StarMan (30 page)

Belial glanced at Magariz, both men as cold and miserable as Axis, then edged his own horse closer to Axis.

"You
must
tell us what it is you think . . . what it is you plan, Axis," he said. "Dammit! Why lead us west like this?"

Axis finally moved. He gathered up Belaguez's reins. "Meet in my tent tonight," he said, and booted the stallion forward. "FarSight, bring all the farflight reports from the Murkle Mountains that you have."

The tiny tent was jammed with the three men and the Icarii Crest-Leader, but at least it was out of the wind, and the crowded bodies gave off their own heat. Soon clothes and feathers steamed and men unwound scarves and peeled off gloves.

"I think he's hiding in the Murkle Mountains," Axis said, and raised his eyes to meet those of his commanders.

"The Murkle Mountains?" Magariz asked. "I know little about them."

"Few do," Axis replied, "because few go there. I have some knowledge only because one of my cohort commanders came from a hamlet close to their skirts. Generations ago, perhaps even as long ago as old Tencendor, the Mountains were slightly warmer, and more rain fell. People lived there then. More importantly, for our cause at least, generations of miners tunnelled deep into the mountains after opals.

Now the mines are abandoned."

"And perhaps not," Belial said. "Axis, what made you think of the Murkle Mountains?"

Axis shrugged. "A trifling thought as I drifted towards sleep, my friend. But listen to me," his voice warmed with enthusiasm, "it would be the perfect hiding place, surely? Those abandoned mine shafts would be enough to hide an army, and Stars knows the Skraelings love dark, hidden places underground."

"And they're the perfect place to spring a trap!" Belial said. "Whether we went south or north from Jervois Landing, our unknown adversary would be able to attack our rear. And it's the last place we would think to look."

"It
was
the last place we thought to look," Axis said dryly. "FarSight. I asked you to send farflight scouts west. Their reports?"

"Not reassuring, Axis. Several scouts have been over the Mountains, but there is nothing but blasted peaks and shadowed valleys. Nothing lives on those Mountains."

"But what lives
inside
them?" Axis insisted.
"Where else can he be?"

"Axis," Magariz said. "What if the Skraelings
are
in these mine shafts? What do we do? Go in one by one with torches? Or ask, politely, if they would mind coming out to meet us in gentlemanly battle?"

For some time there was silence. None of the commanders envied Axis his leadership.

"Ho'Demi?" Belial finally asked. "Have you heard from him?"

Axis shook his head. "When he needs me to know, then he will contact me. But he is somewhere in the Murkle Mountains. Deep."

Ho'Demi had brought five men, good Ravensbundmen, into the depths of the Murkle Mountains with him. All five were now dead.

Ho'Demi wanted to contact Axis -
had
wanted to contact him for two days past now - but power filtered through these Prophecy-damned shafts and tunnels, and whatever it was shielded Axis' mind from Ho'Demi.

Perhaps it was the cursed rock that hung in countless thousands of tons above him, perhaps it was the dark power of the as yet hidden Skraeling force, but Ho'Demi was not sure.

But home was overrun by Gorgrael's pets, and now Ho'Demi wondered if these shafts were infested with them, too.

After Axis contacted him, Ho'Demi had moved his small group of scouts into the Murkle Mountains.

They had found an abandoned mine shaft easily enough and had carefully eased their way down it.

Ancient iron ladders still clung to its walls, and Ho'Demi had thought they would snap and kill them all, but the rust had held together, and they'd reached the floor of the first shaft safely. Faint light permeated from the opening far above, but within paces of moving into the first of the tunnels even that was lost. This darkness was so thick it seemed to
live,
and it moved about them with a fluidity that would do a Ravensbund dancer proud.

None had liked it, but the StarMan had asked them to investigate, and so they dampened their fears and moved deeper and deeper.

Ho'Demi allowed no light. He was sure that the Skraelings' silver eyes would glow, even in this darkness, and that his men would hear their whisperings; Ho'Demi had never known a totally silent Skraeling. So they moved through dark, they
ate
dark and they
breathed
dark, because Ho'Demi wanted the Skraelings to have no warning. He wanted to get his men out alive.

But one by one, his men had been taken, dragged away in utter silence into the perpetual night of the abandoned mines. Those in the front would suddenly realise that the rear man was gone, and none would know at what point he had disappeared.

Ho'Demi had eventually gone to the rear himself, but within an hour the front man had been taken, then the remaining man, and then Ho'Demi had been left alone in the dark. Utterly, totally lost.

If he could, he would have escaped this hell, but at some point he had become so disorientated that now he only crawled through the shoulder-high tunnels. Even death would be a release.

But Ho'Demi was not ready to die. He still had the Prophecy to serve, and he still had Sa'Kuya waiting for him. He rested some minutes, taking a swallow of water from the almost empty flask that hung at his belt, then he moved again...slowly . . . slowly . . . expecting death at any moment.

Chitter, chatter. Chitter, chatter.

Ho'Demi's head flew up and, again, he struck it on the roof of the tunnel.

Chitter, chatter. Chitter, chatter.

Ho'Demi realised the noise was in his head, not in the shaft about him.

Chitter, chatter. Chitter, chatter.

Whatever had taken his men was now coming for him. He flexed his hand then closed it about his dagger. If he could not kill these creatures, then he would kill himself. At least, if he died by his own hand, he could die pretending he died on th open ice-fields of the Ravensbund.

Chitter...who are you? Chatter...who are you?

Ravensbund,his mind replied instinctively, and th creatures that he could now feel crowding the tunnel behin him ceased their chitter, chatter, surprised by the response.
M name is Ho'Demi, and I am Chief
of the Ravensbund.

Chitter . . . doesn't matter, chatter . . . still you can die.

Why?Their need reached him, and Ho'Demi could feel th< they needed him to die, but he didn't know why. And he
wante
to know why. Every man deserved to know why he died.

Chitter, chatter. Why can he speak to us? Others have no Never, chitter, chatter.

I speak with the mind voice because that is the privilege ofth Ravensbund Chief. All Ravensbund people serve the Prophec and the Chief more than most.Why
do you want me to die?

So you can join us. Don't you want to join us?

No. I want to escape these confines.

(Sigh)
So do we, chitter, chatter. But we need a worl crueller than the one we have lost to
accept us.

Ho'Demi felt as though his mind were going to explode. H communicated in the mind voice with Axis, and it did not hui him, but these creatures drove sharp claws into his head wit every word they . . .

chittered, chattered. And he was confusec
You need a world crueller than the one you have lost?

We are lost, lost, lost, chitter, chatter.

The word 'lost' echoed through Ho'Demi's mind and san up and down the tunnel.

Sad, sad, sad, chitter, chatter.

WHO ARE YOU?Ho'Demi screamed into the blackness.

For a long moment there was silence. Then...
Our bodit have gone. Lost. Stolen. Ground to dust
and pebbles to crow golden rings on graceless fingers.

Something clicked in Ho'Demi's mind.
You are the...sou...of the opals?

Chitter, chatter. Souls, lost. Will you join us? Or can you offer us a world crueller than the one we have lost?

Ho'Demi abruptly sat down in the dust and gravel. It had long been rumoured among the people of Tencendor that opals were stones of ill-luck and cruelty, but their incredible beauty still created a market.

If only they knew.

We asked your companions if they knew of a world, a cruel world, that might accept us, but they merely accepted their death, and would not speak to us.

But if they
could
have spoken, then I would wager that each and every one of them could have suggested the world that I will now offer you, Ho'Demi thought. He shifted slightly in the darkness. /
will
offer you a cruel, cruel world, and yet one more beautiful than the one you have lost. No-one will
come to chase you from this world, nor seek to chisel into its depths.

He could feel the wild excitement of the lost souls.
Chitter, chatter. Can you? Will you?
Where
will
you?

A bargain, though. For a world I want freedom from these dark spaces . . . and information.

The souls were suspicious.
Show us this world then. Show us, and do not lie to us with your mind,
for we will know.

Ho'Demi leaned back against the wall of the tunnel, closed his eyes, and formed an image in his mind.

Within a heartbeat both the runnel and his mind reverberated with excited chittering.

Ours, chitter, chatter? You would lead us there? Would you? Would you? Would you?

There are creatures who will gambol about its edges and others who will travel its plains, and you must tolerate them.

But they will not tunnel, tunnel, tunnel?

No.

Ah, chitter, chatter. Then they may gambol. They may travel. It is beautiful. It is cold and hard and it glows with as many colours as our previous world. It is cruel, is it not?

Crueller than you can imagine. The surrounding waters are known among men as Iskruel.

And whatis
our new home's name, chitter, chatter?
Ho'Demi smiled.
Iceberg.

They led him,
chitter, chatter,
to the Skraelings. They had not bothered the Skraelings, because they hid deep in a natural cavern to which the lost souls,
chitter, chatter,
felt no claim.

Peering over a boulder at the mouth of a tunnel, Ho'Demi could finally see the soft glow of silver eyes, and the frantic whisperings of Skraelings.

Chitter, chatter. Is this who you seek?

Yes. My friends -and when did I ever think to call those who killed Ravensbund 'friends'? -
Can you
drive them from here?

You did say acruel
world, did you not?

Cold and hard and icy. Not like this balmy darkness you currently inhabit.

Oh! Chitter, chatter! When?

At the moment, I and mine are consumed with warring the enemy that whispers beneath us, but when I have time and the opportunity to ride for my homeland, then I will come for you.

You are a true man. We can feel that. Come for us, chitter, chatter.

Ho'Demi edged back from the boulder.
Can you drive them from here?
he repeated.

We can drive anything from these caverns and chambers should we put a mind to it, chitter, chatter.

Then do it.

Axis?

Axis straightened so fast on Belaguez's back he almost fell off. Belial, riding behind, kicked his horse forward.

Ho'Demi?

Axis. I have found them. It was as you surmised. They hid in the mines of the Murkle Mountains.

Axis frowned.
Hid?

He could feel the wry amusement across the void between their minds. Yo«
have a horrendous
enemy, StarMan. They are numerous beyond belief, and the Skraelings are so armoured now that
a man will have to aim straight and sure if he wants to hit the eye. And the Gryphon . . . the
Gryphon will blacken the sky. But they are no longer in the mines. I have herded them for you.

WHAT?

Ah, but I have had some assistance, chitter, chatter.

Axis cursed the man. Had cold finally tipped his mind beyond sanity?

Ride for the mouth of the Azle River, StarMan. That is where you will converge.

The mouth of the Azle, Ho'Demi?

Chitter, chatter, Axis. Chitter, chatter.

Of Ice and LaughterHe fought for a Great Lord, and in the name of that Lord he commanded a mighty army that undulated for leagues in every direction.

Timozel smiled and let the cold seep through to the marrow of his bones. Since he had vowed allegiance to his Great Lord, the cold no longer bothered him. Indeed, he had come to desire it.

The cold wind blew at his back as hundreds of thousands screamed his name and hurried to fulfil his every wish. Before him another army, his pitiful enemy, lay quavering in terror. They could not counter his brilliance.

He turned his head slightly and saw that, indeed, the Skraeling army undulated in every direction, and every whisper echoed his name. Soon, when he gave the command, they would scream for him.

Remarkable victories were his for the taking.

"Soon," Timozel breathed and looked ahead once more.

It had not eventuated quite as he had planned, but no matter. He would still meet Axis (and how many months, years, had'he lusted for this day?) with an army ten times his foe's pitiful force, and he would face Axis on his own terms. Perhaps Timozel could not surprise his former commander, but he could still best him, and best him he would.

A
great and glorious battle and the enemy's positions were overrun — to the man (and others
stranger that fought shoulder to shoulder with them) the enemy died. Timozel lost not one soldier.

Jervois Landing, no doubt. That had truly been a great and glorious battle, and Timozel had revelled in his victory.

Another day, and another battle. The enemy used foul magic this day, and Timozel's forces were grievously hurt . . . but Timozel still won the field, and the enemy and its crippled commander retreated before him.