Grudgingly, Timozel looked away from Axis and towards Faraday. What he saw made him step back from Axis in shock.
“Faraday, no!” he whispered in horror.
Faraday, standing straight and tall, held a large earthenware pot in her hands, and she was staring into Timozel’s eyes unflinchingly. The time had come to end this charade of Championship.
“No,” Timozel whispered again and took a step towards her.
“Stay back,” Faraday said, her voice firm. Axis stepped back himself, his eyes swinging between Timozel and Faraday. What was happening between them? The power almost blazed out of Faraday’s green eyes, while Timozel was abnormally ashen.
“I accepted your oath of Championship two years ago,” Faraday said calmly, “when I was young and friendless and going into a marriage that I knew I would loathe. I thought that you would be a friend, a support, a pillar of strength who I could lean on through difficult times. You have proved anything but, Timozel. You supported Borneheld against me, you derided me when I needed love, you lectured me on my behaviour when I needed sympathy.”
“No.” Timozel reached out his hand to her. “No, Faraday. I have only ever done what was best for you. I have only told you what you needed to hear. You have been wayward, sometimes, and a Champion’s duty is to return his Lady’s steps to the correct path.”
“I pity you, Timozel, and I grieve for you,” Faraday said slowly. “I grieve for the bright-eyed, tousle-headed boy who I met riding across the Plains of Tare. Where did you go? What happened to you? Why this brooding hulk before me now? You are no Champion of Brightness, Timozel, but a Champion of Shadow. You will wander strange borderlands until you lose your way and your soul completely.” Faraday’s eyes had glazed over until it appeared she was dreaming -even her words had the singsong quality of seer-saying.
“I have done with you, Timozel. If ever you find your way into the Light again, then wander my way, for I shall be glad to see once again the friend I have lost. Timozel. As this pot shatters,” she said very, very quietly, “so then will the ties that bind us shatter.”
She let go the pot and Timozel made a desperate dive for it. He almost made it, almost caught it, felt his fingertips graze its smooth surface the instant before it shattered into a thousand pieces across the stone floor.
“M>!” he screamed, a’nd both Faraday and Axis recoiled a little at the sound of his despair.
“So shatter the vows that bind us, Timozel. You are my Champion no longer. Begone.”
In his ice castle so far to the north Gorgrael leaned his face to the wind and screamed in pure joy. Timozel! He was his! His!
Darkness swirled about the room and threatened to overwhelm Timozel. As the pot shattered across the floor he had felt the last vestiges of the boy he’d once been shatter and disappear. No-one mourned the loss of that carefree boy more than Timozel himself. And no-one hated more than he the man he had become.
But he was unable to resist the slow darkening of his soul. Thoughts that were not his crowded his head until he felt he would shriek in despair. Memories that were not his were taking over his life. Once, once…oh, once, Timozel had woken to find himself standing at the very lip of a well, listening to the screams of the young girl he had just flung down to drown in the waters far below.
That experience had virtually driven Timozel mad.
What had he become?
What forces were trying to take over his life?
Now, as Timozel raised his tear-stained face to Faraday, he knew that he need wonder no longer. She had shattered the vows that bound him to her, and she had freed him to Gorgraels service.
“Get out,” Faraday said flatly, stepping back. “Get out of my life.”
Timozel slowly raised himself to his feet, staring at Faraday as she clutched the blue cloak around her nakedness. Had he treated her badly? Timozel had only tried to do what he thought was right.
“I’m sorry,” he said vaguely, and he was not sure if he addressed the apology to Faraday or to Axis, or to both of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and then turned on his heel and walked out of the chamber, closing the door quietly behind him.
He walked down to the courtyard, mounted the first saddled horse he could find, then rode through Carlon, tears streaking his face.
All who saw him stood back and let him pass.
Once he was past the gates of Carlon, Timozel turned his horse’s head north, for already he could feel Gorgrael’s grip tightening.
Neither Axis nor Faraday would see Timozel again for a very, very long time.
Tencendor on the Shores of Grail LakeEight days after killing Borneheld, Axis proclaimed Tencendor in a grand and emotionally charged ceremony on the shores of Grail Lake. It was later than Axis had wanted, but he had underestimated the time that he — that everyone — would need to heal after the war between himself and Borneheld. Virtually the entire population of Carlon moved to the fields that abutted the eastern shores of the Lake for the ceremony and the celebrations. Mingling with the people of Carlon (and the thousands of other Acharites who had journeyed to the city to see for themselves) were the individual members of Axis’ army: Ravensbund men and women, Acharites and Icarii. Most of the Carlonese, never strong followers of the Seneschal, had accepted the presence of the Icarii with little trouble; indeed, they had welcomed the birdmen and women into their markets. Other Acharites – especially those from the rural areas – hung back, unsure, some even sullen, but overall there was surprisingly little fuss made about the presence of the Icarii.
Embeth, feeling slightly lost and overwhelmed by the events surrounding her, and missing Judith (who had elected to remain behind in Tare), had succumbed to StarDrifter’s eyes
and insistence and now shared an apartment in the palace with him. Embeth knew their affair would fade and die in the days or weeks ahead, but she desperately needed something, someone, to cling to. Soon, perhaps, she would move back to Tare. There was nothing left for her here. Her two youngest children were now married and lived far to the west; and Timozel… Timozel had vanished. Embeth turned her back on the excited crowd and slowly began to walk back to Carlon.
On the night of the duel, Azhure spent the entire time pacing the eastern shore of Grail Lake, watching the dawn gather, waiting, waiting, waiting. When the golden standard was finally run up the flagpole above the palace, Azhure had broken down and wept, both with relief and with wretchedness, because she knew she had finally lost Axis to Faraday.
Azhure was more than a little bit nervous about today’s ceremony. She had not seen Axis since he had rowed off into the night to face Borneheld, although she had heard most of what had happened from Belial. Today she would see him -and Faraday. She had heard that the woman had spent the past eight days laughing with joy – and why shouldn’t she? She had spent those eight days with Axis.
And the problem of her pregnancy increased Azhure’s nervousness. Axis had sent word that he wanted Azhure richly dressed today — and in a gown he’d had made for her. Azhure was now moving into her fifth month of pregnancy, and even though Icarii babies were small, this one bulged more than Caelum had at the same stage. Well, Azhure smiled a little bitterly, a gown it would be. She would no longer hide her growing pregnancy behind the armour of tunic and mail.
The rich, dark red material of the gown set off Azhure’s pale complexion and blue eyes perfectly, and Imibe threaded tiny seed pearls through Azhure s hair to match the pearls that had been stitched into the gown. It was a noblewoman’s gown, and Azhure stared at her reflection for a long time once Imibe had finished dressing her hair.
She heard a step, and a rose- and gold-brocaded Ysgryff entered to escort Azhure to the ceremony. Over the past eight days no-one had spent more time with Azhure than YsgryfT. He had spent his evenings with her, making her laugh, despite her sad-heartedness, with his stories of life among the Nors capital of Ysbadd and his early years spent sailing with the pirate ships of Pirates’ Nest. In those hours when he sensed that Azhure simply needed companionship, Ysgryff would sit quietly, watching the fire crackle, perhaps scratching the head of one of the Alaunt.
Ysgryff complimented Azhure on her appearance, then stared at her belly for a long moment. “If you need anything, Azhure, anything, then ask me,” he said, taking her elbow. “Axis is a fool ten-times over that he does not take you for his wife.”