become my Champion. His oath breaks all others that went before.‖
―And now he has pledged himself to my service,‖ Borneheld said smoothly, revelling in
his triumph.
All the tension went out of Axis‘ body and he suddenly laughed mirthlessly, his
shoulders sagging. ―Champion,‖ he chortled, the sound so dreadful that Faraday flinched
inwardly although she managed to keep the pleasant smile on her face. ―Champion. Now I have
heard everything. Well, at least this new Champion has managed to cut his hair and grow a beard
since I saw him last. Just tell me, Faraday,‖ he said, turning back to her and dropping the
dreadful smile from his face. ―Why did you not let us know that you were all right? Why…why
come here?‖
Faraday knew what he was asking. More than anything else she wanted to run to him and
ease the pain in his eyes, reassure him that she still wanted him more than life itself. But that she
could not do. ―I came here because I wanted nothing more than to be Borneheld‘s wife as
quickly as possible, BattleAxe. I had…I had no thought that you might be worried for me.‖ And
please Mother let him see the lie in my eyes, she pleaded silently. Please Mother make him
realise that what I did, I did for him.
Axis stared at her for a long moment, his wretchedness and misery plain for all to see. He
watched Faraday, watched her held within the circle of Borneheld‘s arms, watched the knowing
smirk stretch across Borneheld‘s face and the apparently contented smile on Faraday‘s own, and
finally he could take no more. He turned on his heel and, pushing past Timozel, walked towards
the far doorway, every movement of his body stiff with anguish.
Borneheld‘s triumphant laughter followed him out the doorway.
43
THE SKRAEBOLD SPEAKS
Axis wheeled Belaguez around in a tight circle, his eyes scanning the snowfields about
them. They had ridden out into the blessedly clear morning some two hours ago and now they
were almost two leagues deep into the flat snow plains that stretched north from Gorkenfort. One
league further to the north-west lay the River Andakilsa, now so dangerous it was impassable to
shipping; Gorkenfort was cut off from the sea. To the north-east rose the Icescarp Alps, much,
much closer now than at Sigholt, most of their black peaks lost in the clouds. Axis stared at
them, narrowing his eyes to cut out as much of the glare from the flat snowfields as he could.
The Alps rose abruptly from the flat plains, the massive mountains scarred with towering cliffs
and deep crevices of black rock and ice.
―It is said that life is so barren within the Icescarp Alps that even the rivers are of ice.
When I was first assigned to Gorkenfort an old shepherd told me that once he had driven his
flocks so close to the base of the mountains that he could hear the rivers groaning and splintering
their way through the passes,‖ Magariz said quietly from behind Axis.
Axis turned around. Magariz had insisted on riding out with him, saying only when both
Borneheld and Axis had tried to stop him that it was foolish to send out a Patrol Leader
inexperienced in the ways of the snowfields and the wraiths without an experienced backup. His
injuries did not hinder him on horseback, although Axis noticed that occasionally he raised a
gloved hand to the scar on his cheek.
Behind Magariz rode Belial, Arne and the rest of the patrol, some fifteen men composed
of Axe-Wielders and regular mounted soldiers. Axis had been coldly angry with Belial, arguing
that his second-in-command had no right to be risking himself too. But Belial merely listened
passively to Axis‘ arguments, then mounted his horse. Belial had seen Axis‘ reaction to Faraday
the night before, had known that Axis had spent a sleepless night wrapped in his cloak on top of
the battlements gazing silently towards the Icescarp Alps. He‘d known Axis felt something more
for Faraday than simple attraction, but he hadn‘t realised that emotions ran so deep. He was not
going to stay behind and eat his heart out with worry wondering if his possibly suicidal
BattleAxe would return from his patrol.
Arne had similarly ignored Axis‘ protests and his usually dour expression was now
frozen even more firmly into place by the cold. For many weeks now, ever since they had ridden
out of the Silent Woman Woods, Arne had been driven to protect Axis, to watch his back, to
scan the faces of those about him for subtle signs of treachery. He was beginning to suspect
many people about Axis, and sometimes his face broke out in a sweat of frantic anxiety if he saw
Axis surrounded by too many unknown people.
Borneheld had been deeply satisfied when both Belial and Arne mounted their horses
despite Axis‘ protests; the BattleAxe‘s authority seemed to be splintering about him. Borneheld
did not realise that both Belial and Arne disregarded Axis‘ anger, and even his orders, simply
because they would prefer to die for him than see him die before them. Borneheld would have
been hardpressed to expect similar devotion from Gautier.
All the patrol were dressed in shades of white and light grey; even Axis had discarded his
usual black uniform for the grey and white of the Axe-Wielders. No-one wanted to make
themselves any more conspicuous than possible. All were armoured under their cloaks, even
though armour was not always effective against the wraiths. Despite the cold, cloaks were kept
well clear of sword hilts and axe hafts. Fingers were constantly flexed within gloves to keep
them as warm and as limber as possible. All were tense and alert.
Five of the men carried burning brands. Magariz gave them terse instructions as they rode
across the frozen snow, while Axis make sure they were as compact a group as possible. ―Fire will sometimes make the wraiths think twice about attacking, but if there are large numbers of
them it won‘t stop them‖ said Magariz. ―If it comes to a fight, remember this. The wraiths have
little flesh and blood, but they are vulnerable through their Artor-cursed silver eyes. Strike them
cleanly through those orbs and you will kill them. As pale as they are, when you burst those orbs
they bleed red blood as profusely as any man stuck through the gut.‖
He paused to let the men absorb this then continued, ―And remember, they go for your
face and throat, or sometimes your hands and wrists. Those are the parts of you that are most
exposed. They smell flesh, and they hunger for it. They have the sharpest teeth, as long and as
pointed as the man-eating fish that follow the ships in the Andeis Sea. Once they have fastened
themselves into your flesh nothing will save you.‖
Magariz watched the unease, particularly among the Axe-Wielders, none of whom had
yet experienced attack by these wraiths. ―But they also feed on fear, gentlemen. If you can
remain calm when under attack then you will have a chance. Do not let yourselves be
overwhelmed by panic. Panic, unreasoned fear, will kill you quicker than a spreading fire will
consume a swaddled infant left by the hearth.‖ He gave a harsh bark of laughter. ―Stay calm? A
tall order, comrades, when you are attacked by such nightmarish creatures.‖
―They seem to be becoming more substantial,‖ Magariz continued, ―as if, having fed on
so much flesh and blood, they are recreating their own bodies from those they have slaughtered.‖
Axis glanced sharply at the man: his words stirred some dim thought at the back of his mind, but
it evaded his attempts to catch it. Magariz‘s own gloved hand now fingered the hilt of his sword.
―Over the past weeks more and more of our patrols have been attacked.‖
Magariz was silent for a moment before he spoke again, reluctantly. ―But the wraiths are
not the worst you will face, my friends. Increasingly bands of the wraiths are led by the creatures
that attacked Gorkenfort and the Retreat in Gorkentown.‖
They rode silently for another half an hour, each man wrapped in his own thoughts. Artor
help those Ravensbundmen still left alive in these frozen wastes, Axis thought to himself. I
would not want to venture more than a half day‘s gallop any further north from Gorkenfort. He
pulled his cloak a little closer, careful to leave his sword hilt free. A soft mist was drifting down
from the north, and the wind was now damp as well as cold.
―BattleAxe! Beware!‖ Magariz hissed suddenly, and Axis glanced at him sharply. The
man was rigid on his horse and had drawn his sword; ―Remember, they attack from mists such as
this!‖
Swords rattled out of scabbards and the five men holding the burning brands hoisted them
a little higher. The horses skittered across the snow, their riders‘ increased nervousness