Crusader. Novel by Sara Douglass

Axis stared at DragonStar for a heartbeat or two, his face expressionless, then he leaned forward,

poured out the two mugs of beer, and slid one down the table. “There is no poison in the beer, nor knife

waiting in the corner.”

“Ah.” DragonStar caught the mug just before it slid off the edge of the table, and raised it to

his mouth, swallowing a mouthful of the beer. “Then I am not here as long-lost son.”

” I am here only because both Azhure and Caelum asked it of me.”

DragonStar’s face lost its humorous edge. “I have no reason to stay here, Axis,” he snapped. “I

could just take that,” he nodded at the parcel, “and leave. I have no use for faded stars!”

To his absolute surprise, Axis burst into laughter. “And nothing could have convinced me

more of your fathering than that speech, Drago! Ah, sorry, I should call you by your birth name, should I

not?”

“I should always have been called by my birth name,” DragonStar said. “As was my right.”

“My, my,” Axis said softly, “you have my humour and you have my pride.” His voice

tightened. “I have also heard it rumoured about this fabulous crystal place they call Sanctuary that

you have Faraday as well.”

With a jolt of surprise DragonStar realised that, if nothing else, Axis was treating him as an equal.

This was man to man, and it was not about Caelum or who was or who was not StarSon, but

about the passing over of the baton of legend.

And Axis didn’t want to let it go.

DragonStar took a deep breath. Axis had never felt threatened by fumble-fingered

Caelum, but he now felt intimidated by DragonStar’s surety of grip. The baton was slipping

away from Axis’ grasp … had slipped.

What if DragonStar had always been the point and the meaning of the high adventure of

Axis’ battle with Borneheld and Gorgrael? What if Axis had only ever been the pawn, and DragonStar

the true champion?

If Axis had not been the true champion, then nothing would demonstrate this more in his eyes than

the fact that Faraday had gravitated to DragonStar. Faraday’s preferences in love would demonstrate

who was the pawn, and who the king,

“Faraday chooses to walk alone,” DragonStar said, and, just as Axis visibly relaxed, continued,

“although I have let her know well enough that I would enjoy her warmth and company by my side.”

Axis paused in the act of drinking some beer, stared coldly at DragonStar over the rim of his mug,

then set it back on the table.

“Caelum is dead,” he said. “I have lost my son and I am in mourning. Forgive me if I do not fawn at

your feet.” He stared at DragonStar. You sent my beloved son to bis death, and now you say you

want to take the woman who was my lover.

DragonStar half-grimaced, then turned it into a small smile. “I do not think you want another son, do

you, Axis? But it would be better for you and I, and for Azhure, and for every one of the living creatures

left in Sanctuary, if we could be friends.”

Axis dropped his eyes, and turned his half-empty mug around slowly between his hands.

Surprisingly, his overwhelming emotion was one of relief. DragonStar had just presented them both with

the perfect solution. Axis knew he could never think of this man across the table as his son — too much

love had been denied, and too much hatred had been passed between them for it ever to be possible for

them to embrace as father and son. But “friend”? Axis suddenly realised how much he had missed having

a friend … how much he had missing relying on and loving Belial.

Axis knew he would be catastrophically jealous if a son proved more powerful than he,

but, strangely, he knew he could accept it if a friend was.

An aeon seemed to pass as Axis thought. A friend. DragonStar a friend?

Something dark and horrid shifted within Axis — jealousy, resentment, bitterness — and then

shifted again, and, stunningly, slid into oblivion.

He needed a friend. Badly. The thought brought such profound relief that Axis realised he

had tears in his eyes.

He blinked them away and raised his gaze back to DragonStar. “How did you realise how

much I needed a friend?”

A corner of DragonStar’s mouth twitched. “I have learned a great deal of wisdom since I

demanded of you that you set Caelum aside and make me Star Son instead.”

Axis almost smiled, and then felt amazement that he could smile at this memory. “You were a

precocious shitty bastard of an infant.”

“Well … technically ‘bastard’ I was not, but everything else you say is true enough. Axis, whatever

else has happened between us and whatever else I have said to you and thought about you and hated

you for, I do thank you for setting me on the path of adversity, for without it I would have been another

Gorgrael, or another Qeteb. Do you remember what you told me in Sigholt, that first time you set eyes

on me?”

“I said that I would not welcome you into the House of Stars until you had learned both

humility and compassion.” Axis paused, considering DragonStar carefully. “And sitting across from

me now I can see a man whose face is lined, not with hate and bitterness as once it was, but with humility

and compassion.

“DragonStar —” Axis shook his head slightly, “how strange it seems to call you that — I think the

time has finally arrived to welcome you into the House of Stars.”

DragonStar paused before replying, allowing himself time to cope with the emotion flowing through

him. How many hours had he spent lost in useless bitterness as a youth and man, longing for this moment,

yet refusing to admit the longing?

“I would be honoured if you would accept me in, Axis,” DragonStar said, “but as your friend

before anything else.” Caelum had already welcomed DragonStar into the family House. The fact that

Axis now wished to do the same meant that the final bridge between DragonStar and his birth

family would finally be repaired.

Tencendor could not be rebuilt without it.

Axis stood, and as he did so the door to the chamber opened and Azhure walked in.

DragonStar rose, staring at her. He wondered if it was her womanly instinct that allowed her to walk

into the chamber at precisely the right moment, or just her attentive ear at the keyhole. She had

changed from the ordinary day gown she’d been wearing when she’d fetched him to this chamber, and

now wore a robe of purest black that was relieved only by a pattern of silvery stars about its hem. Her

raven hair tumbled down her back to be lost in the folds of her skirt, and her blue eyes danced with love

and, possibly, even a little of her lost magic.

DragonStar stared, then collected himself and half-bowed in her direction, acknowledging her as

mother, woman and witch.

Axis smiled and held out his hand to Azhure, then held out his other hand for DragonStar. “It seems,

my beloved,” he said to Azhure, “that we have a new companion for our faded constellation.”

She laughed, then embraced them both. “I welcome us all back into the House of Stars,” she said.

Chapter 4

WolfStar

WolfStar rolled over on his back and screamed. Agony knifed through his belly, then ran down his legs in

rivulets of liquid horror. He jerked his knees to his chest and hugged them, now gasping for breath, and

trying to ride out the successive waves of pain that coursed through him.

Raspu’s poison, he supposed, or Mot’s, or Barzula’s, pumped into him during successive rapes.

“Ahhh,” he groaned, and rolled over, weeping with the pain and the loss and the overwhelming

humiliation. Humiliation, not so much from the demonic rapes he’d been forced to endure, although that

was part of it, but from the realisation that everything he’d done, and everything he’d thought

himself master of during the past few thousand years had been a lie. He’d been a tool and a pawn as

much as had the sweatiest and stupidest peasant and now he’d been disposed of as easily.

The Maze — well taught by the Star Dance — was the hardest and cruellest master of all.

WolfStar — Enchanter-Talon, feared by every Icarii in existence.

WolfStar — crazed murderer, loathed by scores of generations of Icarii.

WolfStar — Dark Man, Dear Man, friend and ally of Gorgrael the Destroyer.

WolfStar — lover and ultimate destroyer of Niah.

WolfStar — manipulator of the entire world and all who lived within it.

WolfStar — utter, utter Fool.

A rat ran over his right foot, scratching deeply into his flesh as it went, but WolfStar paid it no