Inardle kept her eyes closed and her body still, pretending sleep when Axis returned. She felt him bend down, kiss her forehead softly, then heard him settle in a chair close by the bed.
She listened to his breathing. It did not slow or deepen: he was staying awake, watching over her.
Inardle didn't know what to do. She felt trapped by a guilt that was growing deeper with every day, and that guilt had only been exacerbated by Eleanon's visit.
So much of what she had told Axis had been lies. The Lealfast were much more skilled fighters than she (and Eleanon) had led Axis to believe. They hadn't merely practiced on snow rabbits, but had trained extensively over the centuries with the Vilanders who lived close to the frozen wastes.
That was a lie Axis was sure to discover if ever he met any of the Vilander bowmen.
The Lealfast commanded much more power than what Inardle had told Axis. Their command of the Star Dance was much stronger, plus they had developed the learning and power the Magi had taught them so many millennia ago.
Many of the senior Lealfast were skilled in the power of the One. How in all the gods' names could she ever confess that to Axis now?
Yet the worst sin, and that which gave Inardle the most anxiety, was how coldly she had maneuvered herself into Axis' bed.
She could so easily have escaped Risdon and Armat.
But she hadn't. She allowed Armat to cripple her, and then Risdon to rape her, in order to make Axis feel responsible for her and to tie him the more closely to her.
Yes, Inardle had suffered in the doing, but she had chosen that suffering--and all in order to entrap Axis.
What would he do when he found out? Inardle couldn't bear the thought.
She would be the enemy. Not his lover. His enemy.
That made her feel cold inside, and desperate.
But what else was she now, save the enemy? If Eleanon and Bingaleal had committed themselves and the Lealfast Nation to the One, then she could be nothing else.
Inardle had the terrible feeling that Eleanon and Bingaleal had chosen the wrong way. Axis had told her that Maximilian was regaining the lost knowledge of the Twisted Tower. What if Maximilian Persimius could be what the Lealfast needed?
What if the One was nothing but danger?
Inardle didn't know what to do. She was not as committed to the way of the One in any case, for the One despised women for their ability to breed and thus to subdivide the One. No woman ever became a full Magi. She might command some of the Magi power, but no woman was ever initiated into the full mysteries.
But was there any purpose now to yearn for what might have been had she not committed herself to the path of deception? She could not even confess to Axis, for he would not believe a word she said to him once he discovered that everything she had told him was founded on lies.
She could not bear the thought that he would hate her.
Inardle began to cry, silently, and her weeping only grew stronger when Axis, concerned, came to her side and wrapped her in his arms.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On the Road to Serpent's Nest
They stood under the stars, a pace apart, wrapped in cloaks. They did not look at each other, but instead both cast their eyes eastwards.
Toward Elcho Falling.
"There is trouble tonight about Inardle," Ishbel said.
"I think today StarDrifter and BroadWing overreached themselves," Maximilian said.
"She is a strange woman."
"No stranger than you, when first we met."
"She is very beautiful," Ishbel said. "Very ethereal. Very unknowable. I am not surprised Axis has taken her so close."
"He didn't win her any friends with the announcement that he was making her his lieutenant."
"Axis is isolating her. Inardle will never be a full part of the Lealfast again, nor of any other people. She has only one tribe now, and that tribe is Axis SunSoar."
"Then he is going to a great deal of trouble over her," Maximilian said. "She does not seem to be much like Azhure. Axis has talked to me of Azhure occasionally."
"I think the fact that she isn't anything like Azhure is the attraction, Maxel." Ishbel paused a little. "I will be more friendly to her. Perhaps ride with her during the day."
"I think Axis would like that, Ishbel. Thank you. I think you may find that you and Inardle are very much alike in some ways. You've each had a difficult journey at times."
"I was appalled to hear how Lister turned his back on her."
"Yes, I was, too."
They remained unspeaking for a little while, still not looking at each other, avoiding the two topics they needed to talk about: their marriage and Elcho Falling.
"How long," said Ishbel eventually, "before we arrive at the mountain?"
Maximilian turned his head to look at her directly. "Four or five days. We're moving faster than I'd hoped."
"Are you scared?"
Again he laughed softly. "Yes, but excited, too. You?"
"You have no idea, Maxel. It shall be so strange to see Aziel again, as all my old friends from the Coil.
Maxel...do they know we're coming?"
"Yes. I sent two Icarii east a week or more ago."
Ishbel's mouth curved in a small smile. "Aziel will have been surprised to meet them, and yet somehow not. I think he knew, Maxel, that change was upon him. Would the Icarii have told him about Lister?"
"Yes."
Ishbel sighed. "Then he will be upset. What will he do, now that the Coil has no reason for its existence?"
"Move forward, as you have done. You are doing well in the Twisted Tower."
"Yes. I manage a different level each night now. Maxel, why did you want me to learn?"
"Because it doesn't hurt to have someone else know--"
"Maxel, please, why did you want me to learn?"
He turned to face her. "Because I wanted to share it with you, not only the Twisted Tower, but everything Elcho Falling is and can be."
Ishbel looked at him, feeling certain that there was a deeper reason, but she did not push him. Instead she smiled, and removed one hand from under her cloak.
In it she held a small bunch of wildflowers. "My payment, my lord, for traversing your territory."
He reached out his hand, enclosing hers within it, and pulled her closer. He leaned forward, and they kissed, very gently.
Then Ishbel pulled back, smiling a little, and walked away into the night.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
On the Road to Serpent's Nest
Inardle, you will need to use a sling."
She sat on the edge of the bed, using her right arm to clutch her left to her chest, and ignoring Yysell, who was trying to offer her an early morning cup of tea. Axis had been arguing with her for close to an hour, firstly about the fact that she wanted to ride a horse today and not rest in a wagon, and secondly about her refusal to wear the sling that Garth had left the previous night.
"You will do more damage to your shoulder and wing tendons if you let that damn arm dangle!"
She flashed Axis a sharp look at that. "I will not allow it to `dangle.'"
"You don't have the strength to do anything else," Axis snapped. He sat in a chair and pulled on his boots, angry and concerned. Inardle had hardly slept last night. She'd woken crying after Axis had returned to the tent, and not gone back to sleep despite the analgesic Axis had virtually forced her to swallow. Her wing and upper left arm and shoulder were still swollen and thick with contusions, and her left forearm was bruised and scabbed where the string of the bow had snapped and scraped the skin and flesh. She looked exhausted, and her reluctance to stand meant she'd barely be able to sit a horse.
"At least drink the tea Yysell has made," Axis said. "He rose early to make that for you."
"Thank you," Inardle said to Yysell, and managed a smile for him as she finally took the mug. She winced as her left arm drooped, unsupported, and Axis managed to bite his tongue only just in time.
Stars,
he was going to spend all day worrying about her.
"Inardle," he began, then stopped as StarDrifter drew back the doorflap and entered the tent.
Everyone inside--Axis, Inardle, and Yysell--stared.
Then Axis caught Yysell's eye, and tipped his head toward the door.
Yysell took the hint and left, edging his way about StarDrifter.
StarDrifter glanced at Axis, then picked up a stool that was sitting against the tent wall, walked over to Inardle, and sat down just before her.
Axis tensed, standing up from his chair, watchful.
"Inardle," StarDrifter said, looking directly at her. She met his eyes, but Axis could see that she was very, very wary.
"Axis talked to me last night," StarDrifter said, and now Inardle flashed a look of sheer anger at Axis.
"He said to me that on that archery field yesterday," StarDrifter continued, "there was only one person who demonstrated any courage and leadership, and that was you. Inardle, I am an arrogant man, a powerful Enchanter, an Icarii prince, and I am Talon over the Icarii nation--and what Axis said did not sit well with me. He was, however, right, and it was only my pride and arrogance which refused to allow me to accept that."
StarDrifter took a deep breath, then slid off the stool to kneel on one knee before Inardle. He bowed his head, then swept his wings out behind him in the traditional Icarii gesture of deference and respect.
Axis' mouth dropped open. A Talon, and particularly one as proud as StarDrifter, never bowed before anyone!
"Inardle," StarDrifter said, now raising his face to look directly at her, "what BroadWing and I did to you yesterday cannot be condoned. We were angry at Axis, yet it was you who felt the sting of our ill temper.
That was inexcusable, and I have no right to ask you for forgiveness. Nothing I can say can ever take away the horror of what we did, and what you may have to suffer for it. Inardle Lealfast, you are an extraordinary woman, and one of great courage." He gave a little smile. "There are very few people who can bring an Icarii Talon to his knees before them--and this was not something Axis asked me to do."
He had to tell her that, Axis thought with an inward smile. He had to let her know that this was his idea.
"Inardle," StarDrifter continued, "you have an Icarii Talon at your feet, and while I cannot undo the damage I have done to you, I can say that the stars will fall from the sky and crumble into dust before I
allow any harm to come to you again. I am your servant, Inardle Lealfast."
And with that he rose, sent a single glance toward his son, and left the tent.
Axis and Inardle looked at each other.
"I think I might wear the sling after all," said Inardle, and Axis laughed, walked over, and kissed her forehead.
"There are many things that I love about you, Inardle," he said, "but your magnificent diffidence rates among the highest."
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Salamaan Pass
Hereward and Isaiah had been in the Salamaan Pass a week. They were tired, hungry, dirty, and almost out of water.
The Skraelings had remained in Isembaard, and they'd needed to rely exclusively on what they carried with them. There were no leftovers from the creatures' hunting.
Neither had spoken to the other for at least three days. This was due in part to their fatigue, but also due to their mutual despondency. What they had seen at Hairekeep continued to eat away at their souls. Even the horse seemed to wallow in dejection, and walked along with his head drooping.
It was midafternoon, and both were half dozing atop the ambling horse. Hereward jerked awake as she almost toppled off the horse, then shaded her eyes and looked ahead.
"Isaiah?" Hereward said.
He paid no attention.
"Isaiah?" she said again, a little more loudly, and gave him a prod in the ribs.
He jumped. "What?"
"Look ahead, Isaiah. Look ahead."
Isaiah pulled the horse to a halt and shaded his eyes as Hereward had done.
His own mouth sagged.
Lamiah simply could not believe what he was seeing. One of his scouts had ridden up, gasping out the news that the Tyrant was riding a white stallion toward them from out of Isembaard, a woman with him.
None of that made any sense to Lamiah. Isaiah was far behind him, somewhere in the northern Outlands.
So Lamiah had ridden forward, a small unit to escort him, and then had pulled up his horse in astonishment.
There sat Isaiah atop a somewhat bedraggled but otherwise handsome white stallion, a dark-haired woman sitting behind him and clinging to his shoulders
Both were dirty--Lamiah had not ever seen Isaiah in a state anything close to this--and looked drained and exhausted.
Very slowly Lamiah pushed his horse forward, waving at his escort to stay where they were.
"Isaiah?" he said, bringing his horse to a halt a few paces away from Isaiah's stallion.
"The very same," Isaiah said. "And why is it I find General Lamiah, having deserted his command, leading a column of soldiers back into Isembaard?"
"Someone has to save our people," Lamiah said.
"There is no one left to save," Isaiah said. "Hereward and myself and this horse are all that is left, Lamiah, and if you continue in the direction you are currently headed, then you will lead your men into a death so terrible that the thought of what I might do to you for your treachery will seem as naught."
Lamiah stared at him, then laughed in genuine amusement. "You look as though you need some food, Isaiah, and a drink if your hoarseness of voice is anything to go by. We will rest here for the night, and I
will permit you to tell me your story."
Lamiah leaned back in his chair and stared at Isaiah. The story he'd just heard was...extraordinary.
And so infuriating that Lamiah did not think he could maintain his composure for much longer.
"Lamiah," Isaiah said, looking better now that he'd had an opportunity to wash off some of his grime and had eaten a meal, "what I need you to do is--"
"How dare you tell me what you need me to do!" Lamiah said. "You never once thought to mention to anyone that Isembaard was facing certain destruction? We could have evacuated the entire--"
"That is nonsense, Lamiah, and well you know it," Isaiah said. "If I had come out with any of this while we were still in Isembaard then we both know you and the other generals would have murdered me within twelve hours. I saved what I could, and I am now pleading with you to save what is left. You cannot continue into Isembaard!"
Lamiah did not respond. He looked past Isaiah to where the woman Hereward sat. She'd been quiet all afternoon and evening as first they'd shared a meal and then Isaiah had told his story. She was all that was left?
"Where are Kezial and Armat?" Isaiah asked.
"Waging war on Maximilian," Lamiah responded automatically, trying to think through what he should do.
Isaiah muttered a curse, and Lamiah looked at him at that.
"Did you honestly think we would support Maximilian?" Lamiah said.
"He's all that can save you now."
Lamiah grunted.
"Lamiah," said Isaiah, "you need to believe me. Maximilian is the only one who can--"
"Save us against what you have described? Why should I believe that? Is the One afraid of Maximilian?"
Lamiah said.
"Yes."
Lamiah raised his eyes and looked at Isaiah. "What in the name of all gods are we going to do, Isaiah?"
Part Five
CHAPTER ONE
Serpent's Nest
Aziel drew the crimson hood of his robe over his head so that it shadowed his face, then picked up the reins and urged his horse forward.
The gelding managed to break into a slow amble, but Aziel didn't have the heart to push it to any greater exertion.
Besides, it would allow him to savor his remaining few minutes at Serpent's Nest.
The horse strolled through the open gates and down the road
that sloped down to the plain. It was early morning, only an hour or so after dawn, and the low light illuminated the surrounding countryside in a soft, rosy glow.
It caught at the spears and shields and stirrup irons of the army spread out on the plains below Serpent's Nest. The army was arrayed in columns and units, each clearly defined and well ordered, everyone horsed and weaponed. High above circled units of the Icarii Strike Force.
It was, Aziel thought as the horse made its unhurried way down the road, a salutary lesson in the unpredictability of life and the foolishness of mortals who thought to influence it. It was almost two years now since he had farewelled Ishbel for her marriage to Maximilian, King of Escator. Now, here she was again, probably one of the as yet tiny figures sitting their horses in a group just ahead of the first units of the army. There was a winged man standing slightly to one side of those three--his wings glinting gold now and again as he moved in the sunlight--and Aziel supposed he commanded the Icarii in the sky.
It was ironic, he thought. He'd sent Ishbel to marry this man, Maximilian, in the hope that it would prevent disaster befalling the Coil and Serpent's Nest. He'd promised her she would return, and that all would be well.
Ishbel had indeed returned, but Aziel doubted very much that all would be well. The Coil was disbanded, fallen into irrelevancy as their Serpent god revealed his true self and abandoned them, and Serpent's Nest was now to fall to Maximilian, no longer of Escator, but of Elcho Falling.
Ishbel had returned, but she'd brought the destruction of Aziel's life with her.
But, oh, he could not wait to see her face again. Aziel had sent a repressed, uncertain woman away to Maximilian, and he wondered now what he would find at her return.
The horse had by now ambled its way to the foot of the mountain road and had picked up its pace slightly as it saw the horsemen waiting a few minutes away.
Fool horse, thought Aziel. Why rush away from the only home you have ever known?
He swiveled about in the saddle at that, looking one last time on the place he'd called home for over thirty-five years. Tears filmed his eyes, and he blinked them away before he turned back and prepared to face the Lord of Elcho Falling.