Battleaxe (17 page)

F
ew of the Axe-Wielders were aware of what was happening behind their backs, and Faraday, her mother and Timozel had completely missed it.

The first riders were now approaching the Barrows, but the storm was rapidly gaining on them. Already Axis, Ogden and Veremund were encased in heavy rain, their horses finding it harder and harder to keep their footing in the slippery mud churned up by the Axe-Wielders’ mounts. The wind increased to gale force, screaming across the plains behind them, and Axis bent low over Belaguez’s neck to give the horse as much assistance as possible. Ogden clung on grimly behind him. Because of the double weight that Belaguez carried, Veremund’s donkey was able to keep pace. Ogden’s white donkey had disappeared in the pelting rain.

As Timozel and Faraday approached the Barrows, Merlion and her maid close behind, Timozel grabbed the bridle of Faraday’s horse and pulled it towards the shelter of one of the steep-walled Barrows. The rain was upon the Barrows now, streaming down from the sky in unnatural floods, driven by the brutal wind. Every rider was drenched to the skin whether they wore a heavy sealskin cloak or not. Men and horses scurried towards the most sheltered spots among the
Barrows, and the air filled with the sounds of men shouting, horses neighing and the increasing fury of the storm as it swept over them.

Faraday pulled her horse to a halt and frantically looked about her. “Timozel!” she cried. “My mother?”

“Faraday, get off your horse. We’ve got to find some shelter. Now!” Timozel shouted as he slid off his bay gelding and stumbled across to Faraday.

But Faraday tugged at the reins of her exhausted horse, trying to kick it into the turmoil about her. “Mother?” she shouted, desperately searching. “Mother!”

Timozel reached up blindly, his eyes closed against the beating rain, fumbled for a moment with Faraday’s soaked cloak, then seized her waist and hauled her unceremoniously off the horse.

“Timozel!” Faraday wailed, trying to twist out of his hands but overbalancing and falling to her knees in the mud. Her horse swerved back into the confusion of men and horses about them, causing Yr to leap from its back, feet and claws extended, wet fur standing in spikes all over her body. She landed squarely on the back of Timozel’s head and neck.

“Ug!” grunted Timozel, collapsing on top of Faraday and pushing them both down into the ground.

Yr’s leap undoubtedly saved all three of their lives. Just as Timozel collapsed on top of Faraday a great sheet of what appeared to be lightning speared through the sky, striking Faraday’s horse as it turned to bolt into the storm.

Timozel rolled off Faraday and squinted through the rain. The horse lay completely still not four paces from them, its head shattered by a massive spear of thick ice. As Timozel gaped, unable to believe what he was seeing, more ice spears rained with vicious purpose from the sky; those men and horses still in the flat open spaces between the Barrows took the full impact of the dreadful deluge.

Timozel grabbed Faraday by the shoulders, pulling her half out of the mud. “Faraday! We’ve got to get out of here! Move!” He hauled her to her feet, Faraday having just enough time to grab Yr out of the
mud as Timozel pulled her, hunched over as far as they could go, towards the lee of a Barrow about thirty paces distant. Dreadful screams of those transfixed by the ice spears rang out about them.

They had taken about fifteen faltering paces, buffeted by men, horses and the wind and pelting rain, when the dying body of a headless horse struck Timozel squarely on the shoulder.

“No!” Timozel screamed, as he and Faraday were pushed to their knees in the mud again. Timozel tried to drag Faraday up, but she shrieked in complete horror and wrenched herself out of his hands before he could haul her to her feet.

Timozel saw Faraday’s shocked face, and followed her eyes down. Lying on the ground, so close that Faraday’s knees were touching the body, was the lifeless form of Merlion. A few paces away was the body of her maid, crushed under her horse. An ice spear had caught Lady Merlion in the back as she ran towards the Barrow, and now protruded in jagged red-tipped spikes from her belly and breast. The rain had washed most of the blood from her face and her lifeless eyes stared into the murderous heavens, the heavy raindrops making small indentations on the surface of her eyeballs before running like tears of sorrow down her pale cheeks.

Tearing his eyes away from the dreadful sight, Timozel groped for Faraday’s shoulders. Artor save them! he thought numbly, for surely nothing else would. His lips moved but no sound came. Faraday’s initial scream had weakened into a series of heart-rending wails, and now she dropped Yr, her hands patting ineffectually at Merlion’s body as if it was somehow possible to put her back together again.

“Faraday. Faraday,” Timozel mumbled feebly, “come, we’ve got to go.”

Faraday did not hear a word he said, and Timozel began to cry himself, overcome by the dead and dying about him, his tears mingling with the rain streaming down his face. This was not how he envisioned death, warriors should die nobly on the battlefield, fighting a flesh and blood foe—not this terror that rained down from a demonic sky. He closed his eyes and rested his face on Faraday’s shoulder, resigned to their imminent death.

“Now, now,” a soft burred voice said. “Time to move, young man. No use staying here in this weather. Come, lovely lady, take my hand.”

Timozel slowly lifted his head, twisting to look behind him. A roughly dressed peasant, long heavy staff in his hand, was leaning down and smiling into his eyes. He appeared totally unmoved by the carnage about him. He must be simple, thought Timozel vaguely. What was a peasant doing here in this nightmare?

I have died, Timozel decided. None of this can be happening. I have died and gone for my sins into the crazed pits of the AfterLife.

“No, no,” the man said, his smile widening for a moment. “‘Tis all happening, as true as the sun do rise every morning. Dreadful, dreadful, it is, that the Destroyer has reached this far. Too many of us here, there were, too enticing a target. Come, come, we must move. Don’t know what his next trick might be.”

Faraday’s wails abated a little at the sight of him. “Jack,” she whispered.

“Come, come,” Jack repeated, gripping her hand, and now Timozel could sense some strain in his voice. As he pulled Faraday to her feet, Jack seized Timozel’s arm and hauled him up as well. “Yr, you shall have to walk by yourself for a moment or two. If you stay close you should manage—the worst of the storm has passed.”

The cat slunk close to Faraday’s heels as Jack led them safely across the remaining ground to the side of the Barrow, stepping smoothly past the bodies of horses and men that littered their path. He kept up a soothing monologue about nothing in particular while they walked, calming both Faraday and Timozel. The ice spears had all but ceased and, while the wind and rain still beat at them, it now had the feel of a normal autumn gale rather than the supernatural force of a few minutes before. Jack stopped where several dozen men and one or two horses sheltered against the steepest part of the Barrow, and turned to Timozel.

“Young lord,” he said deferentially, “‘Tis better you wait here with your fellow Axe-Wielders. Wait for your BattleAxe. Wait for his orders. He will tell you what to do. I will take the lovely lady a little
further along the Barrow, where she can grieve for her mother in private. You can rest now…you have been true.”

He had such a soothing voice and for a moment his words made complete sense to Timozel. He nodded his head in agreement and Jack led Faraday away along the Barrow wall.

Timozel shut his eyes, rubbing his eyebrows with his hand, head bowed. “Faraday,” he muttered to himself. Surely he should stay with her, she was all alone now. He opened his eyes and lifted his head. Faraday and Jack, the white cat still with them, were almost to the very end of the Barrow. Where was he taking her? Fear and suspicion flared bright in Timozel’s mind and he turned to walk towards them, his feet strangely heavy and sluggish. Faraday—he had to save her. Something had to be saved from this dreadful day.

Jack stopped Faraday at the very end of the Barrow. “Dear one,” he said quietly to Faraday, one arm about her shoulders, his face close to hers. “Do you remember that you promised us to be true?”

Faraday nodded her head. She really didn’t care at the moment what she had promised to anyone.

“Dear one,” Jack repeated, knowing how deeply she had been wounded by the sight of her mother’s torn body. “In the slaughter and chaos of Gorgrael’s storm it might be possible for us to begin our journey to Borneheld here, at this moment. If you disappear among the Barrows, Axis will suppose you dead and not search for you. That would be best, dear one, that he supposes you dead for the while.”

Tears ran down Faraday’s cheeks. Jack stroked her cheek comfortingly, his fingers wiping away both tears and soft rain. “Do not worry, lovely lady. All will be well. But for the moment, Yr and I think it best that you leave. He is too distracted by you, and you will serve him better at Borneheld’s side.”

“I understand,” Faraday whispered.

“My dear,” Jack said softly. “Lay your hand upon my staff, it will keep you safe. Yr, my shoulders, if you please.”

The cat scrambled up his thick woollen cloak and crouched on his shoulder. “Hurry,” she hissed softly.

Jack took his heavy staff in his free hand, waited until Faraday had grasped it in both her hands, then raised it slightly and knocked it three times on a piece of flat grey rock by their feet. The sound rang through the ornate knob at the top of the staff.

“Sing well, fly high, StarFarers. By your leave, let us pass the chamber of death and grant us entry to your Halls. In the name of the One who will walk with you one day we seek your aid this day.” His eyes glowed emerald and his fingers whitened about the heavy staff.

Then everything seemed to happen at once.

Timozel clapped his hand on Jack’s free shoulder. “What are you doing?” he began, his voice brusque and demanding. Jack whipped his head around, his emerald eyes blazing, his entire face a mask of white-hot anger. Yr hissed and struck out at Timozel with her claws, her own eyes brilliant with anger.

There was a sound of rumbling thunder from their feet, then the earth beneath them opened up into a yawning chasm and the entire end of the Barrow began to collapse about them. Faraday saw the black hole suddenly yawn under her feet and screamed, frantically trying to leap backwards. She was too late and the next instant felt herself falling head over heels into a chasm. Then something struck her head and blackness claimed her.

Axis and the two Brothers entered the Barrows just as the storm was beginning to fade. They had not fared badly, the Icarii ward protecting all three of them from the full force of the storm.

Axis was appalled at the carnage that met his eyes as he rode between the Barrows. Although most had escaped to shelter beside the steep walls of the ancient earth-covered tombs, hundreds of bodies lay scattered about in the wide exposed spaces between the Barrows. Both horses and men had died gruesomely. Others lay writhing in pain in the mud, their bodies pinned to the ground by the piercing ice, their life blood draining away. Puddles of blood and water mingled on the sodden ground as the ice spears melted, the continuing light rain adding to the spreading pink puddles.

Ogden looked up at Axis. “It is the work of Gorgrael, BattleAxe. The ice is his mark.”

“What have I done?” whispered Axis, scarcely hearing Ogden. “What have I done to my men?” How could a storm wreak this much mayhem and death?

Veremund rode up, leading Ogden’s donkey. “You could have done nothing more than what you did, BattleAxe. How could men fight the storm with swords and axes? If they had not retreated to the Barrows, then more—hundreds more—would have died on the plain. Here, at least, most found shelter.”

His words did not comfort Axis. He should never have led his men out of the Barrows in the first place, but so wrapped was he in his thoughts of Faraday that…

Axis looked up, his eyes frantically searching among the bodies scattered across the ground. His heels dug into the stallion’s sides and Belaguez leaped forward.

Ogden and Veremund hurried after him, Ogden lifting his habit well clear of the bloodied mud as he leaped in ungainly bounds across the ground.

Axis had got to within fifty paces of the nearest Barrow when he saw Faraday, Timozel and a strange man standing huddled together in a group at its far end. He opened his mouth to call but just then the ground rumbled beneath Belaguez’s hooves, and the stallion stumbled and almost fell. His hands clutching at Belaguez’s mane, Axis’ eyes did not waver from the sight before him. He saw Faraday cry out and clutch at the air, her whole body weaving backwards and forwards. All three then toppled into the hole which opened at their feet. The entire side of the Barrow slid downwards and an immense shifting mass of mud, turf and boulders engulfed the spot where the three had disappeared. For as long as it took Axis to gallop Belaguez across to the site the landslide continued, then it rumbled grudgingly to an end as Axis slid off the stallion.

“No!” Axis screamed, tearing at the earth with his bare hands. “No!”

Ogden and Veremund reached him moments later. “It’s too late,” said Ogden, pulling Axis gently back from the mudslide. “They’re gone.”

Axis’ hands were torn and bloody. “No,” he whispered, his face ghostly pale.

Belial joined them, blood oozing from a deep wound in his shoulder. He waved Ogden and Veremund back with an abrupt movement of his hand, then squatted beside Axis and talked to him in a low voice, his eyes intense. After a moment Axis nodded curtly and stood up.

“I am going to ride north until I can face this Destroyer in battle,” he said, his voice harsh, his eyes hard and cold, “and then I will tear him to pieces for what he has done here today.”

F
araday awoke, her head throbbing, every muscle and joint in her body aching. Someone held a hand close over her face.

“Mphh,” she muttered, trying to brush away the irritating hand.

“I’m only wiping the dirt from your face. There. Can you open your eyes?”

With a great effort Faraday slowly opened her eyes. She blinked, trying to focus. Jack’s concerned face swam above hers and she blinked again. Gradually his face came into focus.

“I hurt, everywhere,” she muttered, trying to sit up.

“We came down more heavily than I had foreseen,” Jack said, his worried face easing a little as Faraday began to move. “I didn’t realise the Barrow would collapse so badly. Yr and I escaped the worst of it, but you and,” his face hardened, “that Axe-Wielder were hit by some loose stones.”

“Timozel!” Faraday sat up straight, too quickly for her aching head to adjust, and groaned, catching at her head with her hands.

“Quietly,” a woman’s soft voice said behind her, and Faraday felt cool and soothing hands run gently across her brow. “You
must not move so fast yet. Here, let me massage your head for a moment.”

The woman’s hands felt wonderful and for a few minutes Faraday sat, her eyes closed, letting the marvellous hands take away the worst of the throbbing.

“Thank you,” she whispered eventually, opening her eyes and turning to thank the woman who had relieved her head of so much of the pain. “That feels…” Faraday’s eyes widened in astonishment. Squatting behind her was a completely naked woman with long straight white-blonde hair hanging to her waist.

“Why, Lady Faraday, do you not know me? I am Yr, and this is my human form.”

Faraday’s eyes widened even further. “You can change?”

Yr laughed, a low and throaty sound, “It is hard for me, for any of us, to change, and we need a little assistance to do so. This place,” she waved her hand about, “still contains so much residual enchantment that the transformation was made easier for me.” She laughed again merrily and winked at Jack. “Jack did not always approve of the cat. He thought it…inappropriate.” She shrugged a little. “But a cat can go where no woman can, and can listen to conversations that any other man or woman would be killed for overhearing. I have stalked the corridors of Carlon for many years, sweet girl, and I have heard much.”

“Enough,” Jack said shortly. “Faraday, can you stand?”

Yr and Jack helped Faraday to her feet. Her head swam a little, then she looked about. They were standing at one end of a dimly lit rectangular stone chamber, perhaps forty paces by fifteen. In the centre of the chamber stood a table-shaped solid block of stone, as high as a man’s waist and pure white, almost gleaming in the poor light. Two copper lamps, one at either end of the chamber, glowed softly. Turning around Faraday saw that the wall behind them was half obscured by tumbled masonry and dirt.

“The landslide has blocked the passage down here completely, Faraday. No-one can follow,” Jack said softly. “As far as those above are concerned we are dead, entombed in the mud and the rocks.”

Faraday shivered. Axis thought she was dead. Well, it was for the best. She gasped suddenly as she saw Timozel’s motionless form stretched along the floor immediately behind her. She stepped over and bent down by him. “Timozel!”

Yr and Jack looked at each other. It would have been better if Timozel had died in the landslide, but he had been largely protected by the magical aura of the staff as they fell down the chasm. His presence was a complication that they did not need. Still, as Ogden and Veremund were bound, so were they. They could suggest and advise, and sometimes they could manipulate events if they served the Prophecy, but they could not go so far as to interfere with life itself.

Jack sighed and bent down by Timozel. “Faraday, move your hand. I can help him as I did you.”

Faraday watched as Jack moved his hand over Timozel’s face, a faint green light emanating from the tips of his fingers. Gradually the colour seeped back into Timozel’s cheeks and after a few minutes he shifted slightly and began to moan.

“Faraday,” Jack looked at her as she crouched on the other side of Timozel. “You must persuade him that Yr and I pose no threat. As you can see, the boy is fully armed with sword and axe and Yr and I are as vulnerable to steel as you or Axis. As Axis must not die, neither must we—for then all is lost.”

Faraday nodded, her green eyes grave, and leaned one restraining hand on Timozel’s chest.

Unlike Faraday, Timozel leapt from unconsciousness to full alertness. His eyes opened, both angry and indignant, and he lurched into a sitting position, brushing aside Faraday’s restraining hand, his knees bending to rise. His hand gripped his sword, half unsheathing it from its scabbard. Both Yr and Jack flinched involuntarily at the sound of the steel sliding free from its prison.

“No!” Faraday cried, trying to wrap her arms around him. “Timozel, it’s all right. We’re safe!”

Timozel sat rigid for a moment, his hand still clenched about the hilt of his sword.

“Faraday?” he said, puzzled, “What happened?” He turned to look at her, his eyes losing some of their aggression.

“Shush, it’s all right, Timozel.” Faraday ran her fingers soothingly through his brown curls.

“Where are we?” he asked, turning to look around him. “What happened?” His face tightened as he saw Jack and remembered him trying to abduct Faraday; then his cheeks stained red as he fully realised that the strange woman standing next to Jack was completely naked. Yr’s lips parted a little in a smile. She shook her hair back from her face and squared her shoulders slightly, leaning back against the stone block, her skin almost as white as the stone itself.

Timozel slid the sword back into its scabbard, his eyes still on Yr, and rose slowly to his feet.

“Yr.” Jack rebuked gently. “This is not the time nor the place.”

“But what can I do, Jack? I have no clothes,” said Yr.

Timozel continued to stare at Yr, his eyes wary. “Here,” he said finally, his face returning to its normal colour. “You can have my cloak.”

He slipped it from his shoulders and took a step towards Yr. Yr paused, teasing, then she languidly stretched forth a hand. “Ugh,” she said disapprovingly, “it’s wet.”

“Take it!” Jack snapped, irritated by Yr’s behaviour. He wished she had retained her cat form; she could be infinite trouble in her womanly guise.

Yr sighed and slipped the cloak about her shoulders. “It will no doubt dry quickly enough,” she said. “Thank you, Timozel.”

Timozel was more relaxed now that Yr’s nakedness was covered, and he sketched a courtly bow for her. “My lady,” he smiled.

Faraday placed a gentle hand on Timozel’s arm. “Tim, this is Jack and Yr. They are…” Faraday stopped, confused. What should she tell him? She looked at Jack for guidance.

Jack interrupted. “Timozel. Do you remember the Prophecy that you heard at the Silent Woman Keep?” Timozel nodded. “Well, Yr and I are two of the Sentinels mentioned within the Prophecy. We are part of the Prophecy, we are bound to it and serve it.”

Timozel’s eyes narrowed. The line of the Prophecy mentioning the Sentinels ran through his head, “The Sentinels will walk abroad”, then he remembered its darker companion. When the Prophecy had been simply an abstract riddle Timozel had found it amusing if puzzling; now that it was taking flesh and blood form before him he did not think he liked it as much. Like all Acharites, he had been taught from a child in arms that all magic or enchantments were evil and used only by the Forbidden in order to harm Artor-fearing Acharites and undermine their faith in the Way of the Plough. His unease grew. The Prophecy also mentioned the remade dead and dark powers. Were these magical creatures now a threat to Faraday and himself? Timozel’s hand crept a little closer to the hilt of his sword again.

“Timozel,” Yr said, her voice soft and reasonable. Her eyes had lost their challenging look and were now reassuring. “Jack and I, as are our comrades, devote our lives to preserving this land, and to finding and supporting the StarMan, the one who will be able to stop Gorgrael the Destroyer. We mean you and Faraday no harm.”

“Then why have you seized her?” Timozel demanded.

“They are taking me to Borneheld,” Faraday said, “because they believe that he will be better able to hold the ice creatures at Gorkenfort if I am at his side.”

“Is he the one who will save Achar?” asked Timozel.

“He will be vitally important in Achar’s defence,” said Jack. “He will need Faraday there to support him.”

Timozel stared at Faraday, trying to think. Her hair hung down about her shoulders in disarray and her eyes were anxious as they looked into his. No doubt she couldn’t wait to reach her betrothed husband. The more he thought about it, the more he believed it would be a good thing if Faraday joined Borneheld. But it would be so dangerous at Gorkenfort.

Timozel made up his mind. “Yes,” he nodded, “I can understand that Borneheld would need you by his side.” Faraday visibly relaxed. “But,” a frown crossed Timozel’s face, “I do not entirely trust your companions, either. What on earth made them cast us down here?”

“Timozel, you know Axis. He had orders to take me to Arcen and leave me there. Yet I wish for nothing else than to join Borneheld.” Artor forgive her for that lie, she thought. “And see how the Destroyer attacked the Axe-Wielders. It might have been dangerous for me to stay with them. Jack and Yr thought it best that we leave now.”

“Yes,” Timozel nodded his head slowly, then abruptly made up his mind. Artor must have pushed him to Faraday’s side like this for a reason—to protect her. Artor was giving Timozel the chance to prove what a great and honourable warrior he could be. He dropped down on one knee before her and seized both her hands between his own.

“Lady,” he said earnestly, “I pledge my life to your service.” Faraday gasped, and her eyes flew to the impassive Jack and Yr before returning to Timozel’s face. “Know that I will stand between you and harm, that I will guard both your body and your honour before any regard of my own safety, that I will champion your cause and seek only that you walk in light for the rest of your life. Artor witness this my holy vow; only my death or your wish will break it. Lady Faraday, will you accept my service?”

Faraday did not know what to do. Warriors had been known to bind themselves as Champions to a noble lady, but, as far as she knew, it had not occurred for many years. She looked across to Jack for guidance.

Jack nodded slightly. Perhaps Timozel could protect her against some of the trauma ahead. She would need a friend.

Yr wondered if Timozel might get in the way more than he could help, but she too inclined her head. As Faraday’s Champion, Timozel would prove a far more irresistible challenge for her.

Faraday took a deep breath and turned her eyes back to Timozel. She was touched by his offer and his genuine concern for her. She knew that the relationship between a lady and her Champion was never sexual; perhaps that was one of the reasons the nobles at court had discarded the ancient tradition as hopelessly idealistic and practically untenable. But Faraday also knew that a Champion was
more than simply a protector. He was a friend, a confidant, a pillar to lean on, a man who would always believe her, strive to understand her, and do his utmost to support her in any decision that she made. She nodded slowly. Perhaps life at Borneheld’s side would not prove so awful with Timozel there to turn to.

“I accept your offer of service, Timozel, and thank you from the depths of my heart. Let Artor witness that this bond shall hold until your death or my wish does break it. May Artor also guide both our steps in the future, and may He keep and hold us in the palm of His hand.”

Timozel smiled and kissed her hands softly, then he let them go and stood up. Now this strange pair would know that Faraday had a protector, he thought. If they tried to harm her then he would cut them down where they stood.

Timozel squared his shoulders. He felt taller, as if his new role as Faraday’s Champion had given him added stature along with the new meaning and direction of his life. He dismissed the thought of what his BattleAxe might say. It was more than time he started to shoulder some responsibility.

“Now,” he said in as authoritative a tone as he could manage. “Perhaps you could explain where we are, Jack.”