patrols, when Faraday entered the Hall from the doorway at the far end.

Her entrance stunned the warriors into silence. The sight of a lovely woman, dressed in an exquisite emerald and ivory silk gown that revealed more than it concealed, left them with their mouths open and their eyes gleaming in appreciation.

Faraday smiled as she made her way gracefully towards them, her skirts rustling musically as she moved. Thank the Mother they’re standing by the fire rather than the other end of the Hall, she thought to herself, not letting the smile slip from her face and tilting her head slightly to display as much of her elegant neck as she could. Long sleeves and thick full skirts notwithstanding Faraday was close to freezing. Still, she wanted to entice Borneheld into marriage as quickly as possible, and she could do it better in this dress than wrapped in a thick woollen cloak.

Faraday stopped three paces short of Borneheld and sank into a deep curtsey. “My Lord Duke,” she said, “I am sorry if my sudden entrance has disturbed you. Say the word and I will leave.”

“No, no,” Borneheld stammered, leaning forward to take Faraday’s hand and help her to her feet. “You are not disturbing us at all. Please, do not go.” By Artor, Borneheld breathed to himself as Faraday rose, she’s even more lovely than I remember. And to think that she risked her life to journey to Gorkenfort to be by my side. She is as brave as she is beautiful, he thought. And she is mine.

Faraday stood quietly for a moment, regarding Borneheld as objectively as she could manage. He seemed larger and more powerful than she remembered. His auburn hair was cut even closer than before; now it was little more than a dark red shadow across his
head. His grey eyes, his best feature, glowed with approval and Faraday could see herself reflected in their depths. He looked immeasurably pleased to see her, but was obviously struggling to find the right words. Remembering her girlish dreams of turning Borneheld into a gentle and articulate courtier, Faraday now wondered if he could ever be anything but the gruff and blunt fighting man he was. She broadened her smile at him and then turned to the other men present. Best to press the advantage of surprise home while she still held it.

“Earl Jorge, it is my deepest pleasure to see you again.” In past years the grey haired Earl Jorge had twice visited her father’s home in Skarabost and had been kind and courteous to her, treating her with respect. She inclined her head; her position as betrothed wife to Duke Borneheld now meant that she outranked the man and did not have to curtsey to him.

Jorge stepped forward and lightly kissed her free hand. “My Lady Faraday, I will not pretend that I am not surprised and a little alarmed to see you here.” His deeply seamed and weather beaten face crinkled into a bare smile as he spoke and his hawk-like eyes pondered her reflectively. Faraday hastily turned away to Duke Roland, lest those eyes see too much.

“My Lord,” she smiled and sketched him the curtsey owed to his rank. Duke Roland bowed as elegantly as his bulk would allow and returned her smile cheerfully. “My Lady Faraday, you are looking lovelier than any of us remember. How fortunate that you survived that dreadful earthfall.”

The other nobleman present stepped forward. He must be Lord Magariz, Faraday thought as she smiled and offered him her hand. His dark hair was liberally speckled with silver and a red and angry looking scar ran down his left cheek. His face was darkly handsome, almost mysterious, certainly provocative. Faraday tore her eyes away from his face and noticed he was heavily favouring one leg. She remembered hearing that he had been badly injured in an attack on Gorkenfort at the beginning of DeadLeaf-month. He had the spare look of a man who lived only for battle, but his face hinted at hidden
depths of untapped ardour and his dark eyes sparkled at her with unexpected humour.

“My Lady,” he smiled as he straightened after brushing his lips across the back of her hand. “We had hoped that Gorkenfort was impregnable to surprise attack, but here you have the best military commanders in Achar struggling to regain the advantage after your unexpected entrance. Be well and welcome to Gorkenfort, Lady Faraday.”

Faraday smiled at his gracious remarks then reluctantly pulled her hand from his and turned back to Borneheld, giving Timozel and Gautier a brief nod as she did so. “My Lord, please do not tell me that I was wrong to come here.”

“Well,” Borneheld began, but Earl Jorge broke in.

“My Lord Duke, Gorkenfort is hardly the place for such a gently bred lady. We are a military establishment and we expect attack any day now. Borneheld, I beg you, now is the time to return your Lady to safety in Carlon.”

“Oh no!” Faraday said hurriedly, genuine concern shadowing her eyes. She placed her free hand over Borneheld’s fist where it held her other prisoner and spoke pleadingly. “Borneheld, my love. My mother is dead, and I only barely escaped death myself. In my grief and loneliness my first thought was to join you. Please, I beg of you, do not send me away now.” She drew deep on the seed of power that the Mother had given her and stepped closer to Borneheld, smiling into his eyes and gently squeezing his hand between her own.

Borneheld took a sharp intake of breath, as did most other men in the room. Already beautiful, Faraday had assumed an aura of such allure that all the men present felt themselves responding to it in some measure. Borneheld had no intention of trying to resist; if the woman desired him so much, then why deny her?

Faraday saw Borneheld’s eyes darken and pressed her advantage home. “My Lord,” she breathed, “have I come all this way for nothing? Please, Borneheld, let us not delay our marriage any longer. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

By the Plough, Jorge thought, breathless himself, could I have
refused so beautiful a woman who rode through snow and danger to be by my side?

All Borneheld could see was the lovely young woman in front of him, declaring before all these men that she had risked her life to simply be by his side. All his life he had suffered the indignity of watching women smile and compliment him on his fighting skills, while all the while their eyes had followed his half-brother. Well, now he had won a prize that even that fatherless bastard would doubtless hunger after. She had come to
him,
not Axis!

“No doubt you thought only of me after the BattleAxe failed you so dismally,” he said. “I shall have him flogged for his incompetence when he arrives here.”

Faraday quailed at the image Borneheld’s suggestion brought to her mind, yet she knew that she could not plead for Axis now. “I should have stayed in Carlon with you, my love. My father was wrong to send me with the BattleAxe. Perhaps,” she smiled coquettishly, “we should have my father flogged instead?”

Borneheld burst into hearty laughter. “What a mischievous lady you are, Faraday. A surprise, I must say. Well gentleman,” he said turning to the three lords, “could you resist such a beauty as this? I admit that I cannot. Gautier!”

Gautier snapped to attention. “Sir?”

“There is a decrepit old Brother still lingering about the fort, eating his way through stores that would be better spent on a fighting man. Go find him.”

“I will find him
instantly,
my Lord Duke,” said Gautier, wondering where the man could be in the maze of the fort.

Borneheld turned his eyes towards his lieutenant momentarily. “See that you do, Gautier.” He looked back at Faraday. “For I think we will be needing his services at a wedding this afternoon.”

Faraday felt her stomach knot, but maintained her smile. “My Lord,” she breathed, “I can hardly wait.”

Magariz turned and caught Gautier’s arm as the lieutenant strode past him. “Gautier,” he said quietly, “you will find the Brother dozing in front of the kitchen fires.”

Gautier’s face relaxed in relief. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Timozel, quiet up to now, stepped forward. “My Lord Duke,” he began, and Borneheld turned towards him with mild impatience. What did the Axe-Wielder want now? He had done a service rescuing Faraday from the earthfall and escorting her northwards, but surely it was time for him to depart gracefully? Borneheld’s eyes narrowed in thought as he looked more closely at Timozel. The charming youth had grown into a striking man and a nasty suspicion flowered in his mind. The journey north would have taken this pair weeks—just how had they amused themselves at night? Was he about to get something less than he had bargained on?

“My Lord Duke,” Timozel went on, “I do not think you yet quite realise the deep bond between the Lady Faraday and myself.” Borneheld tensed and Faraday felt his fist close tight about her hand. Oh, dear Mother, she prayed even as her face flinched from the pressure of Borneheld’s fingers, do not spoil this now, Timozel. “My Lord Duke, after our fortunate escape from the earthfall I realised that one of the best ways that I could protect the Lady Faraday and bring her to your side unharmed was to pledge myself to her as her Champion.”

Borneheld gaped in surprise and he almost laughed. Champion? No one did that now! Mingled with his amusement was some degree of relief, perhaps Faraday was not as spoilt as he had thought a moment ago. Behind him Jorge and Roland exchanged surprised looks. The last Champion they had known had been of their grandfathers’ generation. Unlike Borneheld, however, neither of them was prepared to dismiss Timozel’s pledge so lightly. What was this girl that she had managed to win herself a Champion?

“My Lord,” Timozel dropped to his knees in front of Borneheld. “My pledge of service also extends to my Lady’s husband. Know that I will serve you as loyally and with as deep a fervour as I serve your Lady wife. I pledge to always put your honour and your cause before my own and before any other vow that I may have made previously. My Lord Duke, will you accept my service?”

Suspicious a moment ago, now a glow of triumph began to
suffuse Borneheld’s face. Not only had Faraday fled Axis’ protection to be at his side, but now Timozel had cast aside his vow of loyalty to Axis and the Axe-Wielders in favour of service to Borneheld. And to think that in a week or so Axis himself would be here to witness Borneheld’s triumph—and to hand over control of the Axe-Wielders. Borneheld dropped Faraday’s hand and smiled at Timozel’s bowed head.

“Timozel,” he said, not bothering to hide the triumph in his voice. “Take my hands.” Timozel looked up and placed his hands between those of Borneheld. “Know that I, Duke Borneheld of Ichtar, do accept your vow of service and loyalty. Be welcome.”