CHAPTER SEVEN

Sakkuth, Isembaard

T he supply column?” Isaiah said.

“Already heading through the Salamaan Pass,” said Morfah. He tapped the map on the table about which Isaiah, Axis, and the five senior generals were standing. “There are already supplies of food positioned here, here, and here.” His finger stabbed down at locations in northern Isembaard between Sakkuth and Salamaan Pass, and then once at a point a third of the way through the pass. “And the supply train will encamp just before the pass widens into the plains leading to Adab. The army will move smoothly, Excellency, and shall not lack for food, equipment, or weapons.”

Axis stood to one side, still in a quandary about Maximilian and StarDrifter. He’d not had a chance to speak privately either to Isaiah or Ishbel, and could hardly say something in front of the generals. With luck, he might manage a word once the generals had left.

“Good,” said Isaiah. “And the settlers?”

“They are traveling in a convoy just behind the army column,” said Ezekiel. “They are well provisioned and tightly organized. No laggards among them. Several Rivers”—a River was a unit of ten thousand soldiers—“come behind.”

Axis set aside his quandary about Maximilian for the moment, thinking instead about the resettlement issue. It seemed extraordinary to him that Isaiah would want to weigh down the invasion column with women and children and great-aunts, plus their belongings and livestock, but Isaiah was insistent. The Outlands were to be colonized with native Isembaardians as rapidly as possible.

Axis wondered how the settlers felt about this—ordered from their homelands into the unknown—but from all the reports he’d heard they appeared resigned. He remembered what the country had been like in the northwest when he’d ridden to meet Ishbel, and thought that perhaps they might even be a little glad to leave a land of arid and poor soil.

“This is a huge column,” Axis said, keeping his thoughts about the settlers to himself. “You are not concerned that its existence, lurking just inside the northern entrance to the Salamaan Pass, will not be reported to the Outlanders?”

“No one is being allowed through the pass to discover the column,” said Morfah. “We keep the pass so tightly closed that few people ever attempt its passage in any case, and the few stray peddlers who try are either turned back or, if too persistent, otherwise stopped.”

Axis grimaced at the “otherwise stopped,” but said nothing.

“No one will realize until it is too late,” said Ezekiel.

“Besides,” said Isaiah, “the latest intelligence puts the majority of the Outlands’ armed forces up here.”

He pointed to an area halfway between Pelemere and Hosea. “No one in their command will realize until too late just what it is comes up the Salamaan Pass.”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “It is late, and I am tired. I thank you,” he said to the generals, “for these reports. All goes well. By tomorrow—”

He turned as the door opened, then smiled as Ishbel walked in.

In contrast to the men, all of whom looked weary, she looked refreshed and lovely, her hair left in a long loose plait over one shoulder, wound about with a thin bejeweled gold wire, and wearing a simple white linen robe that accentuated her figure and coloring.

Axis froze. His reaction was not at Ishbel’s entrance as such, but at what he’d felt from the shadows in the back of the room at her entrance.

Everything Ishbel had told him about Maximilian suddenly roared to the forefront of his mind.

Stars…

Ishbel went directly to Isaiah, who laid a hand on her shoulder, and pulled her close for a slow kiss.

The generals all looked on impassively.

Axis watched Isaiah and Ishbel, then, so briefly most would have missed it, glanced toward the shadows at the rear of the large chamber.

“Well,” said Isaiah, still smiling down at Ishbel’s face, “tomorrow is another day and, right now, I would rather think about the rest of this night.”

Axis suppressed a wince.

Taking the hint, the generals murmured their good-nights, and left.

“I’m sure,” said Isaiah, as the door closed behind the departing men, “that you also need your rest, Axis.”

“Isaiah—” said Axis, then got no further.

“Ishbel,” said a voice, “what have you done?”

Axis looked to the back of the chamber as Isaiah and Ishbel spun about, Isaiah pushing Ishbel a little way behind him.

A man and a woman had stepped forth from the shadows.

The man, tall, dark, and with a face marked by pain and tragedy, registered briefly in Axis’

mind—Maximilian of Escator, it could be no other—but his attention was almost immediately and completely caught by the woman.

For a single heart-stopping moment he thought it was Azhure, then realized that she was far younger and, while as tall as Azhure had been, slighter. She shared Azhure’s long and almost blue-black hair, but her face was finer, and her eyes…they were the most extraordinary eyes Axis had ever seen. Pale gray, the irises ringed with black, they were startlingly beautiful.

Then Ishbel gave a cry, and Axis looked at her directly.

He’d never seen such a look of utter devastation, such all-consuming guilt, on anyone’s face as he saw now on Ishbel’s.

It was, she thought, the most terrible moment she could ever possibly suffer. She’d thought that Maximilian would have gone home to Escator, and stayed there. She’d thought him to have forgotten her.

But no, he’d come all this way—a hard, terrible journey, if his appearance was any indication—and she did not know how she could possibly tell him about their child, or explain Isaiah.

Isaiah had grabbed a sword from the table, but Ishbel reached out one shaky hand and waved him away.

“No,” she said, “not that.”

Isaiah let the sword droop, but did not step away from Ishbel’s side.

“That was a poor way to announce yourself, Maximilian Persimius,” Isaiah said, softly.

Maximilian ignored him. He stepped forward, walked toward Ishbel, stopping two or three paces from her. “Ishbel?”

She realized that he was as shocked as she, she could see it in his eyes.

Along with such astounding pain that each successive breath she took became harder and harder.

I have caused that pain, she thought. Oh, gods, what can I do?

Ishbel became aware that everyone in the room was incredibly tense, and that no one knew what to do or say.

“I would like,” she said, holding Maximilian’s eyes and speaking with as much dignity as she could, “to speak with Maxel alone.”

“The baby is dead, isn’t it?” said the woman, who, to this point, had hardly even registered on Ishbel’s consciousness. “The baby is dead and you have fallen gratefully into the bed of a man who seeks to invade your homeland. Maxel, you are well rid of this woman. I think we ought to—”

“Be quiet, you fool!” Isaiah snapped at the woman.

“Dead?” Maximilian said at the same time, and Ishbel’s eyes filled with tears. She did not know how she could keep standing. She wished everyone would just go so that she could speak to Maximilian.

She wished…oh, she wished that everything had been different.

“Will she be safe with you, Maximilian Persimius?” Isaiah said, and Ishbel saw Maximilian look at him.

Something altered in Maximilian’s face, even more shock, if that were possible, piled atop everything else he must be feeling.

Recognition.

“What have you done?” Maximilian whispered, still staring at Isaiah.

“Nothing but prepare the way for the Lord of Elcho Falling,” Isaiah said, and then Maximilian stepped forward and hit him.

Axis’ first thought was to wonder if it were some northern trait, this ritual of face-striking on first acquaintance.

His second was one of astonishment at Maximilian’s strength, for the power of his blow sent Isaiah—a big man—sprawling back several paces.

Axis grabbed at Maximilian, pulling him back, although it was apparent that Maximilian had no intention of continuing the assault.

“Let me go,” Maximilian said, and Axis did so. The dark-haired woman was by his side now, taking his arm.

“You are Axis,” she said. “My name is Ravenna.”

Axis’ sense of disorientation deepened. Social introductions? Now?

Isaiah slowly rose to his feet, one hand rubbing at his jaw, his eyes wary.

“Will everyone please leave Maximilian and me alone,” Ishbel said. Her voice was strained, her entire body stiff, and Axis noticed that she held her head slightly to one side so that she did not have to look anyone in the eye.

“I will not leave you with—” Isaiah began, but Axis interrupted.

“Isaiah, out, now. Maximilian will not hurt Ishbel. Ravenna, come with me.”

Within a moment, Ishbel and Maximilian were left alone as Axis hustled the other two out the door.