Not to tell the men is to insult them, he thought, especially as the Icarü and Avar knew and were undoubtedly making preparations in every home against possible invasion.
Black resentment gripped him. “I must speak with Caelum,” he said. “Now. Herme, will you accompany me?”
“Gladly, sire.”
“And I!” cried Theod.
Zared managed a small grin at the man’s enthusiasm.
“Nay, Theod. You stay here. I’d hate your general good cheer to force even Askam to smile.”
And, to the accompaniment of his commanders’ laughter, Zared and Herme strode away to Caelum’s camp fire.
“StarSon?” Zared said. “I need to speak with you.”
Caelum looked up from his plate of dried vegetables and stew. He glanced at Askam, on the other side of the fire, then nodded. “Sit down.”
Zared and Herme sat down cross-legged before the fire, Zared wincing as the half-healed wound tugged at his insides.
“Caelum. The men need to be told what they ride to face.”
Caelum chewed on a mouthful of food, then swallowed. “It would be worse to tell them.”
“What? Worse? How so, StarSon?”
“What could I tell them? That some unknown demonic force threatens from the stars? That Drago SunSoar leads them, no doubt to feed his own ambition? That would only make them fear, Zared.”
And fearing, Caelum thought, would make them more readily desert the fragile peace now holding these two forces together.
“They fear now, Caelum. They understand that something is badly wrong – why else such a forced march? They also understand that the threat is deadly. For the gods’ sakes, Caelum, tell them! They deserve to know.”
“Curse you, Zared! Accept my judgment as you accepted my command. I am tired, and -”
Zared swept an arm about. “All of us are tired, Caelum. But the majority of the men out there are being unnecessarily frightened.”
“They would be terrified if they knew the details, Zared.”
Zared turned his face away.
Herme watched him, then spoke himself. “StarSon, I have led men for many years. I know men.”
He paused, wondering how to put this diplomatically. “StarSon, you have spent so much time locked in Sigholt that perhaps you cannot remember what it is that ordinary men think and fear. At the moment, they fear that they are being led into a deadly danger that they know nothing about.”
“All I ask of them is that they obey orders,” Caelum said fiercely.
“But-”
“If I tell them, Herme, they will run screaming into the night. Curse you, Herme, Zared! Will you not follow orders?”
Zared held his temper in check. “Caelum, I beg you. Tell these men what they ride to meet. You think they will run screaming into the night if you tell them the truth,” say that not telling them will make them desert you far earlier.”
“With you at their head, no doubt,” Askam said sarcastically.
“That will be enough, Askam!” Caelum said and threw his plate down. “Zared, you may leave.”
Zared hesitated, then rose, indicating that Herme should do the same. He paused, stared at Askam’s slight smile, then marched off.
Zared fumed all the way back to his camp site. Just before he reached it, he turned to Herme. “Call a meeting of all my commanders,” he said. “Moonrise, at my fire.”
Herme nodded, and walked off.
Zared sighed, rubbed his eyes – gods! When would he recover his strength? – and walked the few remaining steps to his camp fire. Perhaps he should talk with Leagh, too, but he’d been too tired even to do that.
He walked into the circle of light about the fire, then stopped dead in amazement. Sitting with Leagh were two other women, one Icarü, one human.
“Zenith?” he said wonderingly, then turned in confusion to the other woman. He’d never seen her before in his life.
“Who are you?”
His voice was rougher than he meant, but Zared unaccountably felt discomforted by the woman. She was lovely, yes, but there was something more about her.
A power.
“My name is Faraday,” she said, and rose gracefully, holding out her hand. “And I apologise for disturbing the peace of your fire.”
“You’re legend only!” Zared said, so shocked he did not think to take the woman’s hand.
“And that is indeed a sad epitaph for a living breathing woman,” Faraday said. “Please, I will not harm you.” She waggled her fingers a little impatiently.
Zared realised his rudeness and hurriedly took her hand, wondering that he could still remember the courtly graces in this most incongruous of settings.
“My Lady Faraday, I only meant that your bravery and courage have reached legendary proportions within Tencendor.”
She smiled prettily. “And do you not have a greeting for your niece?”
Zared let her hand go, stepped about the fire and enveloped Zenith in a bear hug.
“Zenith! Whatever happened to you? I’d heard you disappeared from Sigholt -”
She leaned back in his arms. “It’s a long story, uncle. I left with Drago… willingly. But, look at you, Leagh has told us that you have been injured.”
“I am healing, Zenith. What… what are you doing here?”
Zenith let him go and indicated they should sit down again. Zared hesitated, then sat next to Leagh.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
Faraday noted, then smiled gently at Zared. “I have heard you now wear the crown of Achar, Zared. King Zared and Queen Leagh – this can hardly be the court you imagined.” She looked about her.
Zared suddenly remembered that Faraday and her husband, Borneheld, had been the last reigning monarchs of Achar. He opened his mouth, but he did not know what to say.
“Say nothing,” Faraday said. “I care not for crowns now. Zenith and I,” she took her friend’s hand, “have both come back from the dead, in a manner of speaking. Now we have other things to worry about than titles and crowns.”
“Faraday, Zenith, what are you doing here?”
“Well, first,” Zenith said with a hard gleam in her eye, “we have come to comfort your wife, Zared. It seems she has been unhappy.”
Zared dropped his eyes. “We have not made a good start to our marriage.”
“Then do something about it,” Faraday said sharply. “Both of you are mortal, and have no time to chase each other through successive aeons trying to make up for mistakes hundreds of years old.”
Zared suddenly laughed, surprising himself. He took Leagh’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I am sorry,” he said, and smiled at her.
“And . should have thought before -”
“Hush,” he said and, leaning forward, kissed her gently on the lips.
“Good,” Faraday said. “Now as to what other purpose Zenith and I have… well, all of it you need not know, but we are on our way to the Ancient Barrows.”
“As are we.”
“Yes, as are you. But I think your mission a sad error.”
Zared looked at the two women carefully. “But Caelum says that his father thinks we can help.”
“Axis does not always know what is right or not,” Faraday said. “Frankly, I don’t think Axis really knows what to do. He just feels comfortable with an army surrounding him. It is the influence of his youth, I suppose.”
She shrugged, and looked at Zenith. “You explain, Zenith.”
Zenith nodded, studied her hands for a few moments, then raised her eyes gravely. “Zared. Do you know what comes through the Star Gate?”
“Demons,” he answered. “Creatures from within the stars themselves, for all I know. And WolfStar’s nemesis. All the children he murdered so many thousands of years ago.”
Zenith nodded. “And they bring dreadful powers, for all we know – but, frankly, we do not truly know what they bring. But did you know that their approach is seriously sapping the Icarü Enchanters’ powers?”
“What do you mean?”
“Over the past weeks I have felt my Enchanter powers fade. The Star Dance itself is diminishing, faltering.”
“But, how -”
“Shush, uncle, and let me finish. As these Demons approach, their influence is clouding the Star Gate itself. The Star Dance cannot get through, and without the Star Dance, we have no powers.”
Zared stared at her, aghast. There was a step behind him, and Herme, Theod and several of Zared’s commanders appeared.
“Not now,” he began, but Faraday stopped him.
“No. They need to hear this as well. Please be seated, gentlemen.”
Somewhat bemused, the men sat down, crowding about the fire.
“Go on, Zenith,” Faraday said.
She spoke slowly, emphasising each word. “The approach of these Demons is not only stripping the Icarü Enchanters of their powers, but also the Star Gods. By the time the Demons break through, all Enchanters, as Star Gods, will have lost their powers completely.”
There was utter silence.
It was Leagh who finally answered. “But that would be…” she frowned, trying to come to terms with the concept. “Unthinkable. Tencendor with no magic?”
“Some will remain,” Faraday said. “In the trees and forests, although we cannot know how the Demons will affect them in the long term. And within… several other creatures. But nothing will compensate Tencendor for the loss of the Enchanters’ power, nor that of the Star Gods.”