Enchanter: Book Two of the Axis Trilogy

“Then bloody say it!” Borneheld shouted, and leaned across the table to seize Gilbert by his habit.

“Priam,” Gilbert stammered, frightened by the madness in Borneheld’s eyes. “Priam.”

Borneheld let Gilbert go. “Priam? Priam betrays me? How?”

“Priam is frightened and alone,” Gilbert whispered. “He does not have your resolve or your courage. He listens to the Prophecy of the Destroyer.”

Borneheld swore, and Gilbert hurried on. “He wonders if Axis is still alive and, if so, whether he should consider an alliance with the Forbidden.”

“He what?” Borneheld said. “How can he consider such a thing? Artor himself must be screaming at the thought.”

“Yes,” Gilbert said. “Your reaction mirrors Jayme’s.”

“How many know that Priam thinks this way?” Borneheld asked.

“Jayme, Moryson, the four of us in this room, and one or two others, my informants in the palace at Carlon.”

“This is something that should not be bruted about,” Borneheld said.

“Jayme would entirely agree with that. My Lord, I cannot stress how anxious Jayme is about this development. If Priam were to ally himself with Axis and his ungodly hordes, then the Forbidden could invade Achar and all would be lost.”

He took a careful pause. “My Lord. Jayme has instructed me to tell you that you have his, nay, the Seneschal’s, entire support in whatever course of action you choose to take in this matter.”

Borneheld turned towards the fire so that none could see his face. “And what does ‘Jayme’s entire support’ mean, Gilbert? Has not Axis efficiently destroyed your military power base? Where are your vaunted Axe-Wielders now?”

“We control the hearts and souls of the Acharites, my Lord Duke. We are the mediators between their souls and the rewards of the AfterLife in the care of Artor, or, should they refuse to listen to our message, in the pits of fire where worms will gnaw at their entrails for eternity. My Lord Duke, they listen to us. Should we say, ‘Borneheld is your man’, then they will listen.”

Gilbert took a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was heavy with meaning. “If you fight against Axis and the Forbidden, Borneheld, then Jayme and the Seneschal will support you in whatever course of action you decide to take.”

Borneheld’s eyes glinted strangely. “And what does the Brother-Leader advise me to do, Brother Gilbert?”

“Brother-Leader Jayme advises that you return to Carlon, my Lord, should the situation here in Jervois Landing be stable enough. Once back in Carlon you can shore up Priam’s resolve, or –”

“Or?”

“Or perhaps you can decide to take some other course of action.”

“And what ‘course of action’ do you advise me to take, Brother Gilbert?”

“I would advise that you are only one step away from the throne, my Lord Duke Borneheld. Priam is childless, and you are the heir,” Gilbert said very softly, his eyes steady on Borneheld’s. “I would advise that you take that one step closer. We need, Achar needs, a King whose loyalties and resolve are uncompromised, who can lead us to victory against the Forbidden.”

There was complete and utter silence in the room as Borneheld stared at Gilbert.

At dawn Borneheld met with his senior commanders; Duke Roland of Aldeni, Earl Jorge of Avonsdale, and the savage Ho’Demi who, by virtue of commanding eleven thousand men, sat at Borneheld’s table with Gautier and Timozel.

They reviewed the system of canals which the majority of Borneheld’s men were digging. Borneheld knew that a battle fought against the Skraelings on their terms was virtually unwinnable. Now he would fight the Skraelings on his terms.

He and his commanders had planned a massive series of deep canals between the rivers Azle and Nordra that they would flood when finished. The Skraelings hated water and avoided it whenever possible. If they attacked in force Borneheld hoped they would be driven by the twisting system of canals into small pockets and envelopes where Borneheld’s men could pick them off relatively safely.

It was a bold move, but one that all agreed might just work. Especially since the Skraelings had spread themselves so thinly over Ichtar that it would take Gorgrael months to build up a force strong enough to try to push further south. For ten weeks every soldier, plus thousands of ordinary Acharites who were within reasonable distance, had been out digging the canals. Each would be twenty paces wide and more than ten deep, and the entire system of canals would provide a watery barrier almost fifteen leagues wide.

“It is looking good, gentlemen,” Borneheld said cheerfully. “Jorge, you have been in charge of the western series of canals. When will they be ready to flood?”

“In two days, WarLord.”

“Good!” Borneheld slapped Jorge on the back. “And Roland, your canals are already flooded?”

Roland nodded. What could have happened to put Borneheld in such a good mood?

“Ho’Demi.” Borne held turned to the Ravensbundman. “What do your scouts report?”

Ho’Demi shrugged a little and his hair gently chimed with the slight movement. “Very little activity within two leagues north of here, Lord Duke, though above that distance Skraelings scurry about in small bands. But they seem disorganised. I doubt they will have the strength to attack for some time yet.”

“And they will certainly not attack through the warmer months,” Borneheld said. “In a week spring will be upon us. Gentlemen! I feel more positive than I have for months! I think we will not only be able to hold the Skraelings with this watery line of defences, but start our reconquest of Ichtar within only a few months.”

He beamed at the surrounding men, ignoring the bemused expressions on Roland’s, Jorge’s and Ho’Demi’s faces.

“So!” Borneheld rubbed his hands together. “This is the perfect time for me to make a quick journey down the Nordra to confer with Priam. Besides, Faraday seems … ill … not herself. Perhaps it would be best if she could see the physicians at the court of Carlon. We will be leaving this afternoon.”

“Borneheld!” Roland said. “You can’t just leave Jervois Landing like this!”

Jorge concurred. “You are needed more here than in Carlon, WarLord!”

“My dear comrades,” Borneheld replied, “with such competent men already in Jervois Landing you can well afford to lose me for a few weeks. Timozel, you will travel with Faraday and myself. Pick a small contingent of men to travel with us and organise some river transport. I want to leave by dusk. Gautier, my good friend, I leave you in charge of Jervois Landing. Roland, Jorge and Ho’Demi will give you their full support as they would give it to me.”

He looked carefully at the three men, each of whom fought to restrain their shock. Gautier?

Finally all three inclined their heads. “As you wish, WarLord,” Jorge said quietly.

“As I wish,” Borneheld said menacingly. “Always as I wish. I will not countenance treachery. Timozel? You have much work to do before we can leave this evening. Get to it.”

Timozel’s face was pale, and uncharacteristically he stood his ground, ignoring Borneheld’s orders. “Great Lord,” he began. “Surely I would be better left to command the troops here in Jervois Landing?”

“What?” Borneheld glared at him. “Do you think to contradict me, stripling?”

Timozel swallowed, but his eyes were bright, fanatical. “Lord, you know what I have seen –”

“I know what now I see!” Borneheld shouted. “I need you in Carlon, Timozel! Your place is at my side … and Faraday’s, of course,” he added, as an afterthought. His voice regained its strength. “And if you demonstrate that you are incapable of following orders then the only command you will receive is of a blanket in a cell. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Lord,” Timozel mumbled. When would Borneheld pass command over to him? He suppressed a niggling doubt. All would be well. It would.

14 (#ulink_a0c1d76f-a2a1-551d-aef9-f45870651aa6)

Through the Mountain Passes (#ulink_a0c1d76f-a2a1-551d-aef9-f45870651aa6)

“It is a sadness to see your parents go their separate ways after so many years.” MorningStar sighed. “But historically it was entirely expected.”

Axis looked at his grandmother, puzzled. “What do you mean?”