Annwin's eyes glittered with anger. "Child's lies, I do not -"

Axis broke in. "And Faraday also has her part to play. She is beloved of the Sentinels, and of Avar, the People of the Horn. The Horned Ones who wander the Sacred Groves, the magical glades of the Avar, consider her their Friend."

Annwin's eyes widened. "Faraday?" she stuttered. "Faraday is caught up in this?"

"Yes, but don't tell Borneheld. I don't think he would take it very well."

Annwin was quiet a very long time. "Faraday is Queen," she said finally, "in Carlon. She is not happy married to Borneheld. Do you march to Carlon?"

Axis nodded.

"Will you free her from Borneheld, Axis?"

"I will marry her, Annwin, when I take the throne of Achar," he said. "It is all I have ever wanted." And the Stars forgive me for that lie, he thought to himself.

But for so many months it was all I thought that I would ever want.

"Ah," Annwin breathed, her eyes glistening. "So."

"Annwin, I wonder if I might sit awhile in Faraday's room."

Surprised by the request, Annwin simply nodded. "Come. I will show you."

Axis sat a long time in the simple room which had been Faraday's as a child.

Here, surrounded by her memories, he could finally think about her without the deep guilt over his betrayal of her love making him shove all thought of her to one side.

He hummed the Song of Recall, and watched as glimpses of Faraday as a young child, growing to maturity and beauty, flickered before his eyes. He smiled. She had been an awkward child, her hair carroty, her face long and freckled. But she had been joyous and giving, qualities she had not lost as she transformed through girlhood into the beauty she was now. There were numerous childish disappointments and frustrations. The loss of a beloved cat. A storm that ruined a picnic. Her mother's gentle chidings at selfish tempers. But happy memories predominated. Faraday had grown to womanhood in this room contented and loved.

Axis had not lied when he told Azhure he loved her. But did his love for Azhure undermine what he felt for Faraday?

Or did the two simply exist side by side? Was he, poor fool, in love with two women? Both so different that he could love one of them without compromising his love for the other?

"Yet I have never told Faraday that I loved her," Axis said aloud, seeking excuses for his behaviour. "So perhaps she assumes too much in thinking that I do."

He had never told Faraday he loved her. That was true. He had said many things to Faraday, he had intimated that perhaps he loved her, but he had never actually spoken the words.

"And she was the one who chose to run away at the Ancient Barrows, fleeing to Borneheld's side and marrying him," Axis reasoned aloud. "How then could she expect me to wander chaste and desolate through the rest of my life?"

Axis sat on Faraday's virginal bed a long time, voicing soft excuses for his behaviour through the room, until finally his eyes fell on a soft rag doll, lying legs and arms akimbo on the floor. It reminded him of everything Faraday had gone through. She had been pushed and manipulated by so many - by Isend, by the Sentinels, by the Prophecy itself, even by Raum, and certainly by himself, that she had almost no control over her own life. Like the rag doll, Faraday lay lost and forgotten in Carlon, waiting only for some other force to come along and fling her about according to its will.

"You bastard," Axis whispered to himself. "How can you try to justify the way you have betrayed Faraday?"

But the fact remained; Axis could not right the wrong he had done Faraday by removing Azhure from his life. He loved both, in totally different ways, and he would have both.

And both would have to learn to accept it.

He sighed and stood up. Perhaps coming here had not been such a good idea after all. It had only gnawed at his conscience, and Axis had so many things to worry about now he did not need a wounded conscience to cope with as well.

"Faraday," he murmured as he picked up the rag doll and sat it straight and comfortable on a chair.

CarlonBorneheld stared out the window of his private apartments in the palace at Carlon, refusing to look Jayme in the face.

The Brother-Leader was furious and did not bother to hide it. What was the use of assisting this...this oaf to the throne if all he could do was sit still and lose almost half the nation to Axis?

"He has captured Skarabost," Jayme fumed, his normally implacable face strained and lined with anger. "And is moving down towards the Bracken Ranges. Arcness and Taran-taise wall fall next. And you just sit there and say 'let him'?"

Borneheld took a deep breath and watched a crow circle high above the walls of Carlon. If he ignored Jayme for long enough the man might simply go away. Borneheld was beginning to get very, very irritated with this bothersome priest. He had been King almost a year now, and the Seneschal's dark manipulations which had seen him gain the throne seemed very far in the past.

The world had changed. Power had shifted away from the Seneschal. Perhaps Jayme did not yet realise that.

"I sit here and say 'let him'," Borneheld suddenly snapped, "because I have no other Artor-forsaken choice!

"I have been fighting across Ichtar and the north of Aldeni for more months than I care to remember, Jayme, while you have sat here like a spider in your web, pulling people each and every way you want them to go. You think you understand what lies at risk here? What issues are at stake? Forgive me, Brother-Leader, but I did not see you walking the battlements of Gorkenfort as Ichtar collapsed about me. I have not seen you trudging ankle-deep through mud and sludge in the trenches at Jervois Landing as Skraelings surged down from the north. You have NO idea of what it is like to command an army that is half dead from fatigue and sad-heartednessl"

Jayme did not flinch as Borneheld surged from his chair and shouted in his face. The old man stood straight and tall, his robes of office hanging in thick blue folds about him, a jewelled sign of the Plough hanging from a heavy golden chain about his neck. "No, I was not there to watch you lose Gorkenfort," Jayme said, "and I was not there to watch you let the Forbidden chase the Skraelings back from Jervois Landing. I understand you lost close to half your army when the Ravensbund savages packed up and left one night, Borneheld? Forgive me, but I would have made sure that ample watch was kept over such savages."

Borneheld's hands clenched at his sides and he kept himself from hitting the Brother-Leader only through a supreme effort. "The Ravensbundmen accounted for only a third of my forces," he hissed, "and I had posted a guard. But the Ravensbund have lived too close to the Forbidden for too many years, and undoubtedly used enchantments to slip past the encircling troops."

"Then if you still have some twenty thousand men, Borneheld, it does not explain to me why you keep them fat and idle in Carlon while Axis swings south and west. Surely an army is to be used. Or do you enjoy watching the Forbidden swarm back over the territories that the Seneschal won for you a thousand years ago?"

Now Jayme's temper was re-emerging. What was Borneheld thinking of to let Axis get away with so much? Jayme didn't care that Gilbert had counselled Borneheld to move his army to Carlon. All he wanted was Axis stopped.

"I cannot risk abandoning Carlon to Axis," Borneheld said, "which is exactly what I will do if I ride off to the east without a clear idea of where the bastard is.

Axis will come here eventually. He has to, if he still thinks to seize the throne from me. So," Borneheld lowered himself back into his chair, "I shall sit here and wait for him. When Axis arrives, his troops shall be tired and battle-wearied, nursing blisters on their feet and a dozen small wounds each from the battles they have fought to win their way this far. I, meantime, will await them with troops rested and refreshed."

Jayme slowly shook his head, staring at Borneheld. He had thought, as had Moryson, that Borneheld represented the Seneschal's best chance of survival.

How was the Seneschal going to survive if Axis thundered at the head of an army across the Plains of Tare towards the Tower of the Seneschal?

"Need I remind you, Borneheld, that the Tower of the Seneschal rests on the far side of the Grail Lake? Axis will decimate the Brotherhood before you can rally your army to the front gates of the city."

"Well, it shouldn't worry you" Borneheld said. "You spend most of your time here in the palace, anyway. You and your two advisers. But rest easy. I shall meet Axis on the Plains of Tare well before he approaches your white-walled tower."

Jayme tried to collect his thoughts. Everything was going so badly. He remembered the time, so long ago now, it seemed, when he had first heard rumours of trouble to the north, of strange ghost-like creatures who nibbled and chewed fully armoured men to death in minutes. How could he have foretold then the disasters that would envelop Achar? Ichtar was gone, lost to Gorgrael.

Soon everything east of the Nordra would be gone, lost to the Forbidden and the one who led them. And what did that leave? A relatively narrow strip of land to the west of the Nordra? A pink and gold city?

"At night, Borneheld," Jayme said softly, "I can hear the weeping souls of those poor tormented wretches who have been overwhelmed by Axis and the hordes of Forbidden that he directs. Do you know what he does to them, Borneheld? Do you know the pain the poor wretches of Skarabost have suffered as that wretched army overwhelms village after village? Children are sacrificed for the plunders of those flying vermin he calls friends. Women are forced to yield their bodies, then their lives. Men watch their families die, then are gutted and strung up from poles and doorframes by their bowels, to die themselves from pain and shock and loss. Does that not concern you, Borneheld? How can you sit here and say 'Let him come'? Artor alone will judge you on this."

Borneheld fidgeted nervously. He'd been having nightmares since he returned to Carlon. He dreamed that anonymous, pale hands held out the ensorcelled chalice for him, whispering entreaties to him to drink. He dreamed of wandering the halls and chambers of the palace, the whispers and laughter of the court following him.

And he dreamed of a stern-faced woman, black-haired and raven-eyed, who sat at a counting table, two bowls before her, a gleaming rectangle of light behind her. She raised her eyes as he approached, laughing as she recognised him. "I await your presence before my table, Borneheld, Duke of Ichtar."

In vain would he protest that he was Duke of Ichtar no longer, but King of Achar. "Your blood names you a Duke of Ichtar, Borneheld," she whispered. "And your blood condemns you. Your death approaches from the east. Watch for it."

Borneheld fidgeted and looked out the window, fancying he could see Artor staring at him from the massed clouds sliding down from the north.

Faraday sat, half asleep, as Yr brushed her hair out. Unlike Borneheld and Jayme, Faraday regarded the slow approach of Axis and his army as a gift. A gift from the Mother, for Faraday had long since abandoned Artor and his cruel and shallow ways. Each day brought fresh rumours from the streets of Carlon. Axis had won through to Arcness in a battle deserving of the gods in the Bracken Ranges. Axis and his army had been penned up in an isolated glen high in the Bracken Ranges and had fallen into a mighty lake and drowned - Faraday had smiled when she heard that one. Axis and his army had proclaimed a new land and a new nation in Skarabost. Had he proclaimed Ten cendor so soon? Faraday had thought Axis would wait until he reached Carlon, until he reached her, before he would do that. Yr heard most of the rumours from the captain of the guards, a darkly virile man. She also heard most of the facts - or as much of facts as anyone in Carlon could get - about Axis' drive south through Skarabost.

"And of what do you think, my sweet?" Yr murmured as she brushed Faraday's burnished gold hair out with long and languid strokes.

"You know perfectly well that I think of Axis, Yr. It is rare that I think of anything else these days."

Borneheld had returned to Carlon a month ago. On his arrival he had granted Faraday an audience, relieved her of most of her court duties, completely disregarding the fact that Faraday had virtually run Achar while he had been ensconced in Jervois Landing fighting the Skraelings, briefly inquired after her health, and then dismissed her. He had not required Faraday's presence in his bed, and Faraday had heard that he had taken a mistress - none other than the blowsy woman who had accompanied her father, Isend, to court.

Freed from most of her onerous court duties and Borne-held's attentions, Faraday now had her time almost exclusively to herself, and she used it to good purpose, spending the larger part of most days in the glorious garden of Ur or wandering entranced through the enchanted forests that spiralled out from the Sacred Grove. Each time she wandered them she found different things - a new glade she had not seen previously, a creature that was more impossibly beautiful than any other she had met before, a mountain more mysterious and fascinating than the rest. But always she ended up at the gate to Ur s garden, and the woman would emerge from her cottage, or wave at her from her sunny garden seat, and Faraday would smile and enter and begin another lesson.

Lessons with Ur mainly consisted of learning the names and histories of the tens of thousands of Banes represented by the tree seedlings gently swaying in their tiny terracotta pots. Ur would pick up a pot, hand it to Faraday, and tell her of the Bane who had transformed into this tree.

Faraday found that as she listened to Ur speak, as she murmured the Bane's name to herself, she formed a bond, a friendship, with the seedling. As she would never forget the name or the history of a friend, Faraday knew she would never forget the name and the past of each of these seedlings as she heard them from Ur's lips. It did not matter that there were some forty-two thousand of them.

They were magical hours, the hours spent with Ur in the garden nursery of the enchanted woods, hours when Faraday was healed of so much of the pain that she had suffered, and given the strength to survive so much of the pain she had yet to endure.

Raum whimpered behind his hood as he rode his wagon south with Axis. It was all he could do not to cry out loud, and that he managed to keep even mildly sane was due to the support of the three Sentinels who often sat by his side.

Each bent what power he had to aid Raum through this transformation that it seemed would take months instead of weeks. And it was taking place so far from the Avarinheim. What would happen, Raum worried, if he transformed completely while so far from the shaded walks of the trees? So far from the Mother, from Fernbrake Lake? Would he wither and die under the unremitting sun and wind of the Seagrass Plains?

"Why me?" he had whispered one day when the pain had finally ceased, when Faraday had finally left the Sacred Grove. "Why am I tied to her like this?

Why do I transform only when she uses her power?"

It was Jack who answered. "You were the one who bonded her to the Mother, Raum. And she was the one who renewed your bonds with the Mother.

Perhaps that is what binds you, why you are so tied to her power."

Raum shrugged inside his cloak. His face was now so misshapen that he kept it hidden. Axis often sat by his side at night, soothing him to sleep with his harp and his enchanted music. But very little could soothe Raum through this dreadful transformation.

Faraday was not unaware of Raum's pain. She sensed it every time she used her power to enter the Sacred Grove and the enchanted forests that surrounded it.

Sometimes Faraday wandered the enchanted forest, feeling Raum's pain, knowing that he was transforming, wishing she could help him. She asked the Horned Ones what would happen to Raum, what she could do to help.

"Nothing," the silver pelt answered. "Nothing. Raum's transformation is different because of the bond between you, and because your grasp of the power of the Mother and of these woods is so great. What can you do to help?

Wait until Raum manages to find the Avarinheim again, or one of the surviving remnants beyond what remains of the forest. Wait until Raum is ready to step into the Sacred Grove, wait until he is ready to complete the transformation - then pull him here with all your power, help him with every ounce of your strength. Raum cannot reach you until he reaches the power of the trees, and he is currently far from any trees that can help him. Wait. Watch."

Faraday turned away, grieving for Raum, but knowing there was not much she could do for him. She knew he was trying to find her, and she hoped for his sake that he would not take too long.

Faraday did not now need the enchanted bowl to move between this world and the Sacred Grove. Her command of her power had increased to the point where she could simply will herself into the emerald light that led to the Sacred Grove. She did not know what to do with the bowl. She had suggested to the Horned Ones that she give it back to them.

"You will find a use for it, Faraday," they had counselled. "Keep it."

So she had kept it, pleased that she did not have to give it back, and it now sat on the dresser in her chamber. To any ordinary eye it simply looked like a rather plain wooden bowl, hardly fit for a Queen, but it daily reminded Faraday not only of the enormous task that awaited her, but of the comfort the bowl and the Mother had given her in days past.

She smiled atYr as she put the brush down. "Axis comes, Yr. I can feel it. In a few short months he will be here. Oh, Yr, I can hardly wait until we are together!"

Axis' Salutary Lesson In the dark hours before dawn the Icarii Strike Force had lifted off. Burdel's men were entrenched themselves in the steep, rocky passes of the Bracken Ranges, and nothing save an airborne force could dislodge them without massive loss of life.

But this was a battle Axis was highly uneasy over. It was too likely to reopen old wounds and old hatreds. Axis loathed having to set the Icarii Strike Force on humans. He had wanted to use them as little as he could, hoping that the Acharites would the more easily accept the Icarii if they did not perceive them as an invading force. This battle was a risk, but it was a risk Axis had been forced to take. The Icarii were the only ones who could effectively clear the slopes of the Bracken Ranges with minimal losses.

Now Axis paced back and forth, his blood-red cloak wrapped about him.

Every three or four strides he looked up at the Bracken Ranges rising in the rapidly lightening sky. He knew what was happening in the narrow passes of the Ranges, for the eagle circled high overhead.

"Well?" Belial's face was almost as strained as Axis'. Axis blinked, cleared his vision, and stared at Belial. "It goes well. Burdel's force had no idea what was attacking them when the Icarii sent down their first volley of arrows. They could not see, and simply shot blindly into the sky."

"Casualties?" Magariz asked.

"Five Icarii have taken arrows in the wings and are limping their way home or are safe among the ridges. The others evaded well. The casualties are all on Burdel's side. I think," Axis' eyes assumed a dreamy quality, and Belial and Magariz knew he was seeing through the eagle's eyes again, "that Burdel is pulling his men out as fast as he can. The passes will be clear for us by noon."

"Pulling back to Arcen?" Belial queried. "Undoubtedly." Axis shrugged. "We will not be able to catch them. It will take at least a day to get this army moving into the lower Ranges, and several days to get through. What remains of Burdel's force is more lightly armoured and much more mobile. He will be able to race to Arcen and slam the gates shut well before we're through the Ranges."

Arcen was Burdel's capital in Arcness. It lay some ten leagues south of the Ranges, surrounded by the grazing lands of the province.

"A siege then," Magariz remarked.

Axis sighed. "Yes, a siege." Axis had ridden through Arcen on his way north to Smyrton almost two years earlier. The city had high walls, thick battlements and a good militia.

Axis knew he had to be very, very careful with Arcen. Sieges always tended to drag out over months, and Axis could not afford to encamp himself and his army outside Arcen for the next six months. Neither could he afford to ride by and open his rear to possible attack from Burdel sometime in the future. Arcen would have to be conquered.

Azhure walked up. "Can you send the Strike Force after Burdel as he flees across the plains towards Arcen?"

Axis glanced at her. Azhure had left Caelum with Rivkah in the camp and walked only with Sicarius as company. She looked slim and fit in her grey and white uniform, the Wolven slung over her shoulder, her hair tied back into a plait rolled in the nape of her neck.

In the two weeks since Axis had visited Faraday's childhood home relations between him and Azhure had been, if not cool, then slightly businesslike. Even their lovemaking, on those few nights when there had been the time or the privacy, had lacked the usual laughter and had become intense, almost fierce.

Both felt Faraday's closing presence keenly.

"No." Axis turned back to the Ranges. "Most of the Strike Force are too tired.

They have been on the wing for close to five hours now, and I want them to remain above the passes to watch for stray remnants of Burdel's force. To send them flying after Burdel as he flees across the plains towards his home base would drive them dangerously close to exhaustion." And expose them to the watching eyes and itchy tongues of countless peasants and townsfolk, Axis thought. The last thing he wanted was to have half the population of Arcness watch as the Icarii rained death down on Burdel. It would simply confirm their worst fears about the Forbidden and the Seneschal's teachings.

"No," he repeated, contemplating the siege ahead. "Let's go. By the time we get this army on the move the Strike Force should have cleared the passes."

He forced the problem of the siege to the back of his mind and smiled at Azhure.

"Come," he took her hand, "we have a pleasant ride through the hills before us."

"You did well, FarSight," Axis said, reining Belaguez to a halt before the exhausted birdman. Most of the Strike Force were now on the ground in the passes, although several dozen circled far overhead, keeping a watch over Burdel's retreat. It was early afternoon, and the Icarii had been flying and fighting for almost twelve hours.

FarSight looked up. His dark face was lined and there were pouches of weariness under his eyes, but the expression on his face was one of quiet pride.

His force had done a fine job, and he knew it. That dark day in Talon Spike when Axis had painfully outlined each and every flaw within the Icarii Strike Force seemed several lifetimes ago. FarSight now headed an elite fighting force.

"BurdeFs men did not fight well, but they fought tenaciously. It took an hour longer than I had calculated to flush them out of their rocks."