There had been so little time or opportunity at Gorkenfort for Faraday and Axis to talk.
And Axis needed someone to speak of her, to remind him how much he loved her. Once her image had been so vivid in his mind, now he had to struggle to recall the exact shade of her hair and the timbre of her laughter.
Raum hesitated a little, then began by explaining the significance of the groves to the Avar people and how those Avar children who had the potential to become Banes had to be presented and bonded to the Mother. Fernbrake Lake, one of the four magical lakes in Achar, lay deep in the Bracken Ranges far to the south of the Avarinheim, and the Avar people had to travel secretly through the hostile Skarabost Plains to reach the lake they called the Mother.
“And Rivkah helped you in this?” Axis asked, smiling at his mother.
“Yes,” Raum said. “For many years now she has spent the summer months with us, often helping to take a child or two through to the Bracken Ranges.”
“And yet none in Achar knew that the Princess Rivkah walked among them,” Axis said, his eyes on the flames. “Did you never want to return to your home, Rivkah?”
“I thought my life dead, Axis. I thought you dead. Had I known you lived I would have kept walking until I reached the Tower of the Seneschal and its BattleAxe.”
For a while there was silence, then Azhure prompted Raum to return to the story of the night he had bonded Faraday to the Mother. Ever since Azhure had seen the vision of Faraday awakening the Earth Tree on the night of the Yuletide attack, she had been fascinated by Faraday.
Raum told the story as if every moment of that night was seared into his memory. How he had tested Faraday at Jack and Yr’s insistence and, to his shock, had found she talked to the trees as easily as if she had been Avar-born. He told them how Faraday had bonded instantly to the Mother, how the Mother herself had wakened the lake and how he, Faraday and the child Shra had walked into and through the lake, to the Sacred Grove.
All listened intently, astounded by Raum’s tale.
“You walked through emerald light into the grove?” Azhure asked, her blue eyes wide. This was magic beyond anything she had yet seen.
Raum told them of how the Horned Ones had greeted Faraday, and how the most ancient and sacred of them all, the silver pelt, had given Faraday the bowl of enchanted wood.
“The bowl is a way for her not only to reach out and touch the Mother,” Raum explained, “but also to reach the Sacred Grove whenever she feels the need.”
“She has been blessed,” Azhure said, admiration and wonder evident in her voice.
Raum let his hand rest on Azhure’s shoulder. He had become very attached to this lonely woman and wished that the Avar had accepted her. She had saved his life, but Raum’s regard for Azhure went much deeper than gratefulness. “Yes, Azhure, she has truly been blessed.”
Axis’ eyes lingered on Raum’s hand. He raised his gaze to the Bane’s face slowly. “Is Faraday’s only role in Prophecy that of Tree Friend, Bane?”
“She has many things to do, Axis,” Veremund answered for Raum. “As do you. Concentrate on your own path, and let others find theirs as the Prophecy guides them.”
Axis nodded. “Has Faraday used the enchanted bowl, Raum? Has she stepped back into the Groves?”
“Yes,” Raum answered. “Yes, she has. Several times. Each time Faraday uses the bowl I can … feel it.”
Ogden and Veremund both studied the Bane closely. You can feel it? wondered Ogden. And I would wager that you can feel it changing you, can’t you, Bane Raum? How long before you, too, feel the urge to wander the paths of the Avarinheim all by yourself, wander until the pain in your body and your skull drives you mad? Until you are transformed? Do you feel it yet, Bane? Do you know?
Azhure sighed and sat back. She envied Faraday greatly. Not only did she have Axis’ love, but she had a major role to play in the Prophecy, a role that would one day see her walk at Axis’ side. Azhure might love Axis herself, but she knew her love would not be returned. Axis would never be her lover. Faraday and Axis were both heroes, and they would walk together into legend and immortality. She was only a human woman, scarred in mind and body, doomed to drift without a true home or a lifetime lover.
The next day the party walked down from the mountains and into Beltide.
The pigs abandoned Sigholt five days before Beltide.
Saddened, Jack stood and watched as the fifteen who had kept him company for the last three thousand years rolled and grunted their way across the bridge. He had always known they would go one day, always known they would pick the day. What better time to choose than these days when the Prophecy walked?
But Jack was excited as well as saddened. The pigs would only leave him to seek the Blood.
For three days the pigs trotted resolutely along the HoldHard Pass, stopping only to rest or nose around the rocks for whatever they could find to eat. But they did not waste much time foraging for food. Soon there would be better eating than stiff weather-worn grass, so aged and wizened it took true hunger to make it palatable.
On the fourth day the pigs emerged from the HoldHard Pass and turned north-east. For another day and night they trotted.
On Beltide, as the day darkened towards dusk, the pigs began to change. Their limbs lengthened, their bodies became sleeker, their coats lighter. Their teeth began to glint and their mouths began to grin.
As the moon emerged they began to lope, but they made no sound. They would not begin to bay until they had caught the scent they had waited so long for.
Above, the moon gleamed and lit their way before them.
As they closed the distance between the last of the alps and the Avar groves, Axis drew closer to Azhure. “Azhure, what do you think of the Avar?” he asked.
Azhure thought for a moment. “They are a reserved people, Axis, and they do not accept strangers easily. They are very peaceable and reject those who embrace violence.”
Axis nodded. If the Avar had rejected Azhure because of her involvement in her violent father’s death, then how would they feel about a former BattleAxe of the AxeWielders?
“They are reserved,” Azhure repeated. “Shy. They have learned over centuries of persecution to fear the Plains Dwellers, as they call …” She almost said “us,” “the Acharites. They protest to loathe violence, but …” Her voice trailed off.
“But they have an aura of violence about them?”
Azhure glanced at Axis, startled. “Yes. I had not thought of it that way before. But … yes. They put their children through a frightening test to see if they have the ability to become Banes – a test that kills many of them. And sometimes the Banes themselves can threaten violence. When I was a girl in Smyrton and stumbled upon Rivkah
