StarMan (56 page)

"I asked that he be kept apart from my children!" Axis barked, and Cazna's flush deepened. She hurriedly turned and handed the baby to the nurse who followed her, whispering urgently, and the nurse hastened back down the stairs.

Cazna walked over to Axis and Azhure. "I'm sorry, Axis," she said. "I had no idea that either you or your children would be here this morning."

And is DragonStar not "your child" as well? she wondered. Both Cazna and Belial had hoped that Axis' dislike for his son would fade over the weeks, but it seemed as strong as ever. Cazna could not understand it. Drago, as she called the baby (who could look at such a beautiful, cuddly baby and call him 'DragonStar'?), was well behaved and easy to care for. He had learned to laugh early, and Cazna had become addicted to his joyful gurgle whenever she picked him up. Why couldn't Axis and Azhure love him as well? Although Belial wanted to hand Drago back to Axis eventually, Cazna found herself secretly hoping that she could keep him, and she was sure that when her own children came along Drago would accept them easily and joyfully.

And as for Axis' demand that Drago be kept apart from his other children . . . well,
Cazna
thought that was plain ridiculous.

"I want him kept away from Caelum and RiverStar, Cazna. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Axis, I hear you. There is no need to repeat yourself nor to speak so harshly."

Azhure glanced at Axis worriedly. His face had hardened at Cazna's tone.

"If you cannot obey me in this, Cazna, then I will have to ask you to leave Sigholt."

"Axis!" Azhure swiftly handed RiverStar back to Imibe and took Axis' arm. She glanced at Cazna; the woman's cheeks were

still coloured, but with anger rather than awkwardness. "Axis, this was a simple misunderstanding.

Please, leave it."

"Nevertheless." Axis took a deep breath and made an obvious effort to clamp his temper. "Cazna, I appreciate what you and Belial have done. Not many newly married couples would be so generous as to take in someone's else's baby. Cazna ..." he hesitated, not sure how to say this, "Cazna, DragonStar will not be able to stay with you. Certainly not once your own children come along." How to explain to her that he thought DragonStar dangerous? That what Cazna thought was a beautiful baby could well harm other children if he thought them intruders?

Cazna's colour had faded, but her eyes were still hard, and Axis knew she did not understand, and perhaps did not want to understand. A dreadful thought occurred to him - could DragonStar manipulate Cazna's mind and emotions without her realising it?

Azhure, when we come home we shall have to do something about DragonStar.

He could feel her agreement.
There is not much he can do at the moment, Axis. Perhaps once he
is weaned we can send him to StarDrifter. He likes StarDrifter.

Axis' face relaxed completely, and Cazna looked at him carefully. What was going on? Belial had told her that Axis and Azhure, as many Icarii Enchanters, could communicate silently with their minds, and watching them now Cazna believed him for the first time.

"Yes," he said, "that might be best. Cazna, I am sorry for my harsh words, but know that
we
understand DragonStar in a manner that you cannot. Please respect our wishes regarding him."

Cazna nodded and smiled politely.

Axis stood under the fortified gateway of Sigholt and watched Azhure ride across the bridge, the Alaunt already well ahead of her and beginning their run down HoldHard Pass. Back to Smyrton, he thought, back to Smyrton.
What will the villagers think, my love, when they see you ride back into
their midst dressed like that and with such wildness shining from your eyes?

She swivelled in the saddle and gave him a brief wave, letting her love wash through him, and Axis smiled.

"She can look after herself, Axis."

His mother stood by his side, well into her seventh month of pregnancy, and Axis looked at her briefly, awkwardly.

"You should be resting, Rivkah."

"I am not an orchard bloom ready to wilt in the first breeze," she said tartly. "Axis," her tone softened,

"Axis, we must talk about this baby."

"What is there to say, Rivkah? The baby is your and Magariz's concern."

"The baby is your brother!" she snapped.

"And I wish he were not!" Axis retorted. "If I had known that you were still capable of bearing a child then I would ..."

"You would have done
what,
Axis?"

He hesitated, a muscle working in his cheek. "What have you done with the circlet and ring of Achar's royal office, Rivkah?"

"Must you see treachery and black dealing in every shadow, Axis? Must you see this baby as a threat?"

Without another word she brushed past him, her skirts rustling angrily, and Axis leaned against the warm stone of Sigholt and wondered if Rivkah's pregnancy was Faraday's revenge.

On the roof, Imibe held Caelum so that he could watch his mother ride off.

"Such a lucky baby," she whispered in his ear, "to have such a magical mother."

Caelum laughed in agreement and sent his mother a final message of love. Even at this distance she felt it and sent him love in return. /
will be borne soon, Caelum. Wait for me.

Far below in Cazna and Belial's chambers, DragonStar smiled. Soon both his parents would be gone, and with them, any chance of stopping him.

He would be heir. He
wouldl
The Lake of LifeThey sat on the peak of one of the surrounding hills, cloaked by mist and magic from curious eyes, and watched the exodus of Axis' army. It took the entire day to pass.

"He looked well," Yr remarked, her voice slightly hoarse. About her the kind evening light hid the worst of her sores.

"They all do," Jack replied. Both his hands were wrapped about the staff, the knuckles white. "The Lake has done them good."

Zeherah had eyes only for the Lake. She had not seen it this beautiful for over two thousand years. "It is time to move."

"Will anyone see us?" Veremund asked, his voice thin with pain. The sacrifice had been hardest of all on the two old brothers; the rejuvenating power of the Mother given at Fernbrake Lake was now dissipating.

Zeherah shook her head. "No. Look, the southern shore of the Lake is deserted. It will do us well enough." She rose and turned to watch the other four struggle to their feet. Her eyes lingered on Jack. He had always been so proud, so vital, his shoulders broad and strong enough to carry the cares of all five.

Now he trembled and gasped for breath, and though Zeherah yearned to step back and put her arms about his shoulders, she kept her distance and let Yr help him.

Slowly they started down towards the Lake in the dim light, Zeherah several paces in the lead, the others struggling as best

they could. Each was careful not to put a foot astray on the slope - a broken limb now might yet mean the breaking of the Prophecy.

It was full night when they reached their destination and the darkness clung heavily about them. When they finally stopped by the gentle red waters of the Lake of Life they turned to stare at the Silent Woman Keep for some minutes.

"Something is not right," Ogden muttered, clinging to his brother's robe as support.

"Wrong," agreed Veremund.

Even Zeherah ignored the lure of the Lake and scrutinised the Keep carefully. "It has the feel..." she hesitated, furrowing her brow in concentration, "it has the feel of subtlety about it."

"Subtlety?" Jack queried, not sure he had heard aright.

She shifted, trying to put her emotions into words. "When the Dukes of Ichtar inhabited Sigholt the Keep always had a feeling of wrongness about it, but the wrongness of Dukes of Ichtar was not subtle -

it glared forth like the noon-day sun. Whatever is...not right...about the Keep now is far more elusive.

Almost," she paused again to lick her lips, "almost crafty. Shrewd."

"Is it the Keep, lovely lady, or someone - something -inside it?"

Zeherah spun about. Behind her, perhaps three or four paces, stood the Prophet in his silvery beauty.

But his brow was as furrowed in thought as hers, and his eyes were fixed on the Keep. She turned back to Sigholt.

"Not the Keep. No, not at all. The Keep is vibrating with health and happiness. It does not feel the wrongness. It does not recognise it."

The Prophet sighed and stood behind her shoulder. "Someone inside, then?"

Zeherah nodded. "Yes."

Who? he thought. Who? It worried him that he could not understand it... yet what could he do? If he could not sniff it

this close, then he would do no better in the Keep itself...and he could not risk the bridge recognising him. Not yet.

Caelum, he thought suddenly, the realisation sending cold ripples down his spine. Caelum is in there!

Be safe, Caelum!

"We should not be concerned about that now," he said, placing a hand on Zeherah's shoulder.

"Tonight we are here to witness for the last of the five. After tonight you will be together again."

"Whole in ill-health and corruption," Yr said. "Do you wish that you had not volunteered for this task?" the Prophet asked sharply.

"I chose of my own free will," she replied, holding the Prophet's stare.

He was the first to drop his eyes. He had never thought to have been this affected by their suffering.

Three thousand years ago it had seemed an adventure, even to him. Now ...

"I suffer with you, Yr." He raised his head again and met her level gaze.

And yet you will live through it!she whispered in his mind for him alone, and the Prophet winced. He quickly smoothed his expression, then bent and kissed Zeherah on the mouth.

"Zeherah, you will be beloved for always for the sacrifice you now make. And you will always rest in my heart. I could not have asked for better than you."
Fine words, Prophet.

Zeherah nodded, and her eyes swam with tears. "I, like Yr and Ogden and Veremund and my beloved Jack, harbour a myriad of regrets. But most of all," her breath caught in her throat, "I regret that I should have lost so much life trapped in that ruby. That is so unfair."
Unfair, Prophet.

She slipped her robe from her shoulders and stepped to the shore line, hesitating as the wavelets washed her toes, then strode resolutely into the water. Within moments she had disappeared underneath the surface.

Unfair that we should have to suffer so much, Prophet. Was there no other way?

No other way,Yr.
Will you go forward with hate in your heart?

I do not hate, Prophet. I merely regret - but regret lies so heavily on my soul that I do not think I will ever smile again.

And to that the Prophet had nothing to say.

When Zeherah walked back out of the Lake, her eyes glittering with power, the other four stepped forward to hug her fiercely.

As they stood together, the Prophet spoke in words of power. "And now you are five again. Whole in your unwholesomeness. United by the corruption that eats at your hearts. From here your only duty is Fire-Night. Be there."

Jack bowed his head, and his grip tightened about the staff. The heavy metal knob at its tip was black with tarnish, but the Prophet thought he could see faint lines of silver tracing across its surface. Soon.

"Be there," he repeated, then disappeared.

"If we bathe in the Lake," Zeherah said, "it will give us the strength for the final journey."

.......................:..................................................

Inside the Worship HailAt Faraday's back Minstrelsea swayed and hummed for over eighty leagues in a gigantic arc that swung from the Silent Woman Woods, through western Arcness and Skarabost, until now it waited only a few dozen seedlings' distance from the Forbidden Valley and union with the Avarinheim.

The Forbidden Valley will have to be renamed, Faraday thought as she stared at the last remaining obstacle before her, once it becomes part of the greater forest.

Between her and the valley lay Smyrton. The sun shone overhead, yet some two hundred paces distant the village was grey and dark. There was no-one in the carefully tended fields, and Faraday could see no movement within the village, either. Everything seemed grey; the picket fences, once sparkling with white paint, the walls of the houses, once daubed with lime, the mellow thatch quilted thickly to roof beams. Faraday shivered, and the Goodwife put a supporting arm about her.

"Shadows," she said with the voice of the Mother. "Somewhere in there lurks Artor."

Faraday's fear grew. She wished she could plant around Smyrton, leave it unvisited, undisturbed.

"Can't," the Goodwife said. "For that would be to leave a cancer in the heart of Minstrelsea."

Plant straight through, then. Up to this point Faraday had not disturbed any towns or villages or evicted any from their lands. Axis, and then Azhure in her role as Guardian of the East, had made sure that the western parts of Tencendor would be free for Faraday, free for the forest.

All but Smyrton.

Azhure! Faraday thought desperately, where are you? For weeks she had been sending unspoken calls to Azhure, their urgency increasing with every day. Where was she? How was she? Had she managed to rescue Axis from the calamity that threatened him?

Would she be here in time?

"Believe," the Goodwife said, and Faraday's mouth trembled, attempted to smile, then thinned in despondency. She did not feel well, her legs and back were aching, and every movement now was an effort.

Why did she have to plant in this condition? Damn you, Axis, she thought bitterly, for making my life so difficult.

Her hand rested on her belly, and the Goodwife exchanged a worried glance with Barsarbe. In the four months since Yuletide, whatever ill-feeling there was between Faraday and Barsarbe had apparently vanished in the daily ritual of planting; but then, both Faraday and Barsarbe had carefully avoided any mention of Axis or Azhure. Faraday appreciated the company and conversation of the Avar women, and had spent the evenings laughing with Shra and telling the girl stories of her life as Queen.