CHAPTER TWO

Salamaan Pass, Northern Kingdoms

A xis had led some massive armies in his time, but nothing like what Isaiah now commanded, nor had he ever managed to trail behind such an army with half of their wives and children and great-aunts, not to mention livestock and worldly goods. He would not have liked to lead this number of people (almost a million, by the stars! ) and he most certainly would not have liked to be responsible for its organization.

Isaiah, however, managed it without apparent effort, or concern, or a single worry line down the center of his tanned forehead.

The running, organization, and movement of this unbelievable column of people certainly kept his generals busy, and it most definitely kept Axis running from the time he rose in the morning until that blessed hour when he could hit his sleeping roll late at night. Isaiah had ordered the march forward three days after Maximilian and his party had arrived in Sakkuth. Getting the army (and its innumerable followers) on the move had been like trying to waken a vast, grudging, sleepy monster—but once wakened, it was seemingly impossible to stop. Axis was not sure that the entire column ever did halt. There always seemed to be some part of it snaking forward. Ten thousand may stop here for a meal and a rest, but somewhere else ten thousand rose from their sleeping rolls, and stretched, then picked up their packs and weapons and trudged forward yet once more.

Isaiah traveled in a relatively small convoy of commanders. He lived as one of the soldiers, and moved his convoy between others within the greater column. Isaiah’s convoy was Axis’ “home” within the vast mass marching forward, but he tended to see Isaiah only once every two or three days as Isaiah constantly had him traveling between different sections, probing, delivering orders, chatting to commanders, receiving reports, laughing, shouting, and sometimes sitting down for a few minutes with his harp, entertaining men grouped about fires with songs and tales from the myth and reality of Tencendor.

Axis spoke with generals and foot soldiers alike, and covered leagues of territory every day as he moved about his appointed tasks.

Each day was hectic and tiring beyond belief, but Axis loved it. He gained a sense of the army, of its structure, its abilities, its heart and soul, which would otherwise have been virtually impossible.

Nonetheless, it surprised him when, a few days after they’d entered the Salamaan Pass, and about ten after they’d left Sakkuth, a group of men in a section he passed on his horse called out to him, and cheered him as he went, as if he were their chief instead of Isaiah.

His father, StarDrifter, and Maximilian and the others of their party, traveled in their own convoy, which kept to its strictly appointed place in the overall army. They were not guarded as such, but Axis was aware that Isaiah had set men to watching them.

Maximilian had mostly kept to himself since he’d arrived in Sakkuth. He had spoken with Isaiah on several occasions that Axis knew about, but Axis did not think he’d seen Ishbel. StarDrifter had told Axis that Maximilian spent a great deal of time alone, that he appeared preoccupied with something, whether Ishbel or some other worry, and that only Ravenna had any real contact with him.

Axis knew that Ishbel and Isaiah now spent their time apart. Ishbel traveled with Isaiah’s convoy, but Isaiah had made a great show of saying that he now slept on the ground with his troops rather than in a softer bed. Axis interpreted that as meaning Ishbel did not want him near her.

Unhappiness prevailed, and Axis wished that Isaiah, Ishbel, and Maximilian could sort out the mess among them. He was, to be frank, surprised that Maximilian remained with Isaiah’s column, but supposed that traveling with this massive convoy, which was, after all, heading directly north, was the most direct route home for Maximilian. He would hardly want to scramble his independent way back through the mountains with little food and support.

It must, nonetheless, be galling for him to travel with the invader.

There was something going on that Axis did not understand, and he found that unbelievably frustrating.

On this day, a half hour or more after Axis had been surprised by the cheer that went up for him from some of Isaiah’s soldiers as he’d ridden past, he saw StarDrifter and Maximilian riding up ahead. His father’s wings, as Salome’s, had emerged about a week ago, accompanied by much moaning and groaning (according to Salome, who swore it wasn’t anywhere near as painful as childbirth and she didn’t know what StarDrifter was complaining about) from StarDrifter and a few choice swear words that had surprised even Salome.

While their wings had now emerged completely from their backs, they were yet to fully fledge and muscle, so thus far neither could fly. Both of them grew similar wings—once fully feathered, they would be a silvery white, their feathers tipped with gold.

Airborne, both would be spectacular.

Axis knew that Zeboath had examined StarDrifter and Salome on several occasions, fascinated by their wings. StarDrifter and Salome were apparently philosophical about Zeboath’s interest, and Axis thought it indicative of Zeboath’s tact that he’d managed more than one examination.

Publicly, Salome was less enthusiastic about her wings and the possibility of flight, but Axis thought she was growing not only more curious about her wings, but also hid a growing eagerness to try them out.

Sometimes, when she thought no one was watching her, Axis would catch her looking skyward, wondering…

Salome was good for his father, he decided. StarDrifter had loved Axis’ own mother, Rivkah, deeply, but she had been an Acharite, a human, and she’d not been able to hold his interest as she aged. She’d also been too nice, too good, much as Zenith—Axis’ own daughter—had been. StarDrifter had an arrogant bad streak in him that could light up a moonless night as if it were day, and Salome, just as arrogant, just as bad, was his perfect match. They were rarely publicly affectionate toward each other, but Axis sensed a deep bonding between them that had never been present between StarDrifter and his mother, and certainly not between StarDrifter and Zenith.

Watching his father ride, Axis could see him stretching and flexing each wing, one at a time, and knew it would not be long before StarDrifter would be able to take to the thermals.

Axis grinned. He’d hardly seen his father for more than a chance to exchange a few hasty words since leaving Sakkuth, and, while he still had a thousand things he needed to do today, he could spare a half hour for a chat.

He rode up behind them quietly, his approach masked by the sound of a thousand horsemen nearby.

StarDrifter and Maximilian were riding along easily, both men relaxed, Maximilian actually smiling a little, their horses at a loose-limbed trot.

It gave Axis heart to think that Maximilian could smile. It changed his face completely, all the darkness sloughing off to reveal charm and charisma.

Axis suddenly spurred his horse forward, pushing in between the mounts of both men and making their horses shy a little in surprise.

“Axis!” StarDrifter exclaimed, reining in his horse and pulling it close enough to that of his son’s to give Axis a welcoming slap on the shoulder.

Maximilian smiled as well, looking genuinely pleased to see Axis.

“Such guilty expressions!” Axis said, still grinning. “What were you two planning? Tell me, that I might report it to Isaiah.”

“We were talking about my wings,” said StarDrifter. “About how splendid they are.” He stretched both of them in a luxurious manner, the sun catching the glints of gold at the point of each emerging feather.

“And I was just remarking to your father,” said Maximilian, “that he shall be fully splendid by the time he stands before his people as Talon.”

“Talon?” Axis said.

“You didn’t know?” said Maximilian. “BroadWing pressed StarDrifter to accept the throne of Talon.

StarDrifter was reluctant, but finally accepted.”

“Axis,” StarDrifter said, looking a little unsure. “I know that you—”

But Axis was smiling, and he kneed his horse close enough to that of his father’s that he could briefly embrace him. “This is the happiest news, StarDrifter! You have been a long time coming to the Talon’s throne, but I think it was always, always yours.”

“You don’t want it?” StarDrifter said.

“Me?” Axis said. “No! It was never mine.” He sobered a little. “This is the happiest news, StarDrifter.

Until this moment I had doubted the Icarii could rise again. Now I know they can.”

Again he kneed his horse close to StarDrifter’s, and, controlling his horse only with his knees and balance, reached out and grasped his father’s left hand in both of his.

“StarDrifter SunSoar,” Axis said, “as my father you have my heart and my love, but as my liege lord you have not only my heart and my love, but my hands and my loyalty and whatever power may be mine to command. I am yours, Talon, heart and soul and mind. Command me as you will.”

Then he kissed his father’s hand, and laid it very briefly on the top of his head.

“Axis…” StarDrifter had tears in his eyes, and he had to blink them back before he could continue. Axis had done so much in his life that was noteworthy, but StarDrifter wondered if he had ever said or done anything that had affected him as deeply as this heartfelt pledge of love and loyalty.

Their hands clasped again, just for a moment, but with a fierce intensity.

“Soon you must begin to garner your nation to you,” said Axis. “The Icarii are scattered. You must find them a home.”

“Ah, and I thought you were here to cheer me,” StarDrifter said. “But as soon as you have flattered me with attention, you hand me the task impossible. Find the Icarii a homeland, indeed.”

“The world is being torn apart,” said Maximilian. “I have no doubt that you can find five or six thousand Icarii a home somewhere among the tatters.”

“It must be difficult for you,” said Axis, “seeing how every day this force grinds its way toward your homelands.”

Maximilian shot him an unfathomable look as his only answer.

“We were curious, Axis,” StarDrifter said, “to know what your relationship with Isaiah is. Tell us of him, and what you do riding with…this.” He, in his turn, waved about. “Frankly, I would not have thought you so willing to ride with such an invasion.”

Axis ignored the last comment. “Isaiah was the one to bring me back from the Otherworld,” he said. “He has reserves of power that he rarely, almost never, shows to any other. That intrigues me. Fascinates me.”

“What do you mean?” StarDrifter said.

“Isaiah is using his face as tyrant as a disguise,” Axis said. “He hides tremendous power beneath it. Why need so powerful a disguise? What is he hiding? I would be fearful of it, save that I like Isaiah.

Immensely. And I respect him as I respect few people.”

Axis gave a short laugh. “We have our disagreements, and snipe at each other, but I would trust him with my life, and he would trust me likewise, I think.”

“Sometimes trust can be entirely misplaced,” Maximilian said.

On that same day, Salome—bored witless by the never-ending travel, and irritated with StarDrifter for leaving her to go and bond with Maximilian—made the effort to escape the wagon in which she traveled with Ravenna and Venetia to find Ishbel.

On the face of it, the task was a nightmare. Ishbel traveled in Isaiah’s group, and on any given day that might be at any given spot within the convoy.

In the end, Salome had simply commandeered a horse, ridden up to the less than subtle military escort that accompanied them at all times, and asked two of the men to take her to Ishbel.

“After all,” she said, “you must know in which direction your master’s party lies, as you must report to him daily. Yes?”

The men looked at each other.

“I am not about to slaughter her,” said Salome. “You may search me for a weapon, if you wish…and as thoroughly as you wish.”

They did, to Salome’s complete amusement. They took her to one side, one man holding up a blanket for some privacy while the other searched her as thoroughly as Salome had invited.

At the end of the search, having rearranged her clothes, Salome dealt the man a stinging slap across the cheek. “You have heard of me, no doubt,” she said. “The vile, murdering Duchess of Sidon? Yes? Then, believe me, should I ever hear of sniggering tales regarding this incident being passed about fires at night, you and he”—she inclined her head at the other man, now folding up the blanket—“shall be dead by nightfall of the following day. Not even Isaiah can save you. You understand? Yes? Good, then help me to my horse, and let us be on our way. And be careful of that wing, it is still tender.”

Ishbel was traveling as alone as anyone might in this vast mass of people and horses. She rode her horse to one side of Isaiah’s personal party of wagons and riders, isolated and introspective. Isaiah was busy elsewhere, and although he spent time with her each day, Ishbel often felt as if she were traveling by herself. She did not feel the same isolation as she had when leaving Serpent’s Nest to marry Maximilian, but it was a similar sensation, and kept her wreathed in sadness for most of the time. Ishbel simply did not know where she belonged, or what would happen to her life. She could not for a moment imagine returning to Serpent’s Nest, there to resume her duties as archpriestess of the Coil. Too much had happened, too many corners had been turned, too many doors had been opened.

“Ishbel Brunelle? Queen of Escator, lover of tyrants?”

Ishbel jerked out of her reverie, heart thumping. A birdwoman had just ridden to her side, her lovely face wreathed in smiles, her eyes in calculation, and her wings tucked in awkwardly behind her back and trailing partway down her horse’s flanks. Ishbel could see they were thin, as yet unmuscled, and she knew who this woman must be.

Salome, Axis’ father’s exotic and somewhat infamous wife.

Ishbel didn’t like birdwomen. They reminded her too much of StarWeb, Maximilian’s former lover.

Salome was obviously also a very good horsewoman, and that put Ishbel at further disadvantage.

“Ah,” said Salome, her smile undimmed, “you are not happy to see me. Well, at that I am not surprised. I have yet to meet a woman who was happy to see me. But no matter. Here it is, such a lovely day, and I am bored, and thought to make your acquaintance.” She indicated the saddlebags. “On my way to you I collected some bread and cheese and dried fruits and some rather strong ale. Shall we find somewhere nice to lunch?”

“Look…Salome, isn’t it? It is a nice invitation, and I thank you for it, but—”

“I can tell you all about Ravenna.”

It wasn’t so much what she said as how she said it that told Ishbel that Salome didn’t want to exchange pleasant gossip, but potentially useful information.

“Why?” said Ishbel.

“Because I don’t like her very much,” said Salome. “Too righteous by half.”

Ishbel’s mouth twitched. She knew that Salome was likely saying only what Ishbel wanted to hear, but for the moment that didn’t matter. Ishbel would have given her right arm rather than be forced to spend an afternoon picnicking with StarWeb, but suddenly the idea of sitting in the winter sunshine with Salome, listening to (hopefully) some sharp-tongued gossip, sounded appealing.

Salome grinned, seeing the decision on Ishbel’s face. “I have two guards trailing me,” Salome said. “I don’t like them. Can you get rid of them?”

Ishbel looked to where the two men rode some four or five paces back. She gave a single jerk of her head, and they instantly peeled off and vanished within the general convoy.

“Sleeping with the tyrant has its advantages,” said Ishbel.

“I knew I was going to like you!” said Salome.

Axis was just about to pull his horse away from those of Maximilian and StarDrifter when Isaiah rode up.

Isaiah looked between the three of them, then he nodded at a peak about an hour’s ride away.

“There is something I want the three of you to see,” he said. “Will you come with me?”

Salome and Ishbel found a spot on a rise along the eastern face of the pass where they were certain to get several hours of afternoon sun, hobbled their horses, and found themselves a comfortable spot among the rocks. Before them the wide pass spread for miles in either direction, its pink and sandstone walls rearing thousands of feet into the sky. The larger portion of the relatively flat floor of the pass was filled, in every direction, with slow-moving humanity and horseflesh. Wagons and siege engines trundled northward; cattle, sheep, and goats were herded in pools of red and cream and mottled gray through the river of soldiers; loose horses followed their ridden companions obediently. Salome set out the bread and fruit and cheese, and they shared a flask of ale.

For a while nothing was said. They sat companionably, eating, watching Isaiah’s invasion army creep inexorably onward.

“You’re having a baby,” said Ishbel eventually.

“And I have heard that you lost yours,” said Salome. “You can have this one, if you wish.”

Ishbel thought about how she should react to that, then she saw Salome’s eyes twinkle, and she thought how bizarre, yet how refreshing, it was to have someone actually make a small jest about what had been such a tragedy, and which had tarnished two lives so badly.

“Thank you,” said Ishbel, “but I don’t think that it would look very much like Maximilian. He might have his doubts.”

Salome laughed. “And I don’t think StarDrifter would ever let this baby out of his sight.”

And neither would you, thought Ishbel.

“Is Ravenna sleeping with Maximilian?” she said.

“Yes,” said Salome. “She has had her cap set for him, so far as I could tell, ever since she joined up with his party at Narbon. He resisted all through the FarReach Mountains, but I believe she managed to get her claws into him the night—”

“—the night he and she came to Isaiah’s palace at Sakkuth, and discovered my sins. I see. Tell me, what is Ravenna?”

“What is she? A marsh woman. Apparently they tread the borderlands between this world and the world of dreams.” Salome paused. “Not very impressive. Maximilian could surely have done better for his comfort.”

Ishbel brushed some tears from her eyes. It hurt very badly that Maximilian was sleeping with Ravenna.

“Her mother is traveling with Maximilian as well,” said Salome, handing the flask of ale over to Ishbel.

“Venetia. I like Venetia and I think you would, too. I think she must have chosen badly for the father of her daughter.”

“Why are you telling me all this? Why be so kind to me? What do you hope to gain?”

Salome laughed. “Because I like the sound of you! What gumption! What talent!”

Ishbel narrowed her eyes at Salome, as if she thought the woman was crazed.

“A woman whose arts include the ability to cleanly disembowel a man with one cut? Ishbel! I want to know how to do that!”

Ishbel smiled, unable to believe that she still could.

“And then to bed the Tyrant of Isembaard,” Salome continued, “and have him set aside all eighty-six, or whatever the number is, wives for you. Meanwhile, your husband, yet another king, has abandoned both kingdom and people to embark on a foolhardy rescue mission. My dear, your skills are amazing.”

Ishbel now gave a small laugh. “Oh, Salome, everyone else judges me.”

“Ah, but I am a very bad woman,” said Salome, winking. “We have a special affinity, you and I.”

They sat there, grinning at each other, not trusting the other one a single inch, and suddenly a firm friendship was formed.

“Allies?” said Salome, who recognized the moment before Ishbel did. She held out her hand.

“Allies,” said Ishbel, taking it. “I have never had a female friend before.”

Salome laughed. “Neither have I. Oh, look, who is this approaching? Can it be…?”

Ishbel looked up. Isaiah was riding toward them, Axis and Maximilian directly behind.

She felt cold, and looked away from Maximilian.

Isaiah drew his horse up when he got close to the women. “Will you mount your horses,” he said, “and follow me?”

Then he pushed his horse forward, directly up the sloping walls of the pass.