the army that was left to fight another day. The Skraelings did not like running water and there
was a possibility that Achar could hold them back between the Azle and the Nordra. If
Borneheld could get himself and his command there alive. ―Continue,‖ he said as Belial paused.
―My Lord Duke, in order that the bulk of the garrison can move south with some hope of
arriving alive, there needs to be a force willing to draw the Skraelings away from Gorkenfort.
The Axe-Wielders can do that—if Axis leads them, for they will follow no-one else. We are still
over fifteen hundred strong and most of our mounts are stabled here. If we can break through the
ring of Skraelings we can draw them north east, and you can…‖ Belial almost said ―make a run
for it‖, but realised they might be the wrong words to use before Borneheld, ―…lead the
remainder of the garrison south and regroup at Jervois Landing.‖
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 with in 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