At that moment the child within her moved. She gave a little cry. Then she smiled. 'He kicked me,' she said. Ulmenetha gently placed her hand over Axiana's swollen belly.
'Yes, I can feel him. He's lusty and anxious for life.'
'Can I feel him?' asked little Sufia, scrambling back on her hands and knees. Axiana gazed down into her bright blue eyes.
'Of course,' she said. Taking the child's small, grimy hand, she placed it over her stomach. For a moment there was no movement, then the baby kicked again. Sufia squealed with delight.
'Pharis, Pharis, come feel!' she cried.
Pharis looked up and met the queen's gaze. Axiana smiled and held out her hand. Pharis moved to her, and the baby obediently kicked once more.
'How did it get in there?' asked Sufia. 'And how will it get out?'
'Magic,' said Ulmenetha, swiftly. 'How old are you, Sufia?' she added, changing the subject. The child shrugged.
'I don't know. My brother Griss said he was six. And I'm younger than Griss.'
'Where is your brother?' asked Axiana, stroking Sufia's greasy blond hair.
'The wizard man took him away.' She was suddenly frightened. 'You won't let him take me away, will you?'
'Nobody will take you away, little one,' said Conalin, fiercely. 'I'll kill any who try.'
This pleased Sufia. She looked up at Conalin. 'Can I drive the wagon?' she asked.
Pharis helped her clamber over the backrest, and Conalin sat her on his lap, allowing her to hold the reins.
Axiana bit into the apple. It was sweet, wondrously sweet.
They had just reached the trees when they heard the sound of thundering hoof beats. Axiana glanced back. Five horsemen were cresting the rise behind them.
Dagorian galloped back to the wagon, his sabre gleaming in his hand.
Chapter Seven
Vellian had been a fighting man for fifteen of his twenty-nine years, and had served Malikada and Antikas Karios for twelve of them. He had joined the Ventrian army for the Great Expedition; the invasion of Drenan, and the righting of ancient wrongs. Every Ventrian child knew of Drenai infamy, their broken treaties, their territorial impudence, and their killing, centuries before, of the Great Emperor Gorben.
The invasion was to have put right all past wrongs.
That, at least, was how it was sold to the fourteen-year-old Vellian when the recruiting officers arrived at his village. There was no greater honour, they said, than serving the emperor in a just cause. They made extravagant promises about wealth and glory. The wealth did not interest Vellian, but thoughts of glory swept through him like a powerful drug. He signed that day, without seeking permission from his parents, and rode away to smite the savages and seek his fame.
Now he rode a weary horse on the Old Lem road, and all his dreams were dust.
He had watched the Drenai army in their hopeless battle against the Cadians and had felt the enormous weight of shame. None of the junior officers had known of Malikada's plan, and they had waited, swords drawn, for the signal to attack. The Drenai centre had fought bravely, driving a wedge into the Cadian ranks. The battle was won. Or it would have been, had the Ventrian cavalry moved in on the signal and attacked. Every man saw the signal, and some even began to move forward. Then Malikada had shouted: 'Hold firm!'
Vellian had at first believed it to be part of some subtle, superior plan worked out between Skanda and Malikada. But as the hour wore on, and the Drenai died in their thousands, the truth revealed itself. Malikada, a man he had served loyally for almost half his life, had betrayed the king.
There was worse to come. Skanda was taken alive, and delivered to a cave high in the mountains, where the wizard Kalizkan waited. He was taken inside and sacrificed in some foul rite.
For the first time Vellian considered desertion. He had been raised to value honour and loyalty and the pursuit of the truth. He believed in these things. They were at the heart of any civilized nation. Without them there was anarchy, chaos, and a rapid descent into the dark.
There was no honour in betrayal.
Then Antikas Karios had come to him, ordering him to gather his Twenty and follow him to Usa to protect the queen. This duty, at least, was honourable.
They had found the city in flames, bodies on the streets, and the palace deserted. No-one knew where the queen was hiding. Then Antikas questioned a group of men on the Avenue of Kings. They had seen a wagon leave the palace. A red-headed boy was driving it, and a soldier was riding beside it. There were women in the wagon, and it was heading towards the west gate.
Antikas had split the Twenty into four groups, and sent Vellian to the south.
'I may not come back, sir,' he told him. 'I have a desire to leave the army.'
Antikas had pondered the statement, then he gestured Vellian to follow him, and rode away from the other soldiers. 'What is wrong?' Antikas had asked him.
'I would say just about everything,' Vellian told him, sadly.
'You are referring to the battle.'
'To the slaughter, you mean? To the treachery.' He expected Antikas to draw his blade and cut him down, and was surprised when the officer laid a hand upon his shoulder.
'You are the best of them, Vellian. You are brave and honest, and I value you above all other officers. But you betrayed no-one. You merely obeyed your general. The weight of responsibility is his alone. So I say this to you: Ride south and if you find the queen bring her back to Usa. If you do not find her then go where you will with my blessing. Will you do this? For me?'
'I will, sir. Might I ask one question?'
'Of course.'
'Did you know of the plan?'
'I did — to my eternal shame. Now go — and do this last duty.'
An hour of hard riding followed, and then Vellian saw the wagon. As the men had said it was being driven by a youth with red hair. A child was sitting on the seat with him, and in the rear of the wagon were three women.
And one was the queen.
The soldier with them had drawn his sabre.
Keeping his hands on the reins Vellian rode his horse down the slope, and halted before the rider. His men rode alongside him. 'Good morning,' he said. 'I am Vellian, sent by the General Antikas Karios to fetch the queen back to her palace. The city is quiet now and the army will be returning before tomorrow to fully restore order.'
'An army of traitors,' said Dagorian, coldly. Vellian reddened.
'Yes,' he agreed. 'Now return your sabre to its scabbard and let us be on our way.'
'I don't think so,' said Dagorian. 'The queen is in great danger. She will be safer with me.'
'Danger from whom?' asked Vellian, unsure as to how to proceed.
'The sorcerer, Kalizkan.'
'Then put your fears at rest, for he is dead, killed in a rock fall.'
'I don't believe you.'
'I am not known as a liar, sir.'
'Neither am I, Vellian. But I have pledged my life to protect the queen. This I will do. You ask me to turn her over to you. Did you not pledge your life to protect her husband the king?' Vellian said nothing. 'Well,' continued Dagorian, 'since you failed in that I see no reason to trust you now.'
'Do not be a fool, man. You may be as skilled as Antikas himself with that sabre, but you cannot beat five of us. What is the point then of dying, when the cause is already lost?'
'What is the point of living without a cause worth dying for?' countered Dagorian.
'So be it,' said Vellian, sadly. 'Take him!'