by A. E. Rayne
He heard Ollo shout out as he lost his balance, skating over. ‘Hold on to something!’ he yelled, angry that anyone was still moving about. ‘We’re going up again!’
Eddeth heard him, eyes bursting open. She pulled her knife from its scabbard, dropping down to the deck, aching knees in the water. And thinking quickly, she tried to bring every protective symbol to mind, hearing laughter echoing around her like a flock of hungry birds.
Sigurd couldn’t hear any laughter, but he could hear a raven cawing loudly, and tipping back his head, he tried to find it.
‘Sigurd!’
Dropping his head, he saw Vik staring at him, and letting go of his rope, he stuck out a hand, swaying across the deck, grabbing hold of him. ‘What?’
‘Anyone wearing mail! They need to take it off! Now!’
‘What?’ But Sigurd knew what Vik meant. Dagger was flying over the waves, dropping down with a creaking thud, and they were in danger of being swallowed whole. He nodded, letting Vik go, turning back around. ‘Take off your mail! Take it off now! Untie yourself from the ship! Take off your mail! Cloaks too!’
Panic.
Mail wasn’t easy to get off at the best of times, but with wet, frozen, slippery fingers that were shaking with fear? Men turned to their friends in desperation, searching for help. Sigurd looked back at the stern where Eddeth was on her feet again, quickly losing her balance. ‘Eddeth!’
Dagger dove towards the sea, and Eddeth rolled down the deck like a ball of yarn. Aldo scrambled to his feet, hurrying after her, snatching a corner of her cloak, his own feet skidding; relieved when Sigurd grabbed hold of him.
‘Get back! Sit down!’ And growling at them both, Sigurd aimed for Ludo, who had wriggled out of his mail and was debating whether it was safe to put his cloak back on. ‘You alright?’
Ludo shook his head, shivering uncontrollably. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘No idea!’
Dagger’s mast, which had been creaking ominously, snapped in half, the top quickly whipped away by the wind, which was tearing at them now, threatening to lift them both off the deck.
Jonas swung around, eyes bulging in horror. He thought of Alys and Magnus and Lotta, wondering what they were going to do to help them now. Standing up, he pushed against the wind, making his way to Vik. Whatever happened, he wanted to be with his best friend.
‘We’re going down!’ Vik called. ‘You got everything off?’
Jonas nodded. ‘You?’
‘I don’t sail with armour!’ Vik winked. ‘Who would do that?’ He glanced around at Sigurd and Ludo, who were struggling with their balance as they both tried to pull off Sigurd’s armour, seeing a wobbling Ollo nearby, trying to squeeze out of his brand new mail shirt.
‘Water’s going to be cold!’ Jonas’ teeth were already chattering as Dagger heeled violently to starboard. He grabbed hold of Vik, who almost fell over the gunwale. ‘Steady now!’
Freezing seawater sloshed over their boots, the wind slapping wet hair into their eyes, and hoods up over the backs of their heads.
Sigurd stumbled towards them, tripping, just catching hold of Jonas’ arm. ‘Where are we?’ he yelled at Vik, trying to steady himself. ‘Where’s the shore?’
Vik didn’t dare take his hands off the tiller, but he turned his head, nodding to the west. ‘That way! We swim that way!’
Sigurd thought of Bolli, who loved Dagger.
He loved Dagger.
It couldn’t end like this.
Dagger was tilting into the sea, everyone scrambling up the port gunwale now, clinging to the shield rack, to any rope they could find.
Sigurd blinked, trying to think, hearing that raven cawing again.
Was it just in his mind?
‘Grab a shield!’ he cried. ‘Grab a shield!’ He wasn’t sure if it would help, but likely some couldn’t swim.
‘I can’t swim!’ Aldo panicked beside Eddeth and Ludo.
‘We won’t have to swim, will we?’ Stina stared at Ludo, who kept his arm around her as Dagger kicked up into the waves again, jerking his spine. ‘Ludo?’
Without his cloak and his mail, Ludo felt vulnerable and cold. Turning to Stina, he gripped her hands. ‘We’re going to swim. Can you? Swim?’
Stina nodded. She’d spent her life living by a beach, and she could swim well.
Eddeth hadn’t swum since she was a girl. Or perhaps not even then?
She couldn’t remember.
Lips clamped together, she shuddered with terror, trying to ignore the squeaking, creaking, ailing ship and the growing panic of her sodden companions.
Her symbols hadn’t worked.
The storm was intensifying, and the ship was breaking all around them like trees being felled in a forest. Her cloak swung around her, and she felt like a bird flapping its wings, trying to escape danger.
And then she heard a voice.
‘You will sink like a stone, dreamer! You and your friends will drop to the bottom of the sea! And I will send my hungry serpent to feast upon you, gnawing on your feeble bones! After what you did to him, he would like that, I’m sure!’
The laughter was joyous, and Eddeth was quickly furious. ‘You think I would allow that to happen?’ she bellowed into the storm, surprising Stina, who stumbled away from her.
‘Hold on!’ Vik roared, sensing an enormous wave building on their port side. ‘Hold on!’
‘You will not kill us!’ Eddeth yelled, pulling away from Aldo, trying to think, voices and images fighting for her attention.
Sink like a stone?
Eddeth didn’t think so. But what could she do?
Lightning cleaved the sky like Eskvir’s golden blade, and she saw Alys, as though she was standing by the mast, hand out to her. ‘Your stone saved me, Eddeth. When I couldn’t breathe, when that old dreamer was trying to kill me, your symbol stone saved me.’
And spinning around, almost falling over, Eddeth saw the bucket of kindling rolling, its contents scattering across the deck. ‘I need wood!’ she spluttered, turning to Ludo. ‘Small pieces of wood! Hurry!’
‘Are you alright?’
Reinar had rolled away from Elin and was lying on his back, staring at the rafters.
Elin wriggled towards him, placing a hand on his chest. ‘Reinar?’
‘I... don’t know. Just a bad feeling. I can’t stop shivering.’
‘You need more furs. Here.’ And Elin sat up, pulling the furs up from the bottom of the bed. ‘It’s not the warmest chamber, is it?’
But Reinar barely heard her as he stared up at those dark rafters, trying to understand what was happening.
His heart was thundering, his body shivering.
His brother’s screams echoing in his ears.
Dagger was holding together. Holding on.
And so were they.
Just.
The waves were bigger than any Vik had encountered, and for the first time in years, he thought he might actually vomit.
Many were.
He could see Ollo, grasping hold of the now-empty port shield rack, head over the side. More beside him. The crew had stripped off their mail. Most had a shield on their back, hoping they wouldn’t need it, hoping they could hang on long enough for the storm to pass.
But it wasn’t just a storm, Vik was sure.
It was an attack.
He sensed Eddeth hopping around behind him, though he couldn’t even turn his head to see what was happening. The wind was a deafening bellow now, aching his ears, freezing his face, the waves swelling and rolling. Thunder crackled overhead, clouds sinking lower, Dagger creaking and groaning beneath him. Jonas stood to his right, holding on, eyes peeled open, trying to give him some warning of what was coming next.
Both of them feared that Dagger wouldn’t hold on much longer.
‘Another!’ Eddeth cried, passing the stick to Ludo and taking the next one from Aldo. She’d quickly scratched protective symbols onto a pile of sticks, though would it help them?
‘Why so sad?’ Arnon grabbed Alys’ chin with a frozen hand, jerking it up. He was drunk and giddy with it. Bending down, he kissed Alys until she wanted to gag.
She couldn’t answer his question.
Eventually, he stepped back, breathless, smiling at her. ‘Soon, we’ll be in Orvala. We’ll find Lotta, and then what? Where should we go then, my beautiful dreamer? Close your eyes now. Close your eyes and find the path ahead.’
He reminded her of Hakon. Her brother.
Who was dead.
Alys closed her eyes, seeing Arnon lying on the beach, Sigurd’s arrow fluttering in his chest. He had been dead. Dead. Not dying, not injured, but dead. And Alari had brought him back to life, knowing what a true punishment it would be. And now that vengeful goddess was trying to kill her grandfather and her friends, hoping to cause even more pain.
Why? To avenge an old witch?
All this effort for Mother Arnesson?
Alys wasn’t sure. Though what else could it be?
Who else could it be?
‘What do you see?’ Arnon had slumped down beside her, arm over her shoulder, a cup of ale in his hand.
Alys could smell him. The noise of the storm and the chill of the rain were both less invasive than the stench of her husband. She tried to see Jonas and Vik, Ludo and Sigurd. Eddeth and Stina too.
Dagger had lost her mast, lightning had torn through her bow.
And then what?
Alys squeezed her eyes shut, looking for an answer, but she couldn’t see anything at all.
13
Eddeth kept trying to speak, but every time she opened her mouth, more water rushed in.
It was too dark to see anything more than the occasional hint of land in the distance, but she could feel many things: the terror of her legs swishing helplessly below her; the icy grip of the water making everything feel so heavy; the swirling maelstrom of the storm crashing above her head.
‘Eddeth!’
Recognising Vik’s voice, Eddeth’s mouth opened, readying a shout, and then a wave rolled over her, and she was driven under the water, pushed down into its murky depths.
Jonas was beside Vik. ‘Bit cold!’ He was paddling like his old dog, Digger, trying to keep himself warm. It wasn’t his first shipwreck. Being as old as he was, it wasn’t even his second either. He knew that they hadn’t been far from shore when Dagger had lost her fight with Hartu, the malevolent Goddess of the Sea.
They weren’t far, but not close either. Close would have been a leisurely swim across a river on a hot summer’s day, where being submerged in the water felt like a gift from the gods, not a curse. Not survival and work and terror and life-threatening cold.
‘B-bit!’ Vik agreed, tugging Aldo after him. The boy seemed intent on drowning, and Vik hadn’t let him out of his sight since they’d plunged into the sea. ‘Use your hand, Aldo!’ he called. ‘P-paddle!’
Aldo did as he was told, wanting to help. He’d lost his shield as soon as he’d tumbled into the water, sinking quickly, panicking, relieved when Vik had dived down after him, pulling him back to the surface. He shook uncontrollably, body jerking, but digging his hand into the water, he started paddling.
‘This way!’ Vik called, knowing that they needed to stay together and keep moving most of all. He turned to Jonas, who’d been beside him since they’d lost sight of Dagger, watching as his friend was snatched away by a wave. ‘Jonas!’
Panic was their enemy now.
Vik wanted to grab his amulet and pray for Thenor’s help, but he needed both his weary arms to keep them afloat, so, eyes open, he focused on pulling Aldo along.
Sigurd could see them as he rose up out of a wave, spluttering, gasping for air. Every time he thought he was getting on top of things, the sea would drag him back down or knock him sideways. He hadn’t seen Ludo. Not once. He could see Ollo bobbing along with his shield, screeching constantly.
But no sign of Ludo anywhere.
‘Sigurd!’ Eddeth popped up behind him, hand in the air, coughing up a mouthful of seawater. ‘Sig–’ And then another wave crashed down on top of her.
Sigurd spun around, arms and legs working furiously, trying not to succumb to the cold, unable to see Eddeth anywhere. And then he was pulled under, mouth quickly closed, eyes open in panic. The salty water stung, and it was impossibly dark, still stormy, lightning shooting into the sea. And catching a glimpse of a sinking Eddeth, Sigurd swam towards her, feeling his swordbelt slapping against his leg, not wanting to abandon his precious sword.
Though rather that, he realised, than his life.
Eddeth turned towards him, eyes bulging in panic, sinking quickly, but Sigurd wrapped a hand around her wrist, pulling her to him, pushing her up towards the sky. And feet kicking, he followed her, shivering, desperate for air.
They broke the surface, Eddeth spluttering and coughing, Sigurd beside her, holding her close. Twisting his head left and right, trying to see in the darkness, he didn’t know where they were. He didn’t know which direction to head in.
Eddeth clung to him, teeth chattering in his ear. ‘There!’ she cried, seeing Vik’s head bobbing in the distance. ‘There!’
And head down, keeping Eddeth close, Sigurd started paddling.
‘You shouldn’t worry,’ Elin tried, hand on Reinar’s back, hoping to encourage him back to bed. Unable to lie still, he’d gotten up, moving to a chair by the fire. And adding a few more logs, he’d sat there, staring at the flames.
‘Shouldn’t worry?’ Reinar looked around, confusion in his eyes. ‘I’ve done nothing but worry about Sigurd my whole life. Since the day my father brought him home.’
‘Why?’ Elin didn’t understand. ‘Because he was your little brother?’
Reinar shook his head. ‘No, it was always more than that. I feared he was cursed. For a long time, I thought the gods would send Vasa to come and take him in the night. Gerda told me they might. Sometimes, she said she hoped they would. That there was something wrong with Sigurd. Some reason he’d been left out. She said that no parent would leave their child in a forest in the depths of winter unless there was a terrible reason.’
‘Many do it because they simply can’t feed another child.’
‘I know that now, but when I was a boy, a small boy who’d just been given a brother?’ Reinar shook his head. ‘Gerda was jealous or angry, or I don’t know what, and her words may have meant little to her in that moment she spat them out, but they meant something to me. I carried them with me like a heavy weight I could never put down.’
‘But Sigurd’s not a boy anymore. He’s a man, and he’s lived this long. You can’t still think he’s cursed?’ Elin thought of her own brother, feeling the loss of him like a gaping hole; a wound that wouldn’t heal.
Reinar wasn’t sure. ‘Why not? We still don’t know who he really is or why my father found him like that.’
Elin frowned, gripping his hand. ‘Though he’s not a boy, Reinar. He’s a man. And if he’s cursed, he has the power to fight it. Don’t worry now, please. Come back to bed. You can’t help him from here, can you? Whatever Sigurd has to face, he has to face it alone.’
It wasn’t comforting, but it was the truth.
And nodding, heart still thumping, Reinar allowed himself to be led back to bed.
Now it was simply cold.
They rolled with the dark waves, clinging to each other, trying to stay awake because the cold had a way of making you feel that you needed to go to sleep.
Not at first.
At first, you were consumed with the shaking and the chattering and the fear of drowning, worrying about being str
uck by lightning or losing your friends. Then the urgency of that dulled somehow, nothing seeming as important anymore; the cold enveloping you, making you slow and muddled.
Eventually, you felt so heavy that the only thing on your mind was the need to stop.
To stop paddling and kicking.
To just close your eyes and –
The raven cawed loudly, and Sigurd blinked, seeing its wings gleaming in a burst of lightning, its cries piercing his sleepy veil, and he gripped Eddeth tightly, paddling with some intensity now. ‘H-h-hold on!’ he shouted, spitting out water. ‘Hold on, Ed-ed-eth!’ The raven reminded him of Tulia, and he saw her scowling at him, yelling at him, urging him to fight the cold, to get out of the sea.
The shore was close, she promised.
The shore was close...
Despite the raging storm and the stomach-churning sea, Arnon was sound asleep in the bow with most of the crew. The helmsman, Borr, was at the tiller, working hard, and his son, Ebben, had been left to keep an eye on Alys and Magnus.
Alys couldn’t sleep. She had no idea how anyone could sleep through the terrifying storm threatening the small ship.
Though likely the ale had something to do with it.
Her worries for her grandfather and her friends kept intensifying, blazing like a fire, though she’d seen nothing for hours now. Just terrifying, empty darkness.
The black cloak was a gift, keeping her warmer than she’d imagined possible in such brutal weather, but she pushed back her hood, smiling at Ebben, motioning him over. He glanced back at his father, but Borr’s attention was fixed on the waves. So, hunching his shoulders, Ebben stumbled over to Alys, squatting down in front of her.
‘I want to see my son, please. Just for a moment. I need to talk to him.’
Ebben’s eyes narrowed, but Alys blinked at him with such desperation that he sighed, unable to resist. And nodding, he turned away, heading across the deck to where Magnus sat, just as awake as his mother. He lifted the boy to his feet, hurrying him back to Alys.
