closed her eyes against the tears that pricked up in them. In the eighteen years she had known Axis she had never presumed upon their friendship enough to mention his mother to him so openly. And yet this young woman had spoken clearly and simply of Rivkah’s pride and love for Axis as if it were undoubted fact. Embeth did not often feel so deeply moved, and especially by one so young. She opened her eyes again and looked between Axis and Faraday. Perhaps her reticence in past years had been a mistake.
Axis took a slow, deep breath, profoundly affected by Faraday’s words. “Thank you, Faraday. It is rare that I hear anyone speak so well of my mother.”
Faraday’s beautiful smile lit up her face and Axis’ eyes darkened perceptibly as they looked back at Faraday.
Embeth, watching the two of them, felt a sudden chill of premonition. “Dear Artor,” she whispered to herself. “Not this … not this.” Not with Faraday bound to Borneheld. Not with the contracts signed and the betrothal oaths taken before witnesses. Not with the bitterness that already existed between the two brothers. If it could be stopped before it went too much further then the tragedy might be averted. She would have to speak to Faraday, the sooner the better.
Embeth smiled and spoke lightly, deliberately breaking the look between them. “Axis, it is so rare that I have a chance to hear you play your harp. Will you play for us now? And Timozel, do you have your lute with you?”
There was a collective sigh of relief around the fire as the mood changed.
“Only if the ladies agree to accompany us with their voices,” Timozel said, unsure what to think about the scene he had just witnessed.
For a man so given to the military arts, Axis had an unexpected flair for music and song. Embeth was never aware of who had taught Axis his skill on the harp – he was proficient even when he joined her and Ganelon at eleven. Although far less skilled, Timozel could accompany well enough and the three women were all practised with their voices. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly with ballads and songs of love and adventure.
Gilbert, protesting his inability to keep a tune, sat silently throughout the evening, applauding the musicians and singers whenever they finished a song and smiling at their laughter. His sharp eyes, however, kept returning to Axis and Faraday. Jayme had told him to report everything he witnessed, everything, and Gilbert meant to do just that.
Two days later they rode into Tare, the small town which sat on the border of the Plains of Tare and the small Province of Tarantaise. It was poor country, and even assiduous use of the Plough only yielded small returns in grain and vegetables, so Tare relied on the east – west trade across Achar for its primary income. When Embeth had first come to live in Tare as a young bride she had been overcome by the vast spaces of the sparsely grassed plains surrounding Tare. Now, after twenty years, she had come to love the town and appreciate the slow rhythms of Tarian fife.
The townsfolk fined the town walls to watch them arrive, waving and cheering as the men rode around the town walls. The Tarians were round-eyed but not displeased to see so many Axe-Wielders. Soldiers, whether Axemen or regular soldiers, always meant money.
The majority of the Axemen would have to camp outside the town precinct, for there was no way they could be billeted in a town the size of Tare, but Embeth invited the women, Gilbert, Axis and Belial to stay at her castle. After some confusion, Axis told Timozel he too could stay with his mother while they were in Tare. It was a concession that pleased Timozel though he was resentful that he needed Axis’ permission to sleep in his own house. Especially when Axis would no doubt make free use of the privacy of Embeth’s home to take further advantage of her.
Axis planned to stop two days in Tare to replenish supplies and rest his men and their horses. After the first few days on a hard march there was always a mass of equipment needing repair, horses to be reshod, and men needed the chance to spend some solid hours at weapon practice. And if the reports drifting down from the north were true, then within a few short weeks they might not have the time to relax, and many might never have the chance to woo a serving girl over a jar of ale again. He told the unit commanders to let as many men as possible enjoy their evenings in town.
The Lady of Tare lived in a high, thick-walled castle sheltered against the fortified walls of the town and separated from the streets of Tare by a tall private wall. It sat on a small hill so that its walks and gardens looked down over the town. It was a large building and accommodated the women, their servants, the Brother and the three Axe-Wielders easily. Although Embeth had another son and a daughter – twins and a year younger than Timozel – both were still attending the court at Carlon.
Embeth desperately wanted to talk to Faraday before she departed, but Merlion had other ideas. For the two days they stayed with the Lady of Tare she kept Faraday closeted in her room, going over designs for dresses, and describing the duties and responsibilities she would have to assume once she became the Duchess of Ichtar.
Faraday would have liked to spend some time on her own or talking with Embeth. There was also the town to explore and the thrill of watching the Axe-Wielders at weapon practice. But Merlion kept her firmly under control, admonishing her that she would have no time for such frivolities once she was married to Borneheld. Merlion had brought with her lists of the major nobles in the realm, the names of their families out to the third cousin, and the type of property and income that each controlled. All this she would have Faraday learn. By heart, if possible. There were also the towns and villages of Ichtar to memorise, together with the names of Borneheld’s retainers and senior household staff.
By the night of their second day in Tare, Faraday was despairing. They would be leaving at dawn the next morning and Merlion’s demands on her time had left her feeling exhausted rather than refreshed. She sat up in her bed, relishing her privacy, and, gazing through the window at the clouds rushing across the moonlit night, let her thoughts drift towards her forthcoming marriage to Borneheld. Now that there was some physical distance between them Faraday felt she could think about it a little more dispassionately.
Faraday knew she had been bedazzled by her first sight of Axis, but she understood she could not let her fascination with the man ruin her marriage with Borneheld. Axis was surely a better looking man than Borneheld, and his reputation as BattleAxe lent him an aura of glamour that her affianced husband could not match, but Borneheld was no poor choice for husband by any means. As Duke of Ichtar, he was the richest man in the realm apart from Priam himself, and he was also WarLord and current heir to the throne of Achar. It was no wonder her parents were so excited with the match. She could do no better.
Faraday began to feel a little guilty about her behaviour in the palace courtyard. Borneheld had not meant to insult her and had tried, in his own way, to be kind. She thought over what she knew of Borneheld’s life. Perhaps his blunt nature owed much to his lack of a mother in childhood. Searlas had not only not remarried after Rivkah’s death, but had died himself when Borneheld was fourteen, leaving the boy to assume the heavy responsibilities of the Dukedom of Ichtar at an extraordinarily early age. Perhaps all he needed was the gentle hand of a wife. Faraday tried to picture Borneheld as he might be after two years of marriage to her – still predominantly a fighting man perhaps, but with polished manners and easy conversation. Yes, Faraday smiled, perhaps all he needed was a bit of refinement in his life, and she would be the one to provide it.
She wondered what it had been like for Embeth when she first married Ganelon of Tare. Faraday knew Embeth was of a Carlonite family and that she’d married at an even younger age than Faraday was now. Perhaps she’d faced similar problems.
