by A. E. Rayne
She nodded, trying not to inhale.
‘You want that, don’t you, Alys? A chance to start again? We can do it all differently, can’t we?’ The ship hit a wave, and they banged heads.
Arnon didn’t appear to notice.
Alys winced, nodding.
‘Maybe we’ll stay up North? Why go back to Ullaberg with all those bad memories?’ He stroked Alys’ frozen cheek, not noticing her shudder, and cupping her chin with his hand, he turned her face towards his. ‘You still want our family, don’t you? Our life together? Me?’
Alys tried not to feel anything, though when she looked into his eyes, she felt disgust. He held her face, twisting her head, and she nodded, trying to smile. ‘I do.’ She wondered if she could kill him. How she could kill him.
She remembered stabbing the knife into Torvig’s ear, knowing that she could kill if she had to, but would she?
After all these years, could she really kill Arnon de Sant?
He leaned in and kissed her, his wet beard dripping down her cloak, tongue in her mouth. Alys wanted to sob, to back away and scream. She wanted to be anywhere else in the world, but she closed her eyes, letting him do what he wanted. She couldn’t stop him. They were on a tiny ship in the dark, the waves swelling ominously. She just had to get Magnus to shore.
If they could reach Torsas, she would think of what to do then.
She tried not to flinch as Arnon moved his hands down over her breasts.
Torsas. They just had to get to Torsas.
‘Torsas!’ Eddeth announced loudly, hopping around.
The excitement of having a proper dream would never wear off, she was certain, grinning toothily. And unable to see much in the dark, she tripped, falling onto her knees with a yelp.
Vik swayed towards her, shaking his head, one hand out to help her up. ‘You’ve never been to sea before, have you, Eddeth?’
Eddeth smiled up at him, too thrilled to care about her aching knees as she staggered back to her feet. ‘No, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve seen where Alys is heading! Oh yes, I have!’
Stina was quickly by her side, half asleep; Sigurd too.
Jonas was still sound asleep in the bow, the noise they were making lost in the roar of the wind.
‘Torsas?’ Vik frowned. ‘You’re sure?’
‘I am indeed! I had the most perfect dream. I was in a tavern. Such a horrible place, it was, though the fire was warming.’ Eddeth shivered, the wind almost tearing strips off her. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a hot fire! A nice bowl of stew. Something hearty. Perhaps mutton? A few turnips –’
‘Eddeth,’ Stina grumbled, grabbing her flapping hood, desperate to keep the wind away from her throbbing ears. ‘Focus.’
Eddeth swallowed, gripping Vik’s hand. ‘Yes, yes, of course. Torsas! That’s what the man said. How long will you be staying in Torsas?’
‘And you saw Alys?’ Eddeth sounded even more scattered than usual, not filling Sigurd with any confidence.
‘I saw Alys!’ Eddeth nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, yes! Poor thing, she looked so sad. Wet too.’
‘And Magnus?’ Stina wondered. ‘Did you see him?’
‘No.’ That worried Eddeth. ‘Though it was a tavern, so maybe he stayed outside?’
Vik looked concerned himself, but he smiled, maneuvering a twitching Eddeth back to her fur. ‘It’s good news, Eddeth. Very good news. Now, you sit back down here before you trip over something else. I’ll go tell Jonas. ’
Eddeth was too distracted by the surprising softness of Vik Lofgren’s hands to hear what he was saying, but she nodded, collapsing onto the fur with a sigh.
She’d had a real dream!
Sigurd and Stina made their way to Falki, who looked half asleep, arms resting on the tiller.
‘Have you heard of Torsas?’ Sigurd asked as Vik joined them. ‘Been there?’
Falki nodded. ‘I’ve heard of it. Small fishing village past Orbo. Went there years ago. Should be able to find it easily enough.’ He was a stocky man with light-brown, closely cropped hair and a bulging scar that ran from his right ear over his nose. It didn’t appear to trouble him, though, as he had an open, cheerful face, always smiling – almost unheard of amongst Ottby helmsmen, who tended to growl and grouse as they ordered everyone about.
‘Good, well, you head there, then. How long do you think?’
‘Two days, I’d say, if the wind stays strong.’
Sigurd liked the sound of that. He yawned, turning to Vik. ‘Two days gives us plenty of time to think about what to do with Alys’ husband when we find him.’
‘If they’re still there. I know Torsas. There’s not much to it. If Lotta’s there, they’ll find her quickly. And if not? They’ll likely move on.’
Stina yelped, grabbing Vik’s arm as the ship tilted. He smiled at her. ‘Maybe you need to go and lie down with Eddeth?’
Stina nodded, though she doubted she’d be able to fall back to sleep. Out of all of them, she knew how Arnon had treated his wife over the years, and her fears were rising, knowing that they needed to find Alys before it was too late.
Falla had found Reinar and Elin a new bedchamber, though it did smell a little.
Elin wrinkled her nose. ‘I think something died in here! Or someone. Perhaps we can find somewhere else? It wasn’t so bad where we were.’
Reinar glanced back at the door, though it had closed, Falla disappearing down the corridor. His eyes moved to the wide stone hearth and its welcoming fire, and he shrugged off his cloak, trying to ignore the strong smell. Two days had rushed by in a blur as he tried to keep busy, working to distract himself from thoughts of Alys. Though he hadn’t needed to try hard at all – there had been so much to do.
Elin joined him by the fire, hands out. ‘It’s not like Ottby, is it?’
‘No, it’s not, but it’s warmer than sleeping on Fury. Drier too.’
Elin turned around, eyeing the double bed layered with furs. ‘Are you tired?’
‘I’m cold,’ Reinar decided. ‘You?’
‘I like the look of the bed. I doubt even that smell will keep me awake tonight!’ And leaving her husband behind, she walked towards the bed, yawning uncontrollably now. ‘Come and join me.’
Reinar’s eyes were on the armchairs flanking either side of the hearth. ‘In a while. It’s been a long few days, and I need a moment to think. We defeated the Vettels, but now what? I just need a moment to think without everyone asking me questions.’ He sat down with a groan, listening to Elin undressing behind him.
‘Maybe throw a few more logs on that fire!’ she called, wriggling under the furs. ‘It’s like ice in here!’
Reinar obliged, getting up to add two more logs, and sitting back down again, he stared at the flames, remembering the feel of Alys in his arms.
Jonas’ words rang sharply in his ears. ‘Make your choice, Reinar. Make it and stick to it.’
But there was no choice, Reinar knew, just a need to let go.
He loved Elin. He was loyal to Elin. He had made an oath before the gods to honour and love her. To protect her for as long as he lived.
He couldn’t break that oath.
No matter what happened, Reinar knew that he could never break his oath to his wife.
Ulrick’s wife was a puzzle and a worry, and Lotta couldn’t sleep as she mulled it all over.
Bergit had taken ill at sea, quickly getting worse as they’d arrived at Torsas. She had been bedridden and feverish, with a hacking cough, shivering uncontrollably. And then, after one visit from the healer, she had bounced out of bed, demanding they leave, no sign that she’d ever been sick at all.
‘Magic.’
She heard the voice, and sitting up, Lotta glanced around the ship. The only woman on board was Bergit, though, and she was sound asleep beside Ulrick.
Though it had certainly sounded like a woman.
Lotta lay back down, trembling with both cold and fear now. Her fur was wet and heavy on top of her, and she thought of
how much she wanted to be lying next to her mother, feeling her arms cradling her like a baby.
Magic.
That word was more terrifying than any Lotta had ever heard.
She remembered her father, who had been dead but was now alive and coming after her.
Magic.
Eddeth had tried to fall back to sleep, but her body was vibrating with excitement, and no matter how long she kept her eyes closed, no sleep would come. In the end, she decided to stop flopping about like a whale, disturbing Stina, and go for a walk, wondering if Vik was still awake. So, grinning, arms swinging around, trying not to fall over, Eddeth made her way to the mast, where she stopped, inhaling a cold breath.
‘I thought you’d be after more dreams,’ Jonas said, joining her. He’d been woken by Vik with news of Torsas and had been too distracted to fall back to sleep himself.
Eddeth frowned. ‘Well, I’m exhausted from trying, but nothing else appears to be coming. Perhaps that was it? One dream and I’m done!’
Jonas smiled, his cloak flapping up into his face. He pushed it down, turning to Eddeth. ‘My wife was a dreamer, you know. Perhaps Alys said? She often went months without a dream.’
‘Did she?’ Eddeth was all bulging eyes and gaping mouth. ‘And they just returned?’
‘They did. I almost didn’t want them to, for sometimes, she saw dark things, and it unsettled her. But I always knew when her dreams had come back, for she would lurch out of bed as though Vasa herself was coming for her!’ It hurt to remember Eida, and yet memories of his wife kept him afloat in a sea of misery and loss.
‘Well, now I know how that feels. How Alys felt too. She was always jerking awake.’ Jonas said nothing, and Eddeth could almost feel his worry swelling around them both. ‘We’ll find them, don’t worry. I feel it.’
‘A dreamer’s sort of feeling?’
‘I’m not sure, but I feel it strongly. I do! And perhaps Alys can find us? She went into Reinar’s dream once, so perhaps she’ll come into one of ours?’
‘She certainly came into mine.’ Jonas’ heart ached thinking of what Arnon de Sant might be doing to Alys and Magnus. To Lotta, too, if he’d found her. ‘So there’s another reason to be sound asleep, Eddeth. Stop worrying about dreams, and start thinking about sleeping. Whether you dream or not, something useful might come your way, but you’ll never know, will you, unless you go to sleep.’
And deciding that Jonas was right, Eddeth spun around, arms out, swaying precariously as she headed back to her bed.
Falla rolled towards Lief, pressing up against him. He was struggling to sleep; she could almost hear him arguing with himself, still not certain about anything.
And she smiled.
‘It’s the right thing to do,’ she purred, fingering his chest hair. ‘You know it is.’
Lief grumbled nothing she could understand, and Falla smiled some more.
‘We have another child on the way.’ She stopped herself saying anything further, remembering Mother’s gleeful prediction that it was a girl. ‘And what did you imagine we’d do without you? If you’d given your life for Hakon, what would have happened to the three of us?’
‘I was never going to choose him over you, Falla. Never. I saw who he was. I just... it’s hard to abandon what you’ve always believed in. To leave behind who you were raised to be.’
‘If only Hakon had! His ash wouldn’t be drifting over the sea with Ivan’s, would it? He’d be lying in his bed with Karolina, alive and well, planning the arrival of his own child.’ Falla closed her eyes, suddenly sleepy. ‘You must be willing to bend, Lief Gundersen. To change direction when the gods tell you to. For if we don’t listen to them, we’ll all end up like Hakon. They see how things will go. They see who’s worthy. And you, my love, were saved. Saved to fight again. And you will, for there is a great war coming, and Ake Bluefinn will be looking for his most loyal lords to ride by his side.’
Lief sighed, not wanting to imagine such a thing.
And closing his eyes, he tried to get the image of Hakon’s dead body out of his mind.
Alys woke in a fright, gasping for air.
She felt odd, quickly seeking Magnus, who lay on the opposite side of the ship, guarded by the son of the helmsman, who seemed like the least threatening man on board. Magnus appeared perfectly still, and she was grateful for that, knowing his dangerous habit of sleepwalking.
Pale moonbeams illuminated the ship, and Alys looked up, seeing that the moon was almost full. She’d barely noticed it in days, so prevalent had the storms been. But now, gazing up at it, she felt a strong pull, thinking of the gods and Eddeth’s grandmother’s book.
Of Thenor too, who had come to her twice now.
He had sought her help, wanting her on his side.
In the silence, that stood out.
The gods were picking sides, choosing humans to fight alongside them.
A war was coming.
Turning around, Alys saw Arnon lying asleep, head on her fur, and she shivered, knowing that she was going to have to learn how to fight. Jonas may have taught her about swords and spears, knives and shields, but she had none of those. Not now. Not here on this tiny ship.
So now she was going to have to try and fight like a dreamer.
6
Tarl Brava had decorated the high table with the heads of his enemies.
Mirella chose not to react.
His wife held a hand over her mouth until she could no longer stand it. And pushing back her chair, she ran out of the hall.
‘I think you like teasing her,’ Mirella scolded gently.
Tarl grinned, throwing the last of his ale down his throat, quickly wiping his short black beard. ‘You think that’s what I like doing? Teasing? Mirella, my sweet, but I have no time for games, not when there’s a kingdom to conquer and more enemies to decapitate!’
Mirella sat like a statue. She was a tall woman with a long neck. Elegant and refined. Quiet spoken. Rarely raising her voice.
Tarl Brava was the complete opposite of his dreamer, though he was tall and somewhat refined-looking himself, with a handsome face, sharp cheekbones and dark eyes. Dark hair and beard too. All cropped short. He was not a man who wasted time grooming. He cared about claiming victories, about gold and sons. He had little time for appearances and only a passing interest in conversation.
‘I don’t imagine Solveigh will be good company tonight,’ he murmured, hand creeping down the table, seeking Mirella’s. ‘But you... in my dreams, you are the best sort of company a man could desire. Like a wild beast, I think. Taking what you want.’
Mirella studied him, narrowing her almond-shaped green eyes. ‘You are no dreamer, Tarl Brava. Not at all.’ She moved her hand away, grabbing her goblet, sipping the wine. It was bitter, earthy, just as she liked it, and her throat warmed intensely. ‘I have no desire to share your bed, and nor will I. You know this.’
Tarl growled, annoyed at how well he knew it. ‘I could force you. Rape you. What’s to stop me?’ His eyes drifted to her lightly-lined lips, down to the swell of her breasts. She didn’t hide them, and Tarl’s eye was constantly drawn to them. Mirella was a middle-aged woman of forty-eight, though her body was as enticing as any he’d seen, and Tarl found it impossible to concentrate when she was around.
‘I would stop you,’ Mirella promised. ‘Try, and I will show you, but if I do, you’ll never be a king. Never see your heirs born. Never sit on the throne in Stornas, the Sun Torc around your neck.’
Tarl sat back, grabbing a mutton bone from his plate, gnawing angrily on it. ‘You think I should sit in Stornas? You see me down there?’
‘Once you see Stornas, you will wish to stay in the South, I’m sure. They have summers, warmth and light. Grass to cover mountains. Soil soft enough to dig. It is not like Orvala. Not so bleak and lifeless.’
‘Yet, Orvala was once like that, from what you tell me, so why can’t we just make it that way again? Surely your friends, the gods, can help us when we win
?’
Mirella placed her goblet on the table, eyes on the four heads arrayed before her, ghoulish faces turned her way. ‘The gods will help us, of course. Our gods, but you will need more than them on your side. Ake Bluefinn will mount a great army, and how will you stop him if you kill every man in the North? I have warned you, but you don’t listen. You must stop killing everyone, Tarl!’
Tarl looked surprised, moving his chair until his leg was touching Mirella’s. ‘I’m sitting here only because I’ve been killing every man in the North!’ he laughed, voice booming. They sat alone at the high table, barely noticing anyone else was present. The busy hall was noisy, ringing with voices, all trying to rise higher, wanting their story of the latest battle to be heard. ‘You think I shouldn’t care about those men who prowl around my borders, threatening my people? That I should invite them in? Make peace?’ His face contorted, the mere thought of it distasteful.
‘Yes, I do. Now is the time for alliances. For building your own great army. You cannot think to defeat Ake with the men you have, Tarl, for you simply don’t have enough.’
Tarl knew Mirella was right, but the thought of negotiating? With enemies?’ He patted one of the heads before him. ‘You think I shouldn’t have killed them? These so-called lords?’
Mirella looked nonplussed, barely troubled by the heads. ‘It hardly matters now, though those men had little to offer you. There are others worthy of your attention. Enemies you can turn into allies. Gather them close, and you will succeed. That is what my dreams tell me.’
Smiling, Tarl lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. ‘Well, if you’ve dreamed it, Mirella, I will listen to you. I must, of course, but there are other ways to convince me more... thoroughly, wouldn’t you say?’
Mirella ignored him, returning her eyes to the heads, tugging her hand away from his.
