“Yes,” he said quietly. “I can read it. It is very strange, but … but I can read it.” A strange melody ran softly through his mind, but Axis ignored it.
“Then read it, BattleAxe, read it to us,” said Ogden quietly, his eyes riveted on Axis’ face.
Axis took a deep breath, and when he started to read, his voice took on a low-timbred musical quality, almost as if he were singing to himself.
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 Held
Before Gorgrael’s 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.
Axis paused a moment, although he didn’t take his eyes from the page. “Tencendor?”
“I will explain in a moment,” Ogden said quietly, placing a gentle hand on Axis’ shoulder. “Finish. Please.” Axis resumed reading.
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 Sceptre.
“There is a break,” Axis said quietly, “then begins another verse.” He felt very strange, almost as if he were in the grip of a dream. The melody running through his mind had become louder, more insistent. He was thankful for the pressure of Ogden’s hand on his shoulder, and did not notice it tighten in shock the moment he continued to read.
StarMan, listen, for I know
That you can wield the sceptre
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.
For a long moment there was silence. Then Axis reluctantly tore his eyes away from the beautiful page. His vision blurred, then cleared again as he blinked at Ogden. The melody had disappeared as strangely as it had come.
“I don’t understand,” Timozel said, his face confused. He looked apologetically at Ogden and Veremund. “I was never good at my book learning, Brothers. I preferred to spend time with my weapon instructor.”
“Axis seems to have been very good at his book learning,” Gilbert muttered very quietly to himself. Gilbert was sitting next to Axis as he read and yet as carefully as he had studied the page he could not decipher the writing – and he had far more training than Axis had ever had. How had Axis managed to read what he could not?
“Tencendor,” said Veremund, “was the ancient name of Achar when all three races lived together in harmony. The followers of the Plough, the Wing and the Horn. The Prophecy of the Destroyer, as these verses were known, refers to a time when Gorgrael, the Destroyer, will drive his forces of ice and cloud down from the north in an attempt to conquer Tencendor, ah, Achar.”
“Destroyer rises in the north and drives his Ghostmen south,” Axis mused. “Brothers, are these Ghostmen the wraith-like creatures that have been attacking the patrols? And the creatures made of ice that attacked Gorkenfort and Gorkentown … ice creatures of this Gorgrael?”
Ogden nodded.
“It’s completely ridiculous!” Gilbert exclaimed, amazed that Axis could be taking these lines seriously. “This is a heretical book, BattleAxe! You cannot listen to these words!”
Axis turned his pale blue eyes on Gilbert. “I don’t care if we listen to the words of a pox-ridden whore whose brain is riddled with the diseases of her trade, Gilbert, just as long as they make some kind of sense.” He turned back to Ogden and Veremund. “Brothers, I can understand the reference to the Destroyer, and the troubles in the north, but the rest of it? It’s a riddle.”
“I’m afraid that prophecies tend to be a little like riddles, Axis. Easy enough to interpret when you know the answer, almost impossible when you don’t.” And dangerous, he thought, dangerous when you misinterpret them.
“But,” Timozel frowned and leaned forward. “Doesn’t the Prophecy refer to a man who can stop this Destroyer? The ‘StarMan’?”
Veremund frowned. “And tied by blood to the Destroyer. A brother, perhaps.”
Gilbert laughed incredulously, his pimply face scornful as he looked at the two elderly Brothers. “Oh? So you now tell us that we not only face some mythical Destroyer, a legend of the Forbidden, but that we have to put our trust in his brother? If the Destroyer is born of Wing and Horn then he is one of the Forbidden himself. His brother can only be of the Forbidden too. My friends, I think you have been too long closeted with your books. The Seneschal will not allow the Forbidden back into Achar. Never.”
Veremund stood and started to clear away the dishes.