Sara Douglass - The Axis Trilogy 3 - StarMan

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This book was scanned by JASC
If you correct any errors, please change the version number below (and in the file name) to a slightly
higher one e.g. from .9 to .95, or if major revisions to v. 2.0 etc..
Current e-book version is 1.5 (mostformatting errors have been corrected—some capitalization errors
still; semi proofed)
Comments, Questions, Requests(no promises):daytonascan4911@hotmail.com
DO NOT READ THIS BOOK OF YOU DO NOT OWN/POSSES THE PHYSICAL COPY.
THAT IS STEALING FROM THE AUTHOR.
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Book Information:
Genre: High/Epic Fantasy
Author: Sara Douglass
Name: StarMan
Series: Book Three ofThe Axis Trilogy
Extra Scan Info: The Sequel Trilogy toThe Axis Trilogy is calledThe Wayfarer Redemption Trilogy
=================================================
StarMan
Book Three of The Axis Trilogy
By Sara Douglass
Nothing but idiot gabble!
For the prophecy given of old And then not understood,
Has come to pass as foretold;
Not let any man think for the public good,
But babble, merely for babble.
For I never whisper'd a private affair Within the hearing of cat or mouse,
No, not to myself in the closet alone,
But I heard it shouted at once from the top of the house;
Everything came to be known.
Who told him we were there?
Not that gray old wolf, for he came not back
From the wilderness, full of wolves, where he used to lie;
He has gather'd the bones for his o'ergrown whelp to crack;
Crack them now for yourself, and howl, and die.
---Alfred, Lord Tennyson, from Part II.v ofMaud
The Prophecy of the Destroyer
A day will come when born will be Two babes whose blood will tie them.
That born to Wing and Horn will hate
The one they call the StarMan.
Destroyer! rises in the north
And drives his Ghostmen south;
Defenceless lie both flesh and field Before GorgraePs ice.
To meet this threat you must release
The StarMan from his lies,
Revive Tencendor, fast and sure
Forget the ancient war,
For if Plough, Wing and Horn can't find
The bridge to understanding,
Then will Gorgrael earn his name
And bring Destruction hither.
StarMan, listen, heed me well,
Your power will destroy you
If you should wield it in the fray 'Ere these prophecies are met:
The Sentinels will walk abroad
'Til power corrupt their hearts;
A child will turn her head and cry
Revealing ancient arts;
A wife will hold in joy at night
The slayer of her husband;
Age-old souls, long in cribs,
Will sing o'er mortal land;
The remade dead, fat with child
Will birth abomination;
A darker power will prove to be
The father of salvation.
Then waters will release bright eyes To form the Rainbow Scepter.
StarMan, listen, for I know
That you can wield the scepter To bring Gorgrael to his knees And break the ice asunder.
But even with the power in hand Your pathway is not sure: A Traitor from within your camp
Will seek and plot to harm you;
Let not your Lover's pain distract For this will mean your death;
Destroyer's might lies in his hate Yet you must never follow;
Forgiveness is the thing assured
To save Tencendor's soul.
The Day of Power
It was a long day, the day Axis tried to kill Azhure, then married her. It was a day filled with power, and
thus power found it easy to wrap and manipulate lives. The power of the Enchantress - untested and, for
the moment, uncontrolled -had dominated the morning. Now, as the Enchantress smiled and kissed her
new husband, it lay quiescent, waiting.
But as the gate that had imprisoned Azhure's power and identity had shattered that day, so had other
gates shattered, and so other powers had moved - and not all of them welcomed by the Prophecy.
As the Enchantress leaned back from her husband, accepting the warmth and love of her friends and
family about her, so power walked the land of Tencendor. It would be a long day.
Axis pulled the Enchantress' ring from a small secret pocket in his breeches. He held it up so that all in
the room could see it, then he slid the ring onto the heart finger of Azhure's left hand. It fit perfectly, made
only for this woman, and for this finger.
"Welcome into the House of the Stars to stand by my side, Enchantress. May we walk together
forever."
"Forever?" the GateKeeper said. "You and the Enchantress? Forever? As you wish, StarMan, as
you wish."
She laughed, then, from one of the bowls on the table before her she lifted out two balls and studied
them.
"Foreve^" she muttered, and placed them with the group of seven sparkling balls at the front of her
table. The Greater. "Nine. Complete. The Circle iscomplete*. At last... at last!"
She fell silent, deep in thought. Her fingers trembled. Already he had one child, and more to follow.
And then...the other.
She held a hand over one of the bowls again, dipped it in sharply, and brought out four more balls.
She dropped them into the pile of softly glowing golden balls which represented those who did not have
to go through her Gate. The Lesser.
"Yet onemorel" A spasm of pain crossed her face. Her hand lifted slowly, shaking, then she snarled
and snatched a dull black ball from the pile of those who refused to go through her Gate.
She hissed, for the GateKeeper loathed releasing a soul without exacting fair price. "Does that satisfy
your promise, WolfStar?Does it?"
She dropped it with the other four on the pile of the Lesser.
"Enough," she said in relief. "It is done. Enough."
Faraday tightened the girth on the donkey and checked the saddlebags and panniers. She did not
carry much with her: the bowl of enchanted wood that the silver pelt had given her so long ago; the green
gown that the Mother had presented to her; some extra blankets; a pair of sturdy boots should the
weather break; and a few spare clothes.
It was not -much for a widowed Queen, thought Faraday, fighting to keep her emotions under
control. Where the retainers? The gilded carriage and the caparisoned horses? The company of two
white donkeys was paltry considering what she had done for Axis and for Tencendor - and what she
would yet do.
Carriages and horses? What did she need with those? All she needed, all she wanted, was the love of
a man who did not love her.
She thought about Azhure and Caelum, envying the woman yet sharing her joy in her son. Well, she
thought, no matter. I am mother to forty-two thousand souls. Surely their birthing will give me pain and
joy enough.
The stables, as the rest of the palace of Carlon, were still and quiet. When she had left the Sentinels
earlier Faraday had heard that the princes and commanders closest to Axis and Azhure had been called
to the apartment where Faraday had left them.
"A wedding, I hope," Faraday murmured, and did not know whether to smile for Azhure's sake, or
cry for her own.
She took a deep breath and steeled herself. She had her own role to play in the Prophecy and it
would take her far from Carlon. Faraday could not wait to leave the palace and the city. There were no
happy memories here. Even the recent eight days and nights she had spent at Axis' side had turned out to
be nothing but a lie and a betrayal. It was their memory Faraday wanted to escape most of all.
Why had no-one told her about Azhure? Everyone close to Axis - indeed, many distant from him -
had known of his love for Azhure, yet none had thought to tell Faraday. Not even the Sentinels.
"You let me think that once Borneheld was dead Axis would be mine," she had cried to the Sentinels.
"All I had to comfort me during that frightful marriage was the thought that one day my efforts for the
Prophecy would be rewarded with Axis' love, and yet that comfort was a lie."
Ogden and Veremund hung their heads in shame, and when Yr stepped forward to comfort Faraday,
she jerked away.
"Didyou know?" Faraday shouted at Jack. "Didyou know from the very beginning that I would lose
Axis?"
"None of us know all of the twists and turns of the Prophecy, sweet girl," Jack replied, his face
unreadable.
Faraday had stared flatly at him, almost tasting the lie he'd mouthed.
She sighed. Her meeting with the Sentinels had not gone well. She now regretted the harsh words
she'd lashed at them before she'd stalked out the door. Ogden and Veremund had scurried after her,
their cheeks streaked with tears, asking her where she was going. "Into Prophecy - where you have
thrust me," Faraday had snapped.
"Then take our donkeys and their bags and panniers," they'd begged.
Faraday nodded curtly. "If you wish."
Then she had left them standing in the corridor, as much victims of the Prophecy as she was.
Now all she knew was that she had to go east and that, sooner or later, she would have to begin the
transfer of the seedlings from Ur's nursery in the Enchanted Woods beyond the Sacred Grove to this
world.
Faraday gathered the leads of the placid donkeys and turned to the stable entrance. A heavily
cloaked figure stood there, shrouded in shadows. Faraday jumped, her heart pounding.
"Faraday?" a soft voice asked, and she let out a breath in sheer relief. She'd thought that this dark
figure might be the mysterious and dangerous WolfStar.
"Embeth! What are you doing down here? Why are you cloaked so heavily?"
Embeth tugged back the hood. Her face was pale and drawn, her eyes showing the strain of sleepless
nights.
"You're leaving, Faraday?"
Faraday stared at the woman, remembering how Embeth, like the Sentinels, had urged her into the
marriage with Borneheld. She also remembered that Embeth and Axis had been lovers for many years.
Well could you dissuade me from Axis and urge me to Borneheld's bed, she thought sourly, when you
had enjoyed Axis for so long.
But Faraday forced herself to remember that Embeth had been doing only what she thought best for a
young girl untutored in the complexities of court intrigue. Embeth had known nothing of prophecies or of
the maelstrom that had, even then, caught so many of its victims into its swirling dark outer edges.
"Yes. There is no place for me here, Embeth. I travel east," she replied, deliberately vague, letting
Embeth think she was travelling back to her family home in Skarabost.
Embeth's hands twisted in front of her. "What of you and Axis?"
Faraday stared unbelievingly at her before she realised that Embeth probably had no knowledge of
the day's events.
"I leave Axis to his lover, Embeth. I leave him to Azhure." Her voice was so soft that Embeth had to
strain to hear it.
"Oh, Faraday," she said, hesitating only an instant before she stepped forward and hugged the woman
tightly. "Faraday, I am sorry I did not tell you...about...well, about Azhure and her son. But I could not
find the words, and after a few days I had convinced myself that you must have known. That Axis must
have told you. But I saw your face yesterday when Axis acknowledged Azhure and named her son as his
heir and I realised then that Axis had kept his silence. That everyone had. Faraday, please forgive me."
Faraday finally broke down into the tears she had not allowed herself since that appalling moment at
the ceremony when she had realised the depth of Axis' betrayal. She sobbed, and Embeth hugged her
fiercely. For a few minutes the two women stood in the dim stable, then Faraday pulled back and wiped
her eyes, an unforced smile on her face.
"Thank you, Embeth. I needed that."
"If you are going east then you must be going past Tare," Embeth said. "Please, Faraday, let me come
with you as far as Tare. There is no place here in Carlon for me any more. Timozel has gone, only the
gods know where, my other two children are far distant - both married now - and I do not think either
Axis or Azhure would feel comfortable with my continuing presence."
As mine, Faraday thought. Discarded lovers are a source of some embarrassment.
"Judith still waits in Tare, and needs my company. And there are...other . . . reasons I should return
home."
Faraday noted the older woman's hesitancy. "StarDrifter?" she asked.
"Yes," Embeth said after a moment's hesitation. "I was a fool to succumb to his well-practised
enticements, but the old comfortable world I knew had broken apart into so many pieces that I felt lost,
lonely, unsure. He was an escape and I...I, as his son's former lover, was an irresistible challenge."
A wry grin crossed her face. "I fear I may have made a fool of myself, Faraday, and that thought hurts
more than any other pain I have endured over the past months. StarDrifter only used me to sate his
curiosity, he did not care for me. We did not even share the friendship that Axis and I did."
We have both been used and discarded by these damn SunSoar men, Faraday thought. "Well," she
said, "as far as Tare, you say? How long will it take you to pack?"
To her surprise Embeth actually laughed. "As long as it takes me to saddle a horse. I have no wish to
go back inside the palace. I already wear a serviceable dress and good boots, and should I require
anything else then I have gold pieces in my purse. We shall not want for food along the way."
Faraday smiled. "We would not have wanted for food in any case." She patted one of the saddlebags.
Embeth frowned in puzzlement at the empty saddlebag, but Faraday only reached out her hand.
"Come, let us both walk away from these SunSoar men. Let us find meaning for our lives elsewhere."
As Faraday and Embeth left the palace of Carlon, far to the north Timozel sat brooding on the dreary
shores of Murkle Bay. To his right rose the cheerless Murkle Mountains that spread north for some fifty
leagues along the western border of Aldeni.
Relentless cold, dry winds blew off the Andeis Sea, making life all but impossible within the mountain
range.
The darkness of the waters before Timozel reflected the blackness of his mind. If, far to the south,
Embeth worried about her lost son, Timozel spared no thought for his mother -Gorgrael dominated his
mind awake and asleep.
Over the past nine days Timozel had ridden as hard as he dared for the north. With each league
further away from Carlon and Faraday he could feel Gorgrael's grip clench tighter about his soul.
The horror Timozel had felt when Faraday dropped the pot and shattered the ties that bound him to
her had dimmed, but had not completely left him. In those odd hours when he snatched some sleep,
nightmares invariably claimed him and he always woke screaming. Three times this day he had dropped
off in the saddle, only to find Gorgrael waiting for him in his dreams, his claws digging into TimozePs
neck, his repulsive face bending close to Timozel's own. "Mine," the dream-Gorgrael would hiss. "Mine!
You areminel"
And with his every step further north the more potent became the nightmares. If only he could turn his
back on Gorgrael and ride for Carlon. Beg forgiveness from Faraday, find some way to reconstitute his
vows of Championship. But Gorgrael's claws had sunk too deep.
Despair overwhelmed Timozel, and he wept, grieving for the boy he had once been, grieving for the
pact he had been forced to make with Gorgrael, grieving for the loss of Faraday's friendship.
Beside him lay the cooling carcass of the latest horse he'd killed. The animal had staggered to a halt,
stood a moment, and then sunk wearily to the sandy beach. This was the sixth horse he had literally
ridden into the ground in recent days - and Timozel had slid his feet quickly from the stirrups and swung
his leg over the horse's wither as it slumped to the ground, standing himself in one graceful movement.
As Timozel sat on the gritty beach, watching the grey waves, he wondered what to do next. How was
he going to keep moving north now this damned horse had died on him?
And what had driven him to the shores of Murkle Bay in the first instance? It was many leagues to the
west of where he should have been heading - Jervois Landing, then north into the Skraeling-controlled
Ichtar through Gorken Pass and then north, north, north to Gorgrael's Ice Fortress. It would be a hard
journey, perhaps months long, and only Timozel's determination and his bond to Gorgrael would see him
through.
As each horse fell Timozel had stolen another one - not a difficult proposition in the well-populated
regions of Avonsdale. But he was unlikely to find a horse in the desolate regions surrounding Murkle Bay
or in the mountains themselves.
He squared his shoulders. Well then, he would walk and Gorgrael - if he truly wanted Timozel -
would no doubt provide.
But not today. Even his fear of Gorgrael-sent nightmares would not keep Timozel from sleep tonight.
He shivered and pulled his cloak closer, shifting uncomfortably on the cold, damp sand. Somehow he
would have to find enough fuel for a fire to keep him warm through the night. A rumble in his belly
reminded him that he had not eaten in over two days, and he wondered if he could snatch a fish from
Murkle Bay's depths.
His eyes narrowed as he gazed across the bay. What was that out to sea? Perhaps a hundred paces
distant from the beach Timozel could see a small, dark hump bobbing in the waves. He'd heard stories of
the whales that lived in the Andeis Sea and wondered if perhaps this dark shape was the back of one of
the mammoth ocean fish that had strayed into Murkle Bay.
Timozel stared, blinking in the salty breeze. As the dark shape came closer Timozel leapt to his feet.
"What?" he hissed.
The hump had resolved itself into the silhouette of a heavily cloaked man rowing a tiny boat. He was
making directly for Timozel.
Timozel's dull headache abruptly flared into white heat and he cried out, doubling over in agony. But
the pain died as quickly as it had erupted and after catching his breath Timozel slowly straightened out.
When he looked up again he saw that the man and his boat were almost to shore.
He shivered. The man was so tightly cloaked and hooded Timozel could not see his face, yet he knew
that this was no ordinary fisherman. But what disturbed him most was that although the man made every
appearance of rowing vigorously, the oars that dipped into the water never made a splash and the boat
itself sailed as smoothly and as calmly as if it were pushed by some powerful underwater hand.
Magic! Timozel took a step back as the boat slipped smoothly ashore.
The man shipped his oars and stood up, wrapping his cloak about him. Timozel couldfeel but notsee
a smile on the man's face.
"Ah, Timozel," he said in a deeply musical voice, stepping smoothly out of the boat and striding across
the sand that separated them. "How fortunate you should be waiting for me."
Sweat beaded in the palms of Timozel's hands and he had to force himself not to wipe them along his
cloak. For the first time in nine days thoughts of Gorgrael slipped completely from his mind. He stared at
the dark man who had halted some three or four paces in front of him.
"Timozel," the man said, and despite his fears Timozel relaxed slightly. How could a man with such a
gentle voice harbour foul intent?
"Timozel. It is late and I would appreciate a place beside the warmth of your campfire for the night."
Startled, Timozel looked over his shoulder at where the man pointed. A bright fire leaped cheerfully
into the darkness; a large rabbit sizzled on a spit and a pot steamed gently to one side of the coals.
"How...?" Tlmozel began, doubt and fear resurfacing in his mind.
"Timozel," the man said, his voice slipping into an even deeper timbre. "You must have lit the fire
earlier and, in your exhaustion, forgotten the deed."
"Yes." Timozel's shoulders slumped in relief. "Yes, that must be it. Yes, my mind is so hazy."
Beneath his hood the Dark Man's smile broadened. Poor, troubled Timozel. His mind had been
shadowed for so long that it was now an easy task to manipulate it.
"The rabbit smells good," he said, taking Timozel's arm. Surprisingly, all traces of Timozel's headache
faded completely at the man's touch. "Shall we eat?"
An hour later Timozel sat before the fire, feeling more relaxed than he had in months. He no longer
minded that his companion chose not to reveal his features. In these past months he had seen stranger
creatures, like those feathered abominations that now crawled over the fouled palace of Carlon. His lip
curled.
"You do not like what you have seen in Carlon, Timozel."
"Disgusting," Timozel said.
"Oh, absolutely."
Timozel shifted, his loathing of the Icarii rippling through his body. "Borneheld tried to stop them, but
he failed."
The Dark Man shrugged. "Unfortunate."
"Treachery undid him."
"Of course."
"Heshould have won!" Timozel clenched his fists and stared across the fire at the cloaked man. "He
should have. I had a vision -"
He stopped. Why had he mentioned that vision? Would this strange man laugh at him?
"Really?" The Dark Man's voice held no trace of derision; indeed, it held traces of awe. "You must be
beloved of the immortals, Timozel, if you have been granted visions."
"But I fear the vision misled me."
"Well," the cloaked man said slowly, as if reluctant to speak, "I have travelled widely, Timozel, and I
have seen many bizarre sights and heard even stranger stories. One of the things I have learned is that
visions can sometimes be misunderstood, misinterpreted. Would you," his hands twisted nervously before
him, "would you share your vision with me?"
Timozel considered the man through narrowed eyes. He had never shared the details of the vision
with anyone - not even Borneheld, although Borneheld knew Artor had enabled Timozel to foresee his
victory over Axis.
But Borneheldhadn't won, had he? And Artor seemed powerless in the face of the Forbidden
invasion; even the Brother-Leader had gibbered impotently before Axis. Timozel dropped his gaze and
rubbed his eyes. Perhaps the vision was worthless. A phantasm, nothing more.
"Tell me of the vision," the Dark Man whispered.Share.
Timozel hesitated.
摘要：

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