Faraday shivered and gulped, trying desperately to hold back her tears. This afternoon
was the formal betrothal ceremony and she could not afford to have swollen and reddened eyes.
The usual niceties were being hurried because Borneheld would leave so soon for the north. The
prenuptial contract, covering the legalities of dowry and jointure, had been signed yesterday.
This afternoon her mother had dressed her in a gown of ivory silk that had left her shoulders bare
and exposed so much of her breasts that Faraday thought it verged on the indecorous. Her thick
chestnut hair had been left to flow down her back in virginal style.
Faraday suddenly realised that her father and Borneheld had disappeared from the
courtyard. They must be on their way up here, she thought, her mouth suddenly dry, and she
stood on wobbly legs just as the door to the apartment opened.
Her parents, Isend and Merlion, entered, and behind them came Borneheld, his lieutenant
Gautier and Earl Burdel of Arcen. Faraday wet her lips and dipped into a curtsey as Borneheld
crossed the room.
―My dear,‖ he said awkwardly as she remained deep in her curtsey, her head bowed. He
thrust his hand out clumsily, uncomfortable with courtly manners, and she took it lightly between
her fingers, rising gracefully to her feet. She was a tall girl, and did not have to tip her head too
far back to meet his eyes.
―My lord,‖ she said softly but clearly, ―I am honoured by your offer of marriage.‖ It was
what her mother had told her to say this afternoon, and Faraday had no way of knowing that it
was her father who had done all the offering and persuading. But Borneheld‘s greed and lust had
made him listen and finally agree. Although Isend was not overly wealthy, Faraday was an
heiress in her own right, due to inherit her maternal grandfather‘s estates. Faraday was not only
pleasing to the eye but would bring rich lands to her marriage. Borneheld had not had to think
overly hard about the offer.
―The honour is all mine,‖ Borneheld replied after some considerable thought. Gautier
grinned behind his master‘s back. That was the most courtly phrase he had heard pass
Borneheld‘s lips in a number of years. Borneheld was always more comfortable cursing his
soldiers than passing pleasant conversation with well-bred women.
―Ahem.‖ Isend stepped forward. ―I know how busy the Duke of Ichtar is, Faraday, so
perhaps we can proceed with the ceremony. The Earl of Burdel and Lieutenant Gautier are here
to act as witnesses.‖
Faraday‘s smile trembled a little, but she managed to keep her eyes level as Borneheld
grasped her hand more firmly and began to speak the ancient ritual words of betrothal.
―I, Borneheld, son of Searlas, Duke of Ichtar, do plight thee, Faraday, daughter of Isend
of Skarabost, my troth in marriage. Before Artor and these people here assembled I do promise
to take thee as my wife and to give thee an honoured place by my side. And to this I do freely
consent.‖
Everyone waited expectantly. Faraday swallowed and wet her lips before repeating the
vows. She hesitated a moment before finishing. ―And to this I do freely consent.‖
Borneheld grinned a little lopsidedly, put his free hand into his pocket and withdrew a
large ring of twisted dark gold mounted with a massive round ruby, fumbling slightly as he slid it
onto the heart finger of Faraday‘s left hand. It fit perfectly. Faraday‘s eyes widened; the ruby was
one of the largest stones she had ever seen.
―Oh, it‘s beautiful!‖ her mother whispered to one side.
Borneheld smiled happily and, placing his large strong hands on Faraday‘s shoulders, he
leaned down and kissed her. Faraday tried not to tense under Borneheld‘s hands as his kiss lingered. He smelled of horses, leather and sweat and Faraday found his size and closeness
intimidating. She trembled slightly as Borneheld finally leaned back, wishing she could respond
to this man as spontaneously as she had been attracted to his brother.
Borneheld took her hesitancy as a compliment. ―I can hardly wait until our marriage, my
dear,‖ he whispered. He dropped his hands from her shoulders, but did not seem to know what to
say or do next.
Faraday forced a smile, likewise searching for some light remark. She supposed she
would develop an easier rapport with Borneheld in the future, but for now she simply hoped that
someone would do something that would bring this awkward occasion to an end.
Earl Burdel finally stepped up behind Borneheld and clapped him jovially on the
shoulder. ―I shall watch her like a hawk, Borneheld, and let no harm come to her. I‘m sure that
when you return from Gorkenfort you will want the marriage ceremony as soon as possible.‖
Faraday looked across at her father in confusion. Burdel? Surely she would remain with
her parents until the marriage?
―My dear,‖ Isend smiled at her confusion. ―With the problems in the north both your
affianced husband,‖ he paused to bestow a wide grin on Borneheld, ―and I believe that it might
be too dangerous for you to return to Skarabost, and the court is no place for a young girl.‖
Oh no, Faraday thought in despair, please let me stay with you a while longer.
―So, I‘ve decided to send you and your mother to stay with Burdel‘s family in Arcen. He
will join you in a few short weeks once his business here is concluded. A sensible solution. But
to get you there safely and in the quickest possible time, my dear, you will have to leave early in
the morning.‖
Faraday looked even more confused.
―The Axe-Wielders ride for Smyrton through Arcness and I have managed to persuade
the BattleAxe to let you and your mother ride with them. Three and a half thousand
Axe-Wielders should provide a safe enough escort. The Lady of Tare will also be joining you for
part of the way, so you will not be lacking for female company. Yes, yes, I know that they will
be moving fast, but both you and your mother can ride well.‖
Borneheld stood to one side, pleased with the afternoon‘s events, but now impatient to
get back to his men. In truth, he was not particularly happy that Axis should be the one to
provide his future wife with an escort to Arcen, but as there were few men to spare as escort it
would be foolish to ignore the service he could provide. Besides, Borneheld grinned to himself,
Axis would have several weeks to envy the wife his elder brother had won. Axis would never be
able to find a wife so well-bred or with such lands.
Isend stared at his daughter impatiently. ―Well?‖
Faraday looked between her father and Borneheld, feeling a confused mixture of
emotions: relief, that she would not have to endure many more awkward moments with
Borneheld in the near future; sadness, that she would not be returning home, and a welter of
complex emotions about Axis. She managed to maintain a smile on her face, although she felt
that everyone in the room must see how false it was.
―It sounds like the best solution,‖ she finally said dutifully.
9
LEAVETAKINGS AT DAWN
Axis strode about the courtyard in the predawn darkness, impatient to get moving and
irritated beyond measure that he was to be saddled with a group of women. That one of them was
the Lady of Tare did not diminish his displeasure one whit.
―Belial!‖ he shouted, frowning into the milling men and horses in the courtyard, trying to
spot his lieutenant. ―Belial!‖
―Sir.‖ Belial appeared at his side, a tall, well-built man with deeply set hazel eyes and a
thick line of fine sandy hair over his tanned and beardless face. He wore a plain, grey woollen
tunic coat over a white shirt and grey leather trousers, the normal uniform of the Axe-Wielders.
Belial was some seven or eight years older than Axis, but despite his service, experience and
undoubted expertise he had never harboured any ambition to lead the Axe-Wielders. He
preferred that someone else have the ultimate responsibility and care, and he served happily
under Axis.
―Why isn‘t everyone in formation!‖ Axis snapped. ―It‘s late!‖
Belial took no offence at his BattleAxe‘s short temper. He was always tense and irritable
before they moved out. ―This is the last cohort to form up. The other cohorts are waiting outside
in the streets. In line. Packhorses loaded. Supplies accounted for. Geared up, fed, watered,
weaponed, and ready to go.‖
Axis glared at Belial but there was so little light the effort was wasted. ―Then where are
these cursed women!‖ he growled.
―These cursed women are geared up, fed, watered, ah…packed, and ready to go,‖ a
feminine voice said from behind him.
Axis wheeled around. He could just make out Embeth in the dim light, but it was the
huddle of female shapes behind her that caught his eye. Artor‘s arse! he thought, only avoiding