Starman

  “Yes, yes.” Gorgrael let himself be cheered. “There are not enough men in Tencendor to provide him with a force to equal mine. Unless…the trees.” His mind kept coming back to that. Why did he have to worry about both Axis and the trees?

  And Faraday. She was a conundrum to drive anyone crazed. He had to stop her planting the trees, for they might yet prove his undoing. Yet he needed her alive, for she was the key to Axis’ death.

  “Artor will not kill her, will he?” he asked yet again.

  “No,” the Dark Man reassured him. “Artor may weaken her, but I have that situation under control. She will survive. You will yet have the Lover.”

  Gorgrael breathed deep. “Good.”

  They moved cautiously out from the Murkle Mountains, a long column of cold, injured and dispirited men. Above and ahead flew what was left of the Strike Force and what they reported cheered yet perversely worried Belial.

  Timozel continued to lead the Skraeling force northwards, to Gorken Pass, the scouts thought. There were no Gryphon in the skies. The weather, while ominous, did not look any more so than could be expected for this time of the year. And hour by hour, day by day, Axis clung to his horse, held upright by blankets and ropes, and stared sightlessly ahead. He was quiet for the most part, but Belial knew that each step Belaguez took, each slip in the snow, sent shafts of agony coursing through his body.

  And, Belial could not stop thinking, Axis is the only one who can save us, yet in saving us at the Azle River, he has condemned us to slow defeat.

  He thought about Azhure, and wondered if his message had reached her before the storm closed in. And if it had, then what could she do to help them?

  35

  RIVKAH’S SECRET

  Azhure could see the spires and pennants of Carlon hours before the Seal Hope finally docked. The ship’s approach had been similarly visible, and there was a sizeable crowd waiting. At the front stood Rivkah and Cazna, holding hands, excitement and tension lighting and lining their faces.

  Azhure leaned over the deck railing and waved at them, wondering what news they had. She had sent no word ahead to announce her return, and she wondered if the worry on their faces was for her, or whether it was caused by word from the north.

  Rivkah let Cazna’s hand go and rushed forward to embrace Azhure as she stepped off the gangway. “Azhure! How are you? The children? What’s happened? Why are you back so soon? Have you heard from the north? Oh, Azhure!” and she barely restrained herself from bursting into tears.

  Azhure hugged her tightly and then embraced Cazna briefly. Now she was closer, Azhure could see that Cazna looked thin and pale, and Rivkah’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

  “I’m well,” she said, “and the twins have been born. Now, what have you heard from the north?”

  “Too little,” Rivkah said, holding Azhure’s hand tightly. “Far too little.”

  “Well,” Azhure smiled, trying to put both women at ease, “this is no place to share news. Say hello to Ysgryff, and Caelum, and here…here are my latest.”

  “Oh,” Rivkah breathed, as the nurses stepped forward, “they are beautiful! What have you named them?”

  “RiverStar and DragonStar.”

  Rivkah’s eyes flew to Azhure’s face. She, as well as any Icarii, knew the power of the boy’s name.

  “And,” Azhure continued with a slight twist of her mouth, “yes, they are beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “But come,” she said as Rivkah and Cazna both greeted Ysgryff and kissed Caelum, “come. This is no place to talk.”

  The palace entrance was only a few short blocks from the main gate into Carlon, so Azhure suggested they walk. Human and Icarii smiled and waved at them, but Azhure could sense that the mood of the city was grim. Whatever news had filtered down from the north must be poor indeed. Her eyes slipped briefly to the east, where she could see the top of Spiredore gleaming even in the overcast sky. Soon, she promised herself, soon.

  “Enchantress!” Hesketh, captain of the palace guard, was running down the street towards her.

  “Enchantress,” he panted as he reached her.

  “What’s wrong?” Rivkah snapped, worried by the expression in Hesketh’s eyes.

  Hesketh ignored her. “Enchantress, a farflight scout has just arrived from the north. He has a message…from Belial.”

  “Belial?” Cazna cried and seized Hesketh’s arm.

  “Not Axis?” Rivkah said, her grey eyes apprehensive.

  “News for the Enchantress,” Hesketh said firmly, and shook Cazna away.

  “Shush, Rivkah, Cazna,” Azhure said to the two women. “I’m sure we will all know soon enough. Ysgryff,” she turned and beckoned to her uncle. “Take Cazna’s arm, will you?” and, linking her own arm with Rivkah’s, she hurried them along the final few paces to the palace entrance.

  As they approached the royal chambers Azhure’s apprehension deepened. What had happened during the week she’d been aboard the Seal Hope? Had Axis managed to die despite the GateKeeper’s opposition? Had he found another Gate to go through? Had he left her?

  “Imibe,” she said shortly as they paused in the antechamber, “take the children and feed them. Then they will need to rest. Ysgryff, stay with us. Hesketh, fetch the scout. Now,” she linked her arms through both Rivkah’s and Cazna’s, “let us sit in the Jade Chamber and hear what enlightenment the scout has for us.”

  When the scout did enter, Azhure instantly feared the worst. His wings were tattered and bloody, his clothes stained, his face drawn and exhausted, but he held himself upright proudly, and folded his wings neatly as he greeted Azhure.

  “Enchantress.”

  “BlueWing EverSoar,” Azhure said, recognising the birdman. “What news?”

  “I come from the north,” BlueWing said, and the listeners all shifted impatiently. “I have been delayed many days, for a storm of great wrath kept me trapped in the southern Murkle Mountains. Consequently the news I bring is over a week old, and I cannot know what has happened since.”

  He glanced at Rivkah, and Azhure realised he was reluctant to speak in front of her.

  “It is all right, BlueWing,” she said. “We must all know eventually…and I have some idea of what you are about to relate.”

  BlueWing nodded. He told of the destruction of Aldeni and, in particular, of Jervois Landing; and Rivkah and Cazna paled when he described Jorge’s death. He related the course of the battle at the Azle River, and then even Azhure lost her colour, for WolfStar had not told her of the full extent and viciousness of the encounter. BlueWing described how Axis had caused the frozen Azle to splinter asunder, drowning many of the Skraelings and trapping the main part of the force on the northern bank of the Azle.

  “We now know who leads the force,” he said. “Timozel, once Axe-Wielder and Champion to the Lady Faraday.”

  Timozel? Azhure frowned, trying to place the name. Ah. Embeth’s son. She nodded. “Timozel. Well, at least now we know who it is. Go on.”

  “We rejoiced,” BlueWing continued, “as the Azle broke asunder, because we thought we had survived the day. But then the Gryphon attacked from nowhere, and all seemed lost.”

  As he described the horror of the Gryphon attack, leaving nothing out, Cazna cried out softly but then composed herself with noticeable effort; Rivkah put one arm about her, her eyes steady on BlueWing, already knowing there was worse to come.

  In a much softer voice now, BlueWing described Axis’ use of so much of the Star Dance. “The results for him personally were devastating,” he whispered.

  “Go on,” Azhure said, her own voice tight, as BlueWing paused. “Tell us.”

  BlueWing took a deep breath and looked at a distant point over their heads as he continued. “He should have died. Even now no-one knows why he yet lives.”

  Rivkah’s free hand flew to her mouth, her eyes enormous.

  “Enchantress.” BlueWing looked directly at Azhure, his eyes wide and compassionate. “Axis yet breathes, but his
soul lives in what can only be described as a corpse. It is as tattered and burned as a rag doll that has been thrown into a fire by a careless child. When it falls apart, I do not know what will happen.”

  Azhure had expected something of this, but she was not prepared for the horror of hearing it put into such frank words. For an instant she remembered Niah’s blackened corpse twisting and crackling on the hearth, and she shuddered. When she spoke she was relieved, yet astounded, to hear how steady her voice was. “And Belial? Magariz?”

  BlueWing spoke quickly, grateful for the change in topic. He bowed slightly to Rivkah and Cazna. “They live, and are well, my Ladies. Enchantress,” his eyes slipped back to Azhure, “Belial sends you this message. ‘Axis needs you. I need you. When you are well, join us. Bring your bow and your hounds and your horse and come.’ That’s it.”

  For some time there was silence. Azhure sat, close to tears, thinking of Axis’ agony, and of Belial’s agony watching him suffer.

  “And that is what I fully intend to do,” she whispered eventually. “Join them as soon as I can.”

  Cazna raised her pale face. “And did Belial send me word?” she asked, her mouth trembling.

  BlueWing shook his head regretfully. “Princess, there was time only for the shortest words. All were desperate. But I’m sure he thinks of you daily.”

  “And Magariz is well?” Rivkah asked. She was not surprised that BlueWing carried no personal messages for them, but she ached for Cazna. The deaths on the battlefield were sometimes not the cruellest wounds of war.

  BlueWing smiled briefly. “Yes, Princess Rivkah. He has the devil’s own luck on the battlefield.”

  Rivkah relaxed, grateful for BlueWing’s smile; it told her more than words could have.

  “And casualties?” Ysgryff asked. All this talk of husbands was trying when there were more desperate things to be discussed.

  “Dreadful,” BlueWing replied, and told them just how dreadful. Then he explained Timozel’s puzzling withdrawal to the north, and the equally inexplicable cessation of the storm after three days.

  “Gorgrael constantly surprises us with his inconsistency,” Azhure said. “Perhaps it is the advice he receives. Thank you, BlueWing. Have something to eat, and I shall talk further with you once you have rested. Hesketh?”

  Hesketh stepped forward from his position by the door as BlueWing left the chamber.

  “Hesketh. I sent a farflight scout northwards to Axis…or Belial. Do you know if he passed through here?”

  “Several days ago, Enchantress, but I do not know how far he has got. If there was a storm above the Western Ranges then he may have been delayed.”

  Azhure bit her lip, wondering about her messengers to Talon Spike. But it was too early for them to have reached the mountain home of the Icarii, and far too early for confirmation of their success. “Thank you, Hesketh. Will you ask the kitchen servants to prepare us a meal? To serve it, perhaps, in an hour or two.”

  He bowed and turned away but, just as he reached the door, Azhure stopped him with a soft question. “Have you heard from Yr, Hesketh?”

  He stiffened, and Azhure had her answer. She nodded, and he left the chamber.

  “I am going north,” Azhure said after they had sat in silence for some time. “North to Axis.”

  “I’m coming too,” Rivkah said calmly.

  “And me!” Cazna cried.

  “Oh, by the Stars!” Azhure said, “I cannot be burdened with the two of you. You will stay here.”

  “Azhure—” Rivkah began, her eyes steely, when she was interrupted by a slight knock at the door. It was Imibe, and she carried Caelum.

  “Excuse me, Enchantress,” she said, “but Caelum was fretting and wanted to join you. Would you prefer that I kept him away for the time being?”

  “No,” Azhure said, holding out her arms for her son. “No, he may stay with us. Thank you, Imibe.”

  She cuddled Caelum close, waiting until Imibe had left the chamber, then stared at Rivkah, her eyes as hard and as determined as Rivkah’s own. “Rivkah, I will not take you. You are needed here.”

  “Nonsense,” Rivkah said, shushing Cazna as the girl tried to speak. “Ysgryff is here,” she inclined her head to the Prince of Nor, who, amused, inclined his equally as gracefully in her direction, “and can look after the interests of Carlon and whatever of Tencendor remains free of Gorgrael. I am coming with you.”

  “Mama? Where are you going?”

  Azhure almost bit her tongue in annoyance. “To Papa, dear. But I must go alone.”

  “Azhure!” Cazna leaned forward, her eyes bright, ignoring Rivkah’s continued attempts to shush her. “We have waited here for months, waited for word…and none of us are court-sheltered butterflies who wilt at the first touch of a snowflake. Do you yearn to join your husband? Well, so do we!”

  “We were within a day of riding for the north anyway, Azhure,” Rivkah said. “Now that you are here, and intend joining Axis, why, you may ride with us,” she finished graciously, lowering her eyes to hood their amused gleam.

  “Mama, I want to come too. I want Papa.”

  Azhure fought to keep her temper under control. “The ride is hard, dangerous. It is too much to risk all of us.”

  “Damn you, Azhure!” Rivkah suddenly seethed. “I am not going to be left behind any longer! My son and my husband are in the north and I damn well will be too! If you refuse to let me ride with you then I will follow an hour behind. I rode with Axis’ army through eastern Tencendor for months, and there’s no reason why I can’t ride with it again!”

  Now Cazna stared defiantly at her as well and Azhure suppressed a curse. She would have to lock these two up if she wanted to leave them behind. “Ysgryff?” she said. “Ysgryff, I will leave you in charge of Carlon.”

  He inclined his head. “As you wish.”

  Rivkah looked triumphantly at Cazna, but Azhure was not yet finished. “You will go north, but not directly to Axis and the army. And in this you will obey me!”

  Both women blinked at the command and power in her voice. Rivkah had noticed Azhure’s added assurance as she stepped ashore, but had thought it only a result of regaining her health after birthing the babies. But this was different. “Where then?” she asked.

  “Sigholt. If this Timozel is leading his army north, then Axis will have to follow him eventually. And if so many of the army are hurt then they will need the Lake of Life and the comfort of Sigholt. You will see your husbands soon enough.”

  “But Azhure,” Cazna said, “if we are going to ride north to Sigholt then we will undoubtedly meet with the army in Aldeni anyway.”

  Azhure smiled and stroked Caelum’s curls. “But we are not going to ride, Cazna. And,” she bent and kissed the crown of Caelum’s head, her ill temper now completely gone, “if we go to Sigholt then I may as well take you and the twins, sweetheart.” She sighed. “And I suppose Imibe and the nurses shall also have to come along. We shall be quite a party.”

  Yes, Sigholt was a good idea. She would enjoy going back there briefly, and it would not delay her too long. A few days, perhaps, at worst.

  And it will give us time to speak with you, Azhure.

  The voice echoed about the chamber and Azhure’s head lifted, her eyes stunned. No-one else reacted to anything but the surprised look on her face.

  “Azhure?” Ysgryff asked. “What is it?”

  Time alone in the snow will give you time to grow.

  Adamon! Azhure breathed to herself. Yes, perhaps this would be the best plan. To Sigholt first with Rivkah, Cazna and the children…and then she could travel south-west by herself…alone…time to grow.

  And, then, when she met Axis…

  “Azhure?” Rivkah asked. “What do you mean, ‘We are not going to ride’?”

  Azhure smiled secretively. “We will leave in the morning, Rivkah. Pack a small bag with what you want to take to Sigholt, something you can carry yourself, and then we shall go boating.”

  “
Boating?” Rivkah was getting cross now, suspecting that Azhure was trying to trick her, perhaps leave in the middle of the night without them.

  “Spiredore!” Caelum cried, and Azhure laughed and rumpled his curls. “Yes, my love. Spiredore shall take us to Sigholt.”

  After they had talked some more, Azhure sharing the tale of the birth of the twins (which she glossed over as briefly as she could) and of the wonder of Temple Mount and the Temple itself, and eaten the light meal that the servants carried in, Cazna and Ysgryff left. Imibe took Caelum off for a nap, but Rivkah hung back.

  As the door closed behind the others, Rivkah sat closer to Azhure. “Well, Azhure,” she said. “What has happened to you?”

  Azhure shrugged, wondering how much Rivkah’s natural perception had seen. “I have but grown up, Rivkah.”

  Rivkah smiled. “More than that, I think. You have acquired something much more than maturity. But tell me, what did you find out about Niah?”

  “Oh, Rivkah.” She took the woman’s hand. For so long Rivkah had been the only one who had known of Azhure’s yearning for her mother, and now Azhure was happy to share what she had discovered. She told her of Niah’s letter and of what the First had said. She told Rivkah of the Temple and of the wondrous jade latticework roof of the Dome of the Stars—which the First had finally shown her—but she did not tell her of WolfStar and of his claim that he truly did love Niah and that she would be reborn. And she did not tell Rivkah of the night she had spent cradled in StarDrifter’s arms.

  Rivkah wept, and finally hugged Azhure tightly to her. “I am so glad,” she murmured, “that you have found so much of your mother, Azhure. Treasure that letter always.

  “And now,” she leaned back, “tell me of those children. Was the birth as easy as you intimated? I saw Ysgryff shoot you some sharp looks. Tell me what truly happened.”