A cloud of fear, Ogden had said, and the moment they rolled over his head Axis knew
why.
It was as though he stood alone in all existence. The enveloping cloud, clinging to every
curve of his body and seeping up his nostrils, cut him off from every other living creature. Even
the stars and the earth were gone. Although Axis knew Belial lay in a depression at his very feet,
knew he was there, yet he was not. Belial was gone and Axis was alone. There was nothing but
this cloud, running its hungry, icy fingers over the exposed skin of his face, sending slivers of
fear sliding into the darkest niches of his body.
The interior of the cloud was brighter than the hottest day. The silver and blue bolts of
lightning somewhere deep in the cloud‘s interior reflected off every particle of water in its misty
substance so that Axis had to squint to keep the light from hurting his eyes.
He began to tremble. There was nothing here in this cloud but himself. He was alone,
isolated in existence.
Wrong. The whispers began again.
―Axis, Axis…pretty, pretty…tasty, tasty…‖
Axis bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming. They were like yet unlike the
whispery voices from his nightmares. The whispers of his nightmare had hot teeth which
stripped his skin and flesh achingly slowly so that he died the most painful death possible. These
whispers were simply hungry…and Axis could hear them seeking through the mist.
―Pretty, pretty.‖
―Tasty, tasty.‖
―Axis, Axis.‖
And then, horribly, from somewhere off to his right, Axis heard the click of claws. Click,
click. Click, click. Click, click. As if some ghostly creature was scraping through the mist
towards him.
He tried to tell himself that there was nothing there. Just voices. Just fear.
Click, click.
And, far away, the sweep of great wings through the air. And again.
―Axis, Axis.‖
Click, click. Click, click.
And the sweep of wings.
He felt a movement at his feet and thought it was a creature come to devour him. He
jumped back, feeling his heart seize so violently he thought it would kill him.
―No,‖ a soft voice moaned.
Belial! Axis took a deep breath. He was not alone! Not only Belial, but over three
thousand of his men were out there.
How could he have forgotten that?
Again Axis breathed deep, clinging to the thought that he was not alone. Gradually he
regained some measure of composure. Fear. That was all that Gorgrael could throw at him. Fear.
Whispers in the cloud. Fear.
But Ogden was right. Fear could kill. If you allowed it to run away with your reason it
would eventually persuade you to relinquish your hold on life.
And no doubt every one of the Axe-Wielders out there in their own private nightmares
were as consumed with fear as he had just been.
Axis laughed, hard as it was, and reached down with his hand. He fumbled about then
hauled the canvas off Belial. The rough feel of the material in his hand gave him added heart and
even when a set of teeth snapped so close to his ear that he could feel their passing, Axis did not
let it distract him.
―Belial? Belial, my friend!‖ Axis forced a hearty tone into his voice. ―Why do you cower
on your belly when you still have myriad adventures to face on your feet? Arise, my friend, and
give me some company in this cursed mist.‖
―Axis? ‖
Axis flinched at the fear evident in Belial‘s voice. If Belial had succumbed this badly,
then how were the rest of his men faring isolated in the mist?
Axis grasped Belial‘s hand. ―Come, Belial, we still have a night of revelry ahead of us.‖
He hauled Belial to his feet, appalled at the sickly blue hue over the man‘s face.
―Revelry,‖ he repeated slowly, then suddenly he knew what he had to do. ―Belial? Come,
wake from your fugue.‖ He snapped his fingers.
―Axis? What do you plan? A dance?‖ His voice was as forced as Axis‘ had been
moments earlier, but at least he was making an effort.
―A dance, Belial? If I plan a dance then we need partners. Come,‖ he gave Belial a shove
that propelled him into the mist. ―Wake those about us and we will have a night of revelry such
as Gorgrael has never seen.‖
Pray keep your heart, my friend, Axis thought as Belial stumbled into the mist. Pray keep
your heart.
Axis sat down, reached into the pack he could feel at his side, ―Ah, here you are. Well,
Gorgrael, do you know this little ditty, perhaps?‖
He struck a chord on the harp, then began to sing merrily, his voice clear and sweet,
cutting through both mist and whispers.
Belle my Wife, she loves no strife
she said unto me quietly,
Rise up and save Cow Crumbocke’s life!
man! put thy cloak about thee!
Standing among the horses, Veremund and Ogden stared at each other wide-eyed. They
had been affected by the mist, but not as badly as the Axemen.
―I thought he would have sung—‖ Ogden began, but Veremund cut him off.
―No. No, this is perfect. Anything else would have been alien to his men‘s ears. This they
know. This they can cling to.‖
―This,‖ Ogden laughed, understanding, ―they can sing along with.‖
Cow Crumbocke is a very good cow
she has always been good to the pail,
She has helped us to butter and cheese, I trow
and in other things she will not fail.
One by one men turned over in their pits. Many, like Axis, had been at the edge of
madness. Some had teetered over.
Each of them had been alone with their fears and the dreadful whispers and scrapings of
claws and beatings of wings. The mist, ghastly silver and blue and as dank and cold as a five-day
corpse, had crept beneath armour and cloaks and had edged between tightly closed eyelids.
For I would be loath to see her pine,
so therefore, good husband, hear me now
Forsake the court and follow the Plough,
man! take thine old cloak about thee!
Men grabbed onto Axis‘ voice as they would a hand reached out to save them from a
raging sea. ―Belle my wife…she loves no strife…‖ then they heard another voice, and another,
and yet another. Then they realised that they were not alone. There were others out there.
It was the ballad that linked them and that allowed courage to flow between them.
The cloud roiled and hissed and lightning shot from earth to sky, but the song went on,
and a greater chorus of voices began to sing it.
My cloak it is a very good cloak,
it has always been good to the wear,
It has cost me many a groat,
and I’ve had it this forty-four year.
The ballad, three thousand voices strong, soared into the night.
The cloud began to disperse. The lightning slowed then disappeared. Whispers faded.
Claws and wings withdrew into the night. Soon there was silence and single shreds of mist
clinging stubbornly to a few shards of grass. Then there was simply nothing but the night and
low pregnant clouds beginning to shed their load of snow.
Yet, despite the three thousand voices, Axis‘ voice still rang clear and sweet through the
night, leading the choir.
Belle my Wife, she loves no strife
she said unto me quietly,
Rise up and save Cow Crumbocke’s life!
man! put thy cloak about thee!
Some had been at the edge of madness. Some had teetered over.
But all came back.
27
TOWARDS FERNBRAKE LAKE
They left the next morning armed against the cold with clean clothes, new clothes and
boots for Yr (and even an old but serviceable cloak that had once belonged to the Goodman‘s
father), a plentiful supply of provisions, blankets, and, as promised, the trusty and sound mule to
carry their newly acquired belongings. Jack set off in the lead, his vacant expression lasting only
until they were out of sight of the Renkins‘ farmstead, his pigs trotting happily before him.
Timozel followed, leading the placid mule, and the two women brought up the rear, walking with
healthy strides now that their energies had been a little replenished. Although the snow continued
to drift down about them, the wind had abated. Nevertheless, all were aware that
mid-Bone-month was six weeks too early for snowfalls this far south. No-one spoke his name,
but the lingering menace of Gorgrael‘s threat shadowed their footsteps.
Although Faraday and Timozel had told the Goodpeople Renkin they were headed north
for one of the towns of Rhaetia, Jack slowly led them north-east towards the Bracken Ranges, the
low and narrow mountain range that divided Skarabost from Arcen. As they approached the
ranges their legs ached with the constant scrabbling up and then down low rolling hills. They met
no-one and encountered no insurmountable obstacles, although it rankled with Timozel that Jack was leading this expedition north when Artor‘s vision in the stairwell had clearly shown him to