Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 2 – Enchanter

“Let us go and strike the final blow for Tencendor,” he said quiedy. “Let us go and finish this.”

When Axis strode into the Chamber of the Moons, the eagle hopping in agitation on his arm, the torchlight caught at his golden tunic and hair, making all who looked at him blink -some in wonder, some in fear, and at least one in love.

He is so different, so changed, so much more powerful than when I first saw him enter this Chamber, Faraday thought, rising to her feet as Axis stared across the Chamber of the Moons at her. He strides through the doors like a golden god and yet still he has my heart as helpless as that first night I saw him so long ago. Her eyes travelled over the golden tunic with its blood-red blazing sun and matching red breeches. And blinked.

A bloodied sun hanging over a golden field.

For an instant her hand hovered about her throat as the vision threatened to overwhelm her again. She managed to regain control, and dropped her hand, her eyes calm.

Axis stood a moment, glancing about the Chamber, his eyes finally coming to rest on Faraday standing tall and beautiful before the dais, Borneheld sitting motionless behind her. With a movement so abrupt it brought gasps from all who witnessed, Axis threw the eagle into the air. Eyes followed the silver and white bird as it soared into the dome of the Chamber, coming to rest on a ledge far above.

Faraday’s eyes fluttered to the eagle. Feathers?

Feathers! She felt as if she were choking on feathers!

She took a deep breadi, and dropped her eyes.

All eyes were now on the golden man standing in the centre of the Chamber before them.

“The traitors,” Borneheld said calmly, evenly, by way of introduction. He had not risen from the throne. “Here they are, Jayme, all together in one room. All walking with their treachery open for all to see. Open for all to note.”

Jayme stood some eight or nine paces behind the throne, virtually lost in the shadows. He looked gaunt and grey, and a palsy rippling rhythmically across his cheek gave him a slight air of insanity.

His eyes caught with Axis’, and if Jayme had thought that Axis might still retain some measure of compassion, perhaps even love, for him, then Jayme quickly realised that all Axis now felt for him was loathing and contempt.

Jayme was so lost in Axis’ eyes that he did not see Rivkah move quietly into the Chamber behind her son. For the first time in thirty-four years the Princess Rivkah had returned to the home of her youth. She took a deep breath, looked between her sons, then gazed about the Chamber. Prophecy. Her life and those of her sons had been manipulated by the Prophecy. Every time she thought she was free of its grips, she realised it continued to manipulate and use her as it willed.

Those entering with Axis moved quietly to join the watchers about the pillars of the Chamber, and even Faraday moved away from the dais so that the brothers could face each other. She gave Axis a smile, but his eyes only flickered quickly over her. His entire attention was reserved for his brother.

The Chamber rang unth shouted accusations of murder and treachery.

“The traitor sits the throne,” Axis’ voice cried out. “Borne-held, I accuse you of FreeFall SunSoars murder. I accuse you of our uncle’s murder. I accuse you of ordering the murder of thousands of innocent men, women and children in Skarabost. You have murdered your last, Borneheld, and now it is time to let the gods pass judgement on your crimes.”

Borneheld rose to his feet. “A fight, brother? Is that what you want?” he cried. “And yet you come to me surrounded with your tricks and your enchantments. I am an Artor-fearing man, Axis. A plain soldier. How can I compete with your enchantments? Your sorcery?”

“I stand before you as your brother, Borneheld. Tonight I will not be an Icarii Enchanter. I will come to you only with my sword. We will stand evenly matched for gods and for prophecies to choose which has the right to live, and which the right to die.” With an abrupt motion Axis twisted the Enchanter’s ring from his right hand and tossed it across the Chamber to StarDrifter.

When Faraday saw the ring glint through the air she cried out, her composure finally breaking. “No!” The thought that Axis would face Borneheld only with his sword appalled her – and again Faraday saw the blood dripping from Axis’ hair and felt the soft trickle of blood down her breasts. She moved as if to run to Axis, but a strong arm caught her about the waist. Jorge.

“Let him be,” he said. “Borneheld and Axis must end this. Here. Finally.”

“No,” Faraday wailed again, twisting against Jorge’s arm. The vision of the trees overwhelmed her, and now she was afraid, dreadfully afraid, that what they had shown her (were showing her) had been (was) the truth. Axis would die here tonight, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “No,” she whispered, as Axis glanced her way. “Axis, no.” She saw Borneheld, stepping down from the throne. Borneheld took a step away from his throne, his sword raised before him.

Slowly Axis unbuttoned the golden tunic and threw it to Belial. It was a beautiful tunic, and he did not want it rent, or stained with blood. He rolled up the sleeves of his white linen shirt above his elbow, then, in a quick movement so fluid most could hardly follow it, drew his sword from the scabbard at his side.

“Borneheld,” he said, and his brother leaped from the dais towards him and into fate and vision.

Time passed, and its passage was marked only by the ringing of steel through the Chamber of the Moons.

Dreadfully, inexorably, caught by fate, Axis and Borneheld fought as the vision of the Silent Woman Woods had foretold and Faraday’s face crumpled in despair. Although she strained against Jorge’s arms to be free, reaching into the centre of the Chamber, he was too strong for her. She wept, terrified by what she saw unfolding before her. In the centre of the Chamber the two men circled, each bloodied with small stinging wounds, swords drawn, faces twisted into snarling masks of rage fed by long-held hatreds. How long had they been fighting? How many blows had they traded? How many times had one slipped, the other lunging for the kill, only for the other to roll aside just in time to escape the sword thrust? Faraday did not realise that she whispered Axis’ name over and over as she continued to struggle feebly against Jorge’s arm. Her slim fingers twisted the Ichtar ruby around the knuckle of her heart finger until the skin broke and bled.

Apart from Faraday’s movements and whispers, there was no other movement or sound in the Chamber of the Moons save those of the men fighting. Magariz stood behind Rivkah, his hands on her shoulders, lending her support as she witnessed the death struggle between her two sons. No matter how much Rivkah had disowned Borneheld, no matter how much she claimed to despise him, Magariz knew that she would not be able to watch his death without pain.

Rivkah’s attention was caught by the scene in front of her. Both her sons had grown to be skilful warriors. Borneheld fought with muscles and tactics honed by battle, Axis with the grace and fluidity bequeathed him by his Icarii father. Borneheld s size and the gold circlet about his brow lent him authority, Axis’ white and scarlet-clad form imbued him with an almost ethereal beauty.

StarDrifter realised that the sound of the swords clashing and scraping along each other, the sounds of the men’s heavy breathing and of their boots scuffing across the green marble floor, made a music unlike any he had ever heard before. It was a strange music, dark and foreboding, and StarDrifter’s eyes widened as he realised he was listening to an echo of the Dance of Death, of the Dark Music of the Stars. Had this duel been choreographed by WolfStar? Was he here, watching? StarDrifter’s eyes ran anxiously about the Chamber, but could see nothing beyond the dim figures of those who encircled the Chamber. Did WolfStar watch with the eyes of that courtier? Or perhaps the stableboy beyond? StarDrifter returned his eyes to Borneheld and Axis. That they fought to the sounds of the Dark Music worried him more than anything else – why was the Prophecy using Dark Music to work its will? Was there no place for the Star Dance tonight?

Time passed, and its passage was marked only by the ringing of steel and the scuff of the combatants’ boots on the marble floor. Unknowingly, StarDrifter had begun to sway from side to side rhythmically, to sway from side to side with the beat of the Dance of Death.