Battleaxe: Book One of the Axis Trilogy

Priam stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact, his features looking even more ravaged. “In the early hours of this morning I received intelligence from Gorkenfort. A message, flown down by carrier bird.” Priam glanced at Borneheld, who looked surprised. “Yes, I know Borneheld, normally you would have received such a message, but the contents were so,” Priam paused and his face visibly paled, “terrible, that it was addressed to me personally.”

Roland and Jorge exchanged glances. Terrible news received almost nine hours ago? Why had Priam waited this long to call them together?

“My friends,” and now everyone in the room felt dread pierce their heart, for Priam had never addressed them so before, “four nights ago both Gorkenfort and the Retreat in Gorkentown suffered devastating attacks from creatures such as no-one has ever seen before.”

Both Borneheld and Jayme leaned forward as Priam continued. “Lord Magariz was attacked personally in his quarters. He escaped but was severely wounded and several of his guards were torn to shreds.”

“But how?” Borneheld’s face was a mask of confused anger. “Gorkenfort is impregnable. How could anyone have attacked Magariz in his quarters with no alarm sounding?”

“There is worse,” Priam whispered, and Axis felt a finger of ice trace through his bowels.

“It appears that the attack on Magariz was only a blind for the real attack – a ruse to keep the garrison’s attention focused inwards. A much stronger force overran the Seneschal’s Retreat in Gorkentown.”

Jayme groaned and gripped the top of the table. If these creatures had penetrated into the heart of the highly defended Gorkenfort, then what they could have done in the brothers’ Retreat horrified him.

Priam looked at Jayme. “Brother-Leader, I am most sorry, but most of the brothers were slaughtered as they sought to flee. Only two escaped with their lives. The carnage was … terrible.” He fell silent for a moment.

“But that’s not all.” Priam’s voice dropped to a whisper and his face blanched to a sickly yellow. “It appears that these creatures had two specific purposes in attacking the Retreat. They completely destroyed all the books and records of the Retreat, although that was not their first or main target.” Jayme’s head sank down to rest on the table and his shoulders shuddered once, heavily. “First … first,” Priam’s voice almost broke, and he had to clear his throat; Jayme pushed himself back upright and stared at Priam. “First, they broke into the crypt of the Retreat and … stole … my … sister’s … body. They stole Rivkah’s body. Then they desecrated her tomb with their excrement and the blood and entrails of those brothers they had slaughtered.”

Apart from Priam and Borneheld, all eyes in the room swivelled towards Axis then, an instant later, swivelled away again. Rivkah had been buried in the crypt of the Retreat after she had died giving birth to Axis.

Jayme and Moryson exchanged shocked, silent glances as Priam spoke, but Jayme recovered himself enough to turn to Axis and lay a warm hand on his arm. “My son, I am so sorry,” he said quietly.

So closely was Axis associated with his mother that for a moment no one remembered that Rivkah was Borneheld’s mother as well.

They were quickly reminded. As soon as the words were out of Priam’s mouth Borneheld leapt to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. His hand automatically reached for his sword, until halfway there he remembered that he had left it in the antechamber.

“They stole my mother!” he screamed, his eyes wild, his hand still half-raised.

Axis felt as though Priam’s news had driven a sword through his soul. He was stunned, and for an instant was propelled back into that black nothingness where the demon who claimed to be his father tormented him. He stared sightlessly ahead, oblivious to Borneheld’s reaction, but after a moment he half turned his head towards Jayme and gropingly placed his own hand on top of the Brother-Leader’s where it rested on his arm. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

Borneheld, still with one hand raised, took a step towards his half-brother. “It’s all right?” he whispered incredulously, his face slowly turning dark red. “Is that how you react to the news that some demon-spawned fiends have stolen my mother’s body? Is that all you can say?”

He kicked his chair away from his feet and took a step towards Axis. “Is that all you can say when it was you who killed her and put her in that stone tomb?” he screamed, and lunged around the table past Jayme, grabbing Axis by the throat and driving him to the floor of the chamber.

As the others leapt to their feet Jorge and Gautier dragged Borneheld away while Nevelon held Axis back. Both men had taken punishment, although Axis, at a disadvantage of weight and muscle, came out of it slightly worse. He managed to regain control of himself though and shrugged off Nevelon’s restraining hands, dusting down his tunic coat and wiping some blood from his mouth with the back of one hand. He looked across at Borneheld who had blood streaming from a cut above his eye.

“At least Rivkah loved and respected my father enough not to betray him,” Axis said quietly, his eyes blazing fiercely as they locked with Borneheld’s. “Would that your father had received such love and respect from our mother.”

His quiet words sent Borneheld into a frenzy, and it was all that Jorge and Gautier could do to hold him back from attacking Axis a second time.

“By Artor!” snarled Roland, stepping between the two men, his massive flesh quivering with anger. “Is it not enough that we face this peril from the northern wastes? How can we face outside dangers when we tear ourselves to pieces within?” He turned to Borneheld and abruptly slapped him across the face, sending droplets of blood scattering across the floor. “Is this how a WarLord acts in the heat of battle? What will you do when your foes taunt you across the battlefield, if this is how you react in the King’s Privy Council?”

Roland stared at Borneheld until Borneheld dropped his eyes and ceased to struggle against Jorge and Gautier. Then, belying his bulk, Roland whipped around to face Axis. “BattleAxe!” he snapped, and Axis straightened up from the wall, his gaze challenging. “Such a taunt belongs in the women’s chamber, and if you have to resort to that level of remark among this company then perhaps that’s where you belong!”

Axis’ face hardened, but he held his tongue. Roland stepped back and glanced at both men. “Well. Enough. I would scarcely have expected this behaviour from such high commanders. If you lead men, both of you, then you will have to learn a little more self-control. Am I right?”

There was silence for a moment, then Priam stepped forward. “I think the news was grim enough to make anyone lose their wits for a moment. But the Duke of Aldeni speaks wisely, and I am glad that at least one cool head remains in this room. I fear that over the next few months we will have news as bad or worse, and I think that we should all make the decision now to meet whatever the future holds for us united with all the courage and resourcefulness that we can muster. Now, perhaps we can retake our seats.”

After a moment’s awkward silence, Moryson stepped forward hesitantly. “Sire, if I might speak?” Priam nodded.

“Sire, has there been any report about what kind of creature attacked both Gorkenfort and the Retreat?”

“Yes. The two brothers who managed to escape the slaughter in the Retreat and several guards who rushed to Magariz’s quarters related what they saw. Magariz was attacked by creatures no-one has seen previously, or at least lived to report seeing, while three more of these same creatures led the attack on the Retreat.”

Duke Roland wheezed and grunted as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “And these strange creatures are …?”

“Large creatures, as large as the wraiths but far more substantial. Taller than a man, but man-shaped. They appeared to be made of old bones held together by yellowish ice; with very little actual flesh. Each had a skull of a strange tusked beast for a head, their eyes silvery orbs, beaks instead of mouths. Leathery wings tipped with talons. Frightening creatures. Huge raking claws for hands. And odd bits of white fur stuck over their bodies. Two led the attack on Magariz, three the attack on the Retreat.”

“This is terrible,” muttered Isend, “terrible.” His dark eyes shifted nervously about the other men in the room.

“But what did they want, sire? Was it just –” Axis paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “the body, or was that just a random happenchance?”

Priam shook his head, his eyes haunted. “No. The two brothers who escaped the room where the creatures slaughtered most of the brothers said that they whispered Rivkah’s name as they attacked. It was only after they had taken her body that they returned to the scriptorium and destroyed most of the books and records that were there.”

Jayme and Moryson again exchanged glances. “And the brothers saw the creatures carry off her body?” Jayme asked.

“No,” Priam replied. “They fled to a closet when the Retreat came under attack. They heard the creatures go down to the crypt, then up the stairs to the scriptorium. After destroying the scriptorium and its contents they feasted on the bodies of the brothers. Only after an hour’s silence did the two left alive emerge to discover the complete carnage.”

“Why?” whispered Borneheld. “Why?”

No-one could answer him. Priam spread his hands helplessly. Jayme, his face as white as fine parchment, rested his head heavily in one hand. Jorge looked about him for a moment, then leaned forward, his voice low and intense, but growing louder and more angry with each word.

“I am dismayed by the reaction here in this room, and I am now old enough not to care if I insult each and every one of you in saying that. Is this a war council? Or is every last man of you like the young virgin who, when confronted by a rapist, knows not whether to run screaming or to smile politely and lift her skirts for the invasion?”

Jorge glared about the table, his grey eyebrows bristling with indignation. “Every one of you seems to have missed the point that the greater tragedy would have been if Magariz had been killed or taken. Magariz is the man who currently holds the fate of Achar in his hands. He is the one who, until he can be relieved, must hold these creatures back.”

Jorge leaned still further across the table and stabbed his finger at each of the men sitting there. Now his voice was low and intense. “I am aware that Rivkah was either sister or mother to three of you and I am aware that the loss of the brothers upsets the Seneschal deeply. But Achar faces an unimaginable threat from an unknown foe. We cannot weep and wail over a body that is thirty-years’ cold. Pull yourselves together! Act like men and the leaders of Achar that you are supposed to be!”

Jorge leaned back in his chair, his weather-lined face defiant. He was disgusted with the way Priam had acted. Priam was supposed to be the man to provide the leadership for the whole nation, but had instead sat in his chair and gone into a fugue over the loss of his sister’s body. And as for Borneheld … he had always harboured doubts about Priam’s wisdom in appointing the untested Borneheld as WarLord, and Borneheld’s behaviour today had only deepened them. Jorge shifted his gaze to Axis, who was relaxed back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded.

Jorge spoke again into the silence. “BattleAxe. What is the danger?” Let me see just how good he is, he thought to himself.

“You have said yourself,” Axis replied calmly. “The danger is that Achar is about to be overrun by creatures whom we do not understand and who threaten to break through Gorkenfort’s defences. In a manner of speaking they have already done so.”

“Yes,” Jorge said, “and I think that –”

“And furthermore,” Axis continued, over him, “I think that perhaps Gorkenfort is not the only flashpoint. One of the indications we had that these creatures would renew their attacks was the number of Ravensbundmen migrating down from the north during past weeks. Is it possible that the sightings of strangers about Smyrton, emerging from the Forbidden Valley, is another indication of the same thing? That the creatures who are pushing the Ravensbundmen from the north are also pushing the creatures of the forest south from the Shadowsward?”

Jorge nodded slowly. But Jayme looked anxious and concerned. “But Axis, are not the Forbidden in the Icescarp Alps and the Forbidden in the Shadowsward the same? Are they fighting among themselves?”

“Or is there something stranger still than the Forbidden, stronger than the Forbidden? More frightening than the Forbidden?” Roland asked.

“Damn it, we just don’t know!” Jorge was angry with himself as much as anyone else. “We just have no idea what it is that we face. Now, what are we going to do about it?”

Borneheld slapped the table with his open hand, attracting everyone’s attention. If he had lost his temper earlier, then he appeared cool and decisive now. “We move, and we move fast. Whether or not we face a threat from the Shadowsward or not I have yet to be convinced,” he shot Axis a brief look of simmering ill-will, “but we do know that we face a threat from above Gorkenfort. If these creatures are wanting to move south through Ichtar then they will have to come through Gorken Pass, it is the only way past the River Andakilsa and the Icescarp Alps. There they will run straight into Gorkenfort. Earl Jorge speaks well. This young virgin is not going to run squealing, nor is she going to lift her skirts. We fight, and it is obvious that this winter the battle will be over Gorkenfort. I have moved many units, both of infantry and of cavalry, to Gorkenfort over the past few weeks. That will not be enough. I propose that as it can be organised, and I think it will only take a few days, I will move another seven thousand men to Gorkenfort. And I will move as many of them as I can the fast way. By ship through the Andeis Sea and then up the River Andakilsa.”

“But those seas are unpredictable in autumn,” said Priam.