"They took Nevelon," Ho'Demi said, pulling his horse back to a slow walk as they approached the camp.

"Ah." Axis' voice was sad. "I liked Nevelon. We spent many fine hours together before these current troubles began." The eagle closed its beak, and tilted its head to one side, eyeing Ho'Demi. "Ho'Demi, how many Coroleans does Borneheld have fighting for him now?"

"Some six thousand, my Lord. More wait in Nordmuth for river transports north."

"Mercenaries? Or does the Corolean Emperor now officially extend military aid to Borneheld?"

"Mercenaries still. Borneheld pushes for a military alliance - his ambassadors wait upon the Corolean Emperor at this moment, but the Emperor still hesitates."

"Yet even with these six thousand the defences of Jervois Landing falter?

Borneheld must have a force nearing thirty thousand now."

"The defences are long, Lord Axis, and the Skraelings seemingly unending.

However many we kill, they simply keep on massing and pushing south."

The eagle was silent as Ho'Demi rode through the outskirts of the camp. The soft chimes of bells hung from poles and cooking tripods drifted from most tents, but few people were about.

"I speak with you for a reason," the eagle finally resumed. "I will send aid, aid for Achar rather than for Borneheld."

Ho'Demi smiled cynically. Axis was splitting hairs here, but at least he was not going to let his hatred of, and rivalry with, Borneheld prevent him from aiding Jervois Landing.

"I will not send mounted men. I do not trust Borneheld enough to send units that would be many days from the protection of Sigholt. Besides, whatever I could send in terms of mounted men or foot soldiers would not make an appreciable difference to the saving of Jervois Landing."

"You will send the Icarii," Ho'Demi said. It was the only thing Axis could do.

"Yes. I will send the Strike Force. But I will concentrate their attacks well behind the Skraeling lines in southern Ichtar - for two reasons."

Ho'Demi reined his horse in at his tent and dismounted -carefully, lest he dislodge the eagle. "I can guess at least one, my Lord. You do not trust Borneheld to stay the order to shoot them if they fly over the defences of Jervois Landing." "Do misjudge my brother?"

"No." Ho'Demi stood sheltered from wind and prying eyes between his tent and the protecting body of his horse. "No, you do not misjudge him. Borneheld somehow thinks that all flying creatures fly in league. He is incapable of telling the difference between Gorgrael's Gryphon and SkraeBolds and the Icarii. They are all targets. All evil."

"There is an added reason I will direct them behind Skraeling lines, Ho'Demi.

I can do more for you if I can stem the tide of Skraelings and IceWorms before they actually reach Jervois Landing's defences. The Strike Force is good. They were winning the battle in the WildDog Plains for me and I hope that they can turn the tide of wraiths at Jervois Landing." The voice paused. "The Icarii will arrive soon. Persevere. Tell all who will listen that the Icarii Strike Force will arrive to fight for Achar, as it once did thousands of years ago. Let people know that only a united effort will save Achar from Gorgrael. Spread word of the Prophecy. Serve the Prophecy, Ho'Demi, as you tell me you are bound to do."

"It is what every Ravensbund man, woman and child lives for. I will do what I can for you."

"By turning the tide at Jervois Landing I hope you will be freed the sooner to come to me, Ho'Demi. I need you." The eagle abruptly lurched into the air, and Ho'Demi staggered as it beat its wings momentarily in his face. Farewell, Axis SunSoar. Farewell, Chief Ho'Demi.

As the eagle soared into the clouds above the Ravensbund camp, Ho'Demi quickly unsaddled his horse, brushed him down, and gave him some oats. He lifted the tent flap and slipped inside. He was asleep even before he had finished pulling his outer bed furs about him.

Borneheld leaned out the window of the Tired Seagull and peered at a cluster of soldiers talking and gesturing animatedly in the street. He frowned, then ordered Gautier to bring their sergeant up to explain the excitement.

"Creatures!" the sergeant exclaimed. "Flying." He was so terrified he could say no more.

Their hearts pounding, Borneheld and Gautier called for their horses and rode to where they could get an unobstructed view. Both clearly saw that the black shapes whirling and diving north of the town were attacking, not reinforcing, Gorgrael s Skraelings.

"What?" Gautier asked, confused, trying to shade his eyes against the glare of sunlight on the clouds. "What are they?"

"They are Icarii," Ho'Demi said behind them, and they whirled around. "The Strike Force of the birdmen of Talon Spike. They accompanied Axis to Gundealga Landing."

"The Forbidden," Borneheld said. "Cursed and forsaken by Artor. No better than lizards."

"It would appear that Axis," Ho'Demi carefully did not call Axis "Lord" in front of Borneheld, "has sent them to aid us. See - they attack the Skraelings. There must be more than five hundred of them, shooting arrows into the Skraeling masses. The Icarii are fine archers."

Borneheld glared at Ho'Demi then turned back to the sight before him. As much as he hated to admit it, it did appear that the flying lizards were attacking the Skraelings.

"And when do you think that Axis will send them to attack i, Ho'Demi?"

Gautier said, hiding his fear behind a sneer.

"You have a truce between you, Gautier," Ho'Demi replied. "I have no doubt that, as a man of honour, Axis will honour the truce." He paused. "As will yourself and King Borneheld."

Borneheld wheeled his horse about and kicked it towards the town. "Order the men not to watch the lizards," he snapped to Gautier, then caught Ho'Demi's eye as his horse pushed by the Ravensbundman's. "That order'goes for your men, too, Ho'Demi. No-one watches the Forbidden. No-one discusses them. As far as I am concerned, they are not there."

But even before the words were out of Borneheld's mouth it was too late.

Along the entire front line, men wearied and despondent turned unbelieving eyes to the sky.

Inari stood in a section of trench with a dozen Coroleans and several Acharites. Inexplicably the tide of Skraelings had lessened slightly an hour ago. Now they could all see why.

The Acharite men murmured fearfully to themselves, but the Coroleans were curious.

"Who are they?" asked their lieutenant.

Inari said nothing, considering.

"Damn, they're good!" the Corolean muttered as he peered into the sky, and his subcommander punched the trench wall before him in his excitement.

"See how fast they shoot their arrows!"

The lieutenant dropped his eyes to Inari. Of all the men in the trench, his were the only ones which showed nosurprise.

"Tell me" the Corolean demanded.

Inari finally spoke. "They are the Icarii Strike Force," he said, "and they are sent by the StarMan of Prophecy to aid us and to save Achar."

"Do you speak of Axis?" one of the Acharites asked cautiously, his curiosity finally overcoming his fear.

"None other," Inari replied. "Listen."

The Skraeling mass panicked under the unexpected attack, and the SkraeBolds found the assault on the trenches faltered.

Above them four Crest of Icarii warriors screamed battle cries not heard in a thousand years, their excitement controlled and directed into the deadly rain of arrows they sent hurtling into Gorgrael's creatures. Every one found a mark.

Further above them soared several dozen scouts, their eyes and senses attuned exclusively to the possible presence ofGryphon.

Hovering over the battlefield, FarSight turned his extraordinary vision to the north, and his nostrils flared inexcitement.

"HoverEye! SharpEye!" he screamed. "Turn your Creststo the north. Ice Worms]"

Within minutes, two of the twelve Ice Worms that were hunching their way towards the canals toppled to the ground, their silver eyes dulled with the weight of countless feathered arrows.

Only nine of the remaining IceWorms managed to get close to the canals, and only seven of those completed the swim across the water.

Infuriated by the Icarii attack and the loss of so many IceWorms, the SkraeBolds used threats and violence to reinfuse their Skraelings with determination and the lust for blood. Within an hour the relentless attack on the trenches behind the canals had resumed.

But as the IceWorm attack had been blunted, so too had the Skraelings'.

It was not a rout, nor even a small victory, for Gorgrael had so many Skraelings packed into the territory above Jervois Landing that the mass largely absorbed the arrows without fatal damage. But it was a start, and it lessened the pressure on the trenches at a moment when they were close to collapse.

Over the next few days the Icarii attack strengthened from above as word of who they were and who had sent them spread along the front line. Borneheld's orders not to watch the Icarii or speak of them were ignored the instant he and Gautier were out of sight and hearing. The Coroleans were the most curious, and they learned quickly that the Ravens-bundmen had the answers they craved.

And, gradually, the Coroleans shared their new-found knowledge with their Acharite companions.

Soon whispered word of the Prophecy and the StarMan swept the length of the trenches. Stories of the pride and beauty of Icarii culture, and of the legendary skills of the Strike Force followed; this news, at least, the watchers from below could confirm with their own eyes. Within a week, the men huddled in the mud had heard it all, from the depravity of WoliStar SunSoar to the wonders of the Star Dance and the Icarii Enchanters.

The Ravensbundmen served the Prophecy and the StarMan well.

At any given time Axis had four Crest flying above the Skraeling forces, while four more waited in the south-west Urqhart Hills, some fifteen to twenty leagues from the fighting, and the final four Crest of the Strike Force waited at Sigholt.

Every five or six days one of the groups would be relieved by a fresh force of four Crest from Sigholt.

Even as highly trained as they now were, the Icarii found the constant fighting hard. They faced the threat of Gryphon attack, and, mindful of the disaster that befell SpikeFeather's Wing, they kept together as much as possible.

Four Crest contained almost six hundred Icarii, far too many for Gorgrael's pack of nine Gryphon to attack. But even so, stragglers would sometimes fall to the fearsome creatures.

To the eyes of the scouts, Axis added the eyes of the eagle, and the solitary figure of the eagle floating high above them became almost a talisman for those Crest fighting the Skraelings below. Peculiarly attuned to the presence of Gryphon, both EvenSong and SpikeFeather spent more than their fair share of hours flying sentinel to the Crests fightingthe Skraelings.

One of the main problems facing the Icarii was, again, the replenishing of their arrows. The four Crest soaring above the battlefield on any one day could shoot tens of thousands of arrows - how to ensure enough arrows to fight a full anduseful day?

No Icarii could carry enough arrows for a full day's fighting, and they faced constant danger trying to retrieve arrows from the field of battle.

The Icarii concentrated their attacks on one section of the Skraeling mass, shooting dead as many - if not all - as they could. Then, as the remaining Skraelings fled the area, the Icarii swept to the ground, retrieving as many of their arrows as they could, then soared skywards before the Skraelings could regroup. But this was dangerous, very dangerous, for both SkraeBolds and Gryphon learned quickly to await that moment when a significant number of the Icarii had landed, their eyes to the ground searching for arrows among the disintegrating Skraeling wraiths, and then launch an attack. The Icarii had to divide their number between those on the ground and those remaining in the air, protecting their comrades below.

Ho'Demi did what he could to supply the Icarii with new arrows. The stores in Jervois Landing had good supplies which weren't used much because of the lack of archers there. Increasingly, the Ravensbundmen stole from Borne-held to supply the Icarii. Through the eagle, Ho'Demi would let the Icarii know when he could supply them with more arrows and a clandestine meeting would take place perhaps a half a league to the east of Jervois Landing. Again, when and if Borneheld discovered what was going on, Ho'Demi and his men would risk death.

While it sometimes seemed to the Icarii they made little appreciable difference - for every Skraeling shot another three crawled into view - it only took a few days for the men on the ground to realise how much they owed the Strike Force. After ten days of the Icarii presence, not even Borne-held could deny that the Icarii were making a difference. The Skraeling pressure on the defence lines eased and then noticeably weakened. The number of Ice Worms reaching the canals was halved, and then halved again and, unbelievably by the third week, halved once more. Soon only a handful per day were creeping across the canals. They dropped from being a certain disaster to being a worrisome nuisance.

Unit commanders along the lines were finally able to relieve their men, sending them back to the town for a day or two of rest. Those left on the lines still had to fight, for the Icarii could not stop thousands of Skraelings whispering their way to meet the swords and pikes of the defenders, but they did not have to ght so hard or so long.

And, in the longer and more frequent rest breaks, men continued to talk - although all were wary of talking about the birdmen before unit commanders.

Over several weeks the Acharites not only learned of the Icarii, they had the time to observe them as well. Some of the Acharites began to wonder if the Forbidden were quite as forbidding as the Seneschal had always claimed. Could Artor match anything that the Star Dance had to offer? And what of the Wars of the Axe, that had so cruelly driven the Icarii from these lands? Why should the Icarii help Jervois Landing when the Acharites had treated them so poorly in the past?

As the year stretched into Raven-month, men dared to believe that Jervois Landing would hold. Slowly, achingly slowly, the tide of the Skraelings was lessening as their numbers were decimated by Icarii arrows. Most Acharites who were prepared to be honest with themselves knew that they owed their lives to the Icarii.

After a thousand years, and despite the lingering hatreds of the Wars of the Axe, Icarii and Acharite again shared common purpose.

During the weeks the Strike Force spent fighting above Jervois Landing, life in Sigholt was almost entirely geared about supporting them. A significant number of the people who had fled Skarabost to Sigholt put themselves at the disposal of the Icarii, cleaning their gear and weapons, refletching worn arrows and fletching new ones, cooking and carrying for the Strike Force so that the Icarii could simply rest while they were in Sigholt. The Icarii were grateful, and they showed it. Many among the Strike Force spent hours each day playing with the young children of the Acharites, letting them finger and exclaim over their Icarii wings and telling them stories of old Tencendor and of Icarii legends. On several occasions when a parent, heart in mouth, permitted it, one of the Icarii would take a small child for a short flight over Sigholt and the Lake of Life.

Soon children prattled to their parents at night about such remarkable places as the Star Gate or even the lost Island of Mist and Memory. The singing of the Icarii generally, and of the Enchanters especially, fascinated all, and at least once or twice a week an Icarii Enchanter would be invited to eat with a group of the Acharites in return for an hour of Song about the fire in the evening. At that Axis had to smile. He had never thought the Icarii would enjoy eating and sharing their evenings with Acharite peasants, but apparently the Icarii were finding that many of their age-old beliefs about the Acharites were as false as the Acharites'

beliefs about them. It gave Axis hope for the Tencendor he wanted to create.

The music of the Star Dance filtered through and about all at Sigholt and sometimes when Axis lay half asleep in his bed he could hear in the Star Dance the faint echoes of the thousands of heartbeats of those in and about Sigholt.

The Urqhart Hills were relatively safe now. No more Skraelings had appeared in the WildDog Plains, and none ventured near the western extremities of the hills. The mounted force at Sigholt still trained, as well as continuing its patrols.

Azhure began to take a more active role in the force, leading several two- and three-day patrols through the Hills. She simply secured Caelum in a sling on her back next to her quiver of arrows, and rode Venator out of Sigholt. Belial had opened his mouth to remonstrate with her the first morning he'd seen her, but she just stared at him with cold, flat eyes, and he'd subsided.

Azhure was delighted with her new horse. Venator was smaller than Belaguez, and more finely boned, but faster and more manoeuvrable because of it. He also had intelligence, courage and spirit, and Azhure found it very easy to train him to her specific needs. He responded to voice and knee commands alone, as Azhure needed when she had to fight with the Wolven, and had a graceful and fluid gait that allowed Azhure to shoot without worrying about being jolted.

On the first day when Azhure took a patrol out, leading a supply train into the south-western Urqhart Hills to the Icarii Strike Force camp there, Axis stood on the roof of Sigholt watching her go and trying to suppress qualms about Caelum's safety. Azhure kicked Venator into a canter as they left the bridge, Caelum and the Wolven secured to her back and the pack of Alaunt surrounding her dancing red stallion. Despite his lingering worries, a small smile lifted the corners of Axis' mouth. Azhure was not only a highly competent commander, but an extraordinarily unusual woman. Just a year and some few months ago she had been the outcast peasant daughter of the Plough-Keeper of the village of Smyrton. Now here she was, the mother of his son, a commander within his army, riding patrol with the Wolven and the Alaunt. With WolfStar's bow and with WolfStar's hounds.

Axis shook himself. He could almost feel MorningStar by his side. Azhure could not be WolfStar, could not be the traitor within his camp.

But doubt niggled at him. Was it just a coincidence that the Gryphon had found SpikeFeather's Wing? Azhure had known about that flight, would have known where they could be found.

"Dammit!" Axis cursed as he turned away from the parapets. Any one of two dozen people close to the inner command of his force would have known where that Wing was.

And it could have simply been coincidence. The Gryphon were flying south to attack Jervois Landing. Had, unfortunately for the Icarii, come across SpikeFeather's Wing flying home into the sun, blinded and unaware.

As Axis thought on the Gryphon attack a memory crashed through his consciousness. Azhure, smiling, easy and graceful, wandering along the narrow rock ledge of Talon Spike. Surely only one of Icarii blood could have walked that ledge, a thousand pace drop at her feet, with such ease and confidence?

It could not be her, could not be. Stars! Didn't she have the perfect opportunity each and every night to slip a knife into his back if she wanted to?

No. Axis knew that it could not be Azhure. She had too much compassion and love within her to be WolfStar. And she had been born and had grown to maturity in Smyrton. She had no opportunity to teach either Axis or Gorgrael.

His good humour gone now, Axis stared at the spreading town about the Lake of Life. Many of the Acharites who had journeyed to his cause had been here almost seven months now. Originally they'd camped in tents about the Lake, but over the past months they had organised gangs to reopen an old quarry half a league into the northern Urqhart Hills, and now well-constructed stone buildings were beginning to appear - with a singular lack of imagination, the inhabitants had named the town Lakesview. Axis, when he realised that the Acharites were building in stone, had insisted upon proper planning, and from his vantage point Axis could see the well-laid-out blocks of buildings, with large gardens for each house, and the straight and wide streets. They were, Axis realised, building a new life here. Most of the refugees he had talked to in recent weeks had shown no interest in returning to Skarabost. Why, they had queried, when these hills are blooming about this warm lake even in the depths of winter and we can grow enough food and raise enough stock to feed ourselves and our children. Axis wondered if, in centuries past, Sigholt had previously had a town about the skirts of the Lake. Many of the builders had dug up old foundations.

Perhaps they were simply rebuilding another part of Sigholt which had died when the Lake was drained.

Calmed by his contemplation of the growing town, Axis rested his hands on the parapets and turned his mind to the snow eagle, far away, soaring above Jervois Landing. What did Ho'Demi have to report this day?

When Borneheld finally found out how far knowledge of the Icarii had spread through Jervois Landing, he lost control of himself so badly that Gautier and Roland thought he would strangle the soldier he'd overheard talking about the Icarii.

"Who told you of these foul creatures!" he roared, shaking the man so badly his helmet fell off. "The Coroleans, Sire," the man stammered. Borneheld eventually let him go, and the man scrambled out of reach.

"How would the Corolean soldiers know of the cursed Forbidden?" Borneheld growled to Gautier and Roland.

Roland, tired, ill and dispirited, simply shrugged. He hardly cared any more.

All he wanted was to die honourably, somewhere far away from Jervois Landing.

He did not like it here. And he no longer respected Borneheld. He was not a King who Roland wanted to lay down his life for. He often wondered if he should have left with Magariz, back at Gorkenfort. Surely Magariz had made the right choice.