"Ho'Demi seemed to know of these, ah, Forbidden," Gautier said. His own ambitions kept Gautier completely loyal to Borneheld. "Sire, the Ravensbundmen come from a land that borders with the Icescarp Alps. I would lay ten to one they are the source of these rumours and lies which sweep Jervois Landing."

Borneheld stared at Gautier. By Artor, the man was right! "Then I rest responsibility for the suppression of these lies in your hands, Gautier. Flush out the traitors within our midst who spread these lies. Then we can deal with them appropriately. Report back to me this afternoon - with results."

"Yes, Sire." Gautier bowed deeply, saluted, and, turning on his heel, stalked off. Both Roland and Borneheld watched him go, but both were thinking very different thoughts.

Gautier had not reached his present position without a good deal of cunning.

Disguising himself in the thick cloak and scarf of a peasant, and moving from camp fire to camp fire on the pretence of looking for a loose horse, it did not take Gautier very long to discover a traitor or two. At the fifth camp fire he visited, Gautier discovered three Ravensbundmen talking animatedly about the Prophecy of the Destroyer and the StarMan to a group of wide-eyed Acharite and Corolean soldiers.

They were arrested, disarmed and bound before being marched back to the town of Jervois Landing to face the King.

The three Ravensbundmen stared silently at Borneheld. None of them showed any emotion, nor, for that matter, any discomfort at their tight bonds.

They simply stared, hostile black eyes in blue-lined faces, each with the naked circle in the centre of his forehead.

"Do you speak of my bastard brother as the StarMan?" Borneheld finally asked.

Arhat, the oldest of the Ravensbund warriors present, nodded curtly. "We do, King Borneheld."

Borneheld took a deep breath. These men would die for their insolence and their treachery. "And you spread lies about the flying filth that drives the Skraelings down to slaughter the good people of Achar?"

"The Icarii have turned the tide of the Skraelings," Arhat replied. "Jervois Landing would have fallen and the Skraelings flooded through Achar now but for the Icarii Strike Force."

"They are filth!" Borneheld shouted, stamping about the room. "How dare you refer to the cursed lizards as though they deserved honour!"

"They do deserve honour, Borneheld," said Funado, the youngest Ravensbund warrior present, "for they have saved your kingdom. Once more the Icarii fly to aid the Acharites. Whether they deserve it or not."

All three knew they were dead. But they would die serving the Prophecy, and with that knowledge all the pride of their ancient race shone from their faces.

It was that as much as Funado's words which pushed Borneheld over the edge of anger into outright fury.

"Gautier!" he screamed. "Erect three crosses on the edge of town and crucify them! Then fetch me their traitorous leader. We shall see where his loyalty to the Forbidden gets him now!"

"It will be my pleasure," Gautier said, "to make an example of these three."

Ho'Demi sat his horse before the three crosses, his face masked as if with stone.

He had been summoned from the forward lines where he was supervising the defence against a particularly nasty Skrae-ling attack. He had cursed as the soldier gave him Borne-held's message, "Meet me on the western edge of Jervois Landing. Now." Did the King think Ho'Demi was simply enjoying a late afternoon stroll out here among the canals?

But he had gone, and now he saw the fruits of Borne-held's suspicion. Three of his men hung dead from crosses, and it was evident that they had not died easily or fast.

"They spread treacheries," Borneheld seethed atop his horse at Ho'Demi's side. "Lies! About the Forbidden! I will not have it."

"No," Ho'Demi whispered, not shifting his eyes from the sight in front of him.

"Their infections spread about Jervois Landing. Soon all will believe the lie that the Forbidden fly to our aid instead of flying to seek our destruction."

"No," Ho'Demi said again, but Borneheld did not hear him. At the foot of the crosses Gautier strolled, a pike in his hands, prodding the naked bodies to see if any spark of life remained within them. Frustrated, Gautier used the iron tip of the pike to slice open the last warrior's gut. "No," Ho'Demi said yet again, very, very softly. "Dead," Gautier announced, "and not before time." He tossed the pike to one side and remounted his horse.

By the great Icebear herself, Ho'Demi swore silendy, I will have your life for this treachery against the Prophecy and against the lives of three true men.

"I suspect treachery in this, Ho'Demi!" Borneheld suddenly hissed by his side. "I suspect you of treason, Ho'Demi."

Ho'Demi dragged his stare away from the three dead and looked at Borneheld. "I have committed no treachery, Borneheld."

Borneheld's lips thinned and the heavy features of his face reddened. "You promised me, Ravensbund savage, that you would be true. You swore that you would not prove traitorous!"

"And I have remained true, Borneheld. I have not proved a traitor to my oath." And my oath and my loyalty was always to the Prophecy, Borneheld, and only to you so long as you acted to serve the Prophecy. With this action, you have shown yourself the traitor.

Borneheld could not believe what he was hearing. Would this barbarian continue to lie? "Order your men back from the lines of defence, Ho'Demi. Order them back to your camp. I no longer need your 'help' in defending Achar!"

And that at least is true, thought Ho'Demi cynically, now that the Icarii have stemmed the flood of the wraiths for you.

You can hold this line with your own men and your mercenaries. You no longer need us.

But he inclined his head politely. "As you wish, Borne-held. The Ravensbundmen will return to our camp."

He glanced once more at the bodies hanging from their crosses, then turned his horse and nudged it into a canter.

Roland, sitting his horse behind Borneheld and Gautier, swung after Ho'Demi. "I will make sure he does it, Sire," he called as he spurred his horse after the Ravensbund chief.

Gautier looked at Borneheld anxiously. "Sire, what can we do about the Ravensbundmen? Even though many have died fighting the Skraelings, they are still too many for us to either guard or otherwise dispose of."

"This evening, late, eight river transports of Corolean soldiers land, Gautier.

Their first duty? To surround and attack the Ravensbund camp at dawn tomorrow. The Ravensbundmen will not move against us before then, for they be hampered by the number of women and children in their camp. Soon we will be rid once and for all of these savages."

Borneheld woke before dawn the next morning, intending to lead the raid and slaughter of the Ravensbund people himself. As he rolled out of his bed and struggled into his armour in the dark, cursing when he caught his thick fingers in the buckles, Borneheld suddenly realised that there was something strange about the morning. Something missing.

He paused, half dressed, and angrily shushed the young girl in his bed as she muttered sleepily. He stood for a long moment, then, suddenly, horrifyingly, realised what waswrong.

The morning was completely silent. There were no bells, no chimes.

When he reached the Ravensbund camp site a half-hour later it was to discover that the newly arrived Corolean mercenaries had the site completely ringed. Completely, uselessly ringed, for the site was utterly bare. Everything had gone. The tents and their chimes. The horses and their chimes. Every last one of the Ravensbund people and their Artor-forsaken chimesl Even, as Borneheld would shortly discover, the three bodies from the crosses had gone.

"What?" he spluttered, turning to an equally wan-faced Gautier. "How?" Gautier simply stood and shook his head slowly, unable to speak for several minutes. "The Coroleans ringed the camp late last night, Sire. It - and the Ravensbund people - was there then. But this morning, when we moved in...gone ..." He shook his head again. How could they have disappeared so silently, so completely?

Back in Jervois Landing Jorge, as he did every morning, checked his friend's bed to make sure he was still alive.

Roland had disappeared.

The Skraeling Nest It will work! I know it can!" Azhure s eyes were.bright with conviction. "You have heard the Icarii flight reports!"

Axis glanced at Belial and Magariz - FarSight was still with the final Crests in the southern Urqhart Hills and would not be back at Sigholt for a week or more.

Since the Ravensbundmen had disappeared from Jervois Landing Axis had cut back on the Icarii support for Borne-held. They had done enough. The Skraelings had been severely curtailed and most of the Ice Worms destroyed.

With his Corolean mercenaries, Borneheld still had almost eighteen thousand at Jervois Landing to man his defences. Axis believed Gorgrael had reached his limits for this winter campaign. It was the first week in Hungry-month, the last month of winter. Spring would shortly be here, and with it, promises would have to be fulfilled further south in Achar. But now Azhure had conceived of a final strike against the Skraelings.

"I'm not sure, Axis," Belial said, avoiding Azhure's stare. "Is it worth the effort?"

"Worth the effort?" Azhure cried. "What do you mean, worth the effort? You have heard the Icarii reports, Belial. This would be our best chance yet to attack Hsingard."

Over the past several weeks, as Crests of Icarii had flown between Jervois Landing and Sigholt, many of them had passed over the ruins of the former capital of Ichtar, Hsingard. Once-proud Hsingard now lay in ruins, torn to rubble by the wraiths and the Ice Worms. The Skraelings were using its rubble as shelter, possibly even as their base.

Azhure turned back to Axis. "We might even find a SkraeBold there, Axis. Or the nest of the Gryphon pack. It is worth the effort!"

"Azhure." Magariz, quiet until now, stepped forward. "Hsingard is a large place. There is no way that a small force like ours could cover the entire city - and the place is now nothing but rubble! It would be a trap! Axis, I beg of you, remember Gorkentown."

Axis' face froze. "But this time we would be die attacking force, and the Skraelings would not be expecting us. We could do some damage."

"We could ride there in a day," Azhure argued. Hsingard was only some two leagues beyond die furthest reaches of the Lake of Life, but they would need a day for the attack because of die need to approach carefully and circumspectly, through die Urqhart Hills, instead of directly across die plain. "A day to attack, men less home. We could do it."

"There are not die numbers of Skraelings in Hsingard that diere used to be,"

Axis said slowly, thinking it dirough. "Most of die Skraelings are further south, making a last push against Jervois Landing. The Icarii have seen very litde activity among the ruins, even at night when the Skraelings are usually the most active. This could be our last chance to hit die main Skraeling base in Ichtar while both Borneheld and Skraelings are busy in Jervois Landing. I have to admit a fancy to see what it is die Skraelings have been doing in Hsingard." "We have the Alaunt," Azhure added. "They can both warn of impending attack and track within the rubble. Icarii scouts can keep watch overhead."

"Axis," Belial pleaded, "you cannot think of doing this! Leave well enough alone."

Axis looked up from the map in front of him. "I have sat on the rooftop of this Keep for the past month, Belial, and watched through the eyes of the eagle as the Icarii Strike Force saved Jervois Landing. I have done nothing but sit. / want to see some action, and this could be a good preparation for the mounted soldiers and archers before the summer campaign against Borneheld."

"They are already hardened," Belial snapped. "They do not have to be sent on some foolish mission to Hsingard to harden them further."

Azhure's mouth dropped open. Foolish? An opportunity to attack what could be the Skraeling main base while it was almost empty?

"Azhure," Axis said. "What force would you take?"

She didn't even have to think about it. "All six of my squads of archers, and two hundred mounted men -just over four hundred on the ground altogether.

One Crest of Icarii -I don't need that many for scouting purposes, but they need the safety of the numbers in case we rouse the Gryphon. And I take the Alaunt.

They can scout out the hiding places of the Skraelings among the rubble, and with four hundred men we can do some damage. We would strike during the day, when the Skraelings are the least active."

"Good," Axis said, before Belial objected again. "Azhure, you have command."

"What" Belial and Magariz exploded together.

A muscle in Axis' jaw jumped, the only sign that he was angry, and he looked past Belial at Azhure. "Of course, Azhure, if you don't feel that you are capable of it, I will assume command myself."

"I can do it," she said, meeting Axis' eyes steadily. She had not even allowed herself to think that Axis might give her command, but she knew she could lead this mission.

Belial spun about. "You don't know what you are doing, Azhure."

"I can do it, Belial," she said softly. "Do not worry for me or for the men I lead."

Axis watched Belial and Azhure carefully. He thought he understood why Belial had lost his temper. Axis suspected that Belial felt more for Azhure than simple comradeship, and that made him wonder what had happened in Sigholt in those months before he had arrived.

"Belial," Axis forced a light tone into his voice. "Do not concern yourself too much. I intend to ride along as support. Azhure should enjoy giving me orders for a change. You have overall command here in Sigholt. Magariz can back you up." "You are mad, Axis," Belial said tonelessly, "to risk yourself and your command for what is nothing more than a foolhardy adventure."

"Belial, I want to see what the Skraelings have been doing among the rubble of Hsingard. And I want the opportunity to skewer a few more of the wraiths."

Axis had sent the eagle over Hsingard on several occasions over the past weeks, and something strange was going on in the rubble. Axis glanced at Azhure. This mission would be a good test of her abilities.

"You leave Caelum behind, Azhure. This is no gentle patrol through the Urqhart Hills. He has Imibe to care for him." Imibe was one of the younger Ravensbundwomen. She had a baby herself and plenty of milk, and already helped Rivkah with the task of caring for Caelum when Azhure and Axis were both busy.

Although the sun had just risen, the clouds were so thick overhead that the light was grey and insubstantial. "Well?" Azhure demanded, her voice low. Her hair was pulled back from her face and braided tightly about the crown of her head. She wore the usual outfit of the SunSoar command, grey wool tunic with the blood-red sun, buttoned to her neck against the cold, and white breeches.

The Wolven was slung over her shoulder and two quivers of arrows hung down her back. Axis suspected she also had several knives secreted about her body.

Axis blinked and his eyes refocused. "There is no activity, Azhure ,** he replied. "The eagle sees nothing."

Azhure had kept the Icarii back from Hsingard, not wanting to give the Skraelings any hint of impending action.

"They must be buried in the rubble, gone to their nests," Azhure said. About her the Alaunt lay silent and watchful.

Axis watched her, waiting to see what she would do next. The force was hunched among the tumbled and deserted masonry of a once large and proud Retreat of the Seneschal near the outer ruins of Hsingard.

"They would surely be well within the ruins of the city," Azhure thought aloud. "Where they felt safe." She squinted, checking the piles of masonry that marked the fallen walls of Hsingard. "Axis use your Enchanter eyes or those of your eagle. Is that the roadway the map showed us to the north? Is it blocked with rubble, or will we be able to move down it?"

Few among the SunSoar command had ever been to Hsingard, and Azhure had been forced to rely on maps to learn the layout of the city and the position of its main buildings and squares. According to the map, this road should be one of the main avenues leading to the heart of die city.

Axis looked where she pointed, dien communed with the eagle. "The toad is strewn with rubble, especially as it nears the centre of Hsingard, but it will still be passable on foot."

Azhure nodded. "Good." She bent down and patted Sicarius, speaking to him quiedy. The great beast rose, four of his companions with him, and padded out of the ruins of the Retreat towards Hsingard.

Axis raised his eyebrows at Azhure.

"They go tq sniff out the first few blocks and the roadway," she said. "If they are clear, then I move the force across this open space."

After about ten minutes Axis spotted Sicarius trotting a short distance back out of the ruins. He sat down some five or six paces from the entrance to the roadway. Axis touched Azhure's shoulder and indicated the hound. "Good," she whispered. "It is clear. Come." She moved the force across to the outer ruins of Hsingard in groups of one hundred, waiting until each had reached the ruins safely and disappeared before sending the next group out.

Azhure led diem quiedy and as carefully as she could along the street. Most of the buildings were completely destroyed, occasional walls standing desolate and lonely against the grey sky, like the sad ruin of an old man's mouth. Great blocks of masonry lay tumbled and piled higgledy-piggledy, some strewn across the roadway, where Azhure s command had to climb over or around diem.

Hsingard appeared completely deserted and for the first half an hour of their silent penetration of the city they saw no-one. But Azhure took no chances. She kept all the members of the force to the side of the roadway, as much as she could among the shadows of the ruins. At regular intervals she signalled small groups of archers and swordsmen to wait crouched among die ruins, ready to guard their retreat. The hounds ranged before and beside them, silent, heads to the ground or deep among the tumbled piles, of masonry, serving - together with the eagle that still soared overhead -as an advance warning of attack.

Axis knew Azhure was on edge, worried that they had not yet found any Skraelings, concerned about where diey could be. But her anxiety was not making her impatient, or, conversely, too confident. Axis was impressed. She was doing well. He followed some ten or fifteen paces behind her, his sword drawn, his entire body ready to fight.

Suddenly the nearest Alaunt gave a gruff bark and Skraelings swarmed out of ground-level cracks. Almost before they could draw breath, Azhure and her command were engaged with the wraiths.

Because the Skraelings had wriggled out of cracks virtually underneath the feet of Azhure's force, the archers among them had no chance to loose a volley of arrows before both swordsmen and Skraelings were so intermixed that the archers risked killing their comrades as much as the Skraelings. But Azhure shouted to the archers to watch the ground, watch the cracks, and after the initial surprise, the archers were able to prevent larger numbers of the Skraelings from emerging from their underground holes.

The archers' rapid response gave the swordsmen the chance to deal with the initial rush of Skraelings without having to worry about being overwhelmed.

Perhaps some fifty or sixty managed to escape to attack the men, and that was not enough to cause them serious concern. With the help of the hounds, it took only a few short, sharp minutes of fighting before the Skraelings lay dead about the roadway. None of the swordsmen had been killed, although two were injured, and Azhure sent mem back to wait at the edge of the ruins with the men she had stationed there.

"DifTerent," Azhure remarked, bending to inspect one of the bodies of the Skraelings. The Skraelings had almost completely abandoned their wraith-like forms once they came through the cracks. They were fully fleshed, well muscled, and standing as a man. Their naked grey bodies were covered with tough leathery skin which had hardened over shoulders, joints and back into a bony armour, virtually impervious to a sword dirust. Their heads were encased in the same substance - their silvery eyes, once so huge and vulnerable, were now simply narrow slits behind bony protuberances.

As they watched, the Skraeling's body disintegrated into grey sludge.