Crusader (53 page)

Axis sat his mare, and stared.

All that was left of Zenith was the head, a portion of neck and one shoulder, and an arm, flung wide as if in puzzlement.

Axis stared, his eyes hooked by the strange, wild tatters of flesh lining the great wound where the rest of her body had been chewed from her head and shoulder.

The flesh of her shoulder and arm was so white.

Her eyes, opened, continued to reflect in death the agony and horror she’d endured during her last breathing moments.

Axis sat his mare and stared.

Urbeth crested the ridge and came to a halt beside Axis and Sal.

She looked down at the mass of feeding Hawkchilds, twittering and whispering wetly as their beaks dipped and
tore, at StarLaughter standing laughing and giggling to one side, and at the horrible remains of Zenith.

Then she lifted her head and looked at Axis, and for once in her life, Urbeth did not know what to say.

“I am going to put an end to this,” Axis said in an emotionless voice.

“The Hawkchilds and StarLaughter cannot be dealt with save by power,” Urbeth replied. “And your power is all gone.”

“No,” Axis said, once more looking at the carnage below him. “You are wrong, Urbeth. I have left the power of a father’s love, and of a father’s grief.”

And without urging, Sal started down the slope.

StarLaughter looked away from the feeding pack of Hawkchilds, and laughed all the harder.

A man was riding down the slope of the gully towards her. An ordinary man with a pitiful sword in his hand and riding a more than ordinary brown mare who would look happier pulling a milk cart than riding into the midst of a dangerous revenging.

StarLaughter tipped back her head and let her laughter wash over the rising sun, extending her arms and hands in rapturous joy.

WolfStar was dead.
WolfStar was dead!

He could harm her no more, he could humiliate her no more, and StarLaughter hoped he was currently screaming in agony within the deepest firepits of the AfterLife.

“You are dead, WolfStar,” she whispered, “and I am alive.
I
have won!”

She turned her head and sighed irritably as the man pulled his mare to a halt some two or three paces away. Some part of her mind recognised him as the Axis StarMan she’d taunted in the tunnel under the Fortress Ranges, but in this, her moment of triumph, she cared little for who or what he was.

He was, after all, pointless.

“WolfStar made many errors in his life,” Axis remarked in a wooden tone, “but the greatest of all was that he didn’t tear your head from your neck before he threw you into the Star Gate.”

“Get out of here,” StarLaughter said. “This is none of your business.”

None of my business? You murdered my daughter!

Axis stared at StarLaughter, his gaze horribly intense.

“Get out of here!” StarLaughter yelled, waving an arm. “Don’t think to sit on that pathetic nag and share my triumph!”

“Triumph?” Axis said softly. “StarLaughter, you have made an awful mistake.”

StarLaughter narrowed her eyes, thinking. “Ah! The Zenith-harlot was your daughter, was she? Well, don’t think to revenge yourself on me for her death. She deserved to die.”

Controlling himself at that moment was one of the hardest things Axis had been forced to do in a long, long while. “For my daughter’s death,” he said, “you deserve an eternal hell. She did not deserve to die—”

“WolfStar threw me aside for her! She deserved every last agony she suffered!”

“You demented witch!” Axis screamed, half-rising from the saddle.
“There was no reason at all for her death!”

“I just told you why she had to—” StarLaughter stopped abruptly. What had he meant, “an awful mistake”?

Axis took a hard, deep breath, forcing each word out through clenched teeth. “My daughter’s death was pointless, as was WolfStar’s—although I for one am glad he is finally dead—because WolfStar did not love Zenith at all. He loved you.”

“What?”

“WolfStar was only using Zenith to cause dissension within my family. He wanted power back, and thought Zenith the best way to get it.” Axis had no idea how true his
words were, he only thought they provided a plausible reason for WolfStar’s actions.

StarLaughter did not know whether to laugh at the man, or to succumb to utter despair.
She did not want to believe him!

But his words contained a dreadful, frightful ring of truth.

She stepped close to the horse and put a shaking hand on Axis’ thigh. “Tell me!”

“WolfStar wanted to control DragonStar, and he wanted to use Zenith to manipulate him.” Axis gave a harsh bark of laughter. “He chose poorly. He should have picked Faraday. Stars above! Hasn’t every other ambitious bastard in this land tried to use her at one time or the other?”

StarLaughter frowned, trying to work it out. “But—”

“He loved you. He would have used Zenith, then thrown her aside. You were always foremost in his thoughts.”

And always with a curse attached to your name, Axis thought, but this he did not say.

“No! No! I cannot believe you! Didn’t he curse me foully when I appeared before him in your convoy? Didn’t he repudiate me completely? Didn’t he—”

“What
else
did you expect him to do, StarLaughter? He was hardly going to throw Zenith aside when all his plans were coming to fruition. I expect he thought you would have understood that.”

StarLaughter tried very, very hard to deny what Axis was saying, but in her twisted mind it all made sense. WolfStar would certainly have wanted to control DragonStar…and, if he’d known that DragonStar had slept with his beloved wife, would have wanted to hurt him as much as possible. No wonder he’d picked Zenith to toy with! And now StarLaughter could understand why WolfStar had said what he had…and why he’d behaved as he had when confronted with StarLaughter with a rope wrapped about Zenith’s neck.

StarLaughter, had she been in WolfStar’s place, would have acted exactly the same way.

Somewhere deep within StarLaughter a small voice said that if WolfStar had truly loved her, and had desired Zenith only for her usefulness, then he would have told StarLaughter then and there that he loved only her truly, and that Zenith was a mere pawn for his ambitions.

But he couldn’t, could he, because StarDrifter had been there also, and WolfStar could not have admitted his true motives in front of him.

Yes!

No!
her mind screamed back.
I have killed him! I have killed him!

Axis smiled in grim, determined satisfaction. “You
have
made an awful mistake, haven’t you?”

StarLaughter dropped her hand from Axis’ thigh and clasped both hands against her breast, her fingers opening and closing amid the folds of her gown. Her mouth went slack in horror.

“I have lost him!” she eventually whispered. “Lost him forever!”

“Not necessarily,” Axis said, and StarLaughter missed entirely the hatred and revenge filling his voice.

“No?” Again StarLaughter grabbed at Axis—in sudden, bright hope now, rather than anxiety. “No?”

“No. Your and WolfStar’s love is a destined thing—”

“Yes! Yes!”

“—and destiny can never be denied.”

“Oh! How right you are!” StarLaughter’s face was now suffused with joyous hope.

“I am sure,” Axis said, very quietly, and emphasising every word, “that WolfStar waits for you just the other side of the Gate of Death.”

“He does?”

“Oh, aye. Waits for you to join him so that you can enjoy a wonderful eternity in the Field of Flowers together.”

“The Field of Flowers?”

“A new eternity for all to enjoy,” Axis said. “Peace forever more with your loved ones. Imagine, lying in WolfStar’s arms
amid the lilies, the stars whirling overhead, nothing but you and he, he and you, for all eternity…”

“Oh,” StarLaughter breathed rapturously.

“And all you must do,” Axis whispered, “is to join WolfStar beyond the Gate of Death.”

StarLaughter stared at him, her eyes wide.

“A small, trivial thing,” Axis continued, still very quietly, very persuasively.

His eyes blazed into StarLaughter’s, with hope, she thought.

“A small, trivial thing,” she said. “He waits just beyond…”

“Just beyond the Gate of Death. Waiting, just for you. Loving you, but weeping that you made such an awful mistake that threatened your eternal happiness together.”

StarLaughter thrust her hands against her face. “How could I have been so stupid!”

“Everyone makes mistakes. Fortunately, yours is easily rectified.”

StarLaughter nodded, her eyes filled with determination, and Axis slowly lifted his sword and presented it to her in ceremonial fashion, blade in his left hand, hilt extended over his right forearm crossed under the sword.

StarLaughter dropped her eyes from Axis’ face and stared at the sword.

“Such a small thing,” Axis said, “to be able to join him.”

She said nothing.

“Think of your love, and the joy that will be yours forever more, ever more. It is destined.”

“Destined,” StarLaughter murmured, and tentatively grasped the hilt.

“Destined,” Axis said.

Still StarLaughter hesitated. “But…but our son. I have to get my son! WolfStar and I can’t exist without—”

“Oh, rest easy, StarLaughter. I am sure that your son will join you shortly. Don’t worry about it. But there is one other thing…”

Axis reworked his expression into one of deep sorrow. “Of course, if you don’t join him soon, WolfStar shall have to make do with whoever he can find. Zenith, I should imagine. After all, you sent her with him. Another awful mistake.”

StarLaughter hissed in fury, and she seized the sword and drew it from Axis’ care. “She shall not have him!”

“Not if you hurry,” Axis agreed.

Utterly determined, and driven by her love and jealousy, StarLaughter changed her grip on the sword, pointing its blade towards her. Hurry, she had to hurry!

Without further thought she drove the blade deep into her belly.

She froze, then looked at Axis, her face a mask of bewilderment, her hands still wrapped about the hilt of the sword. “It hurts.”

He shrugged a little. “Death always does, it is part of the rite of passage, I think. Pull the blade free then plunge it in again, twisting this time. Remember WolfStar waits for you.”

“Yes…yes.” StarLaughter tightened her grip, and pulled the blade free.

She screamed, and began to shake violently. “There’s…there’s so much blood.”

She took a gasping, sobbing breath. “The pain…”

Axis made no comment, but his eyes were bright with hate as they stared at StarLaughter.

“Why is there so much blood, and so much pain?”

“It shows that it’s working. Death is opening its Gate for you. Surely you will soon see WolfStar, waiting for you. Go on, plunge the blade in again. Deeper, until you can feel it scraping against your spine.”

StarLaughter frowned, then, biting her lip in determination, she took as firm a grip around the hilt as she could, and plunged the blade in again, deep, deeper yet, her face contorted with agony and determination and insane, misplaced love, and gave the blade a massive twist.

Her mouth dropped open with a low, wailing cry, and her eyes stared violently.

She stilled, shuddered, then dropped to the ground.

Axis stared down.

StarLaughter was still alive, but only just.

“Can you see him yet?” Axis asked.

“He’s just beyond the Gate,” StarLaughter murmured happily, and died.

WolfStar was not pleased to see her at all. He fought, furious, but StarLaughter had her claws in him now, and he could not wrest himself free.

Fate had bound them for eternity.

“The Field,” she whispered, and her fingers tightened around his arm.

And so they approached the Field, the husband and wife, their voices raised in acrimonious marital dispute.

They approached the Field, but they did not enter.

They could not.

A thin, pockmarked man, incongruously dressed as a butler, stood before a latched garden gate.

He crossed his arms over his chest, and in a stern voice he said: “Go away. The Field rejects you.”

“But—” the husband began.

“Go away.”

“We
demand
entrance!” the wife cried in shrill tones.

“Begone!” the Butler roared, and the husband and wife flinched, and left, each blaming the other for their rejection.

They were left with only one place to drift—the frigid spaces between the stars.

But even there they were not left in peace, for the stars spat at them, and the comets flung blazing embers from their tails at them, and finally that husband and wife drifted to the very edge of the universe where, in loneliness and hate and recrimination, they prepared to spend their eternity.

Axis stared down at StarLaughter’s corpse for a very long time, then raised his head towards the Hawkchilds.

They had finished feeding now, and one of them, StarGrace, hobbled towards him.

“If you think you can persuade
us
to kill ourselves,” she said, her beak rippling into pouting, red-lipped form then back to horned abomination, “then you are very, very wrong. We have no need to chase WolfStar into the mists of death.”

“Then I must perforce use a bit of persuasion,” Axis said, and, raising his head so that he looked beyond the Hawkchilds, smiled.

StarGrace considered him carefully, then she slowly turned and looked herself.

And gave a scream of rage.

Advancing down the back slopes of the gully were hundreds of ghostly trees, their branches weaving and waving into the dawn sky.

“Fool!” StarGrace said, as she whipped back to Axis. “They cannot catch us!”

And she spread her wings and rose into the air, her companions behind her.

Axis lifted his head to watch them…and smiled yet again, cold and hard.