Enchanter: Book Two of the Axis Trilogy. Sara Douglass
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settled in quickly. The garrison complex – the ancient Keep, its kitchens, orchards, barracks, stables, courtyards, cellars and sundry storage and outbuildings – held easily all the men and their horses. The garrison Borneheld had maintained here had been almost as large, and when his men fled they’d taken their horses but not much else, leaving enough supplies to keep Belial’s men fed for some months.
As yet no-one had received an adequate explanation from Jack about why the Skraelings had left Sigholt alone after destroying Hsingard, which was a hundred times the size of Sigholt. In fact, two days after their arrival Jack had disappeared for over three weeks, returning only some four or five days ago. Despite Sigholt’s apparent safety, Belial had spent some sleepless nights, wondering if the Skraelings had left the garrison alone only to mass for a surprise attack. But Belial had gradually relaxed, supervising the daily training routines of his men while making sure they spent an equal amount of time in leisure. The horrors of Gorkenfort and the rigours of the march through eastern Ichtar to Sigholt were still evident in some haggard and prematurely lined faces, but generally the men were recovering well from the trials of the previous months.
A week ago Belial had sent a small detachment of men to make contact with the Axe-Wielders left in Smyrton, inquire further south about supply routes, garner what information they could about Priam and Borneheld’s plans and, most importantly, to see if news of the Prophecy had spread any further south than the Nordra. “If no-one knows the Prophecy, then repeat it,” Belial had instructed. “It will only serve Axis that the Prophecy, and thus the news of his coming, precedes him.”
A couple of days after their departure Jack had reappeared as suddenly as he’d disappeared and refused to answer Belial’s questions. His stubborn silence sent Belial stamping from the room, but this morning Jack had appeared at the daily command conference in the map-room and announced he was prepared to answer all of Belial’s questions as best he could.
“So,” Belial said as he accepted a glass of wine from Magariz. “An ancient lake bed. How does that explain why the Skraelings haven’t attacked?”
“The ancient lake bed explains both why I am here and why the Skraelings have not attacked – and probably won’t attack unless Gorgrael pushes them very hard,” Jack replied. “Please, Belial, may I have some of that spiced wine before we continue? Sigholt may be protected from the worst of Gorgrael’s cold, but it is still chill enough.”
Belial started to move towards the table, but Arne indicated he would fetch Jack a goblet. Since their arrival at Sigholt Arne had made himself Belial’s general personal assistant, although Belial was sure that when Axis reappeared Arne would resume service with him.
Jack sipped the wine Arne handed him with pleasure. He had spent the past three weeks exploring the surrounding hills and cliff faces in detail, searching for what he knew must be there. Finally he put his wine down.
“Each of the Sentinels are associated with one of what were known as the sacred Lakes of Tencendor, Belial. There were four, now there remain only three. You have seen one of them, Grail Lake – although Arne has seen two. The remaining two sacred Lakes are Cauldron Lake in the heart of the Silent Woman Woods, and Fernbrake Lake in the highest valley of the Bracken Ranges. All are magical, and the Skraelings – who hate water of any sort – will stay far away from them. The Keep of Sigholt sat on the very edge of the most powerful of the four Lakes – the Lake of Life.”
Jack chewed his lip, debating whether to tell them the rest, then made up his mind. The Lake’s secrets would be revealed soon enough anyway.
“But the Lake of Life has been drained,” he continued. “It has disappeared. And with it has gone its Sentinel, Zeherah.”
Belial shifted impatiently. “Yes, I can understand the Sentinels’ alliance with the Lakes. I’m aware that the Skraelings dislike water, and I suppose that they would dislike magical Lakes more than ordinary water. But since the water has now disappeared, why don’t they attack?”
Jack shrugged. He had discarded his peasant garb and now stood clothed in a fine green woollen tunic and trousers edged with scarlet that would have done a minor noble proud. “Some of the magic lingers, Belial. Enough to discourage them from an attempt on the Keep itself.” That the Keep was also magical Jack did not tell Belial and Magariz.
“But they might one day surmount their dislike enough to attack?” asked Magariz, limping over to the window again.
“Perhaps.” Jack sighed, worry straining his face. “Especially if Gorgrael decides the garrison might be a worthwhile enough target.”
“Gorgrael has spread himself thin,” Belial said slowly. “We were hardly bothered in the journey south to Sigholt. My guess is that we damaged him so badly above Gorkenfort that he’s concentrating on maintaining his hold, rather than extending it.”
“I agree. We’re probably safe for the moment, perhaps for the entire summer coming while Gorgrael reinvigorates his Ghostmen. But …” Jack paused.
“But?” Magariz prompted, one heavy eyebrow raised.
“But I need your help. I want to make Sigholt secure against the Skraelings, a strong base for Axis as he builds the forces necessary to beat the Destroyer back. And …” he hesitated. “And I want to see if I can find Zeherah. Belial, Magariz, if I cannot find her then we may as well turn our backs and let Gorgrael occupy the whole of Tencendor – or Achar, as you still call it. We need the five – Axis needs the five – to defeat Gorgrael.”
“So,” said Reinald wearily from his comfortable chair by the fire. “I suppose you want to reflood the Lake.”
Belial and Magariz looked at him in surprise, then turned back to Jack.
Jack nodded. “Yes. If the Lake is reflooded, then Sigholt will be all but impregnable except to Gorgrael himself – and even he would hesitate to ask for entry at the Keep’s gates.” If Gorgrael got as far as the gates. “And reflooding the Lake may bring Zeherah back.”
“You’re not sure,” Magariz said.
Jack suddenly looked ashen and worn out. “No. I am not sure. She was tied to the Lake, but not completely. She could have left it, as all the other Sentinels have currently left their Lakes. If it was drained – by one of the criminal Dukes of Ichtar, I suspect – that would not of itself automatically have killed her. She could have continued to haunt the Lake site, grieving, but not mortally wounded. But there is no sign of her at all.”
For long moments there was silence, then Arne broke in with his customary bluntness. “How do you intend to reflood the Lake?”
Belial smiled. Trust Arne to ask the practical question.
“I have spent the past three weeks making sure that it can be done, Arne,” Jack replied. “There’s a narrow gully behind Sigholt that runs back into the Urqhart Hills about half a league. It is overgrown with shrubs and weeds now, but I think that once it was a waterway.
“The gully leads into a small cavern. Inside the cavern there is a blockage of rocks. It is too neat, too regular to be natural. I think it is a plug placed over the spring that fed the Lake. If we can remove it then the water will once more flow down to the Lake.”
“Can we?” Belial asked. “Do you think we can unblock it?”
“You have three thousand men, Belial. If we can’t do it with three thousand, then no-one will ever do it.” Jack paused. “But it is not simply the blockage in the cavern itself. We will have to clear the gully of some of the obstructions that have fallen from the rocky walls since the water stopped flowing, and we will have to clear a path about Sigholt itself.”
Belial frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jack came and stood before the fire. “There is a deep depression about Sigholt that has been filled with rubble and boulders. I think the water flowed down through the gully until it reached Sigholt, then divided in two to flow completely about the garrison, forming a natural moat before it flowed into the Lake. With the water surrounding