Читать книгу Battleaxe: Book One of the Axis Trilogy - Sara Douglass - Страница 19

Embeth had heard stories all her life about the almost legendary ability of the Axe-Wielders to move fast and far, no matter the size of their column. She had never really believed them, thinking them soldiers’ stories from the bottom of a jug of ale. But after riding five days from sun-up to sundown she realised the stories were all true.

The column of Axe-Wielders contained over three and a half thousand mounted men, at least three hundred packhorses, several hundred riderless horses who were rotated among the riders each day, and, Embeth grimaced as they slowed down to make camp on the fifth night, seven very sore women (none of whom had fallen off at the first overflowing gutter). There was also one equally sore Brother Gilbert and, unbelievably, a fat white cat which must have stowed away on one of the packhorses. Every evening it strolled out of the dark and wound around the BattleAxe’s legs, purring loudly and contentedly despite his curses. Every morning it strolled off into the dawn and no-one saw it again until the evening.

Embeth twisted around in her saddle. Gilbert was riding morosely along about twenty paces behind them. Still sulking at being sent to the Silent Woman Keep with the Axe-Wielders, Gilbert preferred not to spend his days in conversation if he could help it. Lady Merlion clutched grimly to the pommel of her saddle, no doubt cursing (well, perhaps not that) her husband for sending them along with the Axe-Wielders to Arcness. Faraday, younger and more flexible both in mind and body, was coping rather better. After the first day’s ride she had abandoned the long trailing skirts of her riding habit and dressed herself in a more sensible divided skirt to ride astride. Her hair hung in a girlish fashion down her back in a thick plait. Lady Merlion had remonstrated with Faraday over both skirt and hair, but Faraday had managed to hold her ground. Embeth shifted in the saddle a little.

“We appear to be slowing down,” she called, reining in her horse slightly so that Merlion and Faraday could draw level. “There’s a hollow about five hundred paces ahead; perhaps the BattleAxe will be kind to us and decide to make camp there.” She had seen several Axe-Wielders ride out ahead of the main body of the column, inspect the site, and report back to Axis, plainly visible on his grey stallion at the head of the leading unit.

“One can only hope so,” Merlion grumbled, her wispy pale hair starting to drift loose from underneath her head-dress. She looked tired and dishevelled and fifteen years older than when she had set out. “The man obviously has no idea that women should not be made to travel so fast. My maids are so exhausted at night they can hardly attend to my needs.”

Faraday exchanged a brief smile with Embeth. “This is no pleasure jaunt, mother. The BattleAxe rides at a soldier’s pace.”

Axis had studiously ignored the lot of them thus far. Although the soldiers pitched the women’s tents close to Axis’ personal campsite at night, he spent most of the time moving from campfire to campfire in the evening, talking to his men and conferring with his officers. He only returned to his bedroll late at night, and then only to collapse into an exhausted sleep. The women sat at their own campfire talking amongst themselves, a small pocket of femininity among the thousands of men surrounding them. While Merlion trusted her daughter to retain her virtue, she kept a careful eye on the maids who travelled with them. They had shown a disconcerting willingness to disappear from their bedrolls at night.

A horseman rode back from the head of the column and drew level with the women. “Timozel!” Embeth cried delightedly, for she had hardly seen her son on this march.

Timozel grinned at his mother and sketched a bow to the other two women. “My ladies, I trust you have enjoyed your excursion thus far.”

Faraday smiled at Timozel, taking an instant liking to him. He was a year or two older than her, and still with the slightly thin and big-boned frame of a youth yet to fill out into maturity. He had the look of his mother with a shock of rich brown curls and dark blue eyes, but must have inherited the wide mobile mouth and hooked nose from his father. Despite his youth he handled his rangy bay gelding with the skill of an experienced horseman, and the axe and sword that hung to each side of his body gave him the look of a man rather than a boy.

Timozel looked at Faraday and his grin widened for a moment. Faraday reddened slightly, although her own smile widened to match his own and her eyes sparkled with pleasure. Embeth watched the exchange with some amusement. What a shame that Faraday had been betrothed before she could experience the simple enjoyments of flirting at court. Now she would never have the chance. Not with Borneheld to watch over her.

“Ladies, mother, I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that we’ll be stopping a little earlier today. There’s a good campsite just ahead, with excellent shelter and water. The BattleAxe is pleased with the progress we’ve made thus far and wants to take advantage of this campsite to rest both ourselves and our horses a little longer this evening.”

“The man has mercy!” Merlion muttered, trying in vain to tuck her hair back into order beneath her headdress.

“The BattleAxe has requested that I extend an invitation on his behalf for the Ladies Merlion, Embeth and Faraday to join him at his campfire this evening to share the evening meal.”

Timozel kept his tone light and charming, although he had his own reservations about the message he delivered. Though his mother did not realise it, Timozel had been aware for some time of her relationship with Axis. The knowledge had soured Timozel’s previous admiration for his BattleAxe. But Timozel hid his doubts well, and neither Axis nor Embeth had any idea of the simmering resentment beneath his good-natured and courteous exterior.

Embeth’s mouth twitched in amusement at Timozel’s message. She doubted Axis had managed to put the invitation so politely. She turned to Merlion, who, as the senior lady present, would have to accept or refuse on their behalf.

Faraday’s eyes pleaded with her mother. “Please, mother! The evenings have been so dull. Perhaps Timozel can join us.”

“It would be my pleasure, my lady,” Timozel smiled, inclining his head towards Faraday and then turning to bow politely at her mother.

Timozel’s display of courtly manners impressed Merlion. If this youth would join them, well, perhaps they would have some polite conversation after all. Even Merlion had missed masculine company in the evenings. Brother Gilbert, if and when he joined them, hardly counted.

“We will accept the BattleAxe’s gracious offer. Kindly tell him that we will be pleased to share the evening meal with him.”

For a while after they finished eating the group watched the campfire spit and hiss in the chill evening air. Gilbert, Timozel and Belial had joined Axis and the three noblewomen so that, in the best courtly tradition, the number of men exceeded the number of women. There had been enough time, after making camp, for the women to wash with water brought from the nearby stream and to brush their hair out. While Merlion and Embeth had both dressed their hair on top of their heads, Faraday had left hers in the long braid, wispy tendrils brushing her cheeks.

The meal had been simple but good. Axis was in a fine mood, feeling more relaxed than he had since Jayme’s urgent message reached him in Coroleas. This was the first time he had taken virtually the entire Axe-Wielders on such a hard and fast march, and he had fretted about their speed and a myriad of other small details. But things were going well and they were moving even faster than he had hoped. Years of planning and training were paying off. His men were doing him proud.

The large hollow, several hundred paces across, sheltered them from the cold wind. Axis stretched his legs out before the fire so that his booted feet could take maximum advantage of the flames, leaned back against a waist-high rock, and contemplated Faraday.

“My Lady Faraday,” he said smoothly, “it has been bothering me that I should find your face so familiar when, to my knowledge, we have never met before this march.” He wondered if she would admit to her ill-mannered stare the night of the banquet.

Faraday smiled uncertainly, her hands clutching her knees where they were drawn up to her chest. “Really? … ah …” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure how to address him. “BattleAxe” was so inappropriate in the relaxed mood about the fire, yet “Axis” seemed too familiar. She could hardly call him “my Lord”, because to all intents and purposes his illegitimate birth placed him beyond that respectable and noble title.

“You undoubtedly saw me at Priam’s nameday banquet in the Chamber of the Moons. I’m afraid that I was staring. The Axe-Wielders have such a legendary reputation in Skarabost, indeed, around all Achar itself, that I have long desired to see one. I was fortunate that my first sight of an Axe-Wielder was of their BattleAxe himself. I apologise from my heart for my bad manners that night, Axis Rivkahson.”

Embeth’s mouth dropped open in shock – and hers was not the only one. Never had she known anyone to address Axis so. He was extraordinarily sensitive about the circumstances surrounding his birth, so that no-one, no-one, ever referred to his mother or to his illegitimate status to his face. Yet … yet … Embeth had to admit that she was stunned, not only by Faraday’s explicit mention of Rivkah, but by the girl’s exquisite handling of what was undoubtedly an embarrassing moment for her. In the end, Faraday had done the impossible; she had referred to Axis’ illegitimate status in such a graceful manner as to make Axis’ connection to his mother a virtue rather than an embarrassment.

Axis looked as stunned as Embeth felt, but Embeth could see that emotions battled inside him. His instant reaction had been a surge of anger and humiliation that Faraday had referred so openly to his illegitimacy, but now he was confused by the fact that neither her eyes nor her tone held any trace of mockery. He groped for something to say, but such a complex mix of emotions surged through him that he could find no words.

Faraday clearly understood what she had started and she understood as well that having started it she would have to lay it to rest. She spoke again into the absolute silence about the campfire, her voice gentle, her eyes fixed on Axis. “I have heard that the Princess Rivkah was a woman of remarkable qualities, Axis, and you must surely be proud to have had such a woman as your mother. Yet I am equally sure that she too would be proud to have you as her son, and to have you bear her name through these years that she is unable to live herself.”

Embeth closed her eyes against the tears that pricked up in them. In the eighteen years she had known Axis she had never presumed upon their friendship enough to mention his mother to him so openly. And yet this young woman had spoken clearly and simply of Rivkah’s pride and love for Axis as if it were undoubted fact. Embeth did not often feel so deeply moved, and especially by one so young. She opened her eyes again and looked between Axis and Faraday. Perhaps her reticence in past years had been a mistake.

Axis took a slow, deep breath, profoundly affected by Faraday’s words. “Thank you, Faraday. It is rare that I hear anyone speak so well of my mother.”

Faraday’s beautiful smile lit up her face and Axis’ eyes darkened perceptibly as they looked back at Faraday.

Embeth, watching the two of them, felt a sudden chill of premonition. “Dear Artor,” she whispered to herself. “Not this … not this.” Not with Faraday bound to Borneheld. Not with the contracts signed and the betrothal oaths taken before witnesses. Not with the bitterness that already existed between the two brothers. If it could be stopped before it went too much further then the tragedy might be averted. She would have to speak to Faraday, the sooner the better.

Embeth smiled and spoke lightly, deliberately breaking the look between them. “Axis, it is so rare that I have a chance to hear you play your harp. Will you play for us now? And Timozel, do you have your lute with you?”

There was a collective sigh of relief around the fire as the mood changed.

“Only if the ladies agree to accompany us with their voices,” Timozel said, unsure what to think about the scene he had just witnessed.

For a man so given to the military arts, Axis had an unexpected flair for music and song. Embeth was never aware of who had taught Axis his skill on the harp – he was proficient even when he joined her and Ganelon at eleven. Although far less skilled, Timozel could accompany well enough and the three women were all practised with their voices. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly with ballads and songs of love and adventure.

Gilbert, protesting his inability to keep a tune, sat silently throughout the evening, applauding the musicians and singers whenever they finished a song and smiling at their laughter. His sharp eyes, however, kept returning to Axis and Faraday. Jayme had told him to report everything he witnessed, everything, and Gilbert meant to do just that.