in my arms and watched the BattleAxe walk across the cell towards us, and I thought we were
dead. But then…but then he asked to hold Shra.‖
―And you let him?‖ Pease asked, her voice angry and hostile.
―Pease, you were not there. What I saw in the man‘s eyes was compassion, not hatred. I
gave her to him. He held her for a moment, and then…then the BattleAxe of the Seneschal, the
one man we have all been taught to hate and fear without thinking, sang for her the Song of
Recreation. He recreated Shra before my eyes.‖
The Avar group were stunned into total silence now. Eyes drifted to Shra, then back to
Raum.
―My friends, I have never heard such power from an Icarii Enchanter previously. Not
even from the most powerful alive today—StarDrifter. Within the body of the BattleAxe of the
Seneschal, an Axe-Wielder, lies the soul of an Icarii Enchanter.‖
Her eyes wide and alarmed, GoldFeather battled to control the emotions within her. She
realised why it had not just been the BattleAxe‘s resemblance to Priam that had made him so
familiar. He had the facial bone structure and the eyes of an Icarii, and what GoldFeather had
first thought was the arrogance born of ignorance which festered within the Seneschal she now
recognised as the natural demeanour of an Icarii Enchanter. A crazy thought, so crazy, so
disturbing that it threatened to drive her over the edge of sanity, started to drift out of her
subconscious, but GoldFeather thrust it back into the darkness where it belonged. No! she
thought. No! I will not consider it! He died… died!
―What does this mean?‖ Barsarbe said, her small hands twisting in her lap, her eyes
distressed. ―How could this be?‖
Raum folded her hands in his own. ―This must be presented to the Yuletide Meet,
Barsarbe. The sooner both Avar and Icarii can discuss it the better.‖
Grindle nodded, but looked concerned. ―Raum, we will have to start moving for the
northern Avarinheim within a few days at the latest. Will you be able to travel?‖
Raum‘s face tightened in determination. ―I will have to manage. If you can fashion me
some crutches then I should be able to keep up with you.‖
―We could make you a sled, Raum.‖ Helm, quiet until now, spoke up. ―It would be no
trouble to pull you. The paths are clear most of the way to the north.‖
Grindle looked at his firstborn with affection and pride. ―Well done, Helm. One day you
will make a fine leader of the GhostTree Clan.‖
The lad‘s chest swelled with pride, and his sisters gazed at him admiringly. His mother
nodded, clearly proud of her son.
―Um,‖ Azhure broke in, unwilling to speak but her uncertainty about her own situation
driving her to it. ―What about me? Can I travel with you? I cannot go back to Smyrton now.‖
Grindle had allowed Azhure to stay with his Clan until Raum told his story, but her place in the
Avarinheim was still unresolved.
Barsarbe looked at her consideringly. ―Perhaps it would be best if you tell us exactly why
your villagers would not welcome you home, Azhure.‖
Azhure licked her lips, worried that the group would not understand the circumstances
surrounding her father‘s death—Barsarbe had reacted badly before when GoldFeather had
suggested that Azhure had committed violence to free Raum. Her eyes flickered about the group,
feeling their eyes upon her, feeling very alone. She turned to GoldFeather, but the woman was so
preoccupied that she offered her no comfort. ―Well, I helped Raum and Shra escape. For that
alone they would not welcome me. But,‖ Azhure looked down at her hands, unconsciously
cleaning imaginary blood from beneath her fingernails, unable for the moment to meet anyone‘s
eyes. ―But they would also not welcome me because during the escape I mistakenly caused the
death of my father, Hagen, and knocked the Axe-Wielder who was guarding Raum
unconscious.‖ Her eyes flew up again, hoping they would understand. ―I was desperate to help
Raum and Shra escape! Please, understand.‖
But her own guilt about Hagen‘s death and Belial‘s injury shone from her face and
hardened Barsarbe‘s heart.
―Wanton violence always results in heartbreak, Azhure.‖ Barsarbe‘s voice was cold.
―Your actions caused his death. Even though the act was not premeditated, it is still murder.‖
The Avar, as wild as they were, abhorred physical violence, let alone murder; any brutal
behaviour was extraordinarily rare among them.
Azhure hung her head, too ashamed to meet Barsarbe‘s eyes. ―Hagen was a violent man,‖
she tried to explain. ―He abused and maltreated me from the time my mother ran away. I did not
mean to kill him…but…I was afraid of what he would do to Shra. He…‖ She paused, unwilling
to show these people what she had never shown or spoken of to anyone else, but Azhure was
desperate to make them understand why she had taken the foolhardy actions she had. ―Look.‖ If
she had to, then she would. Her fingers started to fumble with the fastenings at the back of her
dress, and GoldFeather roused enough to push Azhure‘s fingers aside and unfasten the gown
herself. She undid the dress to Azhure‘s waist, startled at what she saw, then she folded the
material over Azhure‘s shoulders to expose her back.
―Look,‖ GoldFeather said, echoing Azhure, twisting the woman‘s upper body around
with her hands so that the others could see.
The Avar gasped in horror. Running down Azhure‘s back were the raised and red scars
that looked to be the result of years of repeated vicious beatings; running down either side of her
spine their tracks ruined her pale skin. She was marked for life. Slowly GoldFeather slid the
woollen material over Azhure‘s back again and hugged the tense woman to her for a moment. In
all the years she had known Azhure, she had never, never mentioned this to her. GoldFeather
raised her eyes to Barsarbe challengingly. ―Well?‖
Barsarbe was shocked. As a healer she had never seen anything like this. Abuse of
children was rated close to murder within Avar society, but did it justify murder?
Shra scrambled out of her mother‘s lap and toddled across to Azhure. She touched the
woman‘s forehead and then glanced back to Raum. ―Accepted,‖ she said, clearly.
Raum frowned. ―Shra? What do you mean?‖
―Accepted!‖ the child repeated, almost angrily now.
Azhure looked up, eyes still bright with the shame that the Avar had seen her back.
―After Hagen…died…Shra did the strangest thing.‖
―What?‖ Raum and Barsarbe both said together, leaning forward.
―She wiped her fingers in Hagen‘s blood and then ran them down my forehead, and then
she said, ‗Accepted‘.‖
GoldFeather looked at the two Banes. ―What does that mean?‖
―I‘m not entirely sure,‖ Raum frowned, ―but it perhaps indicates that she accepted
Azhure‘s father‘s death as a sacrifice to the Mother. It is strange. I don‘t know exactly what Shra
meant.‖
Shra walked over to stand by Azhure‘s side, regarding the rest of the group with great
dark eyes. Raum paused, and then continued. ―I do know that if it wasn‘t for Azhure then Shra
and myself would not be here now. She showed great courage in first trying to make our
imprisonment more comfortable, and then in freeing me from that hateful cell. I say, let her stay
with us for the time. She cannot go back. If the Clan wishes it, then she will have to answer to
the Yuletide Meet for the violence she has committed.‖
Barsarbe took a deep breath, considering, then she abruptly nodded. ―I will accept that
Shra has apparently approved of Azhure‘s actions, and I will accept that Azhure saved the life of
Raum. I cannot easily accept the violence she has demonstrated, however. I will support what
Raum says. Let Azhure stay with us, and she will answer to the Yuletide Meet for the death of
her father and the assault on the Axe-Wielder.‖
Grindle nodded as well. ―I accept that. You may stay with us, Azhure. Be well and
welcomed to our Clan.‖ For the first time he smiled at her, his face completely losing its normal
austerity. For whatever reason Shra had accepted Azhure, so he would too.
Azhure smiled in relief. At least she could stay with the GhostTree Clan for the time
being. ―Thank you,‖ she said. ―Thank you.‖
37
JERVOIS LANDING
After almost two weeks of travel Jack, Yr, Faraday and Timozel, plus assorted pigs, drew
within sight of Jervois Landing on the River Nordra. All were footsore and weary and more than
once tempers snapped and flared over trivial incidents.
They had travelled as inconspicuously as possible, skirting small villages and larger
towns in the dark of night, sleeping during the day in whatever shelter they could find.
Occasionally Yr had crept into a small hamlet, coming back with food to replenish their own
dwindling supplies. Faraday did not ask how she had obtained the food, but gulped it down