“Yes,” Axis said and, in a low voice, told Maximilian not only about the manner of his daughter’s death, but of the relationship between Isaiah and Ishbel.
At the end of it, Maximilian put his empty mug down, lowered his face once more into his hands, and wept. Axis put a hand on his shoulder, and for ten minutes or more they sat there, two men sharing grief, companionship, and understanding.
“Isaiah keeps on about this Lord of Elcho Falling,” Axis said eventually. “Who is he, Maximilian?”
Maximilian gave a deep sigh, releasing the last of the emotion spent over the past minutes. “I am the Lord of Elcho Falling,” he said and, at Axis’ surprised look, continued. “The title of King of Escator is the far lesser of the Persimius titles. Elcho Falling is an ancient kingdom that encompassed virtually the entire continent above the FarReach Mountains. As a kingdom it broke up into many individual independent realms well over two thousand years ago. The ancient line of Persimius, which controls the hereditary titles of Elcho Falling, retains the crown and the ancient rings of office. We do not like to anticipate the day when we shall be required to wear the crown once more.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is a thing of darkness,” Maximilian said, his tone now short. He rose, handing his mug back to Axis. “I thank you for both the tea and the companionship, Axis. Perhaps we shall have time for more of both over the coming days. Now, do you know where I might find Isaiah? Without Ishbel, if you please.”
Isaiah turned from the two generals with whom he’d been consulting, saw Maximilian waiting just inside the door of the chamber, and waved the generals away.
“Well,” Isaiah said as he walked over, “it is easy to see that you did not spend a good night.”
“Don’t preach to me, Isaiah. We need to talk.”
“Indeed, but I thought I’d tried last night to—”
“That was a shitty time to approach me, Isaiah, as well you know.”
“So tell me,” Isaiah said, “to whom do I speak today? The somewhat bedraggled King of Escator…or the Lord of Elcho Falling?”
“I do not yet wear the crown, Isaiah.”
“But you are prepared to accept it.”
There was a long pause, in which Maximilian would not meet Isaiah’s eyes.
Then, finally, Maximilian shifted his gaze back to Isaiah’s. “Yes,” he said.
Isaiah’s shoulders visibly slumped in relief. “Thank the gods,” he mumbled.
“What is happening?” Maximilian said. “Can you show me?”
Isaiah led the way to a large map unrolled across a table. “The Skraelings spent the past eighteen months massing in the north. Currently they are swarming south, heading…”
“For the FarReach Mountains,” Maximilian said. He paused a moment, one finger tapping idly at the map. “This isn’t an ‘invasion’ force you command at all, is it, Isaiah?”
“No,” said Isaiah, “it is an evacuation. See…” His finger traced a path through the FarReach Mountains, then down the territory to the west of the River Lhyl. “The Skraelings will seethe down through the western parts of Isembaard toward where Kanubai waits, there to form his army. I have emptied that part of Isembaard as best I can…and encouraged families of the army to travel north with their husbands and fathers.”
“Then why not just simply call it an evacuation?”
“An ‘invasion’ was the only means I could manage an evacuation, Maximilian. If I had suddenly announced that my tyranny was to be invaded by an army of wraiths, flocking to their newly risen ghastly commander, I would have been dead within a day by the hand of one of my generals. An invasion they can understand, an evacuation not. They would have seen it as a weakness on my part.”
“And Ishbel? Why bring her here, Isaiah? Why—”
“No one planned for her to come to Isembaard, Maximilian. Believe it or not, all I and Lister have ever wanted was to see her safe with you.”
“But still you managed to seduce her.”
“Maximilian—”
Maximilian waved a hand. “Leave it.”
“She is not happy with me, Maximilian.”
“Leave it, I said!”
“Then stop bringing it up!” Isaiah snapped. He took a deep breath, and inclined his head slightly. “I apologize.”
Maximilian was not sure what it was that Isaiah apologized for—seducing Ishbel or for snarling his response—but inclined his own head in acknowledgment of the apology. He wondered if they were going to spend their entire lives alternatively snapping and inclining their heads at each other.
“I will go north with you,” Maximilian said. “It makes sense. We are, I suppose, headed for the same place.”
Elcho Falling.
“Maximilian,” Isaiah said. “Can you do it? Can you assume the mantle of the Lord of Elcho Falling?”
Maximilian thought about all the empty spaces and chambers within the Twisted Tower, all the lost knowledge. “Who cares what I answer, Isaiah? I am all that you—and Elcho Falling—have.”
On his way back to his apartments, trying to work out in his head what he could say to Ravenna, Maximilian literally walked into Ishbel as he turned a corner.
They sprang back from each other.
There was a stunningly awkward moment.
“Sorry,” Maximilian and Ishbel both said at the same time, then both reddened, looking away.
The moment had passed where they could have just walked away from each other. Now they were going to have to pass a few words, at the very least.
“I said some cruel things last night,” Maximilian finally said, taking all his courage in hand to look Ishbel in the face. “I should not have done. I apologize.”
It was the day for apologies, he thought.
“What you heard and saw would have tested anyone’s patience, Maximilian. I, ah, I just…I can’t believe you came all this way for me.”
“There was no reason for you to believe it. Not the way I’d treated you after Borchard’s death.”
There was another awkward silence.
“I suppose you’ll be leaving soon,” said Ishbel, her voice now slightly strained.
“No. I will be traveling north with Isaiah’s army.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sure there will be enough room for us to avoid each other.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“Ravenna seems a nice girl,” Ishbel said, both her color and her tone revealing her desperation to find something to say.
Ravenna seems a nice girl. If it had been under any other circumstances Maximilian would likely have smiled at Ishbel’s distracted attempts to keep conversation going. He might even have laughed.
But not after last night.
Guilt swept through him, stronger than ever before. “Yes,” he said, “Ravenna is a nice girl.”
Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Ishbel staring after him.
CHAPTER TWO
Salamaan Pass, Northern Kingdoms
Axis had led some massive armies in his time, but nothing like what Isaiah now commanded, nor had he ever managed to trail behind such an army with half of their wives and children and great-aunts, not to mention livestock and worldly goods. He would not have liked to lead this number of people (almost a million, by the stars! ) and he most certainly would not have liked to be responsible for its organization. Isaiah, however, managed it without apparent effort, or concern, or a single worry line down the center of his tanned forehead.
The running, organization, and movement of this unbelievable column of people certainly kept his generals busy, and it most definitely kept Axis running from the time he rose in the morning until that blessed hour when he could hit his sleeping roll late at night. Isaiah had ordered the march forward three days after Maximilian and his party had arrived in Sakkuth. Getting the army (and its innumerable followers) on the move had been like trying to waken a vast, grudging, sleepy monster—but once wakened, it was s
eemingly impossible to stop. Axis was not sure that the entire column ever did halt. There always seemed to be some part of it snaking forward. Ten thousand may stop here for a meal and a rest, but somewhere else ten thousand rose from their sleeping rolls, and stretched, then picked up their packs and weapons and trudged forward yet once more.
Isaiah traveled in a relatively small convoy of commanders. He lived as one of the soldiers, and moved his convoy between others within the greater column. Isaiah’s convoy was Axis’ “home” within the vast mass marching forward, but he tended to see Isaiah only once every two or three days as Isaiah constantly had him traveling between different sections, probing, delivering orders, chatting to commanders, receiving reports, laughing, shouting, and sometimes sitting down for a few minutes with his harp, entertaining men grouped about fires with songs and tales from the myth and reality of Tencendor. Axis spoke with generals and foot soldiers alike, and covered leagues of territory every day as he moved about his appointed tasks.
Each day was hectic and tiring beyond belief, but Axis loved it. He gained a sense of the army, of its structure, its abilities, its heart and soul, which would otherwise have been virtually impossible.
Nonetheless, it surprised him when, a few days after they’d entered the Salamaan Pass, and about ten after they’d left Sakkuth, a group of men in a section he passed on his horse called out to him, and cheered him as he went, as if he were their chief instead of Isaiah.
His father, StarDrifter, and Maximilian and the others of their party, traveled in their own convoy, which kept to its strictly appointed place in the overall army. They were not guarded as such, but Axis was aware that Isaiah had set men to watching them.
Maximilian had mostly kept to himself since he’d arrived in Sakkuth. He had spoken with Isaiah on several occasions that Axis knew about, but Axis did not think he’d seen Ishbel. StarDrifter had told Axis that Maximilian spent a great deal of time alone, that he appeared preoccupied with something, whether Ishbel or some other worry, and that only Ravenna had any real contact with him.
Axis knew that Ishbel and Isaiah now spent their time apart. Ishbel traveled with Isaiah’s convoy, but Isaiah had made a great show of saying that he now slept on the ground with his troops rather than in a softer bed. Axis interpreted that as meaning Ishbel did not want him near her.
Unhappiness prevailed, and Axis wished that Isaiah, Ishbel, and Maximilian could sort out the mess among them. He was, to be frank, surprised that Maximilian remained with Isaiah’s column, but supposed that traveling with this massive convoy, which was, after all, heading directly north, was the most direct route home for Maximilian. He would hardly want to scramble his independent way back through the mountains with little food and support.
It must, nonetheless, be galling for him to travel with the invader.
There was something going on that Axis did not understand, and he found that unbelievably frustrating.
On this day, a half hour or more after Axis had been surprised by the cheer that went up for him from some of Isaiah’s soldiers as he’d ridden past, he saw StarDrifter and Maximilian riding up ahead. His father’s wings, as Salome’s, had emerged about a week ago, accompanied by much moaning and groaning (according to Salome, who swore it wasn’t anywhere near as painful as childbirth and she didn’t know what StarDrifter was complaining about) from StarDrifter and a few choice swear words that had surprised even Salome.
While their wings had now emerged completely from their backs, they were yet to fully fledge and muscle, so thus far neither could fly. Both of them grew similar wings—once fully feathered, they would be a silvery white, their feathers tipped with gold.
Airborne, both would be spectacular.
Axis knew that Zeboath had examined StarDrifter and Salome on several occasions, fascinated by their wings. StarDrifter and Salome were apparently philosophical about Zeboath’s interest, and Axis thought it indicative of Zeboath’s tact that he’d managed more than one examination.
Publicly, Salome was less enthusiastic about her wings and the possibility of flight, but Axis thought she was growing not only more curious about her wings, but also hid a growing eagerness to try them out. Sometimes, when she thought no one was watching her, Axis would catch her looking skyward, wondering…
Salome was good for his father, he decided. StarDrifter had loved Axis’ own mother, Rivkah, deeply, but she had been an Acharite, a human, and she’d not been able to hold his interest as she aged. She’d also been too nice, too good, much as Zenith—Axis’ own daughter—had been. StarDrifter had an arrogant bad streak in him that could light up a moonless night as if it were day, and Salome, just as arrogant, just as bad, was his perfect match. They were rarely publicly affectionate toward each other, but Axis sensed a deep bonding between them that had never been present between StarDrifter and his mother, and certainly not between StarDrifter and Zenith.
Watching his father ride, Axis could see him stretching and flexing each wing, one at a time, and knew it would not be long before StarDrifter would be able to take to the thermals.
Axis grinned. He’d hardly seen his father for more than a chance to exchange a few hasty words since leaving Sakkuth, and, while he still had a thousand things he needed to do today, he could spare a half hour for a chat.
He rode up behind them quietly, his approach masked by the sound of a thousand horsemen nearby. StarDrifter and Maximilian were riding along easily, both men relaxed, Maximilian actually smiling a little, their horses at a loose-limbed trot.
It gave Axis heart to think that Maximilian could smile. It changed his face completely, all the darkness sloughing off to reveal charm and charisma.
Axis suddenly spurred his horse forward, pushing in between the mounts of both men and making their horses shy a little in surprise.
“Axis!” StarDrifter exclaimed, reining in his horse and pulling it close enough to that of his son’s to give Axis a welcoming slap on the shoulder.
Maximilian smiled as well, looking genuinely pleased to see Axis.
“Such guilty expressions!” Axis said, still grinning. “What were you two planning? Tell me, that I might report it to Isaiah.”
“We were talking about my wings,” said StarDrifter. “About how splendid they are.” He stretched both of them in a luxurious manner, the sun catching the glints of gold at the point of each emerging feather.
“And I was just remarking to your father,” said Maximilian, “that he shall be fully splendid by the time he stands before his people as Talon.”
“Talon?” Axis said.
“You didn’t know?” said Maximilian. “BroadWing pressed StarDrifter to accept the throne of Talon. StarDrifter was reluctant, but finally accepted.”
“Axis,” StarDrifter said, looking a little unsure. “I know that you—”
But Axis was smiling, and he kneed his horse close enough to that of his father’s that he could briefly embrace him. “This is the happiest news, StarDrifter! You have been a long time coming to the Talon’s throne, but I think it was always, always yours.”
“You don’t want it?” StarDrifter said.
“Me?” Axis said. “No! It was never mine.” He sobered a little. “This is the happiest news, StarDrifter. Until this moment I had doubted the Icarii could rise again. Now I know they can.”
Again he kneed his horse close to StarDrifter’s, and, controlling his horse only with his knees and balance, reached out and grasped his father’s left hand in both of his.
“StarDrifter SunSoar,” Axis said, “as my father you have my heart and my love, but as my liege lord you have not only my heart and my love, but my hands and my loyalty and whatever power may be mine to command. I am yours, Talon, heart and soul and mind. Command me as you will.”
Then he kissed his father’s hand, and laid it very briefly on the top of his head.
“Axis…” StarDrifter had tears in his eyes, and he had to blink them back before he could continue. Axis had done so much in his
life that was noteworthy, but StarDrifter wondered if he had ever said or done anything that had affected him as deeply as this heartfelt pledge of love and loyalty.
Their hands clasped again, just for a moment, but with a fierce intensity.
“Soon you must begin to garner your nation to you,” said Axis. “The Icarii are scattered. You must find them a home.”
“Ah, and I thought you were here to cheer me,” StarDrifter said. “But as soon as you have flattered me with attention, you hand me the task impossible. Find the Icarii a homeland, indeed.”
“The world is being torn apart,” said Maximilian. “I have no doubt that you can find five or six thousand Icarii a home somewhere among the tatters.”
“It must be difficult for you,” said Axis, “seeing how every day this force grinds its way toward your homelands.”
Maximilian shot him an unfathomable look as his only answer.
“We were curious, Axis,” StarDrifter said, “to know what your relationship with Isaiah is. Tell us of him, and what you do riding with…this.” He, in his turn, waved about. “Frankly, I would not have thought you so willing to ride with such an invasion.”
Axis ignored the last comment. “Isaiah was the one to bring me back from the Otherworld,” he said. “He has reserves of power that he rarely, almost never, shows to any other. That intrigues me. Fascinates me.”
“What do you mean?” StarDrifter said.
“Isaiah is using his face as tyrant as a disguise,” Axis said. “He hides tremendous power beneath it. Why need so powerful a disguise? What is he hiding? I would be fearful of it, save that I like Isaiah. Immensely. And I respect him as I respect few people.”
Axis gave a short laugh. “We have our disagreements, and snipe at each other, but I would trust him with my life, and he would trust me likewise, I think.”
“Sometimes trust can be entirely misplaced,” Maximilian said.
On that same day, Salome—bored witless by the never-ending travel, and irritated with StarDrifter for leaving her to go and bond with Maximilian—made the effort to escape the wagon in which she traveled with Ravenna and Venetia to find Ishbel.