Personally, she would have let the kidnappers do what they wanted with the cursed woman.
And why would anyone want her, anyway?
Oh yes, of course, she was pregnant.
Wasn’t that a cunning move on Ishbel’s part. She probably felt that Maximilian was slipping away from her and so had conceived. She had known from the marriage negotiations how much Maximilian wanted a child, must have thought to herself, Ah yes, I can do anything with him once he knows I am carrying his child…
Who knew if it was Maximilian’s baby anyway?
Damn it! Why couldn’t Maximilian have picked someone else as his wife?
StarWeb grew progressively more ill-tempered as the days and weeks dragged by. In the evenings, when they sheltered by a small fire, or were together at the dining table of a roadside tavern, she reasoned that they’d done enough, they should return to Ruen, and Maximilian would just have to get used to the idea that he’d lost his wife almost as soon as he’d found her.
But none of the others agreed with her. BroadWing EvenBeat was the most vocal. Maximilian was distraught, his wife had been taken from him, she was carrying his child, and Maximilian’s life had already been too wrapped in tragedy to allow it to strike once more.
As if our lives haven’t also been wrapped in enough tragedy, StarWeb always thought at the last argument, but she never spoke the words aloud, knowing BroadWing and her other companions could see it written all over her face.
Besides, it wasn’t just altruism that drove the others onward in their search for Ishbel. It was also joy at having a purpose, joy at being allowed to soar over plain and mountain, joy at being able to discover new lands and skyscapes. It was either search for Ishbel and revel in life as they did so, or return to a useless existence in Ruen or wherever else they drifted.
Ishbel was an excuse, and they refused to let it go.
So they went on, day after day.
From Deepend they’d flown ever south, following a trail toward the FarReach Mountains. At that point StarWeb knew there was no holding Broad-Wing and the others back. The chance to soar over mountains almost as tall as the Icescarp Alps was irresistible, and as much as she hated to admit it, StarWeb enjoyed it as well. They had all missed the Icescarp Alps so much, and to feel once more the power of the thermals generated by the huge mountains…well, some days there was far more soaring done than searching.
Then, on the fifth day of the fourth week of the tenth month, they flew over a ravine, and they saw, far, far below, the thin trail of smoke from a fire.
Reluctantly, for the thermals were particularly enticing on this day, they spiraled downward for a closer look.
They crouched on a rock just below a peak that rose at least a thousand paces from the floor of the ravine.
It was cold here, and uncomfortable, but for the moment the five Icarii huddled close and peered down. Their eyesight was excellent, as good as an eagle’s, and they could very clearly see the group of eight men…and the unmoving figure of a woman shackled to one of the men.
“It is her,” said StarWeb, every word forced out. “See the color of the strand of hair fluttering from beneath the hood? It is Ishbel.”
“Well, she’s alive, at least,” said ViewSky, one of the other Icarii. “She may not be moving, but they’d not shackle her if she wasn’t still breathing.”
“They’re taking her into the Tyranny of Isembaard,” said BroadWing. “Why, I wonder?”
StarWeb didn’t care. All she wanted now was to get out of here. Even the mere sight of Ishbel made her almost nauseated with hatred.
“We’ll need to report this to Maximilian,” she said. “It’ll be a long flight back to Ruen.”
“No,” said BroadWing. “We need to rescue her.”
“No!” said StarWeb. “Stars, BroadWing! We cannot try to rescue her! There are more of them than us, and—”
“We don’t fly away and leave her,” said BroadWing. “Dear gods, StarWeb, she’s pregnant! And they’ve shackled her! Stars alone knows what else they have done to her…look, they’re eating, but Ishbel not. We rescue her.”
StarWeb looked to the others for support, but they were all nodding at BroadWing.
Suddenly StarWeb felt very ill. They were going to risk their lives for that cursed woman?
“Imagine,” said ViewSky, “Maximilian’s face when we arrive back at Ruen with Ishbel.”
StarWeb did not know how ViewSky, or any of the others, imagined the manner in which they were going to transport the fair and ailing Ishbel back to Ruen…if one of them wanted to carry her, then they could bloody well do it without her aid.
“I think I have a plan,” said BroadWing.
CHAPTER SIX
Palace of the First, Yoyette, Coroleas
StarDrifter was more than slightly drunk. Not just with alcohol, although he’d surely had enough of that, but also with hope and purpose and joy. He didn’t like Ba’al’uz, and he didn’t particularly trust him, but he appreciated him.
Ba’al’uz was reinvigorating his life.
While the concept of once more touching the Star Dance was exhilarating, the other piece of news about Axis was the supreme joy for StarDrifter. Suddenly the universe seemed a much less lonely place. His son was back! StarDrifter could not wait to embrace him.
He wanted to be with Axis, desperately.
He wanted to escape the Corolean court, desperately.
All this Ba’al’uz offered him, with the added pleasure of not only being able to rescue at least one soul from its accursed imprisonment within a bronze shell (and that soul the most pitiful of all, the Weeper), but in the doing being able to destroy Salome. For StarDrifter, Salome epitomized the immorality, the cruelty, and the sheer horror of the life of the Corolean nobility. People had often criticized the Icarii for being arrogant, unfeeling, and selfish, but the Icarii were innocents in the arts of immorality and arrogance when compared to such as Salome and all she represented.
He and Ba’al’uz had retired to StarDrifter’s tiny chamber in the bowels of the Palace of the First. StarDrifter had always hated this chamber, representing for him everything that had gone wrong with his life. It was deep underground, not having even a window, and there was nothing worse for an Icarii than to feel trapped underground, lacking the ability to soar. It was tiny, constantly reminding StarDrifter of all the grandeur he had lost. It was pitiful, constantly emphasizing StarDrifter’s own pathetic existence. It was plain, utterly unadorned, and drab, when all Icarii gloried in color and vibrancy.
Ba’al’uz and StarDrifter both had to sit on the narrow bed pushed hard against one wall—there was no chair. StarDrifter had managed to purloin from the kitchen several jugs of rough ale, and they sat, drinking from the jugs—they had not even glasses or mugs.
“Tell me, then,” said StarDrifter, “how easy is it going to be for me to steal the Weeper for you?”
The Weeper, the most desired deity in all of Coroleas, renowned for its ability to grant its owner almost anything he or she wished.
“Very easy,” said Ba’al’uz. He had matched StarDrifter swallow for swallow, and now his eyes glittered, his cheeks glowed, and his mouth and chin were moist with spilled ale. “You seduce Salome—all know the Weeper is kept in her bedchamber—and then while she sleeps in postcoital abandonment, you take the Weeper, meet me outside, and we flee the palace for Isembaard.”
StarDrifter laughed. “No wonder you need me, Ba’al’uz. You’d not have a hope of seducing a mouse, let alone the beautiful Duchess of Sidon.”
Something shifted momentarily in Ba’al’uz’ face, but then the addled, happy look slipped back into place. “You can seduce her, yes?”
StarDrifter remembered Salome’s look of interest at him on Fillip Day, and he also remembered his speculation regarding her Icarii blood.
“Yes,” he said softly, “I know precisely how to seduce her.” He took another swallow of his ale. “But, tell me this, my newfound friend—Salome has b
een taking lovers into that bedchamber of hers for years. No doubt many of them have hoped she would slip into a postcoital slumber deep enough that they might risk dashing off with the Weeper. I appreciate that you think my lovemaking skills so extraordinary that I might exhaust the lady when none before have managed the feat, but still…”
“Ah,” said Ba’al’uz, “I have a small pessary locked away in my bag. It is a most potent pessary. It shall send her into a slumber so profound that she shall not wake for an entire day.”
“Really. And this pessary goes…?”
Ba’al’uz smiled, the expression cold and uncompromising, and told StarDrifter.
StarDrifter laughed again, a little uncomfortably this time. “Well, I suppose if I’m going to sleep with the woman anyway…But there is another problem.”
“Then I shall solve it for you.”
“I have heard also that no one can touch the Weeper without it…weeping. Not just weeping, but screaming, sobbing, and calling much unwanted attention to itself. Only its master or mistress can handle it without the deity calling down retribution upon its unwanted handler.”
“I think I have the—”
“Think?”
“Well, neither of us will know until the theory is tested, will we?” Ba’al’uz paused, holding StarDrifter’s somewhat incredulous stare. “But I am very sure that this will quiet the Weeper…”
“Yes?”
“Before you touch it, introduce yourself, then tell it that you want to take it home.”
“And where might that be?”
“Tell the Weeper that you wish to take him home to the Lord of Elcho Falling. It shall want nothing more than to go home to Elcho Falling, StarDrifter. He will come with you then, of that I am sure.” Kanubai had whispered this plan to Ba’al’uz the night before, and Ba’al’uz had no reason to doubt its efficacy, although he certainly doubted Kanubai would ever allow the Weeper anywhere near Elcho Falling or its lord.
“And you can free him?” StarDrifter said.
“Yes,” Ba’al’uz said, his voice so gentle it brought tears to StarDrifter’s eyes, “I can free him. We’ll take him home to the Lord of Elcho Falling, and we’ll take you back to your son. Two lives, regained. Two sorrows, erased.”
“Then I’m your man,” said StarDrifter.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Southern Reaches of the FarReach Mountains
Ishbel was not quite unconscious, drifting in that half-awake land where all sensations and perceptions are grossly distorted. Her eight captors were seated about a fire, eating, and their conversation filtered into Ishbel’s mind as if it came through water. She could understand none of their words, and she made no attempt to understand. All Ishbel wanted was to sleep, to shut out the world and everything happening to her, to drift away, and just not know. They had given her drugs before they’d begun to eat, and even though her body was now becoming accustomed to their effect, she could feel the seductive pull of them as they coursed through her blood, and she willed herself to submit and sink deep into unconsciousness.
She was almost there, almost unknowing, then there was some manner of commotion. Several of the Eight started to their feet, their abrupt action making Ishbel open her eyes.
She could not see very well, but it appeared to her as if the men were all staring farther down the ravine.
Ishbel didn’t care, and closed her eyes. It might have been a bear, or a pack of wolves or bandits, but she didn’t care. Just so long as they allowed her to drift into—
One of the men shouted, a cry of pure alarm, and Ishbel jerked her eyes open once more. Two of the men had started down the ravine, but Zeboul, the senior of the Eight, had called them back.
Ishbel thought she heard something above her, and tried to shift her head so she could look up.
But, oh, it was so hard, and she was so tired.
More sound. Definitely something above her. Ishbel made a huge effort, and managed to turn over far enough that she could look up to the sky.
There appeared to be two shapes spiraling down toward her.
Eagles! Terror swept through Ishbel. She wasn’t strong enough to fend them off, and they would peck at her face, her eyes…
More noise about the fire, and Ishbel thought she saw a faint shadow, but she was now staring, fixated, at the blurry but huge shapes spiraling closer and closer.
Sounds of fighting to her right, but Ishbel ignored them.
Oh, gods, gods, the shapes were Icarii!
Ishbel struggled to speak, to call out to them, to raise her hand.
To her right the sounds of fighting intensified, as also did the shadow—it seemed almost as if her immediate vicinity was being encased in a false dusk.
The Icarii landed at her side, and one of them bent over her.
“You have no idea what a trouble you have been, you bitch,” StarWeb hissed, and then her head exploded in a mass of bone and tissue.
A heartbeat later, the male Icarii behind StarWeb, reeling back in shock at her death, also exploded, and Ishbel gave a great cry, only to choke on feathers and pulverized flesh.
Axis had been riding at the head of his column, heading for the opening to a ravine at the foot of the FarReach Mountains, when he heard the faint sound of fighting.
Adrenaline rushed through him. He pulled his sword from its scabbard, booted his horse into a gallop, and yelled at his men to do likewise.
Axis had only been some fifty paces from the entrance to the ravine when he’d urged his horse forward, and it had taken only moments for him to round the tumble of boulders that hid his view of the ravine.
The sight that met his eyes filled him with horror.
There were a group of men, who Axis recognized as those who had traveled north with Ba’al’uz, fighting with four or five Icarii—the whole encased in a writhing gray cloud that Axis instantly recognized as power. All his senses told him it was being used for a foul purpose.
Then, as he drew close, two of the Icarii, who had been standing over a bound figure lying on the ground, exploded.
Something cracked within Axis’ heart.
Two more Icarii were struggling with Ba’al’uz’ men, and then they, too, exploded.
Axis screamed, driving his horse directly into the melee.
There was a fifth Icarii, struggling to rise from the ground some distance away, but for the moment Axis ignored him. He raised his sword, and brought it down in a great arc, taking the head of one of Ba’al’uz’ men.
Within the instant his men were with him, and the remainder of Ba’al’uz’ men, stunned by the sudden attack, and losing whatever grip on power they’d had, dispersed and started to run.
Axis was overwhelmed, not only with the sudden, unexpected sight of Icarii, but with their almost simultaneous deaths. Right now, trying to catch the remaining men was not a priority, and he let them go. He jumped down from his horse, glanced at the woman lying some distance away, who he supposed must be Ishbel, then at the Icarii now rising to his feet.
The birdman was staring at him in complete disbelief.
“StarMan?” he said.
Axis walked slowly toward him, then halted as he saw the Icarii tense. For all he knew, Axis was a phantasm. Axis looked at him carefully, desperately trying to put a name to the face, which he’d recognized from his days of leading the Strike Force.
“BroadWing,” he said. “BroadWing EvenBeat.”
BroadWing relaxed, just a fraction, and nodded. “How is it you are here?” he said.
Axis gave a slight shrug. “By a magic I do not understand. No one else has come back. You?”
“I was stationed in Ruen when Tencendor collapsed, StarMan. There are some six thousand of us scattered about.”
“Call me Axis, please. My title of StarMan is now useless.”
The conversation was starting to feel surreal to Axis. What was left of the bodies of four Icarii lay about, and Ishbel, Queen of Escator, lay moaning to one side, grasping at thin air
with one weak hand.
BroadWing saw the direction of Axis’ glance. “We were trying to rescue her,” he said. “She is—”
“I know who she is. Look, BroadWing, you cannot possibly take her back to Escator by yourself, and she looks too ill for us to linger here long enough for you to fetch aid. Furthermore, she is in no condition to attempt a journey back through the FarReach Mountains—and no Icarii could carry her that distance. I will take care of her. Tell Maximilian that. She will be safe. I promise it.”
“When was any woman ever safe with you, Axis SunSoar?”
Axis gave a small smile. “She will be safe, BroadWing. Tell Maximilian not to worry.”
“He loves her, Axis. He will tear the earth apart for her. Keep your word, I pray you. And…” He looked about, and Axis saw his face crumple in grief at the sight of his companions.
“I will farewell them, BroadWing,” Axis said.
BroadWing hesitated, clearly torn about what to do. “Axis, what was that power those men used?”
“I fear very much it was something ancient and highly malignant,” said Axis. “BroadWing, listen, I need to get Ishbel to a town and a physician as fast as I can. Do you want to come with us?”
He turned about as he said this, to indicate his armed escort, and realized for the first time how they stood, staring at BroadWing.
They’d never seen an Icarii before, and their expressions wavered between the hostile and the curious.
“I think I will report back to Maximilian,” said BroadWing. “Axis, you will farewell my companions?”
Axis nodded. “Tell Maximilian I will take care of her.”
BroadWing gave a small, cynical smile at that last. “He will come for her, Axis.”
“I have no doubt,” Axis said quietly.
With a final nod, BroadWing lifted off and spiraled rapidly into the sky.