Have I judged wrong? Caelum wondered. Do these men crave a human King and an Achar more than they crave a SunSoar-led Tencendor?
But even if they do, he reasoned quickly before his doubts crippled him, they should not be allowed to have it. No, this rebellion must be stopped now, before it went too much further.
He walked slowly back towards camp. The West and North, traditionally the areas from which the majority of a ground force could be recruited, were largely lost to him. That left Nor in the south, and the vast eastern territories, governed by FreeFall, Talon of the Icarii, in conjunction with Isfrael, Mage-King of the Avar. In the spring or summer he could also have called on the Ravensbundmen, but now they were lost in the northern icepacks, hunting their seals.
Nor. Prince Yllgaine had sent word that he rode to Caelum’s side. But it would be some weeks before Yllgaine could get a force to help Caelum. Normally Yllgaine would have sailed troops up the Nordra, save that the traitorous Carlon sat on the waterway like a spider waiting to snatch at them, so they were coming north on horseback instead. Another three weeks at least. At least. It was not easy to raise an army in an hour or two.
And the rest of the east? There were the populous plains of Skarabost and Arcness. But populated with Acharites – and how many of them might elect to slip past Caelum and run helter-skelter for their shiny new King?
That left the Avar and the Icarii.
Caelum’s boot heel caught in a small hole and he cursed as he tripped and almost fell. Had it come back to this? Avar and Icarii against the Acharites? It was the Wars of the Axe all over again, save for the name.
And all due to the damned ambition of Zared. Axis should have done more to ensure that line stayed dead and buried than just declare the throne destroyed. Rivkah should never have been allowed to bear that child. Never.
Caelum shivered. In the time it’d take him to raise a force capable of striking back, Zared would have consolidated his own position. Ample time for him to raise more mischief to tear the realm apart.
He quickened his stride. In a few weeks he would meet what forces Marrat could muster, as well as Yllgaine’s horsemen, in the northern plains of Arcness. Between then and now he had to raise what he could from the Icarii and, possibly, the Avar. Although what his strange half-brother would give him was debatable.
Askam stood waiting for Caelum just beyond the camp’s perimeter. He had gained strength over the past weeks, although his face was still unnaturally thin and prematurely lined. Askam had not found pain the best of companions. His jacket sleeve flapped uselessly in the wind; Askam refused to pin it out of the way, saying that he did not want to hide Zared’s cruelty from the world. Of all the major players, Askam had lost the most from this sudden descent into hostility. Virtually the entire West had abandoned him for Zared.
Along with his sister.
“When do we move out?” he asked.
“Are you rested enough?”
“Dammit, I am not an invalid! When?”
Caelum let his eyes drift over the mountains to the south-east. The Minaret Peaks.
“In the morning,” he said. “At dawn. You and I to the Minaret Peaks. DareWing will meet us at FreeFall’s court. Unit commander Froisson will lead the rest of the force into the Rhaetian hills to await our return in their shelter.”
“The Icarii will assist us,” Askam said, his voice cracking.
Caelum looked at him. “I surely hope so.”
“FreeFall is family. He must help you!”
Zared is family, too, yet see what he does, Caelum thought. But he smiled and clapped Askam on his right shoulder and led him back to their tent.
The Minaret Peaks had once been known as the Bracken Ranges, but that was before Faraday had planted out the Minstrelsea forest that crowded their slopes, and before the Icarii Enchanters had recovered the ancient cities that had lain buried under enchantments during their thousand-year exile. Now the ranges that ran from eastern Rhaetia to the Widowmaker Sea were crowded with minarets and spires that rose from the magical forest of Minstrelsea. It was a beautiful and mysterious region of Tencendor, and Caelum regretted that war had brought him here for the first time in almost fifteen years.
He should have left Sigholt more, he realised as he and Askam cantered their horses towards the first of the trees. He should have showed himself more to the peoples he led. No wonder the greater number of humans now flocked to a man they could – at the very least – put a face to.
The paths of the forest were cool and calming, and Caelum ordered they rein their horses back to a walk.
“Why?” Askam demanded. “We have no time to saunter along these paths, StarSon. We are on a mission of war, not a picnic.”
“Nevertheless,” Caelum said, “Minstrelsea does not like horsemen rushing about her paths. Do you not hear how she sings? Can you not feel her beauty?”
Caelum’s Enchanter powers opened him to the more magical of Minstrelsea’s songs, but he knew that ordinary mortals could well sense – if not completely hear – the music that floated about the trees. He let it relax him, let it comfort him.
His eyes drifted to the strange creatures that cavorted in the shadowy spaces and light-dappled glades. Diamond-eyed dragons crawled along branches and luminescent badgers snuffled beneath bushes. And others, yet stranger.
Askam pulled his horse back with bad grace. Stars! But it would take them six weeks at this pace!
But he had underestimated the magic of Minstrelsea. It was not yet gone noon when he noticed an Icarii birdman standing in the centre of the path before them.
“StarFever HighCrest,” Caelum said, pulling up his horse as he recognised FreeFall’s Master Secretary of the Palace. “I greet you well.”
StarFever bowed low. Every last speck of him, whether feather or robe, was a saffron orange. “And I you, StarSon. The Talon received word two days ago of your visit, and he and his wife have been eager to meet with you.”
Caelum tried to ignore Askam’s obvious impatience at StarFever’s long-winded speech; StarFever had gained his position for his skill at protocol, not his reticence.
“It has been too long since I last visited the Spires, StarFever.”
“Then let me lead the way, StarSon,” and StarFever turned and strutted in stately fashion down the forest path.
Caelum cautioned Askam into patience with a sharp glance, and they pushed their horses after the Master Secretary.
StarFever led them deeper and deeper into the forest. After some time Caelum noted that while trees still soared to each side of the path, shapes also humped just under the moss-covered soil, too regular to be natural. A few more minutes down the path low structures began to snake their way through the trees, and then resolve themselves into walls that soared towards the sky.
“Gods!” Askam breathed, his impatience forgotten as he realised that massive buildings filled the spaces between the trees – yet harmonised so completely with the forest that they added to the impression of space and light between the trees. Their walls were of pastel-coloured stone, sometimes shading towards pink, sometimes towards mauve, sometimes towards gold, and they curved and fell and soared into arches and cloisters and columns and spires.
“The minarets reach at least three hundred paces into the sky,” Caelum said in a low voice to Askam as StarFever led them off the path towards a wide archway. “And tunnels and chambers are carved deep into the mountains themselves. The Minaret Peaks are honeycombed into Icarii wonders. Have you never been here?”
Askam shook his head, dismounted where StarFever indicated and handed the reins to a man of solid build and dark eyes and skin. An Avar. The people of the forest.
Caelum noticed Askam watching the Avar man, and wondered if this was also the first time he’d seen one of the forest people. The Avar rarely ventured out of their forest homes, whether the Minstrelsea or the Avarinheim, and many Acharites were initially wary of their formidable build and fierce expressions. But the Avar lived pea
ceful lives, deeply attuned to the cycles of the seasons and the needs of the earth.
StarFever bowed to the Avar man. “I thank you and yours for your help, Heddle. Will you keep the horses well until StarSon and his companion return?”
Heddle nodded, his eyes skipping over Askam to rest on Caelum. He inclined his head, but he did not bow. “You are welcome among the trees, StarSon.”
Caelum thanked him, then he and Askam followed StarFever into the world of the Spires.
This was truly an Icarii wonderland. The walls of the wide and high passageways glowed with a soft radiance that owed more to magic than any lamp. Above their heads flew jewel-bright Icarii, and through the doors and archways they passed could be glimpsed chambers and spaces that led even deeper into the mountain. Soft murmurs of voices and music drifted through the air.
Why did I leave it so long before coming back? Caelum wondered again, and before he could answer his own rhetorical question, StarFever had led them into an enormous chamber underneath one of the spires, and FreeFall was hurrying to greet them.
FreeFall hugged Caelum, then turned to Askam.
“By the Stars, Askam!” he said, shocked. “What has happened to you?”
“He lost his arm in the explosion that destroyed Kastaleon,” Caelum put in before Askam could respond.
FreeFall swung his violet gaze back to Caelum. “Not only Askam’s arm, but over four thousand lives were lost, I believe.”
Caelum nodded soberly. “Whatever Zared packed into the cellars of that castle was murderously spiteful.”
FreeFall sighed, and beckoned Askam and Caelum over to a round table situated directly under the spire. Caelum glanced upwards as they approached. Smooth walls adorned with gold and silver swirls fled upwards towards a speck of blue sky at the apex of the spire. Even Caelum, with his Enchanter heritage and Icarii blood, felt a moment of dizziness.
He looked down, and there was FreeFall’s wife, EvenSong, to greet him.
EvenSong smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “It has been too long since you have visited our home, Caelum.” She turned, exclaimed over Askam as FreeFall had done, then indicated the chairs about the table.
DareWing FullHeart was already waiting for them, and greeted Caelum and Askam as they sat down.
“I have heard the news from the West,” FreeFall said without preamble. “I can hardly believe that Zared would have gone so far.” He glanced at Askam’s empty sleeve again, and Askam smiled bitterly.
“Another Borneheld has swept down from the north,” he said.
“Hardly Borneheld,” EvenSong put in softly, her eyes steady on Askam.
“What difference?” Askam said. “Did not both seize the throne through vileness and treachery? Does not Zared seek to tear the realm apart as once did Borneheld?”
“No,” EvenSong said, more strongly now. “I will not credit that Zared is another Borneheld, Prince Askam. He has done wrong, surely, and for that he must pay, but he does not have the narrow mind and the cruelty of –”
“You were not there to see Kastaleon torn apart,” Askam cried, scraping his chair back. “You did not have to endure the smell as four and a half thousand screaming men burned in that inferno!”
“Askam,” Caelum said, “be still. EvenSong, Askam makes a good point. You did not have your arm torn off, nor did you have to watch the graves being dug for your command.”
“This is counterproductive,” FreeFall said as EvenSong dropped her eyes. “I care not whether Zared takes after his elder and unlamented brother Borneheld or not. What I do care about is making sure that Tencendor regains peace as soon as possible. I find no joy in contemplating the resurrection of Achar and all that it implies.”
Caelum placed both his hands flat on the table. “Quite. FreeFall, EvenSong, this must be resolved by action, not diplomacy. It has gone too far to be solved with words.”
“No action ever goes so far that it can’t be solved by –”
“Nevertheless,” Caelum snapped, stopping EvenSong dead. “I cannot ignore the fact that Zared is raising an army in the west, and I cannot ignore the fact that he claims he will not relinquish the throne unless he is forced to do so. Dammit! What is it about brothers that they torment the SunSoars so?”
There was silence as Caelum restrained his anger. “This will not be solved with words,” he said again, staring EvenSong in the eye, “but with war. As Zared prepares for war, then so must I. DareWing?”
DareWing straightened on his stool. “The Strike Force are within two days of the Rhaetian hills, StarSon. They will arrive well rested, ready for action.”
“You cannot use the Strike Force against humans!” EvenSong cried. “Axis was ever loath to do it.”
“I will do as I must, EvenSong.”
“But that would open the scars of the past as nothing else would, Caelum. You cannot do it!”
“EvenSong makes sense,” FreeFall said. “I did not want to see Zared take the throne of Achar, but using the Strike Force to retake Carlon is…too dreadful to consider.”
Caelum sat silently, remembering his earlier thoughts that this could all too easily disintegrate into another Wars of the Axe.
“What else can I do?” he eventually asked. “What? There is no ground force I can use to defeat him because the majority of the north and west swings behind Zared. FreeFall, even the Strike Force may not be enough. Not to take a city the size of Carlon – or even Arcness, should that also decide to throw in its lot with Zared. And the Strike Force, impressive as it is, cannot patrol the entire realm.”
He looked about the table, then let his gaze rest once again on FreeFall. “I need more, FreeFall. Will the Icarii help me?”
FreeFall’s eyes widened, and he looked at his wife before replying. “Caelum, cannot the Lake Guard help? They are at least six hundred, and as skilled at arms as the Strike Force.”
“I am wary about taking them from Sigholt.” Caelum had begun to wonder if the Lake Guard had some connection with the craft at the foot of the Sacred Lakes. For the moment, he preferred to keep them where they were in case they could provide information about the TimeKeepers or, more importantly, in case they might somehow be able to help against that danger. But he did not want to tell FreeFall that. As yet only himself, WolfStar, SpikeFeather and the Star Gods understood what was threatening from the stars. No-one within that group wanted to spread the knowledge until they understood more clearly the nature of the peril.
“Well, then,” FreeFall said, sharing another, more anxious glance with EvenSong. “What about Nor? Ysgryff brought some nine thousand to Axis’ cause, as I remember.”
“That was forty years ago. Of those nine thousand most are dead, and Yllgaine did not keep up the same level of military preparedness that his father did. After all,” Caelum continued bitterly, “we all thought to have entered a time of peace. Yllgaine can send me perhaps four thousand. No more.
“FreeFall, I need the assistance of the Icarii. Every one of the adults has spent a few years in the Strike Force. There must be thousands among you who could be retrained to fight.”
“No!” FreeFall banged his fist on the table. “Caelum, understand this. I abhor what Zared has done, and I fear it beyond words. But I fear more what would happen if I mobilised the Icarii nation against the Acharites. I think I would prefer to see Achar reborn in the West before I set Icarii against human again. Caelum, we are all children of the Enchantress.”
“So tell me what you will do, Talon of the Icarii,” Askam said, leaning forward over the table, his eyes glittering, “once you see men falling down in worship of the Plough in Zared’s West? What then, Talon?”
“Artor is dead,” said FreeFall. “There is no need to fear the worship of the Plough.”
“But the hatreds that built the Seneschal may only be simmering beneath the surface. What else might they build? What other Seneschals?”
“You must know!” FreeFall snapped. “As you are Acharite yourself! Tell us, Askam, w
hat to fear!”
“Peace!” Caelum cried into the tension. “I do not want us warring against each other! FreeFall, I accept your answer. For now.” His voice hardened. “But know that I may well return and demand your aid if I find myself desperate enough for it. I am StarSon, I sit the Throne of the Stars, and I can damn well order you to provide what you will not willingly give!”
FreeFall blanched and sat back. Caelum leaned forward and stabbed a finger across the table. “You gave your homage and fealty to my parents, and that homage and fealty extends to me. Do not underestimate me, FreeFall. I can and will demand it of you if I have to.”
DareWing, who had been watching and listening in silence, regarded Caelum with speculative eyes. StarSon had been indecisive and unsure in the early weeks of this crisis, but in the past hour DareWing had seen Caelum show more spirit than he had in months. Well, some men needed a crisis to push them into their full potential. Was Axis’ blood finally making its mark on the man?
FreeFall nodded stiffly. “As you will, StarSon.”
They sat silently, staring, until EvenSong smiled a little too brightly. “And what other news, Caelum?”
Caelum looked away from FreeFall reluctantly. “My other nemesis, Drago. I have reason to believe that he passed through Minstrelsea some weeks ago. Have you any reports of him?”
Both EvenSong and FreeFall shook their heads. “It is strange,” EvenSong said, “that he was not noticed. Many feet walk the paths of Minstrelsea, seen and unseen, and there would be many eyes to mark his passing. But we have heard nothing. If Drago was moving south, then perhaps he took a route other than Minstrelsea.”
Maybe, Caelum thought, then thrust Drago to the back of his mind again. His father would deal with him. “Is Isfrael within the northern groves?” he asked FreeFall.
FreeFall nodded slowly. “You do not think of asking him for aid? The Avar would hardly –”
“I must,” Caelum said quietly, “since the Icarii refuse.” This was a journey Askam could not participate in. Caelum used his power – and he had to expend such an effort! – to transfer into the northern groves of the Avarinheim forest where Isfrael had his court.