with the complicated password requirements to get them through the massive iron-plated gates of
the fort that he could do nothing. He let Faraday‘s now riderless horse go with a muttered curse
and turned back to the standing watch at the gate.
―Timozel?‖ Yr edged her horse close to Timozel‘s; she was close to exhaustion herself.
―Is she all right?‖
Timozel glanced at Yr and nodded. ―It is lucky that we arrived when we did. I doubt she
could have ridden another day.‖ He looked dispassionately at the Sentinel. ―Surely your magic could have helped her before this?‖
―I have done what I could, Timozel, but I am no healer.‖ Yr paused, her blue eyes
flickering over Timozel‘s face. ―And be careful what you say here, Timozel, your loose tongue
could have us all killed.‖
Timozel‘s face tightened, but his retort was stopped by the sound of the gates opening.
He spurred his horse after Gautier, leaving Yr standing until she could summon the strength to
kick her horse after them.
The fort was crowded with men and provisions. As Gautier reined his horse to a stop in
the centre of the courtyard a tall and powerfully built man stepped out of one of the shadowed
doorways of the Keep.
―What is going on here?‖ he shouted furiously. ―I gave orders to close those gates at dusk
and to let no-one through once they were closed for the night!‖
Gautier slid off his horse hurriedly, dropping to his knee in the muddy slush of the
courtyard at Borneheld‘s feet. ―My Lord,‖ he said a trifle breathlessly, ―it is I, Gautier. And look
what I have brought you!‖ Gautier flung his hand out dramatically behind him and Borneheld
looked towards the indistinct shadow of Timozel holding Faraday close on his horse.
Borneheld stepped past his lieutenant towards the horseman. ―What could be so
important that you could not spend the night in Gorkentown without disturbing the watch? Well,
I‘m not going to be…‖ He stopped in amazement as he reached the horse, recognising Timozel
first, and then, unbelievably, the woman he held in his arms.
―My Lord,‖ Faraday said with the last of her strength. ―I simply could not wait for you to
return to me, and so I have come here to you.‖ Then she fainted.
41
THE DUCHESS OF ICHTAR
Faraday woke close to noon the next day in an austere room, the only furniture
unadorned serviceable chests and chairs and the bed in which she lay. The walls were of
undressed stone, naked of any hangings or tapestries to relieve them of their stark lines. A single
narrow window let in dim light through its opaque glass panes.
Gorkenfort. Gradually Faraday recalled her arrival the night before, the astounded faces
of Borneheld, Earl Jorge and Duke Roland—all of whom had believed she and Timozel had died
in the earthfall at the Ancient Barrows. She dimly remembered Borneheld carrying her inside to
the fire where she had murmured the story she had told Gautier in Jervois Landing, Timozel
filling in some of the gaps. She‘d remembered, with a supreme effort, to squeeze Borneheld‘s
hand as he knelt beside her chair. Then, as she had finished speaking, everything had dimmed
again.
―Well, sweet child, do you feel better?‖
Yr was sitting on the far side of the bed. Faraday rolled over and smiled at her. Yr had
obviously managed to have the baggage containing their new clothes brought into the fort and
was dressed in a light grey woollen dress, its plain cut suitable for a maid. She had pulled her
fine blonde hair into a staid roll and her hands were folded primly in her lap, but with her
all-knowing eyes Yr looked anything but demure.
―Where are we?‖ Faraday asked, looking about. A small fire blazed in a grate along one
wall, lending some warmth and cheerfulness to the chamber.
―Nowhere but Borneheld‘s own chamber, dear one. No doubt the WarLord has had to
spend a cold night in less comfortable surroundings.‖
Faraday sat up. ―Yr,‖ she frowned, ―I can remember so little of last night. What did
Borneheld say to our story? Did he believe it?‖
Yr laughed, a throaty pleasant sound. ―Dear one, he was so astounded to find you alive
that had you claimed to have floated down to Gorkenfort on a moonbeam he would have
believed you. Now, you had better get washed and dressed so you can continue to play the part
of the lovelorn girl for his benefit.‖ Yr‘s face became serious. ―Faraday, we have no time to lose.
At the most we can be only a week or so ahead of Axis. I was talking to one of the watch last
night and he told me that the fort received word a few days ago that the Axe-Wielders had left
Sigholt and were riding for Gorkenfort. You must be married by the time he arrives. You must be
able to temper Borneheld‘s jealousy of his half-brother. Remember, Tencendor‘s fate rests…‖
―On my becoming Borneheld‘s wife, not Axis‘,‖ Faraday wearily finished for her. ―You
do not have to remind me every day.‖
Yr dropped her eyes and stood up, turning to fetch a pitcher of water that had been
warming by the fire.
Borneheld met with Earl Jorge, Duke Roland, and Lord Magariz in the stone flagged
Great Hall of the Keep. Although the Hall was not overly large for such structures it was barely
warmed by the coal fire in the massive fireplace at the end of the Hall. The great dining table was
covered with maps and reports and had been placed close to the fire; but even though they stood
in close proximity to the fire all the men needed the extra layers of clothing they had on. Timozel
stood to one side of the hearth, excited at being able to listen and occasionally advise the
deliberations of such important commanders; Axis had never asked his advice or invited him to
his consultations. Gautier stood by him, his face calm and patient. Borneheld had already
rewarded him well for escorting Faraday to his side and Gautier was feeling very hopeful for his
future prospects. The conference had been going almost an hour, and the WarLord and his three
commanders were arguing over whether or not to risk men‘s lives by sending out extra patrols,
when Faraday entered the Hall from the doorway at the far end.
Her entrance stunned the warriors into silence. The sight of a lovely woman, dressed in
an exquisite emerald and ivory silk gown that revealed more than it concealed, left them with
their mouths open and their eyes gleaming in appreciation.
Faraday smiled as she made her way gracefully towards them, her skirts rustling
musically as she moved. Thank the Mother they‘re standing by the fire rather than the other end
of the Hall, she thought to herself, not letting the smile slip from her face and tilting her head
slightly to display as much of her elegant neck as she could. Long sleeves and thick full skirts
notwithstanding Faraday was close to freezing. Still, she wanted to entice Borneheld into
marriage as quickly as possible, and she could do it better in this dress than wrapped in a thick
woollen cloak.
Faraday stopped three paces short of Borneheld and sank into a deep curtsey. ―My Lord
Duke,‖ she said, ―I am sorry if my sudden entrance has disturbed you. Say the word and I will
leave.‖
―No, no,‖ Borneheld stammered, leaning forward to take Faraday‘s hand and help her to
her feet. ―You are not disturbing us at all. Please, do not go.‖ By Artor, Borneheld breathed to
himself as Faraday rose, she‘s even more lovely than I remember. And to think that she risked her life to journey to Gorkenfort to be by my side. She is as brave as she is beautiful, he thought.
And she is mine.
Faraday stood quietly for a moment, regarding Borneheld as objectively as she could
manage. He seemed larger and more powerful than she remembered. His auburn hair was cut
even closer than before; now it was little more than a dark red shadow across his head. His grey
eyes, his best feature, glowed with approval and Faraday could see herself reflected in their
depths. He looked immeasurably pleased to see her, but was obviously struggling to find the
right words. Remembering her girlish dreams of turning Borneheld into a gentle and articulate
courtier, Faraday now wondered if he could ever be anything but the gruff and blunt fighting
man he was. She broadened her smile at him and then turned to the other men present. Best to
press the advantage of surprise home while she still held it.
―Earl Jorge, it is my deepest pleasure to see you again.‖ In past years the grey haired Earl
Jorge had twice visited her father‘s home in Skarabost and had been kind and courteous to her,
treating her with respect. She inclined her head; her position as betrothed wife to Duke