Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 3 – StarMan

Belial sat and stared at Axis and tried to convince himself that Axis was wrong. But deep in his heart he found himself believing him.

“It is as you thought, Gorgrael, Axis lives and plans your destruction.”

“I knew it!” Gorgrael howled and leapt from his chair. “I was right to pull the army back from the Azle!”

Over the past week Timozel, while still leading the Skraeling host northwards towards Gorken Pass, had never ceased to complain about it. Daily he had argued and pleaded with Gorgrael to reconsider his decision, although he was careful never to push his master too far.

While Gorgrael had insisted that Timozel continue nortl TimozePs arguments had worried him. Should he have pushe while he had the chance? Had Axis truly been crippled, eve killed, by the power he had loosed on the Gryphon? Gorgra< had been racked with uncertainties, but now these uncertaintie were eased. He heard only what he wanted to hear.

“You are sure?” he asked, his silver eyes narrowing at th Dark Man.

The Dark Man bowed his head slightly. “Positive, Gorgrael What would have happened if Timozel had been allowed t< attack as he wanted? Undoubtedly Axis would have loosec more emerald fire on the Skraelings as he did abovi Gorkenfort.”

Gorgrael shuddered, remembering. “Will I never defea him?”

“Oh Gorgrael,” the Dark Man said. “A temporary setback nothing more.”

“I’m sick of these temporary setbacks,” Gorgrael muttered.

“You have the Gryphon, and they continue to breed well.”

“And look what Axis did to the nine hundred!” Gorgrael said.

“Ah, but can he do that to seven thousand, or seventy thousand? Even Axis’ power must have its limits. You need but wait, Gorgrael, and the Prophecy will work its will. Besides, it must come down to only you and him. No matter what your army can do to his, and his to yours, both of you know that it will come down to one thing.”

“The final duel,” Gorgrael said, his voice calmer now, his eyes introspective. Then his head jerked up, for thoughts of the final battle had made him think of Faraday, and thoughts of Faraday reminded him of…”The trees!”

“Ah, yes.” The Dark Man moved to stand before the fire, his back to Gorgrael. “The trees. They grow.”

“I thought you said that Artor would stop her!” With each passing day Gorgrael could feel the forest growing. With the planting out of Minstrelsea, Gorgrael’s hold on the winter was slipping. Not much, but enough to cause him to halt the storm that he had sent down to batter Aldeni. And now he wondered how much longer he could keep the country south of Ichtar caught in its unnatural winter.

“It’s all the fault of those SkraeBolds!” he cried, “for not destroying the Earth Tree when they had the chance!”

“Water gone now, Gorgrael,” the Dark Man said mildly, turning to face him. “Plan for the future. Timozel can mass and regroup in Gorken Pass – and remember the destruction your army caused there before – and not even Axis with his pitiful army could drive him from that pass. And from there, Timozel can lead Axis to you.”

“Yes, yes.” Gorgrael let himself be cheered. “There are not enough men in Tencendor to provide him with a force to equal mine. Unless…the trees.” His mind kept coming back to that. Why did he have to worry about both Axis and the trees?

And Faraday. She was a conundrum to drive anyone crazed. He had to stop her planting the trees, for they might yet prove his undoing. Yet he needed her alive, for she was the key to Axis’ death.

“Artor will not kill hei; will he?” he asked yet again.

“No,” the Dark Man reassured him. “Artor may weaken her, but I have that situation under control. She will survive. You will yet have the Lover.”

Gorgrael breathed deep. “Good.”

They moved cautiously out from the Murkle Mountains, a long column of cold, injured and dispirited men. Above and ahead flew what was left of the Strike Force and what they reported cheered yet perversely worried Belial.

Timozel continued to lead the Skraeling force northwards, to Gorken Pass, the scouts thought. There were no Gryphon in the skies. The weather, while ominous, did not look any more so than could be expected for this time of the year. And hour by

hour, day by day, Axis clung to his horse, held upright by blankets and ropes, and stared sightlessly ahead. He was quiet for the most part, but Belial knew that each step Belaguez took, each slip in the snow, sent shafts of agony coursing through his body.

And, Belial could not stop thinking, Axis is the only one who can save us, yet in saving us at the Azle River, he has condemned us to slow defeat.

He thought about Azhure, and wondered if his message had reached her before the storm closed in. And if it had, then what could she do to help them?

Mali’s Secret Azhure could see the spires and pennants of Carlon hours before the Seal Hope finally docked. The ship’s approach had been similarly visible, and there was a sizeable crowd waiting. At the front stood Rivkah and Cazna, holding hands, excitement and tension lighting and lining their faces.

Azhure leaned over the deck railing and waved at them, wondering what news they had. She had sent no word ahead to announce her return, and she wondered if the worry on their faces was for her, or whether it was caused by word from the north.

Rivkah let Cazna’s hand go and rushed forward to embrace Azhure as she stepped off the gangway. “Azhure! How are you? The children? What’s happened? Why are you back so soon? Have you heard from the north? Oh, Azhure!” and she barely restrained herself from bursting into tears.

Azhure hugged her tightly and then embraced Cazna briefly. Now she was closer, Azhure could see that Cazna looked thin and pale, and Rivkah’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“I’m well,” she said, “and the twins have been born. Now, what have you heard from the north?”

“Too little,” Rivkah said, holding Azhure’s hand tightly.

“Far too little.”

“Well,” Azhure smiled, trying to put both women at ease, “this is no place to share news. Say hello to Ysgryff, and Caelum, and here…here are my latest.”

“Oh,” Rivkah breathed, as the nurses stepped forward, “they are beautiful*. What have you named them?”

“RiverStar and DragonStar.”

Rivkah’s eyes flew to Azhure’s face. She, as well as any Icarii, knew the power of the boy’s name.

“And,” Azhure continued with a slight twist of her mouth, “yes, they are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“But come,” she said as Rivkah and Cazna both greeted Ysgryff and kissed Caelum, “come. This is no place to talk.”

The palace entrance was only a few short blocks from the main gate into Carlon, so Azhure suggested they walk. Human and Icarii smiled and waved at them, but Azhure could sense that the mood of the city was grim. Whatever news had filtered down from the north must be poor indeed. Her eyes slipped briefly to the east, where she could see the top of Spiredcre gleaming even in the overcast sky. Soon, she promised herself, soon.

“Enchantress!” Hesketh, captain of the palace guard, was running down the street towards her.

“Enchantress,” he panted as he reached her.

“What’s wrong?” Rivkah snapped, worried by the expression in Hesketh’s eyes.

Hesketh ignored her. “Enchantress, a farflight scout has just arrived from the north. He has a message…from Belial.”

“Belial?” Cazna cried and seized Hesketh’s arm.

“Not Axis?” Rivkah said, her grey eyes apprehensive.

“News for the Enchantress,”” Hesketh said firmly, and shook Cazna away.

“Shush, Rivkah, Cazna,” Azhure said to the two women. “I’m sure we will all know soon enough. Ysgryff,” she turned and beckoned to her uncle. “Take Cazna’s arm, will you?” and, linking her own arm with Rivkah’s, she hurried them along the final few paces to the palace entrance.

As they approached the royal chambers Azhure’s apprehension deepened. What had happened during the week she’d been aboard the Seal Hope? Had Axis managed to die despite

the GateKeeper’s opposition? Had he found another Gate to go through? Had he left her?

“Imibe,” she said shortly as they paused in the antechamber, “take the children and feed them. Then they will need to rest. Ysgryff, stay with us. Hesketh, fetch the scout. Now,” she linked her arms through both Rivkah’s and Cazna’s, “let us sit in the Jade Chamber and hear what enlightenment the scout has for us.”

When the scout did enter, Azhure instantly feared the worst. His wings were tattered and bloody, his clothes stained, his face drawn and exhausted, but he held himself upright proudly, and folded his wings neatly as he had greeted Azhure.

“Enchantress.”

“BlueWing EverSoar,” Azhure said, recognising the bird-man. “What news?”

“I come from the north,” BlueWing said, and the listeners all shifted impatiently. “I have been delayed many days, for a storm of great wrath kept me trapped in the southern Murkle Mountains. Consequently the news I bring is over a week old, and I cannot know what has happened since.”