Enchanter: Book Two of the Axis Trilogy. Sara Douglass

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      FarSight stood, the combination of his ebony wings and uniform with his black hair and eyes and swarthy complexion giving him the appearance of a bird of prey. He saluted Axis crisply, then spoke.

      “My fellow Icarii. This morning five of our farflight scouts, who have been on a long and dangerous mission to the Urqhart Hills, brought astounding news. Axis’ army, commanded at the moment by his loyal lieutenants Belial and Magariz …”

      Far below, Rivkah’s face went ashen with shock.

      “… has taken possession of the ancient Keep of Sigholt. Sigholt lives, and it waits for us. Our first step back into Tencendor has been taken.”

      Again cheering broke out, but Axis did not let it go on so long this time.

      “My people,” he shouted, “listen to me! It is from Sigholt that we will reunite Tencendor, from Sigholt that we will bring the Seneschal and Borneheld to their knees.”

      Ah, Azhure thought to herself. So that is what he meant when he said my first target in war may not be Skraelings. Well, it will hardly grieve me to take part in the destruction of the Seneschal.

      “It is from Sigholt that we will create the momentum which will win us Tencendor and drive Gorgrael from this land!”

      Axis stood proud and tall in the centre of the golden floor, his tunic glowing, the blood-red sun blazing on his chest. He raised his hands in appeal to the assembled Icarii.

      “I am the StarMan and I will lead you back into Tencendor. I promise you this. Icarii, will you come home with me?”

      There was no doubt about the response. Every Icarii in the Chamber surged to his or her feet, screaming Axis’ name.

      His family, sitting to one side, regarded Axis with mixed emotions. Rivkah and StarDrifter watched with soaring pride that they had created this man. MorningStar watched him and felt regret at the passing of an era. Life for the Icarii would never be the same again. EvenSong watched him and thought of FreeFall. Axis had, to all intents and purposes, usurped FreeFall’s position, but could FreeFall ever have united the notoriously divisive Icarii like this?

      RavenCrest, like his mother, sat and watched the passing of an age. Tonight he had witnessed the eclipse of his own power. Talon he still might be, but Axis now wielded true authority in the Icarii nation. Already he had grasped power. RavenCrest’s shoulders and wings slumped a little. Like EvenSong, he too thought of FreeFall.

      Again Axis held his hands up for silence. “Peace, my people. I thank you for your support.”

      “When will we return to Tencendor?” a voice called from high up in the Chamber.

      “When will we mass to fight the Seneschal and Borneheld?” cried a member of the Strike Force.

      “We will return and we will fight,” Axis said. “But we will do neither tomorrow. The Strike Force still needs training, and especially training with those who await them in Sigholt. In two weeks we go to Beltide celebrations with the Avar, and following Beltide and over the next few months the Strike Force will begin to move down to Sigholt. And I, too, need more training.”

      “No!” cried one overly excited Icarii. “You are already the most powerful Enchanter we have seen in generations. More training? I think not!” He was supported by a surge of cheers.

      Axis grinned. “I will be more powerful with the training I have in mind. Rivkah, my mother,” he turned and gave her a small bow and she smiled and inclined her head, “has won for me the right to ask the Charonites for assistance. The assistance I shall ask for will be their secrets.”

      His words surprised the majority of the Icarii, for not many knew the Charonites still existed. StarDrifter allowed a small flicker of pride to show. His son would learn the secrets that the Charonites had guarded for so many thousands of years.

      “I shall be gone from you for some time following Beltide,” Axis continued, “but I will return. And when I return, then will I lead you out into Tencendor. I will take you home.”

      The cheering broke out anew. The Icarii had waited a long time for this and they were not going to quibble about a small delay now.

       13

       Dinner at the Tired Seagull

      Timozel sat wrapped in his own peculiar stillness, as if the others seated at the dining table did not exist.

      The visions came more often now, and far, far more vividly.

      He rode a great beast – not a horse, something different – that dipped and soared. He fought for a great Lord, and in the name of that Lord he commanded a mighty army which undulated for leagues in every direction. Hundreds of thousands screamed his name and hurried to fulfil his every wish.

      Before him another army, his pitiful enemy, lay quavering in terror. They could not counter his brilliance. Their commander lay abed, unable to summon the courage to meet Timozel in just combat.

      In the name of his Lord he would clear Achar of the invading filth.

      “Yes,” he mumbled, and Borneheld shot him an irritated glance.

      A great and glorious battle and the enemy’s positions were overrun – to the man (and others stranger that fought shoulder to shoulder with them) the enemy died. Timozel lost not one soldier.

      Another day, another battle. The enemy used foul magic, and Timozel’s forces were grievously hurt … but Timozel still won the field, and the enemy and their commander retreated before him.

      Another day. Timozel sat before the leaping fire with his Lord, Faraday at their side. All was well. Timozel had found the light and his destiny.

      His name would live in legend forever.

      All was well.

      The vision dimmed and Timozel heard Borneheld chastise Faraday yet again.

      “You are worthless to me!” Borneheld hissed. Faraday stiffened. Her husband’s words were clearly audible to all those seated at the table.

      “Worthless!” Borneheld said. “How many months have we been married? Four? Five? Your belly should be swollen with my son by now.”

      Faraday focused on a distant point of the room, refusing to let her cheeks stain red. The Mother had answered her prayers and continued to bless her with barrenness, and she was not going to force false promises past her lips. The line of Dukes of Ichtar would end in her empty womb.

      Her calm expression intensified Borneheld’s fury. “Your barrenness is not for want of trying on my part, Faraday,” he said, louder now. “Perhaps I should summon a physician to mix you a herbal.”

      To his left Gautier grinned, but Duke Roland, sitting on Faraday’s other side, looked extremely embarrassed.

      Faraday СКАЧАТЬ