Sara Douglass – The Axis Trilogy 3 – StarMan

“A family again,” she said, and Axis leaned down and kissed her.

“Roland?” he asked.

“Abed. Apparently he has not left it these past three weeks.”

The light died in Axis’ eyes; having spent so much time close to death himself, he did not know if he could witness someone else’s death this soon. He nodded, then searched the crowd for Belial.

“Belial!” he called, spotting him, arm about Cazna, and waited impatiently as the pair moved over to him.

“Cazna,” he said, forcing a smile, “I regret that I will have to take your husband away from you.” Her face fell, but she

straightened her shoulders stoically. “Belial, order the unit commanders to encamp the army on the grass between Sigholt and Lakesview, then join me in Roland’s chambers. He’s dying.”

“Yes, StarMan.” Belial kissed Cazna quickly, then disappeared into the throng, shouting out names.

Axis took Azhure’s hand. “Come, let’s see Roland.”

Roland was one of Axis’ last links with a life that was rapidly fading into distant memory. Axis stood for a moment at the side of his bed, staring at Roland, before sitting down on its edge and taking the Duke’s hand.

“At least,” Roland smiled, as if he knew what Axis was thinking, “I have the grace to die with the old order, and not hang around to clutter up the new.”

“You are not clutter,” Axis said. Beside him Azhure sank into a chair, Caelum in her arms. As they approached the chamber Axis had asked her the wisdom of bringing Caelum, but Caelum had answered that he spent many hours each day with Roland, and Azhure had met Axis’ eyes. He does not need to be sheltered from death, Axis.

Roland’s smile faded. His face was cadaverous, and his skin shone a dank grey. Axis was well acquainted with the look; the body was dead, but the spirit resisted and clung tenaciously to life. “There have been great battles, Axis, so I have heard.”

Axis shrugged. “Battles, yes, whether great or not history will judge. But there are yet to be greater.”

Roland’s eyes shadowed. “Azhure told me Jorge was dead.”

Axis nodded. “He was murdered by a Traitor. Timozel, son of the Lady of Tare.”

If possible, Roland’s skin shrank even closer against his bones. “Oh, no, Axis! I liked that boy.”

“We all did,” Axis said softly, “and we were all mistaken.” He touched the sword by his side. “I carry Jorge’s sword, Roland, the one Timozel used to murder him with, and I vowed on Jorge’s body that one day I will sink it deep into Timozel’s belly.”

Roland looked away. “Perhaps I am not sad to be leaving this world, Axis. No doubt Jorge awaits me in the AfterLife, and will harangue me when I arrive for keeping him waiting.”

Axis’ eyes filled with tears. “Your children and grandchildren are well, Roland, and Aldeni itself reawakens from its death.”

Roland nodded without interest, his thoughts still on Jorge. It would not be long before he saw his old friend again.

Azhure leaned over and kissed Roland softly on the mouth. “We will’ miss you, Roland. Miss your humour, and your wisdom.” She lifted Caelum up so he could say his goodbyes.

The door opened and Belial stepped into the room. He exchanged glances with Axis, then sat down on the other side of the bed.

Roland looked at Belial. “The Enchantress says I am wise, Belial, but perhaps I erred too long in staying with Borneheld. What do you think?”

“I think that even Borneheld appreciated your wisdom,” Belial said, trying to smile, “but I do not think he fully Understood it.”

Roland guffawed with laughter. “For a man who has ridden with the sword for so long, Belial, your courtly manners amaze me.”

His laughter died suddenly. “I am afraid, Belial…and I think you are the only one in this room who truly understands that.”

There was utter silence. Axis opened his mouth to say something, but found that there was nothing to say. Azhure rested her chin in Caelum’s hair, her eyes steady on Roland’s face. Belial took Roland’s hand and held it.

“I am afraid,” Roland said again, then died.

For some time Axis stood and stared at Roland, then he roused and looked at Belial, still sitting on the other side of the bed, his head bowed. “Belial?”

Belial raised his head, and Axis was not surprised to see that his friend’s eyes were red-rimmed. “Belial,” he said, “Roland is no longer afraid.”

Belial shifted his eyes to Azhure, and she gazed placidly at him. “I will fetch the servants, Belial, and attend to Roland myself. There is no need for you to stay. Cazna no doubt awaits you.”

“No,” he said. “No. I loved and admired Roland too, and he would appreciate it if I stayed to help prepare him for burial and watched the night through to dawn.”

As Azhure rose, Axis lifted Caelum from her arms. “Where are they?” he said flatly.

Axis had brought Caelum, not only because he needed the support, but because he thought the twins might react more favourably with their brother present.

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

He paused outside the door to their apartments, his hand on the doorknob, then he turned it quickly, before his courage failed him completely, and stepped through. He did not particularly want to meet these latest children of his, but it was a task that had to be done. Caelum twisted his head towards a door that led to a series of smaller rooms away from Axis and Azhure’s main chambers, and Axis walked slowly over. There was a soft light shining from under the door and, when he opened it, he found Imibe leaning over one of two cribs in the first of the rooms.

Axis felt a shiver of premonition crawl down his spine and he berated himself silently; how can you call yourself a great warrior to be so terrified of two small babes?

Imibe straightened and Axis tipped his head toward the door; she curtsied silently and left, closing the door behind her.

Then, as Azhure had done two months before, Axis walked slowly over to the cribs to greet his children. And, as Azhure had, he reached his daughter’s crib first. A daughter. Axis tried

to conjure up some joy at this thought, for she was indeed a beautiful child, but she lay there and gazed at him with such studied lack of interest that Axis found he could not summon even a single spark of enthusiasm.

He reached down a hand and stroked her cheek. Why couldn’t she love him? Why couldn’t he love her? But all there was between them was indifference.

“Welcome RiverStar SunSoar, into the House of the Stars. My name is Axis, and I am your father.” Much that you care, he thought, almost nauseated by the cold apathy that rose from her flat stare. “May you learn charity and tolerance,” he said suddenly, “for your beauty will be nothing without them.”

Then he put Caelum down and picked up his daughter, raising her to his face and kissing her brow gently. “I want to learn to love you, RiverStar,” he whispered. “Please, let me love you.”

But the baby turned her head away, and Axis, his mouth thinning, put her back in her crib and lifted Caelum back into his arms. “And now,” he said, “your brother.”

If he had felt apathy from RiverStar, then Axis was met with such a torrent of hatred from DragonStar that he took a shocked step back as soon as he looked into the crib.

“By the Stars!” he whispered, and Caelum whimpered, clinging close to his father. “What have I done to deserve this much revulsion?”

DragonStar twisted in the crib and glared at his father and his elder brother. His tiny fists clenched in rage and frustration; he’d hoped his father would never, never, come home.

“Why?” his father asked, leaning back over the crib.

“Why?”

Because of what you did to my mother.

“There must be more to it than that!” Axis said, trying to control his temper. If that was all that lay between them, then why did DragonStar harbour so much ill-feeling toward Azhure as well?

The baby was silent, but his fists twitched, and Axis suddenly understood that if DragonStar was grown, he would have physically attacked him. As it was, Axis was stunned by the power the baby demonstrated.

/ should be first, DragonStar said suddenly. / should be your heir. With my power, my potential, I deserve to be your heir. Make me first and I will love you.

Now Axis was even more shocked, and he saw that Caelum had lost most of his colour. “No-one chooses when or to whom they are born,” he tried to explain in as moderate a tone as he could manage, then he repeated what he had said to RiverStar. “I want to love you. Let me love you.”