Читать книгу Starman: Book Three of the Axis Trilogy - Sara Douglass - Страница 13

Axis rubbed his tired eyes and consciously worked to keep the deep uneasiness from showing on his face. He remembered Priam sitting in this very Privy Chamber, ragged lines of worry etching his face, as he shared his bad news with his commanders.

In the ten days since his marriage, Axis had finally begun sending troops northwards to Jervois Landing. He supposed that Gorgrael would again attempt to break through into southern Tencendor with the main part of his force through Jervois Landing as he had last winter. The troops had embarked on river transports, normally the quickest and most efficient system of moving large numbers of troops and supplies. Normally.

“They have no way of breaking through?” Axis asked.

Belial gazed steadily at his friend. “The Nordra is completely frozen beyond the valley in the Western Ranges, Axis. No ship, no transport, can sail into Aldeni or Skarabost. The north is isolated.”

“As are those troops currently in Jervois Landing, Axis,” Magariz added.

Axis looked about the room, trying to gather his thoughts. The great Privy Chamber had not altered much since the days Axis had attended Priam’s council here as BattleAxe of the Seneschal. But if the great Privy Chamber had not altered much in structure or hangings, it certainly had in the people grouped about the great circular table. Apart from Axis, Prince Ysgryff was the only one present who would have attended Priam’s council. Duke Roland was still in Sigholt, slowly dying; the unlucky Earl Jorge had moved north to Jervois Landing with the first transports; and Baron Fulke was currently seeing to the last of the grape harvest in Romsdale.

Now Icarii Crest-Leaders shared the conference table with a Ravensbund Chieftain and human princes. There were others, stranger, grouped about or under the table. StarDrifter, not part of the conference, but present nevertheless. Azhure, looking slightly better but still weary, sat further around the table. At her feet, and around the chamber, lay the fifteen great Alaunt hounds.

Come on, man, think, Axis berated himself. They wait on you. They believe in you.

But the truth was that Axis had not thought very much at all about what he would do once he had defeated Borneheld and proclaimed Tencendor. He had never really thought about how he was going to confront Gorgrael. Now it looked as though Gorgrael was going to force the issue, as though the final battle would be fought on Gorgrael’s terms.

Axis roused himself, aware that the others were staring. “FarSight, is it possible to send your farflight scouts north to spy the danger?”

FarSight CutSpur, the senior Crest-Leader in the Icarii Strike Force, shook his dark head emphatically. “No, StarMan. No. The weather worsens hourly. Great winds of sleet and frost bear down from the north. If the farflight scouts actually survived the winds, then they would see nothing anyway.”

Azhure spoke, her voice soft. “How many men do you have in Jervois Landing, Axis?”

“Over eight thousand. Five that Borneheld had left there, three from our own force. And one lonely wing of the Strike Force; they must be grounded if the weather at Jervois Landing is as bad as I fear.”

Magariz and Belial exchanged glances.

“If Gorgrael attacks,” Magariz said, “then they are lost. Eight thousand could not possibly hold out against the forces he could throw against them.”

“Damn it, I know that!” Axis shouted. “But what can I do? I have no way of moving any more forces north quickly – even the Andeis Sea has succumbed to storms so violent that five ships have been lost this past week alone.” He paused and calmed himself. “Gorgrael will strike,” he resumed, “and he will strike soon. All we can do is prepare as best we can.”

“We move north?” Belial said.

Axis looked at him steadily, then gazed about the room, fixing the eyes of each of his commanders in turn. “We begin to prepare today.”

He hesitated, then decided to voice his concern. “Truth to tell, my friends, I am unsure what to do. Where will Gorgrael strike? Jervois Landing, surely, but we will never be able to get there in time. Then where? If all of Aldeni is frozen he could mass his troops anywhere. I am loath to commit my force to any action or to any route north until I have a better idea what Gorgrael is going to do.”

It was Ichtar all over again, Axis thought. If Gorgrael broke through Jervois Landing he would have the entire province of Aldeni to roam in. And he would be only some fifty leagues from Carlon itself.

“Well, enough of my doubts.” Axis spoke briskly, and more formally. “Princes Belial, Magariz and Ysgryff and,” he smiled slightly at his wife, “my Lady Azhure, Guardian of the East. Within three days I want from all of you a list of the resources that your provinces will be able to provide to support Tencendor’s fight against Gorgrael. I want to know everything you’ve got, from food to wagons to fighting men to weapons to any one or any thing that can contribute to the war effort.”

Magariz’s mouth twitched, but his eyes were grave. “I do not need three days to compose a list, StarMan. My northern province can provide only one thing, but that in abundance – the enemy.”

There was silence, then Axis spoke again.

“Sooner or later we will to have to ride into that icy hell above the Western Ranges,” he said. “And I fear that there will be no glorious battle at the end of this march.”

Especially if I cannot find the skills and the courage to wield enough of the Star Dance to use effective Songs of War, he thought, black despair threatening to overwhelm him.

“Eleven days ago, amid shouts of rejoicing, I proclaimed Tencendor. Ten days ago I married the woman I love more than life itself. But this has been a false summer, I think. Have we all celebrated too fast? Has darkness merely bided its time, waiting to catch us off guard?”

All that afternoon Azhure attended to her duties as Guardian of the East. Hers was a special responsibility, that of making sure that the integration of three races, three cultures, and three religions went smoothly and with the least rancour possible. It was a challenge that Azhure relished; she had spent time among all three races – Acharites (as the humans were still known), Avar and Icarii. Although the Avar still had not moved from their forest homelands, and probably would not until Faraday had planted the forest below the Fortress Ranges, Azhure had more than enough to do with the influx of Icarii into the southern lands of Tencendor. She was impatient with the paperwork that the scribes continually thrust her way; Azhure liked to hear a problem from all sides before making a decision that was best for the parties involved. She had got very used to the despairing cry of the scribes and administrators –“But it’s never been done that way before!” – to which she always replied, with as much graciousness as she could, “Well, it’s the way it’s going to be done now.”

In the early evening, Azhure wandered back to the royal apartments along the busy corridors of the palace. She hoped that Axis would soon return from his consultations with Belial and Magariz over preparations for their eventual march north. She needed to speak with him about what she had learned this afternoon and did not want to leave it for later that night as she was now so tired that she longed only for a simple meal and her bed.

Axis was still deeply worried about her health and, though they never spoke of it, both were extremely concerned over her continuing lack of control over her power. The morning after StarDrifter and Axis had tried to teach Azhure the Song for Drying Clothes, Carlon had awakened to a minor miracle.

The contents of every single laundry hamper in the city had been mysteriously emptied overnight, laundered, folded and stored.

There could be no explanation except that, somehow, Azhure had unconsciously used her power as she slept. She had no knowledge of how she had done it, and had become tearful when Axis had pressed her, and the matter of the clean clothes had been quietly dropped. But Azhure could feel Axis’ and StarDrifter’s eyes on her occasionally, wondering. Wondering what? she thought. Wondering what might have happened if it had been a less innocuous Song? What if it had been the Song of Muddlement – would Carlon then have awoken with its population wandering the streets, dazed and disorientated?

Azhure sighed with relief when she reached the royal apartments; Axis was already there, and servants had just finished laying a meal for them on a low table in the Jade Chamber.

As they ate, Azhure occasionally stole a glance at Axis, noting the lines of worry on his face. Some of them she knew were for her, but most were for the desperate situation faced by the troops currently at Jervois Landing. Axis worried for each soldier under his command; every time a man died Axis fretted. Could he have prevented it? Was the man’s death the result of a bad decision on his part? Belial had told her of Axis’ deep guilt after the loss of three hundred men at the Ancient Barrows when Gorgrael had rained down his cruel ice spears on them, and his even worse guilt after the disastrous loss of life in the battle for Gorkentown. Since she had been with him, Azhure had seen much the same thing. Stars knows how he must be berating himself inside for not foreseeing the probable slaughter at Jervois Landing.

“Why do you smile?” Axis asked as he peeled back the purple skin of a juicy malayam fruit.

“I was thinking on the dismay of the scribes and recorders this afternoon. I do not, it seems, do things in the right order, at the right time, or use the correct bureaucratic procedure.”

To her relief Axis laughed, his whole face lightening. “Then you are doing well, beloved, if you have already annoyed the bureaucrats.”

They smiled at each other, then Azhure’s expression became serious. “Axis. There is a matter that I ought to discuss with you. Do you mind?”

“Never fear to talk with me, Azhure. We have wasted months of our lives because we did not talk truthfully to each other.”

“It is only a mundane matter, perhaps,” she said, “but it needs to be aired. Dru-Beorh came to me this afternoon with some disturbing news.” She paused. “He has seen both Moryson and Gilbert in his travels between here and Nor.”

Axis grimaced. He should have known that their names would re-emerge.

“They were both alone at the time he saw them, Moryson wandering south through the Plains of Tare, Gilbert travelling east through northern Nor. I thanked him for the information and said I would think further on it. Axis, Faraday was heading east when she left here. I cannot but think that perhaps she may encounter one of them.”

Axis returned his eyes to the remains of the malayam fruit. After a moment he gave up all pretence at eating it and wiped his fingers on a napkin.

“I would give much to have those two locked securely in the palace dungeons, Azhure. Together with Jayme, they were directly responsible for many of the injustices that the Seneschal perpetuated. And that I helped perpetuate.” Another guilt.

They both turned their minds to Jayme, and they shared their thoughts regarding his strange death. No-one had been able to explain it, and while Axis had been pleased to see that Jayme had died in a manner befitting his crimes, he was unhappy that Jayme had escaped his trial. The guard had heard or seen nothing, and both Axis and Azhure could not help but feel that some dark enchantment had been at work in Jayme’s death.

“Faraday?” Azhure prompted. “Do you think Faraday is in any danger? It is not only Gilbert and Moryson who concern me – there must be a number of Plough-Keepers wandering eastern Tencendor. They can be nothing but trouble.”

Axis sipped some wine thoughtfully. He’d not had time to deal with the problem of the Seneschal and the Way of the Plough, and undoubtedly would not for many months to come. Despite the collapse of the Seneschal and the abandoning of Artor by so many people in these days of prophecy, Axis knew that in many villages the Plough-Keepers retained considerable power.

“Faraday?” Azhure asked yet again.

He started and smiled guiltily. “Sorry. Faraday …” Stars, another guilt, and the worst of all. She was, as Belial had once told him in anger, too wondrous a woman for him to have treated the way he had. “The east is massive. I doubt they will run into each other. And Faraday can look after herself, Azhure. She is infused with the power of the Mother, and the Mother will aid her should she need it.”

“I had thought that perhaps I could send a small unit of men to protect her.”

“Would they find her? Would she welcome such company? And,” the crux of the matter, “can we spare the men?”

“No. Perhaps you are right,” Azhure said, worried nevertheless. Faraday had treated her with kindness, respect and friendship where Azhure had expected only bitterness and recrimination.

She forced her mind from Faraday for the moment. “Some Icarii are moving down from Talon Spike in small groups, Axis. Many of them are like children, so excited they know not what to see or do next.”

“I hope they are not frightening the Acharites with their excitement.”

“No. The majority still wait in Talon Spike, and RavenCrest, and I have asked that those who fly south restrain themselves. Most groups are flying to the Bracken Ranges where, so I am informed, there are ancient Icarii cities hidden under layers of dirt and boulders. Apparently, during the Wars of the Axe, when the Seneschal was succeeding in its bid to drive the Icarii from Achar, the Icarii Enchanters hid their cities in the Bracken Ranges with enchantments and, so they tell me, just a little dirt. Most of the Icarii efforts thus far have gone into dusting both enchantments and dirt from their ancient homes.”

Axis smiled briefly, his eyes whimsical. “I would like to see these cities one day, but I do not know when. Not with the threat that seeps down from the north.”

For some minutes Axis described the preparations that engulfed much of Carlon in getting some thirty-thousand men-at-arms ready for a march north. He had only succeeded in sending a fraction of his command north before the Nordra froze over. And for that, he thought grimly, I suppose I ought to be grateful. Better to have the majority here in Carlon where they will survive Gorgrael’s inevitable attack on Jervois Landing.

“I wish,” he concluded softly, taking her hand, “that you could travel north with me. And yet I am relieved that your pregnancy will force you to remain behind. At least something will be saved if disaster engulfs us in the north.”

If disaster engulfs you in the north, my love, Azhure thought, I will have no reason left to live.

Azhure wished she could fight by Axis’ side, but she knew that her physical state, while not desperate, was still sufficiently weak to cause concern. Each advancing day her unborn twins sapped more of her energy; Azhure had longed for Caelum to be born so that she could hold her wondrous son in her arms, but she longed for these twins to be born just so she could be freed of their encumbrance.

Axis watched her easy acceptance of his words with disquiet. The Azhure he had known would have fought bitterly to be allowed to ride at his side, pregnant or not. It was an indication of how deeply unwell she was that Azhure so meekly accepted the fact she would have to remain behind.

But Azhure had no intention of staying behind permanently. “Once they are born I will come,” she said, squeezing his hand. “The birth is only three months away at the most. Then I will be free to join you.”

If there is anything left to join, Axis thought to himself. If you still have a husband to join.