They were sitting at the table before the fire in the Hall of the Keep, Jorge, Roland and Gautier with them. Faraday stood behind Borneheld’s chair, her hands resting lightly on the wooden head rest, her eyes steady on Belial.
Jorge tapped the table with his fingers. “Any decoy force, no matter how experienced, would face certain death under the circumstances you describe, Belial.”
Belial nodded.
Borneheld glanced at Jorge, then looked back at Belial. “Is self-sacrifice part of your creed, Belial?”
Belial kept his eyes steady. He had to convince Borneheld. “To stay here is certain death, my Lord Duke. I, as my command, would prefer to die fighting in order that others might live. Who knows?” his voice became lighter, as if not even he believed what he said. “Some of us may yet live to dangle grandchildren on our knees, my Lord. If any of us do survive, then we will attempt to join you at Jervois Landing.”
A cynical grin spread over Borneheld’s face. There was only one question he needed to know. “There will not be much point in your sacrifice if you die within five paces of leaving the gates, Belial. Your plan demands that at the least you break through the massed Skraelings and lead them north so that we can move south. Can you break through? Will your force stay alive long enough for that?”
“Yes, I believe we can. The element of surprise will work for us. The Skraelings will not expect us to attack. But to make absolutely sure I want to issue most of the men with fire brands. I think that we can create enough fear among them with the fire to break through.” His eyes briefly met Faraday’s above Borneheld’s head. Belial was placing his trust, as well as the lives of himself, his men and of Axis in her hands. The fire was her plan, and she thought she could make the fire just that little bit more frightening to the Skraelings. Enough, perhaps, to not only let them break through, but to save most of their lives.
Belial had told Borneheld that he and Axis would take only those Axe-Wielders left, some fifteen hundred. But both Belial and Faraday hoped that close to three thousand men would follow Axis out those gates. There was enough disloyalty to Borneheld amongst his men for almost another fifteen hundred, led by their garrison commander, Magariz, to rally to Axis’ cause.
Borneheld looked to Timozel. Over the past days he had found himself relying more and more on Timozel’s judgement rather than that of his more senior commanders. He did not like the glances Jorge and Roland threw each other’s way, and he thought Magariz was not the man he had been before the SkraeBolds had injured him so badly. Even Gautier, although not suspect, flattered simply for advancement. But Timozel was true. Borneheld was certain of it. Timozel had told him that he thought treachery had been the undoing of Borneheld’s plans to save Gorkenfort, and Borneheld believed him. Axis’ meeting with the Forbidden atop the Keep only confirmed his suspicions. He had planned and commanded well, but deceit had undermined his efforts. Yes. If disaster now threatened Achar, then it was not Borneheld’s fault.
Timozel smiled and nodded and Borneheld made up his mind. If the Axe-Wielders wanted to die so quickly, then that was their business. And it might, just might, give them a chance to escape. And it would dispose of Axis. Despite his words on the roof of the Keep two days ago Borneheld had not yet executed Axis. He could not test loyalty further with a public execution…or even a private one.
“So be it,” he agreed. “When do you want to go?”
Belial sat back in relief. “Tomorrow.”
Borneheld’s eyes were cold. “I want to see Axis at the head of the Axe-Wielders as they pass through that gate, Belial.”
“Good. We will go in the morning. At dawn. Will you give me permission to requisition the remaining fuel in the fort? For the brands? I want as many of my men to have them as possible.”
“Tear apart this table if you want, Belial. I will leave nothing for the Skraelings to feast on. Come gentlemen, we all have much to do if we are to be ready to evacuate Gorkenfort.”
Faraday, Yr, Belial, Magariz and a number of Axe-Wielders stood in one of the cramped stables. Horses had been moved outside so the stalls could be piled high with pieces of wood. At one end of the row of stalls three or four men patiently dipped each new brand in a specially prepared oil so it would burn bright and long. A bundle of green material in her hands, Faraday smiled at the doubt on Belial’s and Magariz’s faces, loving both of them for the love and loyalty they were showing Axis.
“Trust me,” she said. “I can give you enough protection to break through the Skraelings, but I can also give you the means to destroy a good number of them once you have drawn them clear of Gorkenfort.” Faraday turned to Yr. “Is Timozel still busy?”
Yr nodded. “Yes. Borneheld has him in the Great Hall, discussing the plans for the retreat.”
“Good.” Faraday shook out the material she was holding. Once it was unfolded the men could see that it had a peculiar pattern with shifting colours of green, blue, purple and brown. It shimmered before their eyes. For a moment Faraday stood, stroking the soft fabric.
“Mother protect them,” she whispered, closing her eyes, and reached down into the very soul of her being for the Mother’s power. It did not fail her, scorching up through her body more powerfully than she had felt it yet. Faraday moaned a little and Yr grasped her shoulders, steadying her. For a moment Faraday hung there before the men, then the gown suddenly flared a searing emerald and every man took a step back. Artor, protect me! Magariz thought silently, what is this woman? First to heal Axis as she did, and now this?
Faraday took a deep breath and hugged the gown tightly to her, remembering the anger of the emerald light as she had moved through it to reach Raum and StarDrifter the night of the first Skraeling attack. She remembered how it had wanted to strike out and not known how. “Mother forgive me if I misuse your power,” she whispered, “but protection will need to be tempered with some action this time.” She fought for control of the emerald light as it throbbed in her arms, talking to it, telling what she needed of it, giving it an outlet for its anger, asking it if it would answer her bidding.
The light abruptly flared three times as brilliantly as it had previously—the entire row of stalls was enveloped in the throbbing light. Then, as suddenly as it had flared, the light died, and Faraday was left standing with simply a voluminous robe of peculiar shifting colours gathered into her arms.
She looked at Yr, and Yr tightened her hold protectively; the girl looked wan and exhausted. But Faraday managed a small smile. “It is done, Yr. It is done.” She turned to Belial and Magariz. “You will be protected as you move through the Skraelings, and you will kill more efficiently than you have ever done before. Now, we have work to do before morning.”
Faraday put the gown on the floor and ripped about a third of the material away. “Tear this apart,” she said, gazing up at the men. “Tear it apart until you only have threads left, then give each man who will ride with you a thread to tie about his arm. Tell them,” her voice took on a steely tone, “tell them, as they tie it, to thank the Mother for Her protection and love, or else it will not work for them. Tell them!”
Magariz bent down and took the torn strip of cloth from Faraday’s hands. “I will tell them, my Lady, and I will offer thanks to the Mother here and now that you are here to guide and help us.”
Faraday sighed, both in relief and exhaustion. “Artor will not protect them out there, Magariz, only the Mother. Make sure they are told.” Yr helped her to her feet and Faraday made a quick decision and laid a hand on Magariz’s arm. “Wait, Magariz. I will come with you.”
Magariz glanced anxiously at Faraday. He did not want her to get into even more trouble than she already had on his behalf “My Lady, Borneheld…”
“Borneheld is too busy tonight to miss me, my Lord Magariz. Come, let us see to your men.”
They came for him in the hour before dawn. All night he’d heard the muffled sounds of men and horses preparing for action, and had paced about his cell in irritation. What was
going on? Borneheld had allowed him no company since he had been thrown into this dark hole and had only reluctantly allowed a man to bring him food and a blanket to keep the worst of the chill at bay. Axis threw the blanket about his shoulders and paced back and forth, back and forth. Damn! Years had passed since he was simply a man at arms, waiting for the decisions and plans to be told to him by his superiors. How had I ever stood it then? Axis asked himself. How could I bear to have been one of the led?
Finally, as he was almost screaming with impatience and frustration, Axis heard one of the upper doors being thrown open and the sound of the footfalls of men coming down the stairs. A glow of light came towards him, gradually becoming brighter.
Axis blinked and shaded his eyes with his hand.
“Brother.”
Borneheld. Axis lowered his hand and blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. Borneheld stood the other side of the cage’s bars, Gautier, Belial and Magariz slightly behind him. Dangling from Borneheld’s hand was a ring of keys. He had a contemptuous smile on his face.
“Belial has decided your fate, like it or not,” Borneheld sneered. “Your lieutenant seems to desire death and has offered your life and the lives of your men as well. Will you accept Belial’s fate?”
Axis glanced behind Borneheld to Belial. Belial’s eye lowered in a small wink and even Magariz nodded slightly at his side. It was not a hard decision for Axis to make.
“I would trust Belial with my life,” he said quietly, shaking the blanket from his shoulders, his bearing proud and graceful even in the disgusting cell.
Borneheld rolled his head back and laughed loudly, although to Axis’ ears the laughter sounded forced. “You would? Then do!” He thrust the keys into Belial’s hands. “You ride in fifteen minutes, foolish man. Make sure that my brother is ready to ride with you—to lead you, if you have the courage. Magariz, Gautier, to me!”
He strode off down the dungeon corridor, Gautier and, after a slight hesitation, Magariz, hurrying after him. Belial unlocked the cell and embraced Axis. “With the Mother’s help, we ride this morning through and beyond the Skraelings into Prophecy.”
Axis felt a chill at Belial’s words. “The Mother?” he asked. “Has Faraday converted you?”
Belial looked sheepish. “It appears the Mother, whosoever She might be, will save us this morning, Axis, while Artor lies sleeping. Here,” Belial lifted a long piece of thread from his pocket and tied it about Axis’ upper right arm. Axis saw that Belial wore one too. “Faraday says that this thread will protect you. We all wear them. But you must thank the Mother for Her protection and love, and place your trust in Her.”
Axis fingered the thread for a moment. “From what you have told me, Belial, She has already given me life through Faraday’s hands,” he said quietly, “and I find it no hard task to thank Her and to place my trust in Her for this day. Belial,” he raised his head and gazed into Belial’s hazel eyes. “What is it we do today?”
“The Axe-Wielders ride through the gates in a few minutes’ time, Axis SunSoar, to act as a decoy for Borneheld to evacuate Gorkenfort. We lead the Skraelings north and Borneheld and the rest of the garrison flee south to rally Achar at Jervois Landing.”
“Pray that the Mother keeps watch over Faraday, Belial. We head for the Icescarp Alps?”
Belial nodded. “Yes. It is time that you went to your father, Axis. We need you with all your secrets unlocked to lead us against the Destroyer.”
Axis buckled the weapon belt that Belial handed him about his hips, sliding his sword and axe into place. “I am not sure that I want all my secrets unlocked, Belial. They may be more frightening than what the Destroyer has to throw at me.” He paused. “And how many men ride with us, Belial? How many men still want to follow me?”
“More than you think, Axis. You will see when we ride. Now, come say goodbye to your brother. For the time being.”
As Axis and Belial emerged from the dungeons Arne fell into step behind Axis, handing his commander his cloak and gloves. There was hardly any space to move, and Axis and Belial had to push their way through units of men standing in formation. Everyone was under strict orders to be as quiet as they could so that the Skraelings would have little warning about what was to happen, but Axis heard his name being murmured in greeting as he passed the ranks of men, and many reached out their hands and touched his shoulder as he passed by.
By the gates what was left of the Axe-Wielders sat their mounts, firebrands burning brightly in their hands, Belaguez standing at their head, saddled and ready to run, impatient for his master and for the battle ahead.
To one side of the Axe-Wielders stood Borneheld, and beside him Faraday, Timozel at her shoulder, their own horses saddled and waiting behind them. Yr waited further back; she would remain with Faraday. Axis smiled, but as he crossed the courtyard towards them he spotted Ogden and Veremund sitting on their placid white donkeys.
“Well, Sentinels, who do you ride with today? Do you fight your way north with me or do you run south with Borneheld?”
Ogden sniffed. “We will tread our own paths for a while, Axis SunSoar. But you will not lose us for long, I think.”
Axis regarded them for a moment. For so many months they had annoyed him. Now he found himself trusting them, despite the disturbing riddle of the Prophecy. “Then take care of yourselves, Sentinels. And of your ridiculous donkeys.” He pulled the soft droopy ear of the nearest donkey affectionately. “I’m sure that you will return to annoy me as soon as you can.”
Veremund leaned over and touched Axis’ shoulder briefly. “Find peace, Axis SunSoar.”
“Find peace, gentlemen,” Axis replied softly, then he turned and strode over to Borneheld. For a moment they stared flatly at each other.
“I hope you die out there today, brother,” Borneheld finally said, his voice thick with forced bravado. “It is the only reason I let you go.” He suddenly wished that he had followed his original plan of having Axis hung like a criminal here in this courtyard.
“The only reason you let me go was because you knew you couldn’t execute me without the entire garrison rebelling. I will not die out there, Borneheld. One day I will return. Wait for that day and know that it will arrive.” Both Axis’ eyes and voice were chilling and Borneheld only just managed to stop himself from stepping back. He forced a sneer to his face, but knew it was not very convincing. Axis’ mouth curled in contempt and he turned away. The next time he saw Borneheld he hoped it would be at the point of his sword.
Axis stepped over to Timozel and stared at the man’s gaunt face for a long moment. “You are a changed man, Timozel, and I do not think that I like what you have become. I hope that your loyalty to Faraday will not fade as quickly as your loyalty to me.” He suddenly reached out and grabbed Timozel’s tunic front, pulling the man close until their faces were only a handspan apart. “Look after her, Timozel! Get her safely away from this death trap! If you value the vow you swore her as Champion then get her safely out!”
Timozel’s face hardened and he wrenched himself away from Axis’ hand. “I live for Faraday,” he said, his voice thick with anger, “and I do not need you to tell me how to protect her!”
Axis moved away from the man and his face softened as he looked at Faraday.
“Live, Faraday,” he said quietly. “You know I could not bear it if you died.”
Her eyes filled with tears and she reached out and touched the thread about his arm for an instant. “Mother be with you,” she whispered, “and with me. I will strive to live, Axis, and hope that you will live for me.” She no longer cared if Borneheld realised her true feelings for Axis. It no longer mattered. She had done her duty and kept Borneheld from killing Axis.
Borneheld looked between the two of them and frowned.
“Borneheld,” Axis said lightly, “I have just realised that I have not claimed my brotherly kiss from your new bride. I apologise for being so tardy. I cannot think what could have come over me to forget my court
ly manners so.” Without giving Borneheld a chance to reply he leaned forward, seized Faraday by the shoulders, and kissed her hard on the mouth, once, and then once again.
He released her and stood back. “My Lady Faraday, Duchess of Ichtar, accept what will probably be my last salute as BattleAxe of the Axe-Wielders.” He clenched his fist over the golden axes on his black tunic coat and bowed jerkily from the waist. “And remember your vows. Every last one of them.” He turned away without waiting for a reply, brushed past Borneheld, who was still looking stupefied at Faraday, and mounted Belaguez.
“Axe-Wielders, are you ready?” he cried in a clear voice.
“Wait!” A dark figure rode forth on a black stallion, a burning brand in his hand. Lord Magariz. “I ride with the StarMan,” he cried to all those assembled in the courtyard, ignoring Borneheld’s furious shout of denial. “Who will ride with me?”
“We will!” the cry rang out behind him, and a long column of men who had been waiting behind the stable blocks now rode out to join Magariz. There were well over fifteen hundred of them, all wielding flaming brands, and each with a thread tied about his arm.
“You will die for this betrayal, Magariz!” Borneheld screamed in fury. “Ride with my unnatural brother now, but never think to receive any mercy from me when you crawl back begging for my favour! I will hunt you down and kill you for what you do here this day!”
Magariz reined his stallion to a halt in front of his former lord. “’Ware, Borneheld,” he said softly, “of the death penalty already hanging over your own head for the murder of FreeFall SunSoar. With that stroke you cut the ties that bound me to you. My own honesty compels me to ride with the man who commands my respect, not the man who has lost it.” He wheeled his stallion over to Axis. “Will you accept my oath of loyalty and service, Axis SunSoar?”
Axis reached out and gripped his hand. “Gladly, Magariz, gladly. You and yours are welcome at my side.” The man’s support touched him deeply; Magariz and his men were risking ostracism, possible death, by joining him. He glanced at Belial, mounted and waiting behind him, and thanked whatever gods were listening that he had men like Belial and Magariz at his back.