StarMan (54 page)

"Drink, Lady, drink. It will refresh you."

Azhure did as she asked, and indeed she seemed to rouse. She pressed the flask into Axis' hands and he took a sip as well, feeling a warmth like brandy-fire spread through his stomach. Without a word he handed it back to Azhure, his eyes on the seven sitting about the fire.

"Who are you?"

"Currant cake?" Now a man on the far side of the fire leaned forward, and passed a plate around towards Axis. "Just baked, good sir, and still warm."

Axis hesitated, but Azhure murmured at his side, and he reluctantly took the plate. Nine cakes sat there.

"Take one," Azhure whispered, helping herself, "and pass the plate along."

Already she seemed stronger and sat up without any need for support. Axis glanced at her, then took a cake and passed on the plate. Each of the seven miners took one.

Azhure bit into her cake and instantly her back straightened and her eyes flared with life. She chewed, crumbs at the side of her mouth. "Eat," she mumbled about her mouthful.

Eyes still wary, Axis slowly raised the cake to his mouth and bit into it. Almost as soon as he tasted the sweet cake strength flooded through him and he jerked in surprise, managing to keep his mouth shut and chewing only through an extraordinary effort.

"Welcome, Axis." One of the women extended her hand and Axis took it, still overwhelmed by the strength the cake gave him.

"My name is Xanon," she said softly, and Axis stopped chewing and stared at her.

A rag dropped to the floor, and then another. The hand that he held was hard and calloused one moment, smooth and round the next. Her smile broadened, and the creases of her face smoothed out, and Axis realised he was staring into the face of one of the loveliest women he had ever seen.

He swallowed, and Xanon laughed. Half rising, she leaned forward and kissed him.

He trembled, and Azhure shot Xanon a sharp look, but then the others were rising and taking his hand and kissing him on the mouth and murmuring greetings, and about them rags fell to the floor and skin firmed and pallor assumed lustre.

As the last leaned back, the Circle of the Stars on Azhure's finger flared into such brilliance all had to squeeze their eyes closed until the light died down.

"We are Nine," Adamon said. "Finally, we are Nine."

They sat for time unknowable, talking, laughing, sharing, until finally Adamon stood and extended his hand to Axis, helping him to his feet. Fully recovered now, Azhure stood beside him and took his hand once Adamon had released it.

"I may not have the chance to speak with you before you move to meet Gorgrael," the God of the Firmament said softly. "Know that we watch and hope. May the Stars shine on you now and forever more."

Axis nodded, unable to speak. He had felt such a sense of homecoming among this group that he thought he could hardly bear it. Azhure's hand tightened about his own.

"When you do meet Gorgrael, none of us can help you," Zest said, stepping forward. "Not Adamon, not Xanon, not myself, not even Azhure. It must be you and he alone."

Narcis laughed and rested his hand briefly on Axis' shoulder. "And make sure you win, Axis. Your place among us is sure
only
if you win. Otherwise ..."

"Otherwise Gorgrael will take it," Xanon said, keeping her distance this time. "And I do not think Azhure wants to be standing there holding Gorgrael's hand!"

"I have no intention of leaving her, Xanon. I will prevail."

She smiled. "Axis. Be wary. We all have our limits. You have seen tonight how use of her power can exhaust Azhure." Her smile died. "And you have felt first-hand what happens when you exceed or misuse your own powers. Be wary and be thoughtful. That is all I want to say."

Axis nodded soberly, about to say something himself, but then, astoundingly, the seven were gone, and the tunnel was empty of any save Axis and Azhure and the patient hounds.

They looked at each other, laughed, and climbed towards the surface.

When they arrived, it was to find that the night had passed and the sun shone high overhead. Only Ho'Demi's feeling that Axis and Azhure were well had kept him from sending down search parties to find them.

Above them the black dot that had been circling for.over a day drifted off on the wind.

Gorgrael ConsidersGorgrael sat back in his chair, his feet extended towards the fire, and considered.

For hours he had ridden in the Gryphon's mind, watched with the Gryphon's eyes, heard with her ears.

And what he had seen and heard made him wonder if he shouldn't be considering a minor revision in his plans. Had brute force been the correct tack? Would not some subtlety have been more appropriate?

Well, maybe so, but it was not too late, certainly not too late.

So he sat back and thought.

And he mostly thought about that raven-haired woman who rode at Axis' side. The Gryphon he had sent scouting was one of the original two and Gorgrael had hated to risk her (the massive pack of Gryphon waiting in the corridors would give birth later this week and soon he would have seven thousand at his disposal), but he had been frantic for information. Timozel had withdrawn so far to the north that any information he could send his master was weeks outdated, or so useless he might as well not have sent it at all.

What was Axis up to?

Where was he?

What force did he have at his disposal?

And how much further did that
bitch
have to plant before the hated trees were joined to the Avarinheim? Already winter had all but slipped from Gorgrael's grasp below the Gorken Pass, but even that would not matter if he could only use what intelligence he had to cripple Axis'

plans.

His Gryphon scout had not been able to garner much - a nest destroyed and some breeding stock massacred - but what little she had seen and heard would prove more than useful.

Who
was
that raven-haired woman?

Who...?

Why had Axis smiled at her with such affection when
Faraday
was his Lover?

What was that bow slung about her neck, and what power was held by the pale hounds who ran before her?

Who...
ahl
Gorgrael leapt out of his chair, slipped and would have fallen had not the talons at the tips of his wings caught on the mantelpiece and saved him from an ignominious slide across the floor.

But he did not care, for a memory had quietly surfaced...a memory that Gorgrael had buried because he did not think it significant when events of greater moment had surrounded it.

But perhaps
this
was the event of greatest moment.

When Axis had taken Carlon from that fool, Borneheld, Gorgrael had sent a Gryphon to scout over Grail Lake. She had done well, and reported many profitable facts, but she had made a fatal error. She was experienced, experienced in the taste of man-flesh from the trenches of Jervois Landing, and she had thought to taste sweet flesh again when she had seen the unprotected mother and child standing atop the white tower. So she had attacked, and everything she had seen until the moment of her death had been faithfully shared with her master.

Now Gorgrael stood twitching with excitement before the fire, recalling the Gryphon's death. She had angled in from the sun, a good tactic, for the woman had not seen her until it was almost too late. But instead of tearing the woman to shreds, the Gryphon had instead been seized and…and unravelled. It was the only word Gorgrael could use to describe the Gryphon's death. The enchantments that had gone into her making had been unravelled, and it had been that woman - the same who now rode by Axis' side

- who had done it.

Gorgrael concentrated his thoughts on the woman and child. She was of what the Acharites called Nors blood; that race of women who often followed armies about offering their favours for a meal and a few hours' paltry warmth in a bedroll. Not surprising, then, to see her at the scene of a successful battle, and not surprising to see her cuddling the result of some careless thrust.

Gorgrael fixed the image of the baby's terrified face in his mind. That baby had the features of an Icarii. His mother's colouring, but the face of an Icarii stared out at him.

So perhaps the woman had lingered overlong with one of the feathered beasts.

Gorgrael may once have assumed this, but not now he had seen her with Axis. Not now Tie had seen Axis look at her with the face of love.

The baby...did that baby have the features of Axis? Did it?
Did
it?

Yes!

Gorgrael screamed his jubilation into the ice walls of his fortress until it reverberated for leagues across the tundra. He scrabbled about the room, his hands clenching and unclenching in frenzy, his wings extended, their talons gouging deep wounds into the furniture as he passed.

The woman . . . and the child.

And...Gorgrael abruptly halted, his eyes almost popping out of his head with the memory of what had happened the instant after the woman had destroyed the Gryphon. The Dear Man had materialised screaming with fury.
By all the stars in the universe, what have you done?

The Dark Man had been very upset.

And all over a human woman and bastard Icarii-child?

Apparently so.

Gorgrael sat back down and tried to think it through. What did this mean?

The Dark Man was overly attached to the woman or the child and perhaps both. No...no, it had not been the child. It had been the woman. Why?

For most of GorgraePs life, the Dear Man had imbued him with all three verses of the Prophecy of the Destroyer. It was the third verse, the Dear Man had said time after time, which gave the all-important information. The Lover, the one whose pain would break Axis' concentration enough so that Gorgrael could strike the killing blow.

But what if - for his own reasons and likely connected with that woman - the Dark Man had been trying to mislead Gorgrael?

What if the Dark Man had lied to him?

Gorgrael shrieked again, in fury this time, and tore the hearth rug to shreds.

Which one was the Lover}

Faraday...or this black-haired woman who rode by Axis' side?

Which one could be used to break Axis' concentration}

Which one would be useless?

"And has the Dark Man spent his life lying to me?" Gorgrael whispered as he crouched beside the fire.

Faraday or...
her}

Gorgrael snarled and hurled handfuls of silk into the fire where it charred and burned, sending a sickening odour wafting through the chamber. Then he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not think while he was so consumed with fury.

"My dear boy," he said eventually, grinning to himself, "why not go for both? What matter so long as both die before him?"

His smile died. Why not? Because Gorgrael had felt the unmistakable aura of power exude from the woman. Gryphon

and Skraeling had died at her hand. She was risky. What if he tried to snatch her and couldn't handle her? What if ...

What if the Dark Man had been training
her
as well as himself? After all, she had used the power of Dark Music to unravel that Gryphon, had she not?

Gorgrael whimpered, curling into a miserable ball before the flames.

The son . . .

He did not at first notice the thin voice that reached out to him.

The heir . . .

Gorgrael blinked and rolled over, slowly rising to his knees.

Vulnerable.

The son. Vulnerable. What did a man feel more for, a Lover or an heir? And whatever Axis may have bequeathed that boy-child, the baby could not possibly be powerful enough to best Gorgrael. Not by any means.

Not if both his parents were absent.

Sooner or later Axis was going to ride north from Sigholt, and the raven-haired woman had already shown she was willing to ride with him.

Surely they would not take the son as well, would they?

No.

No.

GorkenfortTimozel sat amid the rubble of the Great Hall in the Keep of Gorkenfort and remembered.

Remembered when he had planned here with Borneheld, thinking that Borneheld would be the Great Lord who would propel him into glory.

Now Timozel knew better. Now he served Gorgrael, and Gorgrael had invested him with infinitely more power than Borneheld ever could have.

Yet was Gorgrael as great as he had first thought?

Timozel had spent weeks retreating to the north, then had lingered weeks here at the mouth of Gorken Pass, awaiting orders. He was slightly surprised that Gorgrael hadn't called them all the way back to the Ice Fortress, but maybe Gorgrael felt his host was safe enough here where the winds still screamed and the snow still turned to ice within minutes of touching the ground.

Timozel shifted in irritation. Sooner or later he would have to face what was left of Axis' army - surely it could be little more than a mopping up campaign - and lurking among the ruins of Gorkenfort would not help.

But then there was the problem of the weather.

TimozePs scouts had informed him that several leagues below Gorkenfort the land had virtually thawed; Gorgrael's hand was slipping. Was his power slipping too?

The Skraelings, now fully fleshed, could fight in balmy weather as well as they could in a snowstorm, but they would. .

have little advantage. Part of their success to this date had been that Gorgrael had always prefaced their attacks with numbing cold, severely reducing their foes' ability to fight.

"Damn you, Gorgrael," Timozel muttered, "let me finish the task I have begun so well!"

Timozel?

Timozel started so badly he tore his hand along a jagged stone.
Yes, Master?

Timozel, I have some news.

Axis is not so crippled as we first thought. Even now he rides the plains of Ichtar with . . . well, he rides fully fit and confident.

Timozel cursed foully, long and low. Why hadn't he been allowed to finish the job at the Azle?

Timozel?

Yes, Master?

I shall need you to stop him at Gorken Pass.