“It is,” said Isaiah, and Axis thought he saw that fleeting shadow cross the tyrant’s face.
“Does the Tyrant of Isembaard still rely on the ancient methods of keeping people happy?” Axis asked. “Continual expansion? Warfare? Does your throne depend on victory in war, Isaiah?”
Isaiah turned his head to look at Axis fully. “You know the answer to that, Axis. Why else allow you to listen to my conversation with Lister?”
Axis looked back at the map. “You called Lister your ‘northern ally’,” he said, “and from my own experience I know Skraelings prefer ice and snow above all else.” He ran a hand slowly up the map, then tapped the area above Gershadi and Viland. “He’s up here. In the frozen northern wastes.”
Isaiah tilted his head in agreeance.
“And you want to invade ‘north’,” Axis said. He fell silent, concentrating on the map.
“By the stars, Isaiah,” Axis said eventually, “you have allied with Lister and the Skraelings with only one possible objective. The kingdoms above the FarReach Mountains: Pelemere, Kyros, Escator, perhaps even the Outlands. You intend to sandwich the Northern Kingdoms between you, yes? Two arms, two pincers, icy ghosts from the north, desert warriors from the south.”
“A sound strategy, surely,” Isaiah said.
“But such a risk,” said Axis. “Not merely relying on an alliance with Skraelings, for the stars’ sakes, but such a massive invasion into lands so far from your home.” Axis studied the map once more. “Frankly, I would have tried for something more achievable that didn’t necessitate a Skraeling alliance … the Eastern Independencies, for example.” He tapped the map down in its lower eastern corner. “I can’t think why you have not ‘accrued’ them already.”
Isaiah did not answer, and Axis looked at him curiously. “By the gods,” Axis said softly after a moment or two. “You have tried for the Eastern Independencies, haven’t you?”
“I campaigned against the Eastern Independencies in my second year on the throne,” Isaiah said. “The campaign proved to be … difficult.”
Stars! Axis thought, recalling Lister’s earlier remark about the generals. Isaiah was very uncertain of his throne. He had one military disaster behind him and he could not afford another — not with both a nation and some restless generals expecting a military victory resulting in the acquisition of yet more new territory.
“Why,” Axis asked, “were the Eastern Independencies so hard to —”
“That is not the issue now,” Isaiah said, his tone tight, and Axis knew this was not the time to push the point.
“So instead you ally with the Skraelings in the frozen northern wastes,” Axis said. “An interesting alliance.”
“It cannot fail,” Isaiah said. “The Central Kingdoms, the Outlands and their allies will not be able to resist us.”
Axis was trying hard to reconcile this Isaiah with the one who had handed him the Goblet of the Frogs. He realised, very suddenly, that there was no contradiction at all. Isaiah was a man genuinely unsuited to tyranny, which made him immensely vulnerable, which in its turn made him even more determined to win for himself a great military victory that resulted in the conquering of vast lands.
The only question in Axis’ mind was why Isaiah was so determined to cling to his throne. Axis thought that Isaiah was not one who needed the magnificence of throne and title and power of life and death over millions in order to bolster his self-esteem.
So why the need to ally with the Skraelings in order to achieve military victory? Why embark on a course which would result in the death of tens of thousands?
“I need a friend, here at court,” Isaiah said, his eyes watching Axis carefully as if he could understand the train of Axis’ thoughts. “I have none. No one I can trust.”
“If you want me to be your friend, then tell me why you want this invasion so badly. The real reason, Isaiah.”
Isaiah held his gaze for a long moment. “And so I will tell you,” he said, “when I am certain I can trust you.”
Axis laughed softly, shaking his head. “Why do I find it impossible to remain angry with you, Isaiah?”
“Will you be my friend, Axis?”
“I will not aid you to invade the Central Kingdoms. I will not, under any circumstances, condone any action that sees you ally with Skraelings.”
“Be my conscience then, if friendship is too difficult.”
Isaiah’s eyes twinkled, and Axis again shook his head in amusement. Isaiah was impossible to dislike.
“Your conscience, then,” Axis said.
“Good,” Isaiah said, taking Axis’ hand, and Axis sensed that Isaiah was truly relieved.
“Now,” said Isaiah, glancing at one of the windows, “it grows dark, and I fear I am late for an appointment with wife number fifty-nine. Can you find your way back to your apartment by yourself?”
Axis was struck firstly by the fact that at least Isaiah trusted him enough to allow him to wander the palace, and secondly to the casual mention of wife number fifty-nine.
“How many do you have?” Axis asked, aghast.
“Urn, eighty-four, I think.”
“So many?”
“I find myself displeased by a woman’s body when she is pregnant. So as my wives fall pregnant, I send them back to the women’s quarters and take to myself another wife. Also, many of the dependencies send me wives, hoping thus to garner my favour.”
“And you love none of them.” It was not a question.
“They are meaningless to me, Axis. I do not have an Azhure in my life.”
The sudden mention of his wife upset Axis more than he’d thought possible. He was shocked to find his eyes filling with tears as a terrible ache consumed him.
“I am sorry, Axis,” Isaiah said, the man of deep compassion now fully returned.
Axis nodded, then turned away.
Two hours later Axis lay awake in his chamber, hands behind his head, staring into the darkness.
Azhure.
He hadn’t thought much about her since Isaiah had pulled him back into life, but Isaiah’s words earlier brought home to Axis how much he missed her.
I do not have an Azhure in my life, Isaiah had said.
Neither, now, did Axis. She was dead, he was alive, and Axis had no idea if he would ever see her again. Who knew how many otherworlds there were? Who knew whether, once he died from this life, he would return to Azhure’s side?
Besides, how long was he to live now ?
