wraiths as Azhure stood by, horrified, unable to act through her own terror.
Axis’ mood shifted abruptly. “Your first target in war may not be Skraelings, Azhure,” he said a little sadly.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll discuss it when the time comes. Azhure, I must go. I thank you again for your assistance here this afternoon, and again I apologise for my rude treatment of you. I am glad our friendship has survived this afternoon.”
Axis turned to go.
“Wait!” Azhure cried, rummaging in the shoulder sack she carried about with her and withdrawing a bundle of dark golden silk.
She stood, gently fingering the material, her eyes downcast, then she looked up, and Axis felt his heart clench a little at the expression in her beautiful eyes.
“I’ve noticed you touching the tunic over your left breast, where once the twin crossed axes of your station rested. Now you are no longer BattleAxe, but rather Axis SunSoar, son of Princess Rivkah and StarDrifter, heir to the powers and gifts of the SunSoar Enchanters and to the Prophecy of the Destroyer. You need a new emblem, Axis, a new standard, a sign to mark you the StarMan.”
She shook the material out. “Rivkah found the fabric for me, and over the past few weeks I have spent the occasional hour sewing this for you.”
Axis took a sharp breath of amazement as the material unfolded in Azhure’s hands. It was a finely crafted tunic of deep golden silk, its texture slightly roughened so that it caught the light. Around the bottom of the sleeves and the high neck Azhure had embroidered designs recalling the exotic writing of the ancient Icarii language. The design embroidered in silk on the centre of the golden tunic made him catch his breath anew. It was the SunSoar blazing sun, but in blood-red rather than its usual insipid pale gold.
Azhure relaxed at the expression on Axis’ face. She hadn’t known whether or not he would accept it. “I have almost finished a battle standard for you in the same design, Axis SunSoar.”
“I will be proud to accept tunic and standard and to embrace this emblem as my own, Azhure,” Axis whispered, cradling the silken tunic in his hand. It was light, so light. “You have done me honour.”
Azhure shot off yet another arrow, hitting the scarlet target globe which already bristled with her previous shots. She gazed at the beautiful bow. No-one knew what wood it had been made of. Perhaps WolfStar had altered it with his enchantments, she thought vaguely, running her fingers over its smooth ivory surface. Strange patterns in gold tracery spiralled about the length of the bow, like nothing else she had seen decorating Icarii walls or art works. She wondered what WolfStar had been like. No-one among the Icarii liked talking about him much. Would he have minded that his bow had been lost into the possession of an Acharite woman?
She reached for an arrow and finding her quiver empty, abruptly realised she had a problem. Always there had been an Icarii present to retrieve her arrows for her. But now the target ball swung sixty paces above her head. She could hardly leave the ball bristling with arrows – the next Icarii to use the chamber would be furious at her carelessness. She sighed and hung the Wolven on a wall hook. Either she’d have to climb up herself, a choice she quickly discarded as she glanced about the smooth walls, or she would have to find an Icarii willing to retrieve the arrows for her.
“I should be pleased to retrieve them for you, Azhure,” a voice said from behind her, and Azhure whipped about.
StarDrifter stood at the rail of the observation gallery, smiling down at her, then launched himself into the air with his powerful wings. Watching him, Azhure envied the Icarii ability to fly. What would it be like, she thought, to be able to escape into the limitless freedom of the skies?
StarDrifter alighted before her, passing over her arrows.
“Thank you,” Azhure said, dropping the arrows into the quiver across her back. “Next time I will make sure someone else is using the chamber whenever I practise.”
StarDrifter smiled. She had such a lovely face. For weeks now his desire for her had been growing. Yet she tried to keep herself so distant, avoiding the times he used the Chamber of Steaming Water.
He gazed longingly at her hair. No Icarii woman had long hair, it stopped growing once it reached the level of their neck feathers, and StarDrifter loved the feel of long hair – it was one of the attractions human women had for him. Unable to stop himself, he reached over and cradled the back of her head, feeling the weight of the coiled braid.
Azhure started in alarm. “StarDrifter!” she began, then StarDrifter’s other arm was about her and he pressed her against his body, stopping her objections with a deep kiss.
For long minutes Azhure did not resist. She had never been kissed like this before. The few experiences she’d endured from the awkward boys of Smyrton had not pleased her, and their groping rumblings had repulsed her.
This was different. The feel of his chest under her hands, the warmth and taste of his mouth, curiosity at new sensations, the subtle but unmistakable touch of his Enchanter’s power, all made her hesitate to break the embrace.
Encouraged by Azhure’s initial reaction, StarDrifters mouth left hers to caress her jaw and throat, gently biting, nibbling. He wrapped his wings about her, cradling her within them so his hands were free. He started to unfasten the buttons of her tunic.
Azhure finally found the resolve to push her hands more firmly against his chest. It was difficult, for part of her mind screamed at her to stay and let him do what he wanted, but another part recalled Rivkah’s words about being cradled in a lover’s wings during Beltide, and the thought of Rivkah gave Azhure the courage to speak.
“No,” she mumbled. “No, StarDrifter. Stop.”
He smiled and slipped his hand inside her tunic, cupping a breast. “You do not want me to stop, Azhure.”
“If you do not stop then it will be rape, StarDrifter,” Azhure insisted, her voice now firm. “I love and respect Rivkah too much to betray her like this. Let me go.”
“Rape? But do you not enjoy this, my beautiful woman?” StarDrifter asked, his fingertips drifting over a nipple. “I can feel you tremble. You do not want me to stop.”
Azhure freed an arm and struck him across the face. The effect was electric. StarDrifter stumbled backwards, a hand clasped to his shocked face.
Azhure jerked her tunic closed, fumbling with the fastenings. “I do not welcome your advances, StarDrifter. Please do not lessen my respect for you by pursuing me like this,” she said emphatically, then, picking up the Wolven, she turned and climbed the ladder into the observation gallery with as much dignity as she could muster.
Azhure was as furious with herself as she was with him. She had almost managed to put her scruples aside in order to indulge her curiosity and enjoy what StarDrifter was offering. She crossed the observation gallery, her steps quickening as she got closer to the door and escape. In her haste she did not notice the figure who had
