Читать книгу Enchanter: Book Two of the Axis Trilogy - Sara Douglass - Страница 23

As they closed the distance between the last of the alps and the Avar groves, Axis drew closer to Azhure. “Azhure, what do you think of the Avar?” he asked.

Azhure thought for a moment. “They are a reserved people, Axis, and they do not accept strangers easily. They are very peaceable and reject those who embrace violence.”

Axis nodded. If the Avar had rejected Azhure because of her involvement in her violent father’s death, then how would they feel about a former BattleAxe of the AxeWielders?

“They are reserved,” Azhure repeated. “Shy. They have learned over centuries of persecution to fear the Plains Dwellers, as they call …” She almost said “us,” “the Acharites. They protest to loathe violence, but …” Her voice trailed off.

“But they have an aura of violence about them?”

Azhure glanced at Axis, startled. “Yes. I had not thought of it that way before. But … yes. They put their children through a frightening test to see if they have the ability to become Banes – a test that kills many of them. And sometimes the Banes themselves can threaten violence. When I was a girl in Smyrton and stumbled upon Rivkah and a Bane taking two children past the village, the Bane was so angry that I think Rivkah only just managed to prevent him from killing me. Yes,” she paused, “they protest violence, but they exude it.”

“When I walked into the Sacred Grove in my dream,” Axis said, “the feeling of hatred and inherent violence was overwhelming – of course,” he laughed humourlessly, “I was BattleAxe, then.”

“Do you still fear the reaction of the Avar, Axis? You do not walk into their groves as BattleAxe but as the StarMan.”

“Perhaps, but they still have reason enough to distrust me. They will not be easy to win over.”

“They are ashamed that it was their blood which birthed Gorgrael but not you,” Azhure said softly so Raum, walking just ahead, would not hear. “The Icarii and the Acharites have accepted and will accept you because you have been born of their blood. But to the Avar you will not only be foreign, but also frightening.” She paused. “Axis, don’t be too confident. The Avar will not be as ready to follow you as the Icarii were.”

Axis was taken aback once again by her perceptivity, but did not say anything. Like Ogden and Veremund, more and more he found himself wondering if Azhure was the peasant woman she first appeared to be. An odd memory resurfaced. Strangely, the few times Azhure had discussed Hagen, she had never referred to him as her father.

“Azhure,” he said, hesitant.

“Yes?” Azhure replied, her face open and uncomplicated.

“Was Hagen your father? Your real father?”

“What a thing to ask! Of course,” she said, but her voice sounded forced. “Who else?”

Axis began to say something, but Azhure broke in. “Look, Axis! We’re almost there. How I’m looking forward to seeing Fleat and Shra again!”

The sacred groves and surrounding forest were a confusion of Icarii and Avar as the small party finally arrived in the early afternoon of Beltide. The bulk of the Icarii had arrived an hour earlier and were now laughing and exchanging greetings with the Avar. As they pushed through the crowds, StarDrifter hailed them. “Axis! Rivkah! Azhure!”

Smiling hugely, StarDrifter embraced Axis and then gave Rivkah a warm kiss on the cheek. “I am glad to see that you arrived well and in time for Beltide,” he said, giving Azhure a light and blameless kiss on the cheek as well. “Did you travel without incident?”

Raum nodded and grasped StarDrifter’s arm. “You look cheerful, StarDrifter. Should I assume that … ?” He let the question hang in the air between them.

Both Icarii Enchanters and Avar Banes had been worried about the arrival of spring. The SkraeBold attack on Yuletide had disrupted the rites before they were completed and many feared the sun would not regain the strength it needed to break through the grip of Gorgrael’s unnatural winter. What if spring did not arrive? Was there any point in holding Beltide if there was no spring to celebrate?

“Raum,” StarDrifter said, stepping closer to the Bane so he could be heard above the din. “Gorgrael’s power is strong and winter has a grasp on the northern regions, but Earth Tree sings, and even though we could not finish the Yuletide rites, the sun has strengthened enough to allow the earth to reawaken. Spring has begun. It will be weak and many areas will experience a cold summer, especially Ichtar, but the Banes tell me that the sun will shine strongly over the Avarinheim. Your people will be well.”

“And Achar?” Axis broke in. His plans would have to be drastically altered if Achar remained in the grip of ice. “Will winter break in Achar?”

“Yes, Axis,” StarDrifter replied. “It will be a cool summer and the crops may not flourish as well as hoped, but it will be a summer. Gorgrael’s power has not spread as far south as we had feared.”

Axis relaxed visibly. “Good.”

StarDrifter looked at his son carefully. Apart from informing the Assembly of his intention to seek further training with the Charonites, Axis had not talked to anyone about his plans after Beltide. All knew that he meant to unite the Icarii and Acharite nations, but to do that he would have to face Borneheld. When? How?

“Strike-Leader!” FarSight CutSpur’s voice cut across Star-Drifter’s thoughts. “You have arrived. Good.”

Axis turned and conferred with the Crest-Leader. He did not want the Strike Force to leave the Beltide rites as exposed as they had at Yuletide, and he confirmed with FarSight the plans they had made in Talon Spike for both air and ground patrols of the northern Avarinheim.

As Axis and FarSight talked, Azhure frowned and peered through the throngs of Avar and Icarii.

“There,” Raum pointed. “The GhostTree Clan usually pitches its tents under that stand of trees. Remember?”

“Do you think I should … ?” she started, nervous.

Raum smiled reassuringly. “They will be pleased to see you, Azhure. Especially Fleat and Shra. Go on, now.”

Azhure took a deep breath and headed in the direction Raum had pointed. Fleat and Shra might welcome her, but what about Grindle? And Barsarbe, if she was with them?

Rivkah hurried after her. The GhostTree Clan had been Rivkah’s surrogate family for years now, and she always looked forward to seeing them. Besides, Azhure looked as though she might need some support.

As Azhure and Rivkah disappeared into the crowd, Raum touched Axis’ arm. “Axis.”

Axis glanced at Raum and brought his conversation with FarSight to a close. “You have done well, Crest-Leader. Speak with me in the hour before dusk, well before the Beltide rites begin.”

FarSight nodded, saluted, then left.

Axis turned. “Bane Raum?”

“Axis, it is time that I introduced you to the Avar Banes, the Clan Leaders, and the Earth Tree. Are you ready?”

Axis nodded, briefly touching the blood-red sun on his fawn tunic for reassurance.

As Axis approached the great circle of stone that surrounded and protected the Earth Tree with his father and Raum, he grew more and more tense. Of all the races, Axis knew the Avar would be the most difficult to win to his cause. A thousand years previously the Axe-Wielders, under the direction of their BattleAxe and the Seneschal, had slaughtered hundreds of thousands of trees, decimating the great forests of Tencendor.

And Azhure was probably right in surmising that the Avar would deeply resent the fact that the StarMan had been born of the Icarii and the Acharite races, not of the Avar. Their blood ran in Gorgrael, the Destroyer, but not in Axis, their saviour.

Axis dearly needed Faraday to help win the Avar to his cause. He would not be able to do it on his own.

The Avar Banes and Clan Leaders waited for Axis inside the stone circle. Axis felt their eyes on him as he walked towards the centre of the Earth Tree Grove. His eyes drifted in awe towards the Earth Tree as she soared above the encircling protective stone. Her Song hung in the air, not loud enough to stifle or inhibit conversation, but sufficiently to drift through the thoughts of everyone within the northern Avarinheim, and to keep back Gorgrael and his Skraelings.

While the Earth Tree was far more sacred to the Avar than to the Icarii, both races revered it deeply. It was the living symbol of the harmony that existed between the earth and nature; if that harmony was disrupted, the Earth Tree sickened. But the Earth Tree could also act. On the night of Yuletide, StarDrifter and Faraday, Tree Friend, had woken the Earth Tree from the slumber in which she had spent several millennia. Earth Tree had immediately realised that her grove was under attack from the creatures of Gorgrael and had responded with her Song. The Skraelings had died as one mass, breaking apart under the force of her anger. Now, awake and aware, Earth Tree continued to sing, protecting the entire northern Avarinheim from the incursions of Gorgrael and his creatures.

Now she waited for the StarMan, as did the Banes and the Clan Leaders of her people.

Each branch of the Earth Tree was covered with densely packed waxy olive-green leaves, and the ends of her branches drooped with fat trumpet-shaped flowers, some gold, some emerald, some sapphire and some ruby in hue. The Earth Tree, thought Axis, is as colourful as a rainbow. And as mysterious. StarDrifter had told Axis that not even the Avar knew the full extent of the Earth Tree’s power or of her purpose. They simply revered her and protected her. All the most sacred rites of both Icarii and Avar were conducted under her spreading branches.

“Who built the circle of stone?” Axis whispered to his father as they drew closer. It was massive, each stone ten paces in height and three in width, with similar sized stones laid across their tops to form a series of archways.

“No-one knows,” said StarDrifter. “Some say the Star Gods built the circle during a night ringed with fire, some say that the circle was constructed by a long-forgotten race of giants. Now, go ahead with Raum. I will wait for you here.”

As they stepped through an archway Axis was struck by the feeling of sanctity within the circle – that this was a holy place no-one could doubt. A group of Banes waited by the Tree, and Axis felt both their nervousness and hostility.

The Sentinels, Ogden and Veremund, waited to one side of the Avar. Somehow, no-one ever rejected the Sentinels.

Raum motioned Axis to a halt and stepped forward to greet the gathered Avar.

A small woman, of dark and delicate form with a garland of flowers and leaves about her forehead and wearing a long loose robe of light rose wool, stepped forward and kissed Raum on both cheeks.

“Bane Raum,” she said. “It has been so long. We have missed you greatly. Be well and welcomed back among us. And do not leave us again so quickly.”

“Bane Barsarbe,” Raum replied, “I am well and am heartened to find you well yourself.” He smiled, stepped back and gestured to Axis.

“You know whom I bring,” he said clearly. “Axis SunSoar. StarMan and son of StarDrifter SunSoar and Princess Rivkah of Achar. Welcome him.”

Barsarbe hesitated, then stepped forward and kissed Axis on both cheeks. “Be well and welcomed among us, Axis SunSoar, StarMan,” she said. “We are pleased that you have torn yourself from the lies that bound you and have found both your parents and your heritage.”

“Thank you, Bane Barsarbe,” Axis replied. “I hope that I will be able to fulfil both your people’s and the Prophecy’s expectations of me.”

There was an awkward silence until one of the Clan Leaders stepped forward. He was a tall man, as dark and swarthy as Raum, but much more heavily muscled. “Brode, of the SilentWalk Clan,” he said, his stare hostile. “We understand your wish is that the people of the Horn, Wing and Plough unite to drive Gorgrael from these lands?”

“It is the only way,” Axis said. “It is the way the Prophecy describes. It is my task to build the bridge of understanding that will bind the three races as one.”

Again, silence from the Avar. Above them the Earth Tree sang her Song, strong and joyous, unperturbed by the tense meeting underneath her branches.

“It is strange,” another Avar finally said, a Bane by the look of her, “that the Prophecy should ask us to follow one who once wielded the axe.”

Axis kept his voice even. “But I stand before you now as the StarMan, not as the BattleAxe.”

“A warrior.” This from a Bane almost as forbidding as Brode.

“Yes,” Axis said. “Can you think of one better trained to face Gorgrael? The StarMan needs to be a warrior.”

“Violence,” said Barsarbe. “All warriors breed violence.”

Axis remembered that Barsarbe had been particularly cool towards Azhure, even after her efforts had saved countless Avar at Yuletide. “Gorgrael will not come at you with words,” Axis snapped, his tone harsh. “Already he has murdered your people. Would you spend the rest of your lives fleeing, or hiding under the pretty leaves of the Earth Tree?”

Barsarbe’s eyes flashed furiously and she opened her mouth to speak, but Axis had not finished. “I promised the Icarii I would lead them back into Tencendor. I promise you the same. Do you want to replant your trees across the barren plains of Skarabost? Would you like to walk in shade all the way to the Mother? Or would you prefer to seek comfort in the legends and memories of the past, and condemn future generations of the Avar to skulking at night in order to reach the Mother? Do you want to regain your heritage, or have you lost your heart for such an adventure?”

Axis had not meant to be so forthright or so challenging, but he found the Avar’s studied aversion to violence intensely irritating. How did they think they were going to rid themselves of the threat of Gorgrael? Throw flowers? Shout “Peace!”?

“We wait for Tree Friend,” Raum said gently. “We have always believed that Tree Friend will lead us back into our homelands rather than the StarMan. It is Faraday who must lead us to you.”

Axis forced himself to relax. Anger would get him nowhere.

“It is our understanding,” Barsarbe said, “that you intend to war against the Acharites before you turn against Gorgrael.”

“There are those among the Acharites, principally Duke Borneheld and the Seneschal itself, who will oppose any moves to unite the three races against Gorgrael. I must … persuade … them, by any means I find necessary, that such an attitude is foolish. If that means war, as I believe, then so be it.”

Barsarbe glanced at Raum, then turned and looked at the Avar. “We will not help you in your war against Borneheld,” she said, turning back to Axis.

“Damn it!” Axis snapped, “Faraday Tree Friend is with Borneheld. Don’t you want to free her?”

“Why didn’t you bring her out of Gorkenfort?” Brode shouted, stepping forward aggressively. “Why is she not here with you now?”

“We had to battle our way out of Gorkenfort,” Axis said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “I judged her chances to be better if she remained with Borneheld. And there was no way I could seize her from Borneheld without risking her life.”

“The fact remains,” Barsarbe said, tilting her chin to look Axis in the eye, “that we will wait for her. Tree Friend will lead us home, not the StarMan. If she says we will unite with the Icarii and the Acharites, then we will do it. But only then.”

Anger made a muscle in Axis’ cheek flicker. The Avar had decided this well before he’d stepped inside the circle of stone.

“Axis,” Raum stepped up and addressed him directly. “You must understand the Avar. We are a reclusive people. We understand the Prophecy and we understand the threat of Gorgrael. We understand who you are and what your role is. But we are a people deeply scarred by the violence meted out to us during the Wars of the Axe. We are a people decimated by loss. We are not numerous, and we are not warlike. How could we fight for you? We have no Strike Force like our friends the Icarii. We have no weapons. So we wait for Tree Friend, and when she comes, then we will follow her. Faraday is a woman of gentleness and she is a woman bonded to the Mother. You are a warrior and you follow the way of the Stars. We mean you no disrespect nor do we mean to anger you, but we prefer to wait for Faraday.”

“I understand, my friend,” Axis said, placing a hand on Raum’s shoulder. He turned to the assembled Avar. “I apologise if my words have caused you hurt. Sometimes I am too impatient. I understand your reluctance to act and I will accept your decision to wait for Tree Friend – Faraday. It will make my desire to reach her even deeper.”

The entire assemblage of Avar visibly relaxed. None had been too sure how he would react to their decision. They knew that the Prophecy walked among them, but they would wait for the one who had been promised them. Faraday.

“Then we welcome you to Beltide, Axis SunSoar, StarMan,” Barsarbe smiled. “Beltide is the most joyous time of the year for us, a night when we put to one side all that troubles us, when we celebrate love and life and birth and renewal. Share with us that joy.”

Whereas the Yuletide rites were closely tied to the sun and the sun god Narcis, and the Icarii male Enchanters and Avar Banes dominated, Beltide celebrated the rebirth of the earth after the death of winter, and, in rites that celebrated renewal, the females had long dominated. Tonight Barsarbe, assisted by MorningStar, would lead the rites. StarDrifter, as all other male Enchanters and Banes, was relegated to the audience.

None of them minded a bit. This was a night when the audience had as much fun as those leading the rites.

Azhure gathered with the Avar and Icarii as dusk fell. She had spent the afternoon with Fleat and Shra of the GhostTree Clan. Shra had squealed with delight when she saw Azhure, throwing herself into the woman’s arms, and Fleat had smiled with genuine pleasure, inviting Azhure and Rivkah to sit at the GhostTree fire for the afternoon. They had caught up on news and renewed their friendship. Azhure was relieved to find that neither Fleat nor her husband Grindle laid any blame at Azhure’s feet for Pease’s death.

“Pease would not have wanted you to grieve overlong,” Fleat had said. “And tonight is Beltide, when wounds will be healed and new bonds will be forged. Tonight will be a joyous affair. We should not spoil Beltide with sorrowing for the dead. Pease would not want it.”

Now Rivkah and Azhure threaded their way through the growing crowds of Icarii and Avar in the Earth Tree Grove.

“Where are we going?” Azhure asked.

“We will sit with the SunSoars, Azhure. At least, we will start the night with them. Who knows with whom we will finish the night,” Rivkah replied, concentrating on finding her way through the throng of people.

Azhure was more than a little nervous about the Beltide celebrations. Over the past months there had been so many hints dropped about the excesses of a night when the normal ties and promises of unions were forgotten, a night when adventures could be explored without risk. When Avar and Icarii indulged curiosities and appetites otherwise forbidden.

And what would be offered her tonight? Azhure remembered the feel of StarDrifter’s arms about her in the training chamber, the taste of his mouth. She wondered if she would be able to deny StarDrifter a second time, now that he and Rivkah had parted. Would she let him sate her curiosity tonight?

The SunSoars sat at the foot of the black cliff face that bordered the western edge of the grove. To one side of them the Avarinheim forest stood dark and wrapped in shadows. RavenCrest sat a little to one side, reserved and aloof, his wife several paces away, a dreamy expression on her face. Were they both planning their Beltide games? Azhure wondered. Did even the Talon and his wife indulge their desires as they pleased?

“Where’s EvenSong?” she asked Axis as she sank down beside him, smoothing out her crimson robe. Her hair tumbled loose about her shoulders and down her back.

“She offered to serve with the patrols tonight,” Axis explained. “She said that without FreeFall she had no interest in Beltide.”

“Are we safe?” Azhure asked.

“We are safe,” Axis said, his eyes on the circle of stone. “The Strike Force has a strong presence in the sky and in the surrounding forest. There is not a Skraeling within fifty leagues.”

Several paces away StarDrifter sat in the shadow of a slight cleft in the cliff face. Tonight he was determined to have Azhure. Over the past months his desire for her had grown to the point where it dominated his every waking thought and drove him to dream of her constantly. He had never wanted another woman – Icarii, Acharite or Avar – like this. On the night before they had flown out to the Avarinheim he had dreamt that they were both tumbling entwined through the sky, their wings tangled and useless as they fell towards the ground, their thoughts only on assuaging their savage needs. In that dream Azhure had the wings and the features of an Icarii.

Tonight he would take her. Possess her, finally. He had told Axis that Azhure would bear powerful Enchanters, and tonight he meant to get one on her. But the night was long, and it was not yet time.

Avar Banes stepped through the crowds, quiet now as the rites neared. They carried deep bowls of dark liquid which glinted ruby red whenever a stray moonbeam caught them.

The young Bane who served their section stepped in front of RavenCrest first, murmured to him, then offered him the bowl. RavenCrest drank, then the Bane turned to BrightFeather, then to Rivkah. He stepped carefully through the rocks and offered StarDrifter the blessed wine, then he turned to Axis.

“Drink well and deep,’ Axis SunSoar, and may the sacred wine of Beltide remind you of the joy and the steps of the Star Dance as you celebrate the renewal of life tonight.”

Axis took the bowl in both hands and drank the wine deeply. He raised his head only with reluctance and Azhure, watching him, noticed that the wine clung in heavy, red drops to his beard. Two of the drops ran together, trickling down through the short golden hairs. She stared at them, fascinated. The wine was so thick and heavy it reminded her of blood.

The Bane paused briefly before Azhure, then bowed his head in regret. “You have not been accepted among us, Azhure. I am afraid that I cannot offer you the –”

He stopped, shocked, as Axis stood and took the bowl from his hands. “I take the responsibility,” Axis said. “The wine is almost gone and you are needed before the circle of stone. I will take responsibility for what remains of the sacred wine.”

After a moment the Bane bowed stiffly. “The bowl and its contents are your responsibility, Axis SunSoar,” he said, then turned and marched away, every step stiff with displeasure.

Axis turned to Azhure.

“Stand, Azhure,” he said, and Azhure slowly stood, her eyes on his face.

“Drink well and deep, Azhure,” Axis said softly. “And may the sacred wine of Beltide remind you of the joy and the steps of the Star Dance as you celebrate the renewal of life tonight. Celebrate.”

Azhure hesitated, aware that every eye within twenty paces’ radius was on her.

“Drink,” Axis repeated, his voice insistent.

Azhure reached for the bowl. As her hands wrapped themselves about the bowl. Axis, instead of dropping his own hands, slid them around the bowl to cover hers.

“Drink,” he whispered.

The moment the warm, viscous liquid filled her mouth Azhure understood why all those she’d watched had been reluctant to relinquish the bowl. The wine felt alive and seemed to speak to her, sing to her as it filled her mouth. It tasted of earth and salt, birth and death, wisdom and sadness beyond knowing. As the warm, coppery liquid slid down her throat and warmed her belly, Azhure thought she could hear music. Wild music, as if the stars themselves were reeling naked and crazed with lust through the night sky.

Azhure took another great mouthful. There was not much left.

“Thank you, Axis,” she said from the depths of her heart. “Thank you for making me a part of this night. I would that you drink the last mouthful.”

Their hands still locked together about the bowl, Axis raised it to his lips and drained it. Now the trail of wine through his beard looked more like blood than ever and Azhure was vividly reminded of the magnificent Stag sacrificed in this grove at Yuletide.

“His life, his blood, he gave to us to celebrate tonight,” Axis said, and placed the bowl carefully to one side of a boulder. Azhure wondered how he knew what she’d been thinking. As she turned she found every SunSoar eye riveted on her. Let them think what they like, she told herself, and sat down in one graceful movement. Already Azhure could feel the effects of the wine racing through her blood.

A light flared behind the torch-lit stone archways and all eyes turned away from Azhure and towards the circle.

Azhure blinked, her vision blurring, but her eyes cleared and she stared at the circle.

Figures dimly moved behind the archways, and wild music erupted violently into the night. This music was nothing like that Azhure had heard at Yuletide, or in Talon Spike. The Icarii generally sang unaccompanied, or used harps to make their music. But this music was the music of wild pipes. Avar music as Azhure had never heard it before.

The music reeled through the night and twisted down among the crowds until groups of the watchers stood to dance, gyrating wildly. Azhure longed to be with them, but, just as she was about to leap up, the music abruptly stopped.

Azhure’s blood throbbed in her ears and her heart beat madly. Was it the music or the fermented stag’s blood?

Someone nudged her elbow. It was Rivkah, smiling a little secretively as she held out a gourd of wine. “It is not as good as that you have just drunk, Azhure, but it is good nevertheless. Drink, and pass it on.”

Azhure took the wine and drank deeply, then handed the gourd to Axis. His face was intense. Perhaps he waits for the music to begin again, thought Azhure, and as she passed the wine over she touched the blood where it still lingered within his beard and at the corner of his mouth.

A movement at the edge of Azhure’s vision caught her attention, and she looked back to the circle.

A figure walked through one of the archways, and a murmur ran through the watching crowd. It was Barsarbe, small, delicate, and completely, utterly naked. She had painted spiral designs over her body, emphasising her breasts and her belly, although what paint she had used Azhure could not see.

“It is what remains of the stag’s blood,” said Axis quietly at her side. “Can you not see its redness? Smell its warmth?”

“I have not the senses of an Enchanter,” Azhure muttered, unable to drag her eyes away from Barsarbe.

Another woman walked through the archways. It was MorningStar, similarly naked, similarly painted, although this time the paint was some golden substance that highlighted the beautiful pale sheen of her skin.

By Azhure’s side Axis stirred uncomfortably.

Both women started to dance. The pipe music had begun again, but it was softer this time, less insistent, and there was an accompaniment of drums that mirrored the beating of Azhure’s heart.

The beat made her think, momentarily, of the insistent tug of the waves against a distant shoreline, and of the dip and sway of the moon.

As StarDrifter used his voice to speak and persuade, to relive memories and to tell stories, so the slow, sensuous dance of these two women spoke of many things to the watching eyes. They spoke of the gradual reawakening of the earth under the soft and sensual touch of the sun; of the seeds of life that lay buried under cover of darkness for long months but were now stimulated into life; of the green shoots that burst through the sod and grew to feed the mouths of man and beast. They spoke of the continual renewal of life, whether in the earth or in the belly of a doe or a woman; of the joy that was granted each time a child drew breath for the first time; and they spoke of love, its delights, its place in the continual renewal of the earth and of life.

Barsarbe danced with passion, but it was MorningStar who stirred Azhure the most. She not only used her long limbs and lithe body, but also her wings, using them one moment to hide and tantalise, the next to invite and demand.

The dance of the two women was budding to its zenith, their movements slower but more intense. A man stood to dance with MorningStar, and with a start Azhure saw that it was Grindle, leader of the GhostTree Clan. MorningStar orientated her dance to Grindle alone, while another man now rose and danced with Barsarbe. Azhure swallowed as their movements became more intense, more intimate. Many Avar and Icarii were now engaged in their own private dances, while inside the stone circle, dimly visible frantic figures were writhing in pairs on the ground. Azhure did not need an Enchanter’s vision to know what they were doing.

The wine sang through her blood.

Without conscious thought, Azhure stood and walked through the boulders into the surrounding forest.

Azhure walked until she no longer heard the music of the pipes or the drums. The grass was soft and cool under her feet, and the Earth Tree sang soft and seductive over her head. The night mist thickened around her, until it seemed that she was moving through a drifting sea of soft silver. Azhure had no sense of confinement, for the silvery mist created an atmosphere of light and space.

The wine sang through her blood, and somewhere, deep within her, she thought she could feel the faint pull of an answering Song. She slowed her steps. Her hands drifted to the emerald sash that bound her crimson robe, and she undid it, letting it fall gently to the ground, rejoicing in the feel of the material floating free to wrap and fold itself against her body in the soft, damp air of the Avarinheim.

The Earth Tree sang sweet and gentle, and Azhure closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the Avarinheim wrap her in its loveliness, giving herself completely to the Song surging through her blood.

The sense that another answered it was stronger now, more insistent, and Azhure opened her eyes.

StarDrifter stood some ten or fifteen paces away, holding out his hand and smiling. Slowly his fingers curled, beckoning, once, twice, a third time, and Azhure rocked as the Song roared through her blood in response.

A twig cracked behind her.

Azhure turned her head. The Song of her blood was now almost deafening; she could no longer hear the Earth Tree.

Distant, still distant, another figure was walking through the mist towards her. Axis.

“Azhure!” StarDrifter’s voice cracked across her consciousness and Azhure blinked, tears springing to her eyes at the anger and tension in his voice. “Azhure! To me! Your blood calls to me, for me. Answer it. Now!”

But now a deep, gentle Song surged through her, intermingling with her own blood, and this Song she knew was Axis calling to her.

She moaned, her hands clenching by her side, knowing that her blood demanded of her that she choose, hating herself, knowing that she could not walk away.

The mist clung thick and loving to both forms, so that both StarDrifter and Axis, equal distances from her now, seemed ethereal, wraithlike, in the forest. Each now beckoned, demanding.

Without conscious thought or decision, Azhure turned to StarDrifter. His eyes widened in triumph and his fingers flared towards her.

“Sorry,” she whispered, then walked towards Axis.

Behind her StarDrifter screamed.

Axis had thought his heart would tear itself apart with victory and craving when Azhure turned to walk towards him, her eyes downcast. His entire body had vibrated with every beat of his heart, his blood as wild and as febrile as the pulse of the feral pipe music.

“Dance with me,” he’d whispered, and Azhure had raised her eyes to his. Neither had cared if StarDrifter still watched.

Now she rested, heavy and warm along the length of his body, sleeping. They lay underneath a stand of giant feather-back ferns, encased in green tracery, warm and safe.

Axis shifted slightly, tensing a little as Azhure mumbled in her sleep, then relaxing with her as she slipped deeper into her dreams.

Did she dream of him? He knew he would dream of her for many long nights to come. No other had ever made him feel this way. She had sent him reeling among the stars, until his entire vision had been filled with the myriad blur of the stars as they rushed by, seizing him up in their mad dance through the heavens, until he could feel his very soul tear itself loose from its moorings and crash free about the firmament itself. Wonder and madness, exultation and pain, all had consumed him. He had withheld nothing, could withhold nothing, from this woman.

Perhaps it was her virginity, perhaps it was Beltide night, perhaps it was the wine they had both consumed. Axis did not know. Perhaps it was because this was the first time he had coupled with a woman since coming into his full powers as an Enchanter.

Slowly his touch grew firmer, and his hand moved further down her arm. How long, Axis wondered, did his body need to recover before he could make love to her again? His hand drifted to her back, and his touch softened. He remembered holding her as he lost himself among the surging waves of the Star Dance, feeling the terrible ridged scars that ran the length of her back. Only the single smooth strip of skin over her spine had escaped the cruel hand that had inflicted these scars. Why? What spirit of cruelty had driven Hagen to inflict this pain on Azhure?

“Azhure,” he whispered, wishing the circle of his arms could protect her from any further hurt. He leaned his body towards her, stroking her gently awake.

She woke slowly, opening her smoky eyes into his pale ones. “Axis? Did we …” She hesitated.

“Did we celebrate Beltide together, my lady? Do you not remember?”

Azhure laughed a little, her cheeks colouring. “Yes. I remember.”

Axis smiled, and kissed her very slowly, refreshing her memory. His hand moved down over her hips.

“And tell me, Azhure, did you ever think, when you were a small child growing up in Smyrton, that you would lose your virginity to an Icarii Enchanter on the hard ground of the Avarinheim forest?”

Azhure did not hesitate in her reply. “I swore that I would never give myself to anyone less than a hero, Axis SunSoar. That I should love him so deeply makes this night the more sweet.”

Axis’ hand stilled. “Azhure,” he stumbled. “Do not love me. I cannot, I … Faraday …” His voice trailed off. It was the first time he had thought about Faraday this night, and the guilt struck deep.

Azhure flinched at the expression on his face. “I know, Axis,” she whispered. “I know. I did not expect to be loved in return.”

Now Axis winced. Who had he betrayed here tonight? Faraday – or Azhure? He leaned down and kissed Azhure again, shifting his body against hers, allowing his desire to swamp him. The night was yet young, and Faraday was very far away.

Neither knew that somewhere, sitting in front of his lonely fire, the Prophet laughed at the man and woman entwined beneath the ferns. He was pleased. Well pleased. Azhure had served the Prophecy well this night.