Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 2 – Enchanter

They took several hours to die as the weight of their bodies augmented by the lead weights pulled their chests apart, their lungs slowly filh’ng with blood, and they did not die quietly or prettily. Axis stood there the entire time, his face expressionless. He wondered what, if anything, the GateKeeper would say to them as they approached. Perhaps, knowing their crimes, they went through a different Gate to the one Axis had seen.

“A salutary lesson,” he whispered as the last of the men gurgled and died.

Baron Ysgryff’s Surprise

From Arcen, Axis moved his army towards the Ancient Barrows at the boundary of Tarantaise and Arcness. Though exhausted by the exercise of so much power at Arcen, Axis had not wanted to delay. Time was slipping through his grasp, and day after day as they rode south Axis’ eyes would drift to the eagle soaring above.

It would be a long time before the people of Arcen would forget the sight of the ghostly souls crying out Burdel’s name in accusation, and five thousand of Arcen’s militiamen had begged Axis for permission to join his force. Let them make what restitution they could for Burdel, they argued, and Axis had reluctantly accepted their offer.

For the first two days after Arcen, Azhure rode silently by Axis’ side. She had been physically nauseated by Burdel’s death and Axis was concerned for her. But Azhure had kissed him and told him that she would be well, and had stayed close to Axis because she was so worried about his health. Both she and Rivkah had seen how damaging the power of the Star Dance had been on his body and how injurious the sight of the dead souls crying out his name had been on his spirit. Axis had felt responsible for so many of those who had died, and his conscience troubled him sorely. If he’d moved south faster, could he have saved a few of those who’d cried out his name?

No wonder he had been so harsh on Burdel, Azhure reflected, hoping he’d never turn on her with such cold anger.

A day out of the Ancient Barrows two of the Icarii farflight scouts returned with appalling news.

“An army awaits you the other side of the Ancient Barrows, Axis SunSoar,” one of the scouts reported, his wings trailing dismally in the grass behind him. “Perhaps some eight thousand, maybe nine thousand, in strength …”

“Mounted men,” the other scout broke in. “Fully armoured, both riders and horses. Equipped with lances, pikes, swords. They stand like a wall of steel, waiting for you to emerge from the Barrows.” “Who?” Axis asked sharply.

The two scouts described the pennants that the army flew, and Axis glanced at Belial and Magariz to his side.

“Barons Ysgryff of Nor and Greville of Tarantaise,” Magariz said. “Borneheld must have positioned them there to delay our passage across Tarantaise and the Plains of Tare.”

Axis nodded and sat back in his saddle. Nine thousand men? Axis’ force now numbered over twenty-two thousand, but a heavily armoured force of nine thousand would be more than a nuisance. This time, he thought bleakly, I’ll have no choice but to use the Icarii Strike Force.

“Most of the men must be from Nor,” Magariz continued. “Greville’s Tarantaise is so sparsely populated he would struggle to raise a hunting party, let alone an army. Nor, on the other hand …”

“Is one of the most densely populated regions of Achar,” Axis said slowly, continuing Magariz’s train of thought. “Ysgryff has decided to put aside his dancing boys, it seems, and take up the arts of war.” Well, at least he had finally come to Borneheld’s aid, Axis thought sourly. Borneheld could have used those men a lot sooner.

Azhure had ridden up to the group as Magariz and Axis had been talking. An army of Nors men awaiting the other side of the Ancient Barrows? They would be her mother’s people, the people who had bequeathed Azhure her exotic face and hair. She felt suddenly queasy.

“We camp a half a league out of the Barrows,” Axis said quietly, “and prepare for batde on the morrow.”

But on the morrow, as they advanced towards the Barrows, Axis called the column to a halt, surprised. A single horseman rode slowly out of the Barrows, and as the figure drew closer Axis could see that it was not a man at all, but a woman, riding graceful side-saddle.

“By all the gods,” Axis muttered, stunned, as the woman drew closer. It was Embeth, Lady of Tare.

She reined her horse in a few paces away and she and Axis stared at each other. They’d been lovers once, and friends for longer. As he stared at her, Axis realised how close he was to a final confrontation with Borneheld. Carlon lay just weeks away…beyond the army on the other side of the Barrows. Embeth finally smiled. It had been almost two years since she’d seen Axis. Two years, she thought, and look what changes those years have wrought.

The horse was the same, and the blond hair and the beard, but so much else seemed to have changed. His eyes were colder, harder, older. The black of the BattleAxe was gone, as were the twin crossed axes. Now he dressed in a fawn tunic and breeches, a blood-red sun blazing across his chest, a cloak of the same shade draped about his shoulders. He had ridden out of her life across Tarantaise, and now he would ride back into it from out of the dawning sun.

Her smile faltered slightly. The sight of Axis reawoke many emotions she had thought dead. “Axis. It is good to see you.” Axis nodded, his eyes boring into Embeth’s deep blue ones. “And good to see you, Embeth. But a surprise.”

“Nor and Tarantaise await beyond the Barrows,” Embeth said, her voice, gratefully, remaining steady and cool.

“I know.”

“Yes. We saw your, ah …” How was she to refer to the strange and hauntingly lovely creatures she had seen in the sky yesterday?

“They are Icarii, Embeth. You saw some of the Icarii farflight scouts yesterday.”

Embeth considered that for a moment. Faraday had told her much about Axis’ heritage, but until now it had never really sunk in. “Yes,” she repeated. “We saw some of your Icarii farflight scouts yesterday.”

“We?” Axis said softly. “Do you ride with Nor and Tarantaise against me?”

Embeth sensed the danger seeping across the space between them. “I ride with Nor and Tarantaise, Axis, but we ride to join you, not oppose you.”

Axis was so stunned his mouth hung open until he recovered and closed it with a snap.

“Of course,” Embeth continued, her voice deep with amusement, “both Baron Ysgryff and Baron Greville have some conditions.”

Axis’ mouth twisted wryly. “Why am I not surprised to hear that?”

“I rode out alone because we felt that you were less likely to send an arrow through me than if either Ysgryff or Greville rode out. Will you meet with them?”

“Belial, Magariz, what do you think?” Axis asked. “Should meet with these two Barons, or should I decide that it’s a trap and attack anyway?”

“I would not trap you,” Embeth retorted. “We have meant too much to each other for me to do that.”

A black-haired Nors woman suddenly rode up, accompanied by the most extraordinary man Embeth had ever seen. He had blue lines tattooed across his face, a red blazing sun in the centre of his forehead, and rode the ugliest horse this side of the gates of the AfterLife. Embeth glanced again at the woman. Only the fact that she carried a bow slung across her shoulder made her reconsider her first thought that she must be one of the Nors whores who inevitably attached themselves to wandering armies.

“We have no choice,” Belial said after a pause. What would those two women find to say to each other? “We parley. I admit I’m tempted by the thought of nine thousand heavily armoured horsemen.”

Axis nodded. “Magariz?”

“I concur,” Magariz replied. “I find myself grateful that Nor and Tarantaise wait to talk rather than fight.” As with most of Axis’ army, he had spent an unsettled night, tossing and turning in his sleeping roll. Magariz was a trained man of war, but even so, he disliked the idea of fighting against men he had once called friends. He knew that many within Axis’ force felt the same. They would fight, but it would be hard and dispiriting.

Axis nodded. “Ho’Demi?”

Embeth swung her eyes to the blue-lined savage. Was he a Ravensbundman?

“I will brew and serve the Tekawai tea myself,” he said solemnly. “Tekawai is a sacred drink vital to the success of any parley.”

“I shall look forward to sipping Tekawai with you and with my potential allies,” Axis replied, and looked at Azhure. “Well, Azhure-heart? Do you agree with your fellow commanders?”