“Azhure?” Both Axis and Belial said together in surprise, half that Azhure now apparently lived with the Icarii and half at the appellation ‘Groundwalker’. “She’s still good at the death stroke then,” Belial muttered.
HoverEye ignored their reaction. “Axis SunSoar, it must be a combined force that meets Gorgrael’s army, not a force composed only of Groundwalkers or of Icarii or Avar warriors.” He shrugged, discomforted. “Our proud Strike Force could do little against the Skraelings. However much it galls many of the Icarii, we think we must fight with you at our helm. You have the experience, the blood and the power. BattleAxe, we ask for your aid in fighting Gorgrael. In return, we will give Gorkenfort aid.”
“Axis,” FreeFall said quietly, his violet eyes intense, his hand on Axis’ shoulder. “You must be with your father if you are to reach your full power!”
“I know, I know,” Axis said, then he looked up at FreeFall. “What am I, FreeFall?”
FreeFall stared at his cousin, then, acting on pure instinct, he reached out and took Axis’ right hand, pulling the glove from it. He held the hand out for all to see, the strengthening light catching the gold and diamonds of the Enchanter’s ring. “I think you already know what you are, Axis. Already you wear the Enchanter’s ring. But only your father can bring you to your full potential, can make you strong enough to defeat Gorgrael. You are who you are, Axis. Accept it or we all die.”
Axis stared into FreeFall’s eyes. Then he nodded tersely. “I am Axis SunSoar, son of StarDrifter SunSoar,” he said quietly, “and if I am to be an Icarii Enchanter who can lead the people of Tencendor to victory against Gorgrael then I need my father’s teaching.”
“Yes,” FreeFall smiled, “yes! Welcome home, Axis, welcome home!”
Axis had the sudden, astounding feeling that he was indeed home. He had found his family. He had found what he needed to replace the lies with which the Seneschal had bound him.
“What’s going on here? Have I finally caught you at your treacheries, BattleAxe?” an enraged voice called across the Keep.
Axis snatched his hand out of FreeFall’s grip and spun around at the sound of Borneheld. He drew his sword, although Belial had the good sense to keep his sheathed. Magariz, still baffled by what he had witnessed, stood back a pace or two, his hand on the hilt of his sword but refraining from unsheathing it. Borneheld strode across the rooftop towards them. Jorge, Roland, Gautier and a number of fully armed soldiers followed him, Faraday and Timozel close behind. Borneheld had been at early morning weapon practice when he had espied the strange group on top of the Keep. Now he slowly weaved his sword before him as he halted a few paces away from Axis and the winged men, Gautier at his shoulder, his own sword at the ready. Timozel held Faraday back, his arm tight about her waist. His own eyes were cold.
The Icarii were instantly wary, their wings reflexively unfolding for flight. They had watched Gorkenfort for three days, waiting for a time when Axis was relatively isolated. They had no wish to antagonise Borneheld, knowing from their own observations and the reports of the Icarii farflight scouts that he was quick to anger. Some of the soldiers behind Borneheld had arrows, notched and ready for flight. This was too dangerous…too dangerous.
It was Lord Magariz, in the end, who spoke. “My Lord Duke, these are members of the Icarii who have offered us their aid in defeating the Skraelings.” He did not think it prudent to mention that one of them was also closely related to Axis, or that it was one of the creatures from this strange race who had seduced Borneheld’s mother.
Borneheld leaned back and laughed contemptuously. “So these are the Forbidden, then? Have we been afraid of such as these for so many years? Have we quivered under our beds at the thought that they would come to terrify us? Why,” he sneered at the three birdmen, “they are too pretty to be fearsome. I shall build me a cage and keep them to sing for me when I am an old man and weary of battle and women. Pretty, pretty.” HoverEye stepped back, shocked and insulted to the core of his being. Surely no-one who laid any claim to being civilised acted like this?
“We need all the help we can get, Borneheld,” Axis said, only barely keeping his temper under control. His hand tightened about the hilt of his sword, a movement not missed by FreeFall. “Gorkenfort will fall if we cannot get assistance from outside. We need the Icarii!”
Borneheld stared at Axis, his face working as emotions battled inside of him. “I will save Gorkenfort!” he screamed abruptly, his face furious, his grey eyes glittering with hate. “I do not need any help and I will not ally myself with the filth that stand here on this roof!”
Behind him Timozel nodded. Yes. That was the message of his vision. Borneheld would save Achar.
Duke Roland glanced at Jorge and stepped forward. “My Lord Duke,” he said placatingly, “it will not hurt to listen to what these Icarii have to say. Perhaps they have news that we should hear, reports of weaknesses in Gorgrael’s lines.”
FreeFall, swallowing his own sense of insult at Borneheld’s words and actions (how could the gentle Rivkah have birthed such a son?), stepped past HoverEye and stood between Axis and Borneheld. “My Lord Duke Borneheld,” FreeFall said politely. “I bring greetings from the Talon and offer the assistance of the Icarii Strike Force in driving the Skraelings from northern Ichtar. We stand ready to strike wherever you think we might aid you.”
“I do not need the help of the Forbidden!” Borneheld rasped. “You are cursed beasts who should not have been allowed to live to breed beyond the Fortress Ranges. We misjudged during the Wars of the Axe, I think, in not burning you along with your demon-darkened forests. Once I am finished with the Skraelings I will ride into your mountain homes and burn your nests until only shifting ash and your memory remains.”
FreeFall was shocked into silence, his great violet eyes locked unbelieving on the man in front of him. How could his people ally themselves with the Groundwalkers when they were filled with such unreasoning hate?
Roland tried one more time to make him see reason. “Borneheld, you know that we face Gorgrael. The Prophecy says that we must ally ourselves with the, ah, Forbidden. Who knows if it is right? But surely we should talk with these, ah, men. Hear what they have to say.”
FreeFall felt Axis stir behind him and remembered that Axis had his sword drawn. He turned around, ready to stop Axis from attacking. “Axis,” he said softly, intently, “you must not…”
And then Borneheld moved as fast as a striking viper. “I give you this for your damned Prophecy!” he screamed, and plunged his sword deep into FreeFall’s back, the stroke so powerful it broke through bone and muscle before slicing open the heir to the Talon throne’s heart. Faraday screamed as she saw the blur of steel plummet into FreeFall’s back and would have rushed forward had not Timozel roughly hauled her back, tightening his hold about her. In that moment, that instant, as she saw the sword slice deeper and deeper into the defenceless Icarii man’s back, Faraday’s dislike and fear of Borneheld hardened completely into contempt and hate.
Borneheld grunted and yanked his sword out of FreeFall’s back, putting his boot into the small of the birdman’s back to give himself the necessary leverage to pull it free. The sword made a sound like rotten cloth giving way as it slid free of FreeFall’s flesh.
All Axis saw was the blur of movement behind FreeFall, the shocked look on FreeFall’s face, and then, unbelievably, the glint of a sword tip, reddened with blood, pushing through FreeFall’s chest and then disappearing.
FreeFall collapsed into Axis’ arms, Axis catching him, unable to comprehend what had happened. His eyes met Borneheld’s. “You’re next, brother,” Borneheld said softly but very, very menacingly. He took a step forward.
Axis looked down at FreeFall. The birdman was dying, his arms and wings hung limply at his side, his great violet eyes were glazing grey. Blood was beginning to pump from his mouth as he struggled to say something. Axis bent his head. “Find StarDrifter, Axis,” FreeFall whispered. Then, as the last of his l
ife pumped out of him, FreeFall said something very, very strange. “The Ferryman owes you, Axis.” He had to force the words now and Axis could barely hear him. “Learn the secrets and the mysteries of the waterways and bring me home! I will wait at the Gate. Bring me home to EvenSong! Promise!”
Axis nodded. “I promise,” he whispered to his cousin, then staggered with the sudden weight in his arms as FreeFall died. Even if he could have found the time in the midst of this nightmare to sing the Song of Recreation, Axis knew it would be no use. FreeFall had gone.
With his death, FreeFall gave Axis the single most powerful motive he would need to push Achar into civil war. Axis had never before entertained the idea that with his heritage he could seize complete control in Achar; now, in his grief for FreeFall and his horror at Borneheld’s action he did. If Priam and Borneheld refused to unite the Acharites with the Icarii and Avar in order to fight Gorgrael, then Axis knew he was now ready to go to war against them. Civil war in Achar was inevitable.
Axis slid FreeFall gently to the roof, touching the birdman’s forehead briefly in benediction, wishing he had known FreeFall for years instead of only moments, then he stood and looked back at Borneheld. Each knew at that moment that only death would bridge the gap between them. Neither was aware of the commotion about them.
The instant after Borneheld struck FreeFall, Belial had grabbed HoverEye’s arm and hauled him backwards several steps out of the way of the violence. “Listen to me!” Belial whispered fiercely into the shocked birdman’s ear. “Listen to me! I will get Axis to the foot of the Icescarp Alps for you. Are you listening?”
HoverEye, still riveted by the dreadful sight in front of him as Borneheld wrenched the sword from FreeFall’s back, nodded slightly. “Can you and yours meet him there? Birdman? Can you? Or will you let FreeFall die in vain?”
HoverEye finally looked at Belial. He nodded again, some understanding replacing the horror on his face. “Then fly, damn you, fly before Borneheld slaughters you as well!” Belial gave HoverEye a push. “Fly!” HoverEye stared again at FreeFall. Belial literally shook him in frustration. “You can do nothing! He is dead. Now fly! Watch the foot of the mountains for your Axis. Fly!” Belial seized an equally shocked and unmoving SpikeFeather. “Fly!” he whispered hoarsely. “I can do no more for you.”
Both birdmen stretched their wings out and started to lift off; several of the soldiers behind Borneheld saw the movement and raised their bows. “Halt!” Magariz cried, finally shaking himself out of his own shock. “Unnotch those arrows! Let them go!” Reluctantly, the soldiers lowered their bows and watched the two birdmen rise off the roof and wing away towards the Icescarp Alps.
Axis and Borneheld still stared at each other. After a moment Borneheld started to laugh and, leaning down to where FreeFall’s body lay on the roof, wiped his sword clean along the soft white feathers of his wings before sheathing it.
“You will wait till later, I think, brother,” Borneheld said lightly. “I am in a good mood now that I have disposed of one of the filthy Forbidden.”
Axis felt as if he should kill Borneheld here and now; raise his sword and wipe this piece of filth from the face of the earth and the minds of men forever. But, oh FreeFall, his heart cried, if I am to flee to the Icarii and StarDrifter then Borneheld must live to save Faraday! My hands are still tied. But one day…one day…“One day you will die for what you have just done, Borneheld. I swear that I will kill you in just combat for my cousin FreeFall SunSoar’s death. On that day you will join the carrion on the refuse heaps of Achar. Only the crows will tug at the flesh of the Duke of Ichtar, Borneheld, not the sweet words and lying ballads of troubadours. Priam has two heirs, Borneheld, you and I, but you will not live to enjoy your heritage. Eventually I alone will lead Achar against Gorgrael.” Axis’ voice was completely calm, and completely believable and chilling because of that. His eyes were steady, his body relaxed, his sword hanging loose at his side, and yet Borneheld suddenly felt very, very afraid.
“Seize him!” Borneheld cried, as Axis’ final words burned into his memory. Cousin? He had called the dead Forbidden cousin? “Seize him! He is Forbidden himself !”
One of those filth had raped his mother?
Gautier and three other soldiers rushed forward and seized an unresisting Axis. Gautier tore the sword from Axis’ hand and the axe from his belt and threw them across the roof. For weeks he had resented the adulation that Axis commanded from the men stationed in Gorkentown and Gorkenfort. Now he could participate in his downfall; it made him glad, it made him feel strong.
Borneheld stood back and tore his eyes away from Axis’ continuing stare. “Throw him into the dungeons,” he snarled at Gautier. “He will die tomorrow morning hanging from a gibbet like any common criminal!” He turned to the small knot of people behind him. “And throw the body of the Forbidden over the parapets. Let the Skraelings feast on it. I do not want it fouling up the roof of the Keep any longer.”
He stared about him for a moment longer, then he stomped off the roof, Timozel hauling a shocked Faraday after him. Gautier and his men hustled Axis roughly towards the trapdoor.
Jorge and Roland stared at Magariz and Belial, lost. What could they do? Was Axis truly one of the Forbidden? And if so, how should they regard him? Slowly they, too, turned and followed Borneheld, shocked and sickened by the murder they had just witnessed but not yet ready to turn against Borneheld because of it. They were men loyal to the monarchy of Achar, and it was Borneheld who represented the monarchy here in Gorkenfort. Priam was not going to save Achar, but Borneheld just might be able to do so. Axis could hardly be the one to save them if he was to die in the morning. Brave as they were, Jorge and Roland were too old and too set in their beliefs to turn their back on the established and comfortable order in order to help the birth of a new world.
Soon only Magariz and Belial stood on the roof, the bloody body of FreeFall before them. Two of Gautier’s men had tried to drag the body towards the parapets to hurl it down to the Skraelings, but Magariz snarled at them and the men fled.
Magariz stared at FreeFall’s body for a moment longer then turned to Belial. “Are you with Axis?” he asked.
Belial knew what he meant. He nodded. “I and all the Axe-Wielders who are left. We will follow Axis to the pits of the AfterLife if he asks…and if it becomes necessary. We believe, as do the Icarii, that he is the One named in the Prophecy.”
Magariz’s eyes were thoughtful. “Then I am with you, Belial. I am with you.” He paused, uncertainty crossing his handsome face. He had never pledged himself to treachery before, yet, strangely, it did not feel as foul as he thought it might. Indeed, it would have been a betrayal if he had denied Axis, especially after hearing the startling news about Rivkah the Icarii had brought with them. “What do we do now?”
Belial bent down to FreeFall and smoothed the golden hair back from his dead eyes. “Now, Magariz? Now we give FreeFall SunSoar the Office of the Dead that befits his rank and honour, not the dishonour that Borneheld would have him thrown to. Fetch Brothers Ogden and Veremund, they will know what to do. If FreeFall cannot be with his people for his farewell into the AfterLife, then we will be his people for him.”
57
ESCAPE FROM GORKENFORT
FreeFall’s death gave Axis the desire and the anger to live. As he sat alone and cold in the dark and dank dungeons of Gorkenfort he did not give in to self-pity as he had done after the fall of Gorkentown. He owed it to FreeFall to succeed. The dungeon and Borneheld’s threat of death did not concern him. He would live for FreeFall, for the first of his family who had welcomed him home. He had Belial, and Belial had Faraday, and in the end it would be Faraday who would make sure that the way would be clear.
Belial argued with Borneheld, leaning forward from his chair, his face flushed with the force of his argument, knowing he was right, knowing that Borneheld could not resist agreeing with him. Knowing that Borneheld would see Axis’ death in the plan.
?
??My Lord,” he said forcefully. “I care not if I offend with these words. Gorkenfort will not hold. Not even the best commander, not even you, my Lord Duke, could hold it. There are too many men and not enough food. More Skraelings arrive each day while the IceWorms grow larger, in a few days they will be large enough to start disgorging their loads over the top of Gorkenfort’s walls. Soon Gorgrael will strike, and Artor alone knows what he will strike with. It is best now to start thinking of retreating back into Ichtar, and perhaps trying to hold the Skraelings in the gap between the Rivers Azle and Nordra.”
Borneheld’s flinty eyes stared coldly at Belial, but he did not stop him. He had come to the same unpalatable conclusion. He would lose Ichtar, but better lose Ichtar and save the bulk of the army that was left to fight another day. The Skraelings did not like running water and there was a possibility that Achar could hold them back between the Azle and the Nordra. If Borneheld could get himself and his command there alive. “Continue,” he said as Belial paused.
“My Lord Duke, in order that the bulk of the garrison can move south with some hope of arriving alive, there needs to be a force willing to draw the Skraelings away from Gorkenfort. The Axe-Wielders can do that—if Axis leads them, for they will follow no-one else. We are still over fifteen hundred strong and most of our mounts are stabled here. If we can break through the ring of Skraelings we can draw them north east, and you can…” Belial almost said “make a run for it”, but realised they might be the wrong words to use before Borneheld, “…lead the remainder of the garrison south and regroup at Jervois Landing.”