Battleaxe (15 page)

F
araday took a step backwards, almost tripping over the low boulder she had been sitting on when Axis had disturbed her. What was wrong with his eyes? All the tales about the evil aspects of the Forbidden she had heard as a child came rushing back to her.

Veremund held out his hand to her. “Do not be afraid, dear one. We do not mean to hurt you. Come, take my hand.”

Faraday, her heart beating wildly, stood looking at him.

“Please, dear one, take my hand.”

His tone was soft and gentle, and Faraday found herself reaching her own trembling hand forth. The moment his fingers touched Faraday a feeling of tranquillity flooded over her.

“Will you walk with us a while, dear one? The others are waiting to talk to you as well.” He began to lead her towards the nearest Barrow.

“The others? Which others? What do you want to talk about?” Faraday suddenly realised that Veremund had witnessed her talk with Axis. “Oh, Veremund, please! What happened between Axis and myself just then was simply foolishness. It meant nothing! You won’t tell Mother, will you?”

Veremund paused a moment to let Yr down, then turned back to
Faraday. “No, child, I won’t tell your mother. But what happened between you and the BattleAxe hardly meant nothing.”

“Then it has nothing to do with you, Veremund! What happens between Axis and myself is our own business.”

Veremund shook his head. “I think not, dear one. Neither you nor Axis will have very private lives in the future. Now, we have to climb a little. Save your breath for the slope.”

Veremund still held onto her hand, and as they climbed the steep side of the Ancient Barrow Faraday found she needed more and more to reach down and steady herself with her free hand. “Where are we going?” she panted after some fifteen minutes. Yr bounded ahead of them with an apparently endless supply of feline grace and energy.

“Shhh,” said Veremund, hardly breathing deeply at all, “we’re almost there now.”

A moment later they climbed onto the top of the Barrow. Even though they were in an exposed spot, the air was still and calm and not a breath of the cold north wind touched their faces. From Faraday’s vantage point a hundred paces in the air the hundreds of campfires of the Axe-Wielders seemed like a necklace of diamonds and rubies nestling around the Barrows.

“Look,” Veremund pointed. “They wait.”

Faraday followed his finger. “Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised. About twenty paces away, in the very centre of the small plateau on top of the Barrow, Ogden and Jack the pig boy sat inside a circle of white stones. Jack’s heavy staff lay to one side outside the ring of white stones. “How did Jack get here?” she said, half to herself. “We rode so fast.”

“Jack knows the land somewhat better than the Axemen with whom we ride,” Veremund said mildly. “Come.”

Faraday let herself be led towards the other two. Yr’s small white form reappeared a few paces in front of them, and she sat down between Jack and Ogden just as Faraday and Veremund stepped up. Faraday stepped into the circle of white stones.

“Lovely lady,” Jack smiled at her, although he did not rise, “it gladdens my heart to see you again.” Faraday looked at him carefully.
He did not look so simple tonight, although his good-hearted nature still shone forth at her. “Please, sit down within this our circle, and know that you are safe among us.”

Faraday sat down cross-legged, tugging the skirt she had donned after the day’s ride down over her knees and ankles. She turned to Veremund to say something, but the old man laid a soft finger across her lips as he sat down beside her. “Shush, dear one. For the moment you must simply watch and listen. We will answer all your questions in good time. Remember that you are in no danger.”

Faraday looked about the group. All of their eyes glowed in a most unusual manner, almost as if there were coloured lamps behind them. Ogden and Veremund’s eyes shone golden, Jack’s a brilliant emerald green, while Yr’s glimmered a deep midnight blue.

“Let us begin,” Yr said in a soft, burred voice, the end of her tail twitching slightly.

Faraday just managed to stifle a shocked gasp. The cat blinked slowly at her, then turned back to her companions.

“We are…” she began.

“Diligent,” Ogden whispered in a tone reminiscent of brothers when they chanted the Service of the Plough.

“Careful,” Jack whispered in the same tone.

“Heedful,” Veremund chanted softly beside her. Faraday’s eyes were wide as the chant went on about her, each taking turns to carry the chant on.

“Attentive.”

“Mindful.”

“Regardful.”

“Thoughtful.”

“We are the…” Veremund chanted softly.

“Harbourers.”

“Keepers.”

“Shelterers.”

“Servants.”

“We wait,” they all chanted together, “for…”

“The One.”

“The Appointed.”

“The Saviour.”

“The StarMan,” they all breathed as one. Then they all turned their startling eyes on Faraday.

“We are the Sentinels!” they suddenly finished with a shout. Overhead the clouds milled in sudden anger and lightening forked through them. Thunder cracked and roared so that the very Barrow they sat on trembled.

The mood was broken now, and Yr followed Faraday’s eyes to the sky. “Ah,” she said, “the Destroyer knows we have emerged to walk the land of Tencendor again. See his temper. He will seek us out, soon enough.”

“What is this?” Faraday whispered, lowering her eyes. “Who are you?
What
are you?” She looked at Jack, for she could not talk directly to the cat. “How can Yr speak?”

Jack smiled gently at her confusion. “We all choose different forms, dear one. Yr,” he turned and smiled affectionately at the cat, “prefers a form that will let her be stroked as much as possible. She has always been a sensual creature. Not all of us are so social, however. My other companions,” nodding at Ogden and Veremund, “and myself generally prefer solitude to company, prefer the pursuits of the mind rather than the pleasures of the flesh.” Looking at Ogden and Veremund’s stained and tatty habits Faraday thought that they had totally ignored the basics of cleanliness as well as the pleasures of the flesh. Her nose wrinkled a little in distaste.

“As for what we are, sweet child,” Ogden continued, the first time he had spoken directly to Faraday since she had sat down among them, “well, you do not need to know it all. But this we can tell you. We are creatures of the Prophecy, recruited and recreated and bound to serve the Prophecy. We are watchers and waiters, it is true, but we are also in a manner servants.”

Faraday forgot her distaste of a moment earlier and blinked in confusion, unable to take in all she had witnessed over the past few minutes. “But are you not the Brothers Ogden and Veremund? Or are you some kind of magical creatures?”

“No, we are not Ogden and Veremund as such. Ogden and Veremund were once Brothers of the Seneschal, it is true. But they died a long time ago when they tried to enter the Silent Woman Woods. Because any visitors to the Silent Woman Keep would have expected to find Brothers of the Seneschal in residence, we simply assumed the forms of Ogden and Veremund. And are we magical creatures?” Ogden shrugged a little. “Perhaps, but we wield very little magic ourselves, and each of us has slightly different talents.”

Faraday shuddered and bit her lip. She did not want to hear any more.

“You must hear it, lovely lady,” Jack said, his tone firm. “We are creatures of the Prophecy and we serve the Prophecy. You are now also bound up in it, and you have no choice but to let the Prophecy bind you to its will.”

“No, no,” Faraday whispered. “This is madness!” She wanted desperately to get up and run, but her limbs felt heavy and refused to move for her.

“Listen to us, Faraday.” Ogden spoke up again. “Remember the Prophecy as Timozel told you this morning. The Destroyer Gorgrael has arisen in the north. Driven by all-consuming hatred, aided by his powerful magic, he will overrun all of Achar, of Tencendor. The races of Icarii, Avar and mankind must unite. That is the only way that Gorgrael can be stopped. But only one man can do it.”

“Axis,” Faraday whispered. “Oh merciful Artor!”

“Merciful Artor can do nothing,” Yr snapped. “It was His minions who drove the Icarii and the Avar from their homeland in the first place.” Her tail swept in angry arcs behind her.

“Yr,” Veremund remonstrated gently. “She cannot help her upbringing. Yet she will be true. She will do her duty.”

“She must!” Yr said, only slightly mollified, still trapped in her hatred of the Seneschal. Of them all, Yr knew most about the internal machinations of the Seneschal, and the more she knew the more she loathed the Brotherhood.

Faraday frowned. “But if the Prophecy is correct, that makes Borneheld the Destroyer, doesn’t it? Isn’t the StarMan the Destroyer’s brother?”

“Borneheld and Axis share the same mother, dear one. The Destroyer and Axis share the same father.”

Faraday looked at the Sentinels, calmly watching her. “Then who is his father?”

Yr’s lips curled. “Not even we know that, child. Would that we did. It would make things so much clearer. We are creatures, servants only, of the Prophecy. Not even we understand all of its riddles.”

“Faraday,” Jack said gently, “before we go any further, we must know what the trees told you. What did you ask them, sweet child, and what did they sing for you?”

Tears rolled down Faraday’s face as she remembered the dreadful vision the trees had shown her. “I asked them to show me my husband. I was unsure about my marriage to Borneheld.”

“And what did they show you, Faraday?” Veremund rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. It gave Faraday strength. Haltingly, she described to them the dreadful images, leaving nothing out. Her voice grew ragged and distressed as she described the blood dripping through Axis’ hair, his hand stretched out—in appeal, she supposed—and the great gout of blood that soaked her.

“Dear child,” Ogden asked carefully, as she finally ground to a halt. “You asked the trees to show you your husband. Which man did you see first?”

Faraday frowned in thought. “Borneheld,” she said finally. “It was Borneheld. Why? What does it matter?”

“Ah,” said Veremund and Ogden together, unhelpfully. Yr blinked again and her tail gave a single twitch.

Jack shifted a little. Even such enchanted creatures as Sentinels apparently got sore buttocks if they sat too long in one place. “Remember what I said to you that night, Faraday, before you ran away? The trees show what will be, but they do not always show it all, or they show it in such incoherent images that it is impossible to sort them out. Beware you do not misinterpret what the trees showed you. Dear one, perhaps the images do not describe Axis’ death. But if Borneheld does indeed kill Axis, then Tencendor is doomed. My sweet child, Axis is the
only
one who can meet
Gorgrael. He must not be murdered before he can accomplish what he was born for.”

“No,” whispered Faraday, folding her arms tightly across her breasts, her body rocking backwards and forwards slightly. Not murdered.

Veremund looked about at the others and they nodded to him. He turned back to Faraday. “Child, we believe that you also have a part to play in the Prophecy; in fact, we believe you have two very important tasks to perform, without which Axis will not succeed. Your first task is to stop Borneheld from killing Axis before he reaches his full potential. We know what you and Axis feel for each other, but if you follow your hearts now it will only result in Axis’ death.”

“Why?” Faraday whispered, although in her heart she knew the answer.

“Because if you break your betrothal vows to Borneheld and turn to Axis instead, it will enrage Borneheld so much that he might tear Achar to pieces in search of Axis. Do not become the spark that ignites Axis’ funeral pyre.”

“But Jack said the trees showed me truth. What
will
be. What does it matter if—”

“Faraday,” Veremund’s voice was sharp. “Axis and Borneheld will battle it out one day. The vision clearly showed that. But it must be at Axis’ instigation and on Axis’ terms. We,
you
, cannot afford to push Borneheld into challenging Axis now. If you marry Borneheld you will be in a position to moderate his hatred of Axis. To stay his hand. To allow Axis to grow into the man he must become.”

“Faraday, listen to me,” Yr said softly. “You will save Axis and you will save Tencendor as Borneheld’s wife, not as Axis’. The
vision
showed you as Borneheld’s wife, not Axis’.”

“You told Axis this evening that in the needs of a nation one girl’s wants are a very small thing,” Veremund said. “Then you meant Achar. But in Tencendor’s needs, in the hopes of three races, your wants are but a tiny thing. Tencendor’s hopes rest on whose bed you choose.”
Veremund thought for a moment, then came up with the crucial argument. “Axis’ life depends on your becoming Borneheld’s wife.”

The weight of their arguments and the emotional strain was all too much. Faraday covered her face with her hands and started to sob. All she could think of was how it had felt when Axis had held her and kissed her.

Veremund cradled her gently, giving her what comfort he could. Faraday was so young, so innocent, and Veremund felt a twinge of guilt at how they were pushing the girl. Still, it had to be done. The Prophecy demanded it. The Sentinels were silent for a few minutes as Faraday wept, then, as the girl’s sobs began to ease, Yr leaned forward. “Dear one, you must marry him as soon as you can.”

“Oh no!” Faraday cried, her tear-streaked face horrified. “Please, give me time!”

Veremund’s arms tightened about her for a moment. “Dear one, we cannot know it all, but we can see some things. Axis rides for Smyrton, where he will not be detained for long, then he rides for Gorkenfort. Sweet one, it is vital that you get there before him, and that when he arrives you will be Borneheld’s wife. Gorkenfort will be the making or breaking of Axis. You must be there to restrain Borneheld. He will be triumphant that you have come to him, and it will make him feel very powerful. If he feels powerful, if he feels as though he has triumphed over Axis, he will not feel the need to challenge him. Gorkenfort is a crucial test for Axis, Faraday.”