striking golden streak through her silver hair. Her manner was courtly and her voice gracious,
her grey eyes calm and her demeanour composed even as she faced a man who could kill her
with a single twist of his sword. What was such a woman doing running with the Forbidden?
―I would return the blessing,‖ he said flatly, ―except that Artor would surely have
deserted any woman who runs with the Forbidden many years ago.‖
The woman‘s eyes hardened at his tone. The Axe-Wielders always thought they knew
everything, and this BattleAxe seemed more arrogant than the one she had known in her youth.
Why hadn‘t he killed Raum? Why was he hesitating?
―Does Artor demand Raum‘s life?‖ she asked softly, deliberately giving the BattleAxe
the Avar man‘s name. It was always harder to kill a man whose name you knew than a complete
stranger. ―What has Raum done to deserve to die at the point of your sword?‖ Axis‘ face
tightened, and GoldFeather could see that doubts did indeed beset him. ―I do not know all of
what has passed this night, but Azhure‘s words make me think that any violence was done at her
hands. Do not murder this man to atone for her wrongs.‖
―I am the BattleAxe of the Brotherhood of the Seneschal. I have a duty to serve the
Seneschal,‖ Axis said, but his tone suggested that he needed to convince himself more than he
needed to convince either GoldFeather or Raum.
―No,‖ GoldFeather said very softly. ―You need do only what your heart tells you is right.
Not what the Seneschal has taught you must be done. Your duty should always be to do what you
feel is right.‖ She paused. ―Does it feel right to hold that blade to Raum‘s neck, an honoured and
honourable man among his own people, when he has done you and yours no wrong?‖
Her words provoked a strange reaction in the BattleAxe. He winced at her last phrase.
―But who are mine? Who are my people?‖ Axis whispered, his eyes swivelling back to
Raum.
GoldFeather frowned. What was he whispering? The BattleAxe raised his head and
looked back at her. His eyes were tormented. ―Lady, do you know of the Icarii?‖
She nodded slowly, surprised by the question, troubled by the expression on the
BattleAxe‘s face. ―I know them well.‖
―Then answer me this. Do they sing?‖
GoldFeather‘s eyes deepened with memory and she smiled. ―Yes,‖ she said. ―They sing
magically. It is their gift to this land and to the stars. All Icarii sing, music courses through their
blood, but their Enchanters sing with the power and the grace of the stars themselves.‖
The BattleAxe‘s face twisted with emotion. GoldFeather stepped forward to place a hand
on his arm. But he flinched and tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword and she paused
instantly, her hand left hanging in the air.
―Who am I?‖ he whispered in a tormented voice. ― What am I?‖
GoldFeather opened her mouth, but did not know what to say to comfort him. Axis stared
at her a moment longer, then abruptly he stepped back from Raum and, lifting the sword from
Raum‘s neck, jabbed the point of the blade into the dirt, leaning on it heavily.
―Go, Raum,‖ he said, his voice now tired and colourless. ―I have no right to hold you. Go
now.‖
Raum rose slowly from the ground, his neck bloody and his face ashen from the pain of
his shattered ankle. GoldFeather bent down and helped him rise to his feet, taking most of his
weight on her shoulder. They turned and started to hobble for the Avarinheim, but at the tree line
Raum paused and turned back to the BattleAxe.
Axis was still standing, sword resting on the ground as he watched him, his face tired and
drained of emotion, his eyes unreadable. Jack and Yr had told Raum of Faraday‘s love for this
BattleAxe, and at the time Raum had been deeply troubled by it. He had questioned Jack and Yr
closely about the BattleAxe, but they were reluctant to say anything about the man beyond that
Faraday loved him. Since he had seen this man sing, seen him recreate Shra‘s life, Raum could
understand why Faraday felt as she did. Raum was also deeply aware that he was twice indebted
to this man for his and Shra‘s lives.
―For the gift of two lives I give you one life back,‖ Raum called, his voice clear above the
roar of the river, ―and I will hold one to give you later.‖ He paused. ―Faraday lives.‖ Then he
turned and he and the woman disappeared into the trees of the Avarinheim.
34
GHOSTTREE CLAN
Within ten paces of stepping into the Avarinheim Azhure felt as though she had entered
another world. All her life she had been taught that forests were places of fear, dark and
impenetrable shadows that harboured wraiths who would suck you dry of your blood. Yet
Azhure‘s first impression of the Avarinheim as she walked more slowly down the path before
her, was of space, light and music. On either side of her, ancient evergreen trees reared towards
the sky, the trunks straight and smooth for the first fifteen or twenty paces of their height before
their limbs branched out. The entire effect was to draw the eye upward towards the canopy
above, towards the light filtering down through the interlacing green leaves and vines. The
shrubs and bushes that spread across the forest floor were low and colourful. With the lack of
low branches or high undergrowth the Avarinheim was filled with space and fragrance, cool light
and soothing music rather than the unnatural and evil atmosphere that the Seneschal preached
pervaded the Shadowsward. Azhure‘s arms relaxed about Shra as she walked a few more steps
into the forest, drawn by its beauty. It took her some minutes before she realised what the music was. In the background she could hear the crystal sounds of the Nordra as it tumbled over rocks
nearby, with a dozen different birdsongs overlaying its sounds. Azhure smiled, her eyes filled
with wonder. Acharites barely knew the beauty of birdsong as most species of birds had retreated
before the axe. The songs of the sparrows and ravens of everyday life in Achar could not
compare with the sounds that now filled Azhure‘s ears.
Azhure shook herself. The Avar man still fought for his life beyond the trees, and she had
to get Shra to her father. Perhaps then she could return to help the man and GoldFeather.
She walked briskly down the path, and within a few steps a man, as muscular and
swarthy as Shra‘s companion but with grey streaked through his dark brown hair, suddenly
leaped out of some purple flowering winterberry bushes to Azhure‘s right where he had been
crouching and tore Shra from Azhure‘s arms.
Azhure gasped in shock and stepped back. The man had stopped some four or five paces
from her, clutching Shra protectively to his chest, his dark eyes fierce, his entire body tense and
ready to fight if need be. He was dressed in a similar tunic woven from wool and dyed a dark red
with patterns of interlaced tree branches at its hem. Underneath he wore serviceable brown
leggings, bound with leather thongs, and ankle-high leather boots. Shra cried out with delight
when she saw the man, and then snuggled as close to his chest as she could.
Azhure spread her hands to try and look as non-threatening as possible. The man had no
idea what was going on, and as far as he was concerned she was one of the hated Acharites who
had strayed into the Avarinheim, carrying his daughter. No wonder he looked tense.
―I mean no harm,‖ Azhure said as reassuringly as she could, although she was scared by
the man. What if he decided that she posed a threat?
The man‘s eyes narrowed still further and he took a step backwards. Azhure‘s head
swivelled to her right as her eyes caught a new movement. A slim, dark-haired woman stepped
out from behind a tree. She was much shorter than Azhure, and dressed in a long pale yellow
robe, again subtly patterned at the hem, but this time with leaping deer like Raum‘s robe. While
she was obviously wary of Azhure‘s presence, she still exuded power and confidence and
stepped up to the man‘s shoulder.
―Grindle,‖ she said softly, laying a small and delicate hand on his shoulder, ―I think it is
all right. Shra seems well and unafraid of this woman.‖ She turned her eyes to Azhure. ―I am
Barsarbe, Bane of the Avar people.‖ She inclined her head gracefully, but her eyes demanded an
explanation from Azhure regarding her presence in the Avarinheim with the child Shra in her
arms.
If anything, Azhure was more afraid of this small woman than she was of the man,
Grindle, but she tilted her chin and tried to sound as confident and relaxed as this woman before