Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 2 – Enchanter

“Peace, Belial,” said the pig-herder and stopped a few paces from him. “Sigholt is yours. Use it.”

“Jack,” Belial said by way of brief greeting. “I hope you mean that. Why should I trust you?”

Jack smiled. “You have known my friends well, Belial. Through them, I know you.”

“Your friends?”

“Ogden and Veremund. My friends and my companions.”

Belial’s mouth dropped open. “You’re one of the…?”

“My task is to serve the Prophecy, Belial TrueHeart, as yours is to serve Axis.” His eyes suddenly glowed a vivid emerald.

“You’re a Sentinel!” Belial gasped, his shock making Belaguez sidestep nervously.

“Then trust me,” Jack said, as the light died in his eyes.

Belial still hesitated. “Jack. I come from Gorkenfort. I have had enough of sieges at the mercy of the Skraelings. What chance is there that once I have this army settled into Sigholt the Skraelings will lay siege to us? I have no wish to endure another Gorkenfort.”

“I understand your concern,” Jack replied. “But there are good reasons why the Skraelings would hesitate to come within leagues of Sigholt. They have destroyed Hsingard, which is not a great distance from here. Do you not think that if they destroyed Hsingard they would have destroyed Sigholt if not for very good reasons?”

“Such as?”

“Come inside, Belial, and bring your army. It is a long story.”

New Responsibilities, Old Friends

Axis stood at the open window and watched two Wings of the Strike Force wheel and somersault through the sky in a dazzling but utterly useless display of grace and fluidity.

He sighed and turned into the spacious meeting chamber. Soft light shone from concealed ceiling lamps on a massive round table of highly polished dark-green stone that dominated the room. The mottoes of the various Crests were carved in elegant gilded Icarii script into the walls above pennants and standards.

Around the stone table sat the twelve Crest-Leaders of the Icarii Strike Force, their wings draped across the gleaming floor behind their stools. Each Crest-Leader commanded twelve Wings of twelve members; the total Strike Force composed over seventeen hundred Icarii. Not overly large, Axis mused, but their flight abilities should give them the advantage over any ground force. But Axis had severe doubts about the capabilities of the Strike Force. Currently they were more gorgeously decorative than practically potent.

Axis gazed at the Crest-Leaders, all with their wings dyed in the black of war, all staring back at him flintily. He, too,

had dressed entirely in black; it was the colour he’d worn as BatdeAxe. Except now the twin crossed axes were gone from his chest. He felt naked without a badge of office.

RavenCrest SunSoar, sitting with the jewelled tore of his office glowing about his neck and his black brows meeting at an acute angle above sharp eyes, had called the Crest-Leaders together to meet Axis. FarSight CutSpur, the senior among the Crest-Leaders, had made a gracious speech of welcome. Axis had made, he hoped, an equally gracious reply. And now no-one quite knew what to say next.

Finally Axis broke the uncomfortable silence. “You have the makings of a good Strike Force. But I need to take command and shape it to make it more effective.”

Backs stiffened noticeably about the table and wings rustled in agitation. Looking each Crest-Leader in the eye as he slowly circled the table Axis continued, his voice low but intense. “Do you really think the Strike Force can harm Gorgrael in its current state?”

There were low murmurs of protest, but Axis ignored them. “You have a Strike Force, but what are its accomplishments? What its experience? Where its battle honours?” he asked. “Where its successes?”

Crest-Leader SharpEye BlueFeather suddenly pushed his stool back and stood. “Do you accuse us of failure, BatdeAxe?” he hissed, his neck feathers rising aggressively.

SharpEye’s use of this tide was an indication of the depth of ill will that some in the room bore him. For a thousand years die person and die office of BatdeAxe had been reviled and loathed among both Icarii and Avar.

Axis held die birdman’s eyes in a fierce stare. “I am Axis SunSoar,” he retorted. “And, yes, it is true, I have the experience of a successful BatdeAxe behind me. But I am BatdeAxe no longer, SharpEye. I am SunSoar born and it is with that right and heritage that I stand here today.” SharpEye dropped his eyes a fraction, and Axis shifted his gaze about the table. “Should I accuse you of failure? If not, dien inform me of your successes.”

There was a telling silence about the table. “WasYuletide a success?” Axis asked, anger creeping into his voice. “How many died, FarSight?”

“We lost several hundred, the Avar lost more.” FarSight looked steadily at Axis. “I am not proud of that, Axis Sun-Soar. But we rallied after the surprise of the initial attack.”

“You rallied after Azhure showed you how to kill!” Axis snapped. “Did not Azhure kill most of the wraiths until the Earth Tree struck? And would you have triumphed over the Skraelings if StarDrifter had not roused the Earth Tree?”

“What would you have done diflerendy, Axis?” FarSight challenged, his fists clenching.

“You gave diem a feast, Crest-Leader, with the Icarii and Avar herded tight into that grove,” Axis said. “The Strike Force should have remained in the air, FarSight, where the Skraelings could not have reached them — and where they might have actually seen the wraiths approach. What would I have done differendy? I would have had the Strike Force ready to strike, FarSight, and I would not have allowed the Yuletide rites to go ahead with so many people packed into one place waiting to be killed!”

“We could not have known the Skraelings were going to attack!” RavenCrest shouted, self-reproach raising his voice. “What?” Axis said, turning to his uncle, who subsided back onto his stool at the expression on his nephew’s face. ” What? You knew they were massing to the north of the Avarinheim. You knew that die Prophecy walked, that Gorgrael was ready to drive his Ghostmen south. What do you mean you did not know they were going to attack?”

Again there was silence for a full minute. Axis slowly shifted his gaze from face to face, knowing he had struck home. He walked back to die window and watched die Icarii manoeuvre in the sky.

“How did you lose the Wars of the Axe?” he asked finally. “How did you let yourself be driven from the southern lands? How could you let Tencendor be destroyed?”

“The Acharites – the Axe-Wielders – were too fierce,” FarSight replied grudgingly. “They hated too much. We could not withstand them.”

“I have spent years with the Axe-Wielders,” Axis said. “I was their leader for five of them. I know what they are capable of. And I know that no ground force, no matter how motivated by hatred, could do so well against an airborne force unless that force was pitifully weak to start with. You should have won the Wars of the Axe.” He paused, then repeated his words to drive his message home. “You should have won. Why didn’t you? Why?”

“We lacked the determination,” said FarSight CutSpur, almost whispering. “We were so horrified that the Acharites had actually attacked that we fled instead of fighting. We lacked the resolve. We lacked — lack — the instinct to attack and defend the instant it is needed.”

Axis nodded. “Good. Shall I tell you your other major flaw?”

FarSight, as die others in the room, stared at him levelly.

“Your Icarii pride constandy leads you to underestimate your opponents. You underestimated the ill will die Acharites bore you, which fed their desire to drive you from Tencendor. You underestimated their fierceness and their determination in doing just that. You underestimated Gorgrael’s ability to drive his Skraelings through the Avarinheim to attack the Earth Tree Grove. And most recently SpikeFeather underestimated Azhure’s ability to use die Wolven, leading to the loss of one of your most prized weapons. Have I made my point?”

FarSight CutSpur nodded once, jerkily.

“What do you use the Strike Force for, FarSight?” Just one more humiliation, Axis thought, then he would begin to rebuild dieir hopes.

“To scout, to observe and to defend.” “Then why call it a Strike Force?” Axis commented dryly. “At the moment you have a force that is incapable of defence, let alone a strike.” He paused to let it sink in, then his face and voice softened. “My friends, you have the makings of an elite force, one that could defeat any other in these lands. But at the moment you have neither the means nor the knowledge to create that elite force from the inefFective one you now have.”

Axis pulled out the spare stool and sat down among the Crest-Leaders. “You need a war leader,” he said finally. “You need me. You know that. It is why you are all here. Give me the Strike Force. Let me realise its fabulous potential. Let me turn you from birds of paradise into hawks. Killers. Don’t you want to regain your pride? To avenge Yuletide?”