CHAPTER NINE

The Palace of Aqhat, Isembaard

A xis stamped his feet as he drew off his riding gloves, trying to get some circulation back into his lower legs after a long ride home. He was standing in the large courtyard that served the main stable area of the palace, and about him men and horses milled in the lamplight as almost three hundred soldiers tried to dismount and get their horses unsaddled at once.

“Axis?” It was Insharah, who had again served as his second-in-command on this expedition. Axis was growing to like and respect him very much, and had enjoyed his week away with the man and the four hundred strong column of spearmen and swordsmen.

Had enjoyed a week away in the saddle again, fighting.

“Insharah. Time to get home to your wife, eh? We were away a little longer than anticipated and she will be anxious. It is too late at night now to hang about here. Go home.”

Insharah grinned at him. “If I go home now she will berate me for waking her. Some of the men propose a game of Kus, and a barrel of barley wine. Join us?”

Axis grinned. “I must be getting old, my friend, for all I want at the moment is my bed. I’ll check with you tomorrow. Make sure those men who are injured receive proper care from the physicians.”

Insharah nodded, and walked off. Axis turned and headed for the archway that led through to the palace proper, lost in thought. The expedition had been good for him. There had been real fighting—the bandits who had been harrying the villages to the east belonged to a group almost one hundred and fifty strong, and they’d built themselves a good base in nearby mountains. There had been two days of hard fighting, several men lost, many injured, but Axis’ sword had been bloodied, and his battle lust fully ignited.

Coming back to Aqhat had caused him some gut-draining disappointment.

He wondered what Isaiah was preparing him for. Would Isaiah want to give him a large command for the invasion? And what would Axis do if this was the case? Bandits were one thing, but the last thing Axis really wanted to do was lead fighting men against the armies of the Northern Kingdoms, with whom he had no quarrel.

“Perhaps I could divert to one side,” he muttered to himself, “and skewer me some Skraelings. I wonder if Isaiah would notice.”

“That would be an interesting maneuver,” said a dry voice, and Axis jumped, then instantly felt annoyed for allowing himself to be caught unawares.

No soldier should ever relax.

Ezekiel, the eldest and most senior of Isaiah’s generals, peeled himself off a shadowy wall and walked into a faint pool of light cast by the moon.

“And I am quite sure Isaiah would both notice and disapprove,” the general said, coming to a halt a pace or two away from Axis.

“Then I shall have to be careful to learn your skill at shadowy movement,” said Axis, even more annoyed at himself for the sharp tone in his voice.

Now Ezekiel knows for certain he caught you off-guard.

This was the first time Axis had ever talked alone with Ezekiel, and he studied the general with undisguised frankness. What reason had the man for seeking him out?

“May I ask how your expedition went?” said Ezekiel. “Most of the men you led were once commanded by me. I have…how shall we say this, a—”

Proprietary, thought Axis.

“—fatherly interest in them.”

“We rode to the village of Mentara,” Axis said. “You know it?”

“I was born there.”

Axis felt as though he was walking over needles of glass laid down on a bed of hot coals.

“Bandits, well over a hundred strong,” Axis said, “had established a base in the mountains nearby, and were harrying villages along the road from Mentara to the Lhyl. We had to draw them out of their stronghold, then double back and clean out their camp. They were good fighters. It is a shame they didn’t want to join Isaiah’s army.”

“Isaiah loses many of his men to the lure of the mountain encampments,” Ezekiel said, and continued talking before Axis, patently curious, asked why. “Axis, let me walk you to your quarters. There is something I’d like to ask of you.”

Axis wondered if he were about to be offered a place within a cabal plotting against Isaiah, and wondered further how long he would live if he declined it.

They walked into the center of the courtyard, talking generalities, before Axis asked what was on his mind.

“Isaiah has called a Spectacle in three days time,” Ezekiel said, coming to a halt and forcing Axis to do the same. “You know what that is?”

Axis frowned. Ezekiel had drawn him into the very center of the courtyard, which the windows of Isaiah’s private quarters gazed upon. Their conversation might not be heard, but the odds that Isaiah would see them standing here talking quietly, or have someone report to him that Ezekiel and Axis had been plotting away at midnight, were astronomical.

Axis put his hands on his hips. “Yes. I know what it is. What do you want, Ezekiel?”

“I want to know what he is up to, Axis.”

“For the stars’ sakes, Ezekiel, I have been away this past week. I have no idea.”

“I have heard rumor it is to marry Ishbel. Or at least to announce the fact of their marriage.”

“Isaiah is always taking new wives,” Axis said, although the news disturbed him. He wondered what Ishbel thought about it, and wondered also that Isaiah had apparently managed to set aside his famous dislike of pregnant women.

“The palace chamberlain told me,” Ezekiel said, “that Isaiah took Ishbel deep into DarkGlass Mountain last week, while you were away, and there they married amid powerful dark magic. Is this possible?”

Axis just stared, unable for the moment to process all this information.

“Ah…” he said, stalling for time. What was Isaiah up to? Was this why Axis had been sent away for a week? So Isaiah could play?

Ezekiel was watching Axis very carefully. “How powerful is Ishbel’s husband, Maximilian?”

“Well, that I can answer readily enough,” Axis said. “Maximilian is a very quiet man, one who keeps many secrets. He is charismatic and resourceful and has survived what kills most men. You have heard his story?”

Ezekiel shook his head.

Axis briefly told the general of Maximilian’s seventeen years trapped beneath the hanging wall, and of his rescue.

“He does not control great wealth, nor great armies,” Axis concluded, “but—”

“He is a dangerous man.”

“He is a man to be watched, yes.”

Ezekiel chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “So if Isaiah had truly won his bride from Maximilian, then Isaiah is stronger than many believe,” he said eventually. “But if Maximilian regains her, well then…”

Axis shrugged his shoulders. “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” he said. “I am tired, and long for my bed.”

Ezekiel’s eyes gleamed. “The only reason I wanted to talk to you, Axis,” he said, “was to get your measure.”

And with that he turned on his heel, and was off.

Axis looked after him for a long moment, then glanced upward to Isaiah’s windows.

The tyrant was standing there, looking down.

Axis thought for a moment about going to see him, but then decided he was too tired, so he, in turn, spun on his heel and strode for the stairway to his apartment.

Isaiah would have to wait.