Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 2 – Enchanter

But even overgrown as they were, the trails were beautiful. The lofty forest canopy sheltered them from the northern winds and let in a delicate soft golden light. As they walked the forest spoke to them in endless music – the secretive sounds of the wind as it moved through the trees and bushes, the soft drip of moisture from leaves, the cascades of streams as they rushed towards the Nordra River and the ever changing song of the forest birds. And weaving its way through both light and music came the wondrous sound of the Earth Tree Song, binding all under her mystery.

Veremund and Ogden enjoyed the two women’s company. They were serene and restful companions, and walking with them through the Avarinheim over the past two days had proved a gentle joy. It had been some two thousand years since either Sentinel had walked the forest paths, and then the Avarinheim had stretched over most of the lands east of the Nordra River. Now, only the forest protected by the Fortress Ranges remained inviolate — from either Seneschal or Gorgrael.

“Veremund?” Rivkah caught up to Veremund and Azhure. “Ogden has a problem with his donkey. Her off fore foot has a small stone in it and Ogden wants you to hold her head while he removes it.”

Veremund nodded his thanks and turned back.

Rivkah took Azhure’s arm as the two women drew away from the Sentinels. About them the filtered light was alive with butterflies and birdsong.

“Azhure,” Rivkah said. “I am glad we finally have a chance to speak.” She could feel Azhure tense a little under her hand. “I am not speaking of wrong or right, Azhure, only of what you feel. After all,” she smiled wryly, “I am the last to apportion blame to women who find themselves the target of an Enchanter’s attentions.”

“I did not intend to do it,” Azhure said, her tone slightly defiant. “I do not mean to get in the way.”

Rivkah let her arm go and gave Azhure a brief hug. “Azhure, it is very hard to love an Enchanter. That is all I want to say. If ever you need to talk, then I will be here.”

“I know, Rivkah.” Azhure paused. “Axis loves Faraday. I know that, and I can accept it. But…”

“But…?” Rivkah thought she knew what Azhure would ask.

“But, noble or not, Faraday is a woman like me. Wouldn’t she and Axis have the same problems as you and StarDrifter did? As Axis and I would? Wouldn’t she age and die well before he?”

“Azhure.” Rivkah’s tone was very gentle. “From what we have heard of Faraday and the Mother, she is no longer quite as human as either you or I. Perhaps she will live as long as Axis. Perhaps she will be able to hold him, to satisfy him where a human woman could not.”

“It was one night. Do not fear for me. I can walk away.”

“I hope you can, Azhure,” Rivkah said. “Axis has his father’s blood coursing through his veins. He is a powerful Icarii Enchanter. He will be back one day – can you walk far enough before then?”

Behind them Ogden and Veremund bent over the patient donkey’s foot, finally letting the unblemished hoof drop to the ground.

“He spent Beltide night with her,” Ogden said quietly.

“He has spent nights with many women,” Veremund replied.

“This was different. She is different.”

“Yes,” Veremund finally, grudgingly, said. “Yes, she is. What does this mean for the Prophecy?”

Ogden sighed and gazed up the forest path where the women walked. “Who knows, dear one? Who knows? There is so much we don’t know. So much the Prophet left unsaid.”

“She is a complication.”

“Yes,” Ogden agreed.

“But I like her, Ogden. I like her.”

“Yes,” Ogden agreed again. He knew what Veremund meant. Neither could help liking Azhure because both felt intuitively that she was already an old friend. But how?

“She has a power about her, dear one,” Veremund said. “But it is covered with a thick blanket of fear.”

Ogden looked at his brother sharply. “You are very perceptive, Veremund. I had not noticed that, but now that you mention it… Yes, you are right. Is she a danger?”

“A danger? I had not thought of her that way. A danger? Perhaps, but I do not know who to.”

“What do we do?” Veremund said eventually. “I do not know what to do about her.”

Ogden clucked to his donkey. “What do we do? We do nothing, dear one, but watch. Wait. Serve, in whatever manner presents itself.”

“She has the qualities of a hero, dear one,” Veremund murmured. “One day she will overcome that blanket of fear and step forward to demand her birthright.”

Both remained silent and introspective until they had caught up with Rivkah and Azhure. Then, smiling mischievously, Ogden started to tell the two women of a tale he had once heard of two shepherds, a goat and a saucepan.

The next morning they came to the foot of the Fortress Ranges.

“Well?” Rivkah demanded. “Where is this secret way of yours, Ogden? Veremund?”

“A little way from here. But it will take most of the morning to climb down into the tunnel.”

“Tunnel?” Azhure echoed doubtfully, but the two Sentinels had already started down a barely marked trail.

The Sentinels led the two women into a citvice at the base of the nearest of the hills. For two or three hours they scrambled down, descending deeper and deeper into the gloom. After some time the soft light of the Avarinheim forest disappeared altogether, and Ogden produced a small oil lamp from his donkey’s pack.

“We shall not need it for long,” he remarked, and both women glanced at each other in concern. Neither liked the idea of climbing any further into this crevice. Where were the Sentinels leading them? If the way grew any steeper then they would not be able to take die donkeys any further.

“The wont is behind us, my sweet ladies” called Ogden. “We are almost there.”

“I am not so sure that I wish to know where ‘there’ is,” Azhure grumbled. Her limbs were stiff and sore and she had pulled a muscle in her left leg.

The next moment she breathed in relief as the slope eased.

“Where are we?” Rivkah asked breathlessly as they stepped onto a smooth gravel path. Ogden’s lamp showed very little apart from the nearest rocks in what appeared to be a narrow crevice. Even though they knew it was only midday, it appeared darkest night. “Where will this lead us?”

“Into a mystery, dear lady,” Ogden said.

Veremund stepped back and placed a reassuring hand on each woman’s shoulder. “It is quite safe, and will be clean and dry and light soon. Bear with Ogden. He does like a mystery.”

Ogden led the party behind a jumble of rocks. Before them, beyond the comforting glow of the lamp, stretched total darkness. Then stunningly, Ogden doused his lamp and complete darkness enveloped the group.

“Watch, dear ones!” he cried. “Watch!” and the two women sensed him moving forward.

There was a soft click, and suddenly a soft yellow light glowed at ankle level. Both Rivkah and Azhure gasped. Ogden was stepping forth onto a smooth, black metallic roadway. With every fourth or fifth step he took another light clicked softly on. Some at ankle level, some over his head. As Ogden skipped ahead in delight, a long straight tunnel was revealed, stretching forward until it was lost in the darkness. Yellow lines ran down the centre of the tunnel roadway.

Ogden’s donkey patiendy followed her master.

“What is it?” Rivkah asked Veremund, her arms wrapped about herself protectively.

“Who built it?” Azhure demanded. “When? How do the lights work? What is this tunnel doing here? What is this black shiny stuff that coats the surface of die floor?”

“All Ogden and I know,” Veremund replied, “is that this tunnel exists, and others like it in various parts of Tencendor — we use diem from time to time. They are old, very old, and we do not know who built them. Come.” He stepped after the fast disappearing Ogden, and, after only a moment’s hesitation, the women followed.

Behind them, precisely ten minutes after they had passed, the lights clicked off one by one.

The tunnel ran deep into the earth. For the rest of the day they descended a gentle gradient before the roadway finally levelled out. There Ogden announced they would rest briefly before continuing.

“We have no comfortable mats and no Enchanter to create magical mattresses of air for us,” explained Ogden to the tired women, who protested they needed longer to rest. “Within only a few hours you will become so uncomfortable on this hard surface that you will be only too pleased to move again.”

“Besides,” Veremund added. “I admit that I yearn for the night sky and the fresh air again. Safe and convenient this tunnel may be, but it is monotonous and sterile and it gives my soul no joy.”