Blood of the Raven: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 3)

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘We have to head for shore!’ Bolli insisted angrily. ‘Sea’s freezing!’

  Reinar didn’t want to head for shore. He wanted to find his brother before it was too late. They had flown north on a wind that had their sails full and their men gripping the gunwales as they emptied their bellies again and again.

  The wind had been helpful, but the snow...

  Bolli was looking straight ahead, eyes on the water. He could barely see a ripple. The wind hadn’t dropped, though. It sheared his face as he turned to Reinar, a sense of inevitability in his eyes.

  Bjarni felt torn, one foot in each camp. Going ashore wasn’t something any of them wanted, but to make a mistake now?

  ‘We want to keep the fleet, don’t we?’ Bolli grumbled. ‘All of Ake’s ships too? What do you think the ice will do to them? Do you want us to spend the winter out here, keeping them afloat?’

  That was a good point, and looking at a shrugging Bjarni, Reinar nodded. ‘Alright! Alright, we’ll head ashore!’ Teeth gnashing in fury, he snatched at his cloak, wanting to tuck it down his trousers to stop it flapping away. Lifting his head to the stern, he saw Elin crouched down beside Holgar, realising that if they were going to finish their journey on foot, he would have to send them home.

  After leaving Arnon behind, Alys hadn’t returned to the hall, wanting some time alone. She hadn’t been truly alone since the night Hakon had tried to rape her. So much had happened since then that she’d barely had a chance to think. And now she needed to think more than ever.

  Of what to do about her mother, her children, her husband...

  Arnon had been oddly distant, which was a relief, though he hadn’t appeared inclined to help her escape. His fear of Mirella appeared strong, and Alys shared in it, wondering what Mirella had the power to do. Though she had grown tired of being a prisoner, and her desire for freedom eventually overrode every other fear. She needed to get her children away from Orvala. To find her grandfather and Vik.

  She walked to the piers, emptied of most of their ships now, the sea frozen like a great blue floor before her. The cold was more intense than she’d ever experienced, and Alys’ body ached as she walked, the snow terrorising her.

  She saw images that confused her, and stopping, Alys glanced over her shoulder, convinced that someone was watching her. And then Thenor’s voice reverberated deeply in her ears. ‘Not every path leads where you want it to, Alys, but eventually, in time, you will wind up exactly where you need to be.’

  She spun around, and though there was no sign of the Father of the Gods, the echo of his voice lingered. And taking a deep breath, Alys headed back to the hall, knowing that she couldn’t hide from her mother forever.

  ‘You’re a wonder!’ Eddeth declared, rubbing her hands over the flames, eyes on Vik, who had led them to an enormous cave at the foot of a range of mountains. One of the crew had caught a couple of squirrels, and he was busy cooking them over the fire with Aldo, and they were getting warmer by the moment, stomachs rumbling while the snow piled up outside.

  ‘We should move the horses,’ Ollo grumbled. ‘It stinks in here!’

  ‘Do you want to have a horse come morning, Ollo Narp?’ Jonas wondered. ‘You leave them out there and they’ll be dead. Or gone. Either way, you’ll be walking.’

  That shut Ollo up, and everyone was grateful for that.

  ‘So now you know where we are,’ Ludo said, eyeing Vik, who was rubbing down Frostbite, wanting to dry him quickly. ‘How long till we’re in Orvala?’

  ‘Three or four days,’ Vik guessed. ‘Ridden that way myself years ago. Slept in this very cave. They call the mountains The Hands. Can’t see much in this weather, but they’re usually hard to miss!’

  ‘Well, lucky for us you didn’t,’ Jonas decided. ‘My hands are more grateful than they can say. And my toes!’ His boots were off, drying, his socks too, and he leaned back, resting on his arms, cracking his toes.

  Stina cringed. ‘That sounds awful!’

  Jonas laughed. ‘You wait till it’s your turn. Old age is full of surprises. Most of them unpleasant!’

  Vik was ten years younger than his friend, but he nodded in agreement. ‘Though there’s still life in you for one more journey, I’d say.’

  ‘I’d say you’re right,’ Jonas agreed. ‘But only just.’

  Ollo felt too uptight to join in any fun. He glared at Aldo, who was fussing over the squirrels, wanting him to hurry up. ‘And what about Orvala? You think we can just turn up and take Alys away? What about this dreamer who has her now? We need to know more about that, don’t we?’ He turned to Jonas, whose smile quickly slipped away. ‘You need to be straight with us, Jonas. Last I knew, your daughter was dead. Now she’s up in Orvala. How’s that possible? What’s going on?’

  Jonas felt exposed, uncomfortable with the attention. He’d spent decades running from the truth, though now he had little choice but to face it head-on.

  At least some of it.

  ‘Mirella left us on bad terms many years ago. She’s a dreamer, trained as a dreamer, but her training took her down a... different path to her mother. A dark path.’

  Ollo took a seat beside Jonas, wet boots near the fire, longing for a sip of ale.

  ‘She married Jesper Vettel. Alys is his daughter.’

  That had more than one mouth dropping open, but ignoring them all, Jonas continued. ‘As far as I’m aware, Jesper never knew about Alys, and Mirella left her to be raised by us. We kept her safe, away from her father, who would’ve likely killed her. They don’t accept daughters in that family,’ he added, seeing Eddeth’s confusion.

  ‘Oh, poor Alys.’

  Jonas nodded, agreeing. It had always stuck in his throat that Alys had such a cruel father and a troubled mother.

  Blinking, he kept going. ‘We didn’t see Mirella. We didn’t have anything to do with her.’ The lie didn’t sit well, but lies often covered secrets too painful to share. ‘We left her to her life, and she left us to raise Alys. So now, I don’t know. You’re telling me that she’s in Orvala?’ Jonas shook with cold and fear, not wanting to imagine what his daughter had turned into in the years since he’d last laid eyes on her. ‘Why would she be in Orvala?’

  Eddeth was none the wiser, but she tried to pull the threads, staring into the flames. ‘She seemed powerful. In charge. As though everything was her idea. Oh yes, all the power was in her hands!’ And picking her wart, Eddeth turned her attention back to Jonas, wanting to hear more.

  ‘She must be the lord’s dreamer,’ Vik decided. ‘It would make sense.’

  Jonas agreed, the thought of that worrying him further.

  ‘Tarl Brava,’ Ollo said with a shiver. ‘Not a lord to tangle with from what I hear. Has no qualms burning people alive.’

  ‘Sounds bad,’ Vik mused, eyes on the stick Aldo was holding over the fire. ‘Turn it over, boy. We need to get them cooking before the sound of Ollo’s belly brings every wild beast our way.’ He glanced at the mouth of the cave where snow blew inside, building into a considerable wall, though they were far enough away not to be too troubled by the determined blizzard.

  ‘It sounds bad for Alys and the children,’ Stina said quietly. ‘Do you think your daughter would hurt them?’

  Jonas was surprised by the question. ‘I... don’t know. I don’t know why she has them. If Eddeth’s right, I honestly don’t know why she’d have them with her.’

  ‘Well, when the storm stops, we can get back on the road,’ Eddeth decided. ‘And then you’ll have your answers, won’t you? In a few days, we’ll find out!’

  Elin didn’t want to go.

  ‘I need you to look after Holgar,’ Reinar insisted. ‘No one else can.’

  Elin knew that was true, but she worried that it wasn’t the real reason Reinar was sending her back to Ottby with Bjarni and two ships full of gold and men, Holgar included. ‘But why are you really going north? Why won’t you tell me?’

  They were sheltering beneath an overhanging rock, j
ust managing to keep out of the snow, while Bolli and Bjarni bellowed orders in the distance. They were lucky enough to have found a sheltered cove in the middle of nowhere. Reinar didn’t know the North, he didn’t know where they were, but he planned to leave some men behind to guard their beached fleet. Though, he realised, with the sea freezing, the safety of their ships was unlikely to be a problem.

  He sighed, hearing his wife’s desperation. ‘I would if I could. I’m sorry that I can’t, but you have to trust me. Please.’

  It wasn’t enough, and Elin didn’t trust him at all. In all their time together, she had never felt such a deep mistrust of her husband. He was keeping secrets. He was having dreams. He was hiding everything from her, and it made her wild and scared and hurt most of all.

  ‘Fine.’ And turning abruptly, Elin stumbled away from Reinar, heading for the snow-covered lump that was Bjarni, who was on board Fury, hands cupped around his mouth, trying to ensure that the chests of gold were evenly dispersed around the ships. Berger stood beside him, unhappy to be sending the gold with Bjarni, busy grumbling in his ear.

  Reinar watched Elin, wanting to go after her, though he didn’t know what he could say to make her feel differently. Sigurd was Thenor’s secret.

  It wasn’t his to share.

  Elin turned around with venom in her eyes, surprised that he wasn’t following her. And dropping his head, realising that he needed to help Bolli and Bjarni move everyone along, Reinar headed across the beach, unable to raise a smile.

  Alys made her way back to the hall, lips frozen, limbs shaking, ignoring her children as they rushed at her with questions and problems. She pushed her way to the nearest fire, where she bent over, hands stretched out, desperate to feel some warmth.

  ‘Perhaps you need a thicker cloak?’ Mirella suggested from her chair in the corner, where she sat by a flaming brazier, watching her daughter.

  Alys looked around in surprise, not having noticed her, and then Lotta was tugging her dress, and Magnus was grabbing her shaking arm, and her attention was back on her children.

  ‘Where did you go?’ Lotta wanted to know.

  ‘For a walk,’ Alys smiled. ‘To see your father.’

  Magnus didn’t look happy about that. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’s your father. He wanted to know how you were.’ The lie sounded ridiculous, and she could see that no one believed it.

  ‘And what will he do now?’ Mirella wondered, leaving the brazier behind. ‘Your caring husband? Where will he hibernate over winter?’

  Mirella’s green eyes were penetrating, and Alys found herself working hard to keep her mother out of her thoughts. She saw a symbol on a page from Salma’s book, and drawing all her attention to it, she strengthened the image in her mind. ‘He’s inclined to stay in the city,’ she said, eventually. ‘His men are frozen in, and they seem quite happy to spend the winter in the tavern.’

  Mirella laughed, turning at the sound of running water, and eyes on the squatting puppy, she glowered at Lotta. ‘I shall throw that puppy into the storm if you don’t take him outside more often!’

  ‘He’s just a baby,’ Lotta insisted, barely fazed by her angry grandmother. ‘Babies can’t help it, don’t you know?’

  Alys tried not to smile. Her daughter had been born believing that she knew best, and Alys wasn’t sure that Mirella knew what she was walking into, threatening Lotta’s puppy. ‘I’ll take him outside,’ she said, stooping down to pick up the wriggling ball of fluff. ‘You two go and find something to clean up that mess.’

  Magnus didn’t look thrilled about that. ‘He’s Lotta’s puppy,’ he protested. ‘She should do it!’

  ‘What?’ Lotta was horrified, spinning towards her brother. ‘I thought we agreed to share? I said we could share!’

  ‘Only because you wanted me to take him outside.’

  That was true, but Lotta continued to pout indignantly, hands on her hips. ‘You said you would! We agreed. You said you would, Magnus!’

  Alys left them to it, glancing over her shoulder at a clearly perplexed Mirella, who didn’t know what to do with the arguing children. And turning back around, she smacked into Bergit Dyre. ‘Oh!’

  Bergit’s hands were out quickly, a scowl on her face. Then she saw the woman and her resemblance to both Mirella and her granddaughter, and she smiled. ‘I am sorry. The noise of that storm and those children! Can’t hear myself think!’

  Alys stared at her, seeing an image of Bergit tossing Lotta outside as though she was a rag doll. ‘You don’t like children?’

  Bergit was struck by the sharpness of Alys’ tone. ‘I... it’s been years since I was a mother. I’m not used to the noise. My daughter, she died many years ago. I could never have another.’

  Alys felt sorry for her then, despite any feelings of anger, for the loss of her children for even a few weeks had been almost impossible to bear. The puppy was squirming in her arms, sensing an escape was in the offering. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ she said, stepping past Bergit to the doors, the sniping escalating behind her.

  ‘Bergit!’ Mirella announced, pleased to see her. ‘You’ve come!’

  ‘You wished to see me, my lady?’ Bergit asked, surprised to have been called to the hall. She’d felt lost without Ulrick, working hard to find him a new cottage to come home to. Though at this time of year, everyone appeared more than happy with the cottages they already had, and few were looking to move elsewhere. The only options she’d found were the box-sized shed behind the tavern, and the perfect large house near the city wall, which Ulrick had insisted they couldn’t afford.

  Mirella spun around. ‘Children! Will you be quiet! Hurry to the kitchen and send a servant to clean up this mess, then go and play elsewhere!’ Quickly exasperated, she turned back to Bergit. ‘You can see why I’ve called you here.’

  Bergit frowned, sensing what Mirella was about to propose. ‘You wish me to watch the children?’

  ‘I do! Yes, I do, Bergit dear!’ And slipping her hand through Bergit’s arm, Mirella drew her towards the brazier.

  33

  ‘Are you ever going to tell me about this dream of yours?’ Bolli wondered, struggling to find any solid footing as they pushed through the snowy forest. ‘Not sure anyone’s ever been this way before!’ Leafless branches lay snapped in their wake as they tried to forge a path through the seemingly never-ending tangle. ‘Was it Alys?’

  Reinar was growing tired of the questions, though he didn’t blame anyone for wondering why they were on a mysterious journey into enemy territory to rescue his brother on the basis of one of his dreams. He sighed. ‘No. And leave it alone, Bolli. I’ll tell you when I can. If I can. I’d tell you now if I could, so just leave it. And trust me.’ He turned to his bedraggled-looking helmsman, seeing the confusion in his eyes, and smiling, he placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’ll get home as soon as we can, I promise, but not without Sigurd. I won’t leave him. Not up here. I can’t.’ Reinar thought of Thenor and his blue eyes, and he felt odd.

  Bolli nodded, promptly tripping over a tree root, tumbling into the snow.

  Berger laughed loudly behind them as Reinar helped Bolli up. ‘Might be best if you walk behind us. Let us make a path for you to follow, you being so old!’

  If he’d been tall enough, Bolli would have cuffed Berger around the ear, but instead, he spat a mouthful of snow in his direction and readjusted his cloak, wondering when they could stop for ale.

  Or where.

  Glancing around, he realised that the best thing they could do was keep going. There had to be a clearing around here somewhere.

  Berger was less bothered by the forest and the journey and more worried about the gold. They were bringing one chest with them to pay for Sigurd’s release, sending the rest back with Bjarni.

  But could they really trust Bjarni Sansgard to deliver it safely back to Ottby?

  Berger gnawed a fingernail, realising that there was little he could do about it now, feeling Ilene’s eyes boring
into his back.

  Puddle seemed to like the snow, and he padded along beside Alys with confidence as she walked out of the hall, down the steps, sometimes sinking, other times slipping when he encountered ice.

  ‘Lovely Alys...’ came the voice.

  Alys scanned the street, realising that she hadn’t been imagining things earlier. Someone was out there, watching her.

  Not Thenor, though. It was a woman’s voice.

  She spun in circles, cloak rising around her, but seeing no one, she clicked her tongue for the puppy to follow her as she headed away from the steps, down the wide street, snow wet on her face now.

  ‘... the loveliest of them all.’

  Alys blinked, working hard to recognise the voice.

  It was familiar.

  The puppy’s head was up, as though he could hear it too, and reminded of Winter, who had led her to her cloak, she followed Puddle as he bounded ahead of her now, turning abruptly down a narrow alley bordered by two rows of almost identical cottages, thatched roofs heavy with snow.

  Alys froze suddenly, fearing that Alari might be luring her into a trap, though the voice was older than that snarling goddess’, she was sure. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes sweeping the dark alley, but there was still no sign of anyone. And turning back around, Alys realised that Puddle had gone.

  Panicking, she ran forward. ‘Puddle? Puddle!’ There were narrow gaps between some of the cottages, some as wide as a man, and hearing a bark, she turned left, slipping between two cottages, heart pounding. Emerging into a dead end where a stone wall ran down the back of the buildings, Alys looked around, noticing an old shed. Made of timber, it appeared to be on its last legs, but the door was ajar, and sensing that the puppy had gone inside, Alys stepped closer. ‘Puddle?’ she called softly, hearing a whimper. And swallowing, Alys pushed open the creaking door, watching it wobble unsteadily, the howl of the wind disappearing into the distance now.