fixed a bright smile on her face. She breathed a quick sigh of relief. Only one man sat in here on
guard, but as that one man turned to look at her Azhure‘s relief turned into dismay. It was Belial, the BattleAxe‘s lieutenant. Azhure hid her dismay by widening her smile. She rather liked Belial,
he had a good-humoured face yet acted decisively when needed. He might not be a hero, but he
had kind hazel eyes that now crinkled at her in some puzzlement. She did not want to hurt Belial,
but she would do what she had to do to save the Avar man.
―What are you doing here at this time of night?‖ he asked, rising to his feet, puzzled but
not anxious. Good.
Azhure made a face and smiled at the child. ―She wanted to see her father, and fretted at
me for so long that I had to bring her.‖ Azhure made her face fall, and she leaned a little closer to
whisper to Belial. ―And tomorrow morning…well, I couldn‘t refuse her one last hour spent with
him, could I?‖
Belial relaxed a little. Of all the Smyrton villagers in the cellar this afternoon Azhure had
shown the most courage and independence; besides, she was very attractive. Belial was normally
a little shy around beautiful women, but Azhure did not flaunt her beauty nor seek to use it to
intimidate. He patted the child a little awkwardly on her head. ―Poor little girl.‖
―Yes, I know.‖ Azhure simply wanted to get this over and done with. She could see the
Avar man begin to stir behind the bars. He had been given water to wash and was warmly
dressed against the night cold. Good. Azhure gritted her teeth a little, this was going to be hard.
Courage, girl, she repeated to herself. You have already killed once tonight, and that a man you
called father. Surely disabling this stranger should not be a problem.
But Hagen had beaten her and abused her. Belial had done nothing but treat her with
kindness and respect and now displayed touching tenderness towards the child in her arms.
Azhure stretched her smile until she thought she must look like a grinning idiot. ―Do you think
perhaps…?‖ she said, tilting her head towards the door of the cell.
―Oh, of course,‖ Belial smiled at her. ―Let me get the keys.‖
Azhure slipped the child down onto the floor and followed Belial across the cellar. As he
bent down to pick the keys up from the stool where he had left them, Azhure pulled a fist-sized
rock from the deep pocket in her black apron. She raised it high above her head, her hand
trembling, and, just as Belial was starting to rise, she brought it down, dealing Belial a heavy
blow to the back of his skull. He twisted as he fell, his eyes registering a moment‘s surprise
before they rolled up into his head and he collapsed unmoving on the stone floor. Azhure stared
at him for a moment, unable to believe she had actually hit him. She dropped the stone beside
Belial‘s body and started to shake, raising her hands to her face. What had she done?
―Quick!‖ a voice hissed behind her. ―The keys!‖
She turned and saw the Avar man standing by the cell door, his eyes intense. ―The keys!‖
he repeated. Azhure reached across the floor to where they had fallen and slid them over to the
Avar man. He had the door open in an instant. He picked the child up and grabbed Azhure‘s arm.
―Come,‖ he said, his voice quieter now, ―you must come with me. You know that your friends
will kill you too, now.‖
Azhure nodded and stood, her legs still weak with shock. She glanced one more time at
Belial, hoping he wasn‘t dead. ―Sorry,‖ she whispered, then the Avar man was pulling her
towards the stairs.
Axis could not sleep. He had tossed and turned in his bedroll, listening to the sounds of
the night, until finally he decided that there was no use pretending he was going to sleep and
rolled out of his blankets, slipped into his clothes, strapped on his weapon belt and headed into the night.
He nodded to the perimeter guards as he passed them. He still felt troubled by the events
of the afternoon. The condition of the Avar man and child had appalled him. He had seen death
and agony many times on the battlefield, but never before had he seen such wanton cruelty. And
all in the name of the Seneschal, all in the name of Artor and the Way of the Plough. Axis had
been repelled by the blood lust in the villagers‘ eyes, and now, as he was walking through the
crisp cold air, he was repelled by the thought of the sight he would witness this morning.
He cursed himself as he wandered down the pathway approaching the Worship Hall. He
needed to talk with Belial to calm his nerves.
The moment he descended into the cellar he knew what had happened. The cell door
yawned wide and Belial lay sprawled in an unmoving heap over by the far wall. Axis crossed the
cellar in five strides and gently rolled Belial over. He was still breathing, but he had a huge lump
on the back of his head. Whoever had hit him had done a good job.
And Axis thought he knew who might have done it.
Axis took the stairs out of the cellar three at a time and ran the distance between the
Worship Hall and Hagen‘s house in the space of six heartbeats. He burst through the door
without bothering to knock. Hagen lay in a pool of blood beside the bed, a knife sticking out of
his belly. A bloodied towel lay on the table; and Azhure and the Avar girl were nowhere to be
seen. Axis cursed and checked the man‘s body—it was cool—and Axis cursed again.
He ran outside again and quickly orientated himself under the early morning sky. Azhure
and the Avar man would have run for the Forbidden Valley…and Arne had set up the
Axe-Wielders‘ camp on the opposite side of the village. There was no time to rouse their
support, and Axis refused to consider rousing the Smyrton villagers. The Forbidden Valley was
unpassable to horses, and the Avar and Azhure must be close to it by now. Axis cursed yet again,
low and vicious, as he turned and sprinted out of the village, heading northeast. Although he had
tried to save their lives, Axis thrust aside his previous sympathy for their plight and any thought
of simply letting them escape. Hagen was dead and, even more damning in Axis‘ eyes, Belial lay
assaulted and helpless after both he and Axis had trusted Azhure. His bonds and loyalties to the
Seneschal demanded that the BattleAxe take revenge for the death of the Plough-Keeper, the
assault of one of the most senior Axe-Wielders, and the escape of the Forbidden.
Axis was a strong and fit man, and once beyond the village he quickly settled into an easy
stride. The entrance to the Forbidden Valley lay less than half a league from Smyrton along flat
and easy terrain; Axis was determined to give the Avar man and Azhure a run for their pains.
Yet as he ran a small troubling voice nagged inside his head.
Why not let them escape? Why not simply say that you tried your best, and stop here, and
let them escape into the night?
Damn it! Axis thought as the disturbing question would not go away. I cannot betray my
trust to the Seneschal—it has protected me and supported me all my life.
And yet how strange that you wanted to save them from Hagen. How does that serve the
Seneschal?
Axis panted for breath as he drew closer to the Forbidden Valley. Could he admit to
himself that his guilt at earlier trying to save the Avar man and child now drove him desperately
to catch the runaways? Before they had not killed, he told himself angrily, now they have.
Was it the Avar who killed or was it the Nors woman?
She killed for them. She killed to help them. And in accepting her offer of help they
became accomplices in the murder of a Brother of the Seneschal. His blood stains their hands equally. I am doing the right thing, Axis told himself fiercely.
And how can you blame the man for taking the child and running, Axis Rivkahson, when
the Seneschal was preparing to burn him today? What threat does he pose to the Seneschal, to
Achar, that he should be burned?
He is one of the Forbidden! They are both of the Forbidden! I cannot betray the
Seneschal‘s trust in me. Now Axis‘ lungs were beginning to burn with the effort of pulling in as
much air as he could manage, and still it wasn‘t enough.