Sara Douglass – The Serpent Bride – DarkGlass Mountain Book 1

that the Icarii whom Maximilian had talked of would remain in the city for the king to arrive. He

was somewhat taken aback when, a few miles out of the city, one of Maximilian”s guardsmen,

Doyle, gave a soft exclamation and pointed into the sky.

StarDrifter looked up.

Four Icarii were spiraling down from the clearing sky.

StarDrifter felt his stomach clench. He wasn”t looking forward to meeting these Icarii.

He”d avoided other Icarii assiduously while living in Coroleas, hating to be reminded of the loss

not only of his wings, but of everything and everyone who had perished along with Tencendor.

He hoped it wasn”t anyone he knew personally.

Unfortunately, within a few hundred feet of their approach (StarDrifter still had his

excellent birdman”s vision) he knew he was out of luck.

BroadWing EvenBeat had once been a member of the Strike Force under Axis”

command, and subsequently had been a regular member of Caelum”s court. StarDrifter did not

know him well, but he knew him nonetheless, and he saw startled recognition in BroadWing”s

eyes as well.

The Icarii landed, and BroadWing greeted Maximilian. They spoke briefly, reassuring

themselves that no one had been badly injured in the storm, then Maximilian turned slightly in

his saddle and indicated StarDrifter and the two marsh women.

“We have new company,” he said. He introduced Venetia and Ravenna, then looked to

StarDrifter.

“You might remember—” Maximilian began, then stopped in amazement as BroadWing

stepped near to StarDrifter”s horse and dropped on one knee, his head bowed deeply, his wings

spread out behind him on the ground in the traditional Icarii gesture of deep respect.

“Talon,” BroadWing said, giving StarDrifter the title of the king of the Icarii. “I greet you

well. I am yours, as are all under my command.”

Maximilian”s mouth dropped open, then he turned to StarDrifter.

The birdman looked as if he”d been hit with an ax. His face was bloodless, his eyes wide

with shock, and his mouth opened, then closed, as he fought to find something to say.

“No,” StarDrifter managed, finally. “I am not your Talon.”

“Yes,” BroadWing said, “you are. You are the rightful heir.”

Everyone was now staring at StarDrifter.

“Axis is alive,” StarDrifter said, his voice still hoarse with shock. “He should be the—”

“Axis was never Talon, and has never claimed the title,” said BroadWing. “His bloodline

was that of the StarSon over all Tencendor, not Talon over the Icarii. FreeFall is dead. You are

his closest living male relative, his uncle.”

The three other Icarii knelt behind BroadWing, offering StarDrifter their respect and

loyalty as well.

“I don”t want it,” StarDrifter said, his voice tight.

“Nonetheless,” BroadWing said, now rising to his feet, “the Icarii survive, and we need a

Talon.” His voice firmed. “You.”

“I can”t…”

BroadWing said nothing, holding StarDrifter”s eyes in his cool, steady gaze.

“I am not worthy,” said StarDrifter. “Not at all.”

BroadWing smiled, very slightly. “Then you shall need to develop worthiness,

StarDrifter. You are a SunSoar. I have no doubt you will manage it.”

There was a long silence, broken eventually by Serge.

“Well, fancy,” he said. “Now I find myself riding in the company of two kings.”

Three days after Maximilian and his company had passed through Narbon, a woman

alighted from a Corolean trading vessel at the city”s wharves.

She was particularly striking, if a little gaunt and pale, but the expression on her face and

the hardness in her eyes told anyone who looked upon her that she”d endured much adversity,

and that recently.

The woman wasted no time in hiring a small escort and fast horses, and within two hours

of her arrival in Narbon she had left the city, traveling west toward Deepend.

[ Part Seven ]

CHAPTER ONE

Palace of Aqhat, Isembaard

Ishbel stood on the deck of the riverboat under a gently undulating canvas canopy, using

all of her self-control to present a calm, confident exterior, yet horribly aware that her constantly shifting eyes revealed her anxiety.

The long, slow, comfortable river journey had reached its conclusion. In the early hours

of the morning the boat had docked at the wharf of the palace of the Tyrant of Isembaard, and

now, midmorning, she was to disembark and meet, finally, her captor and the man who planned

to destroy all the kingdoms north of the FarReach Mountains. She had dreamed the previous

night of the Lord of Elcho Falling again, the dream more vivid and terrifying than ever, and she

thought it boded ill for today.

She was dressed in the Isembaardian fashion for the day. She”d been wearing only her

nightclothes when Ba”al”uz had snatched her, and for the terrible journey through the FarReach

Mountains she”d been given only rough and functional garments. Once she”d fallen into the care

of Axis, Ishbel”s wardrobe improved, but had still been largely functional.

At breakfast, a servant had appeared, carrying over his arms a thick swathe of soft linen,

saying that it was a gift from the tyrant, and he would be pleased if she were to wear it on this

day.

Ishbel dressed hesitantly, unwilling to accept the gift, yet at the same moment glad of the

opportunity to wear something elegant, comfortable, and flattering to her ever expanding figure.

She did not know if Isaiah was aware of her pregnancy (had Axis sent word? Had he left the boat

secretly, and met with Isaiah?), but the robe of heavy white linen, draping softly from a wide

collar of multicolored glass beads that covered her shoulders and upper chest and back, flattered

both her coloring and pregnancy, and in the warm humid air was far more comfortable than

something more closely fitted.

The tyrant, Isaiah, was clearly determined to make a grand showing for her.

The riverboat was the only vessel docked at the expansive stone wharf. The wharf was

empty of all the paraphernalia Ishbel would have expected: crates, ropes, casks, bundles of sails,

fishing nets. Instead, the vast area of cream stone had been swept and scrubbed free of any stain

so that it reflected an almost blinding white light in the strong sunshine. Spear-wielding soldiers,

dressed only in white linen hipwraps, sandals and glittering copper helmets, lined the wharf in

three rows, creating an avenue that stretched back at least two hundred paces to the gates in the

palace walls.

Further rows of armed men lined the tops of the palace walls.

Aqhat glittered with the fire of copper and the lightning flashes of steel.

Ishbel was not sure if this display was meant to impress her or to intimidate her, but she

had to confess to herself that if Isaiah had aimed for intimidation, then he”d managed it very

well. The only thing that spoiled the perfect stillness of the men, and the symmetry of their

display, was an ugly brindle dog that trotted slowly behind one of the lines.

The day was going to be hot. The air was very still, and, save for the gentle lapping of

water against the riverboat”s hull, it was completely silent.

Nothing moved. Ishbel had been standing here now for at least half an hour and not once

had any of the armed men moved.

There was just the glittering light and ever-increasing heat.

And Ishbel”s own ever-increasing apprehension.

“What is this, Axis?” she said, very low, turning her face only slightly toward Axis, who

stood to her left and just behind her. “Why this display?”

Axis was clothed in clean shirt and trousers, his boots finely polished, his hair freshly

washed and his beard trimmed close to his jawline. Among all this exotic landscape and peoples,

he at least reminded her of the land of her birth.

He gave a small shrug at her question. “Isaiah must be bored,” he said, “or perhaps, now

that he is gathering his men for an invasion, he needs some duty to occupy the ever-increasing

forces. A spot of ceremonial duty in the scorching sun will surely keep them out of mischief for

the day.”

“What does he want with me?” Ishbel hissed, unable to keep the anxiety from her voice.

“Not much, Ishbel,” Axis said. “Remember that this was not his idea, but Ba”al”uz”. No

doubt Isaiah wishes to impress you, but, the instant he sees that belly, any vague interest he may

have in the idea of taking Maximilian”s wife as his own bride will vanish in a rush of

disagreeable revulsion. I am willing to wager that you will see him this morning, and then you”ll

barely ever see him again. He”ll be no danger to you, Ishbel. Don”t worry. Just enjoy the day. If

nothing else, the Isembaardians know how to put on a display.”

“Are you well, Ishbel?” said Zeboath softly from a few paces behind her. “You have been

standing here for a time now, and the air is hot, even if we are shaded from the sun.”

“I am well enough, Zeboath,” Ishbel said, turning and smiling a little for him. “I haven”t