swearing out loud through a supreme effort.
―I had not expected you to bring every single one of your seamstresses, laundresses and
chambermaids with you, Lady Tare,‖ he said curtly. ―Do you think to teach my Axemen
needlework about the fires at night?‖
―The Lady of Skarabost, her daughter Faraday and I have brought our maids, BattleAxe.
We do not travel without our attendants,‖ Embeth replied firmly.
―Well I hope they can ride, because you‘ll have to travel without them if they fall off
their cursed horses crossing the first overflowing gutter they come to!‖ Axis snarled, ignoring
Embeth‘s gasp at his rough tone. Turning on his heel, Axis disappeared into the throng of men as
they mounted and formed up.
Belial shrugged in sympathy at the women, then hurried off to fetch their horses. Embeth
turned to the ladies Merlion and Faraday and smiled wryly. ―I have heard that his temper
improves as the sun rises, my friends. Let us hope that is truly the case!‖
―No wonder Priam doesn‘t receive him!‖ Lady Merlion muttered. She wished Isend had
found them a more gracious escort—and one with a less unsavoury parentage.
Faraday wriggled in embarrassment at her mother‘s words, then abruptly giggled at the
image of their maids floundering in a flooded gutter while Axis rode resolutely on.
Her mother was horrified. ―Faraday!‖
Embeth struggled for a moment, then she too started to laugh, wheezing with the effort of
trying to keep it low. Finally she gave up and burst into a merry peal as Belial and several
servants came back with their horses. ―Onwards and forwards, ladies,‖ she chuckled, ―onwards
and forwards!‖ and scrambled onto her horse.
Faraday was just settling her skirts after mounting her horse sidesaddle when a rough
hand touched her knee. ―Borneheld,‖ she gasped. The sun had just risen and a shaft of light
shone directly into Borneheld‘s face as he squinted up at Faraday. ―My dear. I had to see you
safely off.‖ Faraday was too high to lean down so that he could kiss her mouth, but Borneheld
made up for it by patting her leg awkwardly through the skirts of her riding habit.
―I will count the days until I see you again, Borneheld,‖ Faraday muttered, embarrassed
by his attention in case Axis reappeared. She wriggled her leg slightly, hoping that Borneheld
would drop his hand.
Although he ceased his patting, Borneheld kept his hand firmly in place as he peered
about the courtyard. ―Where is…? Ah!‖
The final cohort had formed up, and Axis appeared at one corner of the courtyard,
mounted on his dappled-grey stallion, Belaguez. The horse was skittish in the early-morning
cold, and his steel-clad hooves slipped and skidded over the slick cobbles of the courtyard as
Axis rode across to Borneheld.
Faraday was now so mortified she wished that somehow Artor could find enough pity in
his heart to reach down and snatch her from this life. She averted her eyes, her colour rising,
unable to look at the BattleAxe. Axis shot her a quick glance, recognising her from the banquet.
He knew who she was now, since Earl Isend had spent the best part of an hour persuading him to
accompany her and her mother to Arcness.
―Borneheld,‖ he said flatly, his eyes flickering over his half-brother‘s hand resting on the
young woman‘s knee. He felt a moment‘s sympathy for her.
Borneheld was unable to resist a sneer. ―Don‘t lose too many of my Axe-Wielders before
you arrive in Gorkenfort, BattleAxe.‖
Axis‘ mouth compressed and his hands tightened on Belaguez‘s reins, causing the
stallion to half rear. ―If you can‘t manage to drag your mind away from your forthcoming
marriage, Borneheld, then I doubt that you‘ll survive long enough to lead even your horse to
water.‖
Borneheld finally lifted his hand from Faraday‘s knee to pat her patronisingly on the arm.
Seizing on the equine metaphor, he spoke without thinking, wanting only to irritate Axis. ―Isend
has handed me the reins of the finest mare in the stable, BattleAxe. You could never hope to own
anything this well-bred.‖ He laughed at his own wit and, dropping his hand, fondled Faraday‘s
leg again.
Underneath her choking blanket of embarrassment, Faraday‘s temper flared into
white-hot anger. She was no mare to be passed between men for the highest price! She dug her
booted heel into her horse and viciously swiped it with the long whip that hung down the far side
from Borneheld. The horse snorted and leaped sideways in surprise and indignation, and
Borneheld lost his footing. He waved his arms and stumbled alarmingly, almost falling to his
knees on the slippery cobbles.
―Borneheld!‖ Faraday cried, hoping her voice held a suitable degree of surprised anxiety.
Her green eyes flickered momentarily to Axis before she hooded their triumphant gleam. Her
mother gasped out in concern behind her, but Borneheld regained his balance and glanced at
Faraday, assuming she had momentarily lost control when the horse had shied at some imagined
shadow.
Faraday splayed her hands in a display of helplessness and Borneheld smiled to reassure
her. ―My dear, it doesn‘t matter. When we are married I‘ll teach you to ride properly.‖
Axis had noticed Faraday‘s actions and glance and restrained a wry grin. The girl had
spirit, it seemed. ―And in return perhaps the Lady Faraday can teach you your dance steps, Borneheld. Your exhibition just now was hardly impressive.‖
Borneheld stiffened, wishing a biting retort would spring to his lips. ―Do not tarry on
your way to Gorkenfort, BattleAxe,‖ he snapped finally, his colour rising. He gave Faraday a
final pat on the arm, then turned and strode back into the palace.
Although cheered by the BattleAxe‘s remark, Faraday nevertheless shook her head
imperceptibly. Why had she acted so foolishly? She squared her shoulders, wondering at the
antagonism between the two brothers.
―Axis.‖ Jayme walked out from the shadows where he had been standing. Axis bowed
from the saddle and gave his Brother-Leader the clenched fist salute of the Axe-Wielders. ―Axis.
Ride well and fast, my son. Find the answers that we so desperately need. And remember your
promise.‖
Axis nodded, his eyes cold. The tension between the two had not dissipated completely
over the past five days since their furious argument in the Brother-Leader‘s apartment. Axis
edged his horse away from the Brother-Leader. ―Furrow wide, furrow deep, Father.‖
―Wide and deep,‖ Jayme replied. ―May Artor hold you in His care now and for always,
my son.‖
For a long moment their eyes caught above Belaguez‘s tossing head, then, as Jayme
raised his hand in blessing, Axis wheeled his stallion around in a tight circle, sparks rising as the
horse‘s hooves struck the cobbles.
―Axe-Wielders, are you ready?‖ he cried in a clear and penetrating voice.
From the courtyard and the streets beyond rose a single shout. ―We follow your voice and
are ready, BattleAxe!‖
―Then let us ride!‖ Axis cried, and a shout rose from his men as the thunder of twenty
thousand hooves filled Carlon, sending the eagles and hawks roosting on the city walls fluttering
into the sky in feathered confusion.
10
ACROSS THE PLAINS OF TARE
Embeth had heard stories all her life about the almost legendary ability of the
Axe-Wielders to move fast and far, no matter the size of their column. She had never really
believed them, thinking them soldiers‘ stories from the bottom of a jug of ale. But after riding
five days from sun-up to sundown she realised the stories were all true.
The column of Axe-Wielders contained over three and a half thousand mounted men, at
least three hundred packhorses, several hundred riderless horses who were rotated among the
riders each day, and, Embeth grimaced as they slowed down to make camp on the fifth night,
seven very sore women (none of whom had fallen off at the first overflowing gutter). There was
also one equally sore Brother Gilbert and, unbelievably, a fat white cat which must have stowed
away on one of the packhorses. Every evening it strolled out of the dark and wound around the
BattleAxe‘s legs, purring loudly and contentedly despite his curses. Every morning it strolled off
into the dawn and no-one saw it again until the evening.
Embeth twisted around in her saddle. Gilbert was riding morosely along about twenty
paces behind them. Still sulking at being sent to the Silent Woman Keep with the Axe-Wielders,
Gilbert preferred not to spend his days in conversation if he could help it. Lady Merlion clutched
grimly to the pommel of her saddle, no doubt cursing (well, perhaps not that) her husband for sending them along with the Axe-Wielders to Arcness. Faraday, younger and more flexible both
in mind and body, was coping rather better. After the first day‘s ride she had abandoned the long
trailing skirts of her riding habit and dressed herself in a more sensible divided skirt to ride
astride. Her hair hung in a girlish fashion down her back in a thick plait. Lady Merlion had