Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 3 – StarMan

And so that is what the Gryphon expected to find.

Within an hour of the first Gryphon entering the complex all the Icarii were dead, but the Gryphon did not understand that. They surged through shafts and corridors, howling with hunger and blood-lust and infused with Gorgrael’s frustrated anger.

Before them leaped shadows and fancies, designed generations ago by Enchanters to frustrate invaders and deflect them from the ancient chambers in the bowels of the mountain where it had been conceived thousands of Icarii might hide. These chambers were largely empty now (and what they did hide was neither feathered nor alive), but the enchantments still did their task. The Gryphon collided and, in a few cases, tore each other apart, as they chased the shadows down shafts and through corridors.

Deeper and deeper they went, driven by anger, frustration and hunger.

They did not find the well to the UnderWorld, for the Ferryman, hearing the terror filter down, had hidden its entrance with powerful enchantments. Then he had turned aside, tears in his eyes, and drifted silently away.

Gorgrael, and thus his Gryphon, did not know of the more subtle enchantments of Talon Spike. He did not know that the deeper the Gryphon went into the mountain – and every last one flew and scrambled as deep as she could go – the more they would be shielded from his thoughts by both the rock itself and the enchantments that surrounded them.

Cut off from their master’s thoughts, the Gryphon received no fresh orders. All they knew was that they had to hunt the tens of thousands of Icarii that must be hiding here somewhere*.

They knew they had to avenge their master’s anger and frustration by killing, killing and then killing some more.

The anger and frustration with which Gorgrael had filled his Gryphon intensified the deeper they went into the mountain, for they could not find the Icarii, and they screamed and scrambled and shrieked and searched and searched and searched…

…and so they continued, and when Gorgrael, disconcerted by the lack of contact with his lovely pets, tried to send them fresh ideas, new orders, all he received in return were shadows and fancies that bounced through his mind and sent him screaming and shrieking through the corridors of his Ice Fortress.

The Gryphon continued to hunt, rip, destroy and chase the shadows that the mountain itself sent their way, and it would be many days before any of them, exhausted, managed to crawl their way to the surface.

Departure Azhure left that afternoon, knowing that Axis would need her, and that she would have to ride on wings of power to reach northern Ichtar on time. She took Caelum with her. There was no way the boy would be left behind and, truth to tell, Azhure did not want to leave him.

“Azhure!” Rivkah snapped, as she stood by Venator in the courtyard, “you cannot take the boy! You will be riding into war – what are you thinking of?”

“I am thinking,” Azhure replied, “that when I last left Caelum here in the safety of Sigholt he was snatched by Gorgrael. Where is safety? With either me or Axis. Rivkah,” she said, not wanting to leave Rivkah with anger in her eyes, “I will not ride into battle with him. I will find somewhere safe to leave him.”

“Safe? In northern Ichtar?” Rivkah muttered. “Very well. Azhure?” Rivkah’s entire demeanour changed. “Where will you go once the battle is over? Where from Gorkenfort?”

“I don’t know. Ravensbund, I suppose.”

“Azhure? Will you be back here in time for the birth of my son?”

“Rivkah,” she stumbled, “I don’t know…it all depends.”

Rivkah’s face closed over and Azhure quickly leaned down from the saddle, taking her hand. “Rivkah,” she said softly, “I will do what I can. You have at least six weeks to go.”

“Please, Azhure.” Rivkah was almost crying now. “I want you here for the birth.”

“Do you trust me to be here, Rivkah?”

Rivkah took a deep breath. “Yes, yes, I trust you Azhure. And I want you here. I… I am afraid.”

“I will do my best, Rivkah,” she said. “That is all I can do.”

Rivkah nodded again, jerkily, then stood back. “Then I wish -my son and my husband and most of all you, Azhure, the luck and strength of the gods in the battle ahead.”

She smiled, her eyes bright with tears. “And make sure you bring that grandson of mine home again.”

Azhure smiled then sat up. Caelum was strapped securely to her back, the quiver of arrows now fastened to her waist and hanging down her side. The Wolven rested across one shoulder and the Alaunt milled about Venator’s legs.

“Let’s run,” she said.

One minute she was there, the next she was gone. Rivkah had a faint impression of the horse leaping away and of Azhure’s hair flying and obscuring Caelum from sight. She heard a rumble of hooves, a cry from the bridge, and a brief clamour from the hounds, then the courtyard was silent and empty save for herself and the few others who had left their afternoon chores to farewell Azhure.

Again Azhure rode as if her horse had wings at his fetlocks. Through the night, bright moonlight flooded her path and the hounds streamed ahead of her, but even during the daylight hours it seemed as if she were bathed in ivory light.

When she stopped a fire was always blazing and Adamon, and sometimes Pors or Silton, were there to greet her and hand her roast partridge. The horse and the hounds would curl at her back and rest. Even though she woke them as soon as she had eaten and dozed a few minutes herself, they were always as fresh as if they had slept for many hours, and the few handfuls of food that she threw their way sustained them in the dash for Gorkenfort.

Caelum, sweet child, slept virtually the entire way, lulled by the moonlight and the movement of Azhure’s body as she swayed to the beat of Venator’s gait. He woke only to smile at whichever god sat before the fire, and to accept some food, then he slipped back into dreams that healed his mental and emotional scars. At the same time, his physical injuries faded so that by the time Venator raced westwards along the southern line of the Icescarp Alps, Caelum laughed with joy whenever he awoke. And Azhure laughed with him, thanking the Moon that when Axis again saw his son, he would never know the depth of hurt and pain Caelum had suffered.

Approach to Gorkenfort There! are!’ Not here!” Axis pointed into the sky. “There thi Not having the vision of an Enchanter, Belial hi to believe him. “Are they all there?”

“Yes,” Axis sighed in relief.

Belial shrugged a little closer inside his cloak and waited f< the farflight scouts to land. They were half a league south of tt ruins of Gorkentown, although the Keep had survived relative! intact. Earlier this morning, Axis had sent eight Icarii scoutin well into Gorken Pass to try to espy the battle formations of th Skraeling army all knew waited there.

In the nine days since Xanon had told Axis of Caelum capture, Axis had buried his concern for wife and son i activity. He had moved his force hard north for Gorkenfon although he was careful not to over-tire them, nor to outpac their supply column.

The further north they moved the more bitter became thi weather. It was cold for mid-Flower-month but when Axi; complained about the wind sweeping down from the north Magariz grinned darkly and said that even in the warmest o summers the snow barely melted in Gorken Pass.

“And many parts of Ravensbund remain dusted with snow through much of the mid-year,” Ho’Demi added.

Axis grumbled, he was tired of fighting through constani winter, but Belial only grinned. “Tencendor lies free, my friend,

and even here the sun shines for most of the day. Already Flower-month lives up to its name across Ichtar, and the crops must be close to harvest below the Nordra. If you cannot stand another month or two of snow, driving these wraiths into the sea, well then, perhaps you ought to go home and sit before a fire with a blanket about your knees.”

“If I have to spend my time seated before a fire with a blanket over my knees, Belial, then I shall insist that you sit with me to pass the time of day. Perhaps you could knit.”

Belial smiled, but he did not continue the repartee, thinking of the reports they had received so far. The Skraeling host had apparently abandoned Gorkentown and fort. They could not all have crammed inside the ruins, and Timozel must have decided that he would prefer to battle in the wind-swept wastes of Gorken Pass.

“Here they are,” Belial heard Axis mutter by his side, and he looked up. With a rustle of wings and a rush of air, SpikeFeather TrueSong settled down into the snow before them. He was followed by two more scouts, the other five flying on to their units stationed at the rear of the ground force.