"Douglass, Sara - Axis Trilogy 1 - Battleaxe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Douglass Sara)

His voice was clear and strong, and the others let him sing the first four verses before they joined in. Soon the night rang with good-humoured voices and when the ballad was finally sung to a close, after the fifth repetition of the final chorus, Axis joined his men in laughter and loud applause.
He played several more ballads, then, as the mood shifted, strummed soft tunes on the harp as his commanders talked about the ride north and about the danger they would shortly face. What were these creatures that had attacked Gorkenfort? Where did they come from? Who drove them?
"BattleAxe?" asked Baldwin, one of Axis' commanders. "What do you think about this Prophecy? Are the creatures that attack Gorkenfort the Ghostmen the Prophecy speaks of? Before we left Carlon we thought it was the Forbidden who were responsible. But now . . ." His voice drifted off.
There was silence as everyone waited for their BattleAxe to answer. Ogden and Veremund watched him carefully.
"Do you think that Gorgrael's Ghostmen attack Gorkenfort, Baldwin?" said Axis, turning the question back.
Eildwin hesitated. The Prophecy Timozel and Arne had brought out of the Silent Woman Woods had spread like wildfire through the ranks of the Axe-Wielders. Once heard, it was impossible to forget.
"I cannot get the Prophecy out of my mind," Baldwin admitted, and to one side Ogden nodded. It was enchanted. Once heard, few would be able to forget it — except the third verse, of course. Only one man could remember that. He restrained a smile as he thought of the enchantments that the Prophet had woven into his Prophecy. No doubt the Seneschal would find over the next few months that many Acharites were not so deeply committed to Artor as they thought.
"It seems to make sense," Baldwin continued softly, "that if Gorgrael is responsible for the attacks in the north, then perhaps he was also responsible for the storm that hit the Ancient Barrows."
Axis frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but another commander, Methuen, broke in.
"If it j's Gorgrael in the north, then we need to find this StarMan to save us."
Axis, angry now, opened his mouth again, but was again forestalled.
"Axis," Belial asked gently. "What is that you play?"
Stunned by the question and by the circle of eyes gazing at him, Axis closed his mouth. What was it he played? Axis hadn't been paying any attention to what he actually strummed on the harp. Now he realised that he was playing a haunting melody he had never heard before. But it was more than that, for the style of music, its phrasing and beat, were completely alien to his ears.
"A silly tune, Belial, nothing more." He dropped the harp at his feet and hurriedly rose. "I have to check the sentries," he said, tersely, "to make sure they have the perimeter adequately covered."
Then he was gone.
Arne rose to follow him but Belial grabbed his arm. "No. Wait. Give him some time alone."
Axis inspected the sentries, then wandered a little distance from the camp, needing time to sort out his thoughts. What was happening to him?
The only good thing which could be said for his experiences since the Ancient Barrows was that his nightmares had finally completely disappeared. But if the lies of his nightmares no longer troubled Axis, thinking on the continuing enigma of his father made him deeply uncomfortable. What sort of man was this that could teach a growing foetus how to sing an enchanted ward to protect himself against evil later in life? Enchantments of any sort were evil, the Seneschal had taught him that. Even the herbal remedies that many country women used were frowned upon by the Brotherhood of the Seneschal, especially if the women used words or songs to aid the herbs in their healing powers, and Axis himselt had been involved in several cases where he had to bring these women to the Tower of the Seneschal for trial and justice. Axis shuddered at the memory of what happened to those women who had been found guilty; death by the purification of fire had always been the sentence imposed by the Seneschal. Never would he forget the screams of the simple country women as the flames engulfed them; at least it had not been his role to light the fire.
And now he, the BattleAxe, was experiencing disturbing, long-buried memories out of that deep, dark place that the reading of the Prophecy had unlocked. Not only memories, but talents. The ward against evil that he had sung to the apparition of Gorgrael had been the most powerful thus far, but the strange alien melody he had played for his men this evening had been another example.
Where had his talent for the harp and the music come from in the first place? Axis could never remember actually learning the harp. He had simply always played. Even as a small child he had been more skilful than the court bards. If the Seneschal learned of these strange tunes arid words that bubbled out of long-hidden memories, Axis himself might face the purifying flames, or, at the very least, be subjected to rigorous inquisition. For the first time in his life he was glad for the distance separating him and the Tower of the Seneschal.
He wandered slowly through the pitch-black night, listening to the soft sounds of the camp settling down for the night. Despite his best efforts, Axis' thoughts turned to Faraday and Timozel. Two such young and innocent people, both with such promise and zest for life. One the son of his closest female friend, the other a beautiful woman who had earned his respect and admiration. Axis had never been in love before, although he had never been slow to charm women into his bed, and had sometimes wondered if he was too cynical and bitter to ever open himself to the risks of love. But that night in the shadows of the Barrows, with the bones of the Icarii kings mouldering beneath his feet and Faraday weeping in his arms, Axis had realised that perhaps, just perhaps, her freshness, innocence and above all, honesty, might be enough to break through the barriers he had spent years building around his heart. Axis bent down and pulled a strand of grass from the ground, absently chewing it as he thought. What had he meant when he'd told Faraday to think about risking spending her life with someone she could learn to love? Had he meant himself? Yes, Axis admitted. Yes he had. He laughed bitterly. Had he really been so brazen as to suggest to the daughter of an Earl that she would forget a life of ease at court, possibly a life as Queen, for his bed? Borneheld's taunt in the palace courtyard had stung deep. Axis could never hope to win the hand of a noble heiress like Faraday. Was that why he had kissed her? Was he attracted to her only because it would be a triumph to win her away from Borneheld?
Axis wasn't sure. But he did know that he had never met another woman like her. Perhaps he had kissed her simply because she was Faraday and because she was close and warm and because he thought he might be falling in love with her.
Axis' mouth twisted. Now she lay mouldering with the Icarii kings along with her mother and over three hundred of his Axe-Wielders. In any event, what was love if it made him so careless that he condemned so many to death while he was lost in dreams of his would-be lover? Despite the reassurances of Ogden and Veremund, Axis still burned with guilt at leading the Axe-Wielders out of the Barrows that day. "You must not blame yourself, Axis."
Axis spun around. Strolling out of the dark, Belial smiled and saluted casually, although the use of Axis' name implied he came as a friend, not as Axis' lieutenant. In front of their men Axis and Belial were always BattleAxe and Lieutenant; in private they were friends and companions.
Axis tried to be annoyed and angry at the interruption, but failed on both counts. "I was responsible," Axis said, turning away to look at the clouds. "There is no-one else to blame."
Belial stood by him, watching the clouds as well, offering the simple comfort of his presence. There was nothing else to say about what had happened at the Barrows. It was the worst — in fact, the first — serious military defeat Axis had ever suffered and Belial knew that it would take time for Axis to come to terms with himself. Especially since the loss involved the Lady Faraday. Belial had not failed to notice his commander's attraction to the woman.
He turned his mind back to the storm. How could one call an altercation with a roiling storm a "military"
defeat? Because Belial, like so many of the Axe-Wielders, had made the connection between the unnatural ice spears of the storm and the Gorgrael of the Prophecy. What else from the Prophecy would rise up and bark at their heels before this adventure was ended?
"Belial?"
Belial snapped out of his reverie and realised that Axis had called his name two or three times.
"Your introspection is catching. Axis," he laughed. "What is it?"
"Belial, what did I play there tonight?"
Belial gazed steadily at his friend, then clapped Axis on the shoulder and grinned. "Who knows, Axis? To play something that beautiful you must have the soul of a bard, and all know that only bards and pregnant women need never explain their actions."
To his relief Axis laughed and relaxed under his hand. "You have the soul of a diplomat, Belial. What are you doing wandering about with the Axe-Wielders?"
"I'd look ridiculous in satins and ribbons, Axis, and I can't make a courtly bow to save my life. Now, to more mundane matters. I came out here with a purpose. The fifth cohort has a problem with its . . ."
"Belial!" Axis whispered, appalled, and Belial stopped short at the horror in Axis' voice.
Rolling down from the north, perhaps half a league away, were great churning clouds hanging to the ground, shot through with silver and blue lightning.
Gorgrael! Axis thought, furious with the Destroyer and with Ogden and Veremund for claiming Gorgrael would be too weak to strike soon. With his anger came fear. How could he save his men in these open spaces?
As one both men raced for the camp. As they reached the first of the lines Axis grabbed Belial's arm. "Get word to the commanders," he shouted.
"Tell the men to dig themselves as far into the ground as they can before the storm hits. It's our only hope!"
As Belial ran off, Axis looked back to the clouds, expecting to see the ghastly head of Gorgrael. But although they boiled with unnatural malevolence, they took no other form, and Axis turned back into camp.
Everywhere men were digging frantically with whatever came to hand — spades, swords, even pots and pans. Axis made himself walk slowly through the lines of men, stopping every now and then. Fear showed on every face.
The storm clouds were closer now, perhaps only a few minutes away. They were massive, dragging along the ground even as they boiled and tumbled among themselves, glowing and crackling in the night air with flashes of silver and blue lightning. It was one of the most frightening — and weird — sights Axis had ever seen.
"There's no wind, BattleAxe," Ogden shouted, grabbing at his arm. "Listen to me, Axis, Gorgrael can't —
Axis threw his arm off, furious at the sight of the old man. "You told me that Gorgrael was too weak to strike again this far south. You were wrong then. Why should I listen to you now?"
"He is weak, Axis!" Veremund said, rushing up behind Ogden. "Look at those clouds. Do you sense the same power in those that infused the last storm?"
"There is no wind, no fury, Axis. Gorgrael has weakened himself," Veremund continued more quietly.
"Then what is that I see approaching, gentlemen?" Axis snarled.
"It is a storm of fear," Ogden said very, very quietly. "The Destroyer knows he can cause as much damage with fear as he can with ice spears."
Axis knew he was right. Panic was as deadly to an army as were spears...of any description. Without another word he turned on his heel and strode further into the camp.