by A. E. Rayne
Painful too.
‘You must save Alys,’ Eida warned, pulling away, wanting to focus him. ‘Many years ago, someone took our daughter and turned her into something else. There is no saving Mirella now, so do not attempt it, Jonas. She is gone, I promise you. But Alys? She’s so desperate to learn, to help, to be loved by the mother who left her behind. I fear that she won’t see the truth until it’s too late. That she won’t do what’s necessary when faced with a heartbreaking choice.’
Jonas froze, seeing something in his wife’s eyes. ‘Necessary? You mean, kill her? You want Alys to kill Mirella?’
Eida shook her head. ‘Alys? No, I don’t think she could do such a thing. She can use a sword, as you taught her to. I’ve seen that. But kill her own mother?’
Jonas held her close. ‘I should never have left. That day... I had such a bad feeling. I thought it was about me, about the battle. I worried for Ake. I didn’t think we had the men. I thought I might die. I... I didn’t realise the bad feeling was because of you. That I would lose you!’
Pain never lessened. Loss was never replaced.
He was forever without Eida, the light of his life.
She turned her husband’s head towards her, tears in her eyes, touching his face. ‘You were saving Alekka from the Vettels, my darling. And saving Alekka is what you must do again. If Mirella has her way, Thenor will die. Those gods who support him will die. Alekka will be made whole again, though its people will be destroyed, ruled by tyrants, treated as nothing more than slaves. So you must stop her. You, Jonas. Don’t ask anyone else to do it. You must kill Mirella.’
Jonas shuddered at the thought of it, but he leaned forward, closing his eyes as Eida’s lips brushed his. He just wanted to stay with her for one moment longer. ‘Don’t go,’ he breathed desperately. ‘Please, Eida. Don’t go.’
But when he opened his eyes, she was gone.
48
Gudrum had been woken by the welcome news that Reinar Vilander was standing outside Orvala’s gates. So he left a sleeping Solveigh in bed with a kiss, promising her a perfect wedding day to come, and splashing cold water on his face, he rushed through the hall, heading down the main street to the guard tower.
Mirella and Raf went with him.
They had both been waiting for him, and pleasantly surprised by their presence, he’d insisted they follow him. He had no idea whether Reinar Vilander had a dreamer, though it would be useful to hear what his own dreamers had to say about their guest.
Gudrum smiled as he mounted the stairs to the ramparts, knowing that a lord with two dreamers was a powerful man indeed.
‘You have my brother!’ came the voice.
Gudrum looked over the rampart wall with a crooked smile, seeing the bear-like man wrapped in black furs. ‘I do!’
‘And you want my gold?’
‘I want your gold, yes! But more!’ Gudrum called down. ‘I want your company! Your presence at my wedding feast! For I am getting married this morning!’
Reinar laughed. ‘I’m supposed to trust you, am I? Walk into your nest of vipers with my eyes closed? Would you do such a thing?’
Gudrum wouldn’t.
‘I want a hostage!’ Reinar called. ‘Someone of value. Someone you care to lose! Give me your dreamer!’
Gudrum curled his hands into fists, not expecting that. He looked from Raf to Mirella, feeling torn.
To lose his dreamers? Either of them?
Raf was incredulous that he was even debating it. ‘Give him Mirella!’ she hissed. ‘You don’t know her. You can’t trust her.’ She eyed the dreamer with a scowl. ‘Besides, if you’re not planning on hurting his brother, what does it matter? You only want his gold, you said.’
Gudrum peered at Mirella, who remained calm, his thoughts veering wildly.
Reinar used the silence to his advantage, wanting to keep Gudrum on the back foot. Ludo and Berger flanked him, six more Ottby men standing just behind them, all of them lost in clouds of white breath smoke. ‘Unless you’re planning to kill me and my brother, why the hesitation, my lord? Or are you weighing up whether you can afford to lose one of your dreamers after you betray me?’
Gudrum froze, knowing then that Reinar Vilander most certainly had a dreamer of his own, for who would suspect a lord of having more than one dreamer? Even Ake Bluefinn had just the old crone seeing for him.
But Gudrum?
Gudrum had two beauties, and he sighed, turning back to the rampart wall. ‘No hesitation! None at all, my lord! My dreamers are merely fighting over who can tear themselves away from me! It’s not an easy choice!’ He turned back to the two women, one almost spitting in anger, the other perfectly calm, already knowing what Gudrum would do.
Willing him to do it.
And filled with confidence, Mirella turned to Raf. ‘It makes sense that you go. You’ll be safe with the Vilanders’ army.’
‘No!’ Raf protested as Gudrum grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. ‘No!’
He brought his lips to her ear, feeling how light she was, how easy it would be to pick her up and toss her over the rampart wall. Blinking, he smiled, feeling her body protesting his hold. ‘You have work to do, and whether it’s in here or out there, you’ll be helping me. I need you, Raf. I need your eyes and your ears. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. And you’ll return to me with knowledge. I trust you. You over Mirella. She would only help herself if I sent her out there. You know that. She would work against me. Here, I can keep an eye on her.’
Raf sank into his arms, nodding, grudgingly accepting the sense of his decision. ‘Alright.’
Gudrum stepped back from her, knowing that a lord only needed one dreamer, so it was better to keep the most experienced one.
Raf looked up at him, no expression on her face at all. ‘I will go,’ she said calmly, turning to the guard tower.
Gudrum was pleased, and so was Mirella, who inhaled a cold breath, letting it calm her nerves. She saw a vision of her father standing in the forest, and it unsettled her. And quickly blinking all thoughts of him away, she shifted her attention to Greppa, hoping he was keeping busy, doing as they’d planned.
The children were outside the cottage, playing with the puppy. The early morning streets were slippery, and they were having fun, sliding around as though they were skating, though Alys was certain that soon she would hear a great cry of pain. She smiled, shaking her head as she made the beds, picking things off the floor.
‘What do you want to do?’ Arnon asked from the table, head throbbing. He rested it in his hands, feeling a great rage building.
‘I thought we decided that last night,’ Alys said with some discomfort. She didn’t want to play games, though she needed Arnon out of the way, not causing trouble. Hearing a commotion and horns blowing loudly, she spun towards the door. ‘What’s that?’
Magnus rushed inside with red cheeks and a dripping nose. ‘They’re here! Reinar Vilander is at the gates!’
‘What?’ Alys shivered, trying not to let anything show on her face, surprised that she hadn’t seen that herself. The only dream she could remember had been Alari’s visit, and she’d woken up slightly muddled and distracted, barely focused on the day.
Magnus nodded excitedly, disappearing back outside. He popped his head around the door a heartbeat later. ‘We found a rope for Puddle. Can we go? Take him to see?’
‘Yes, but only to look. Only to see. Remind your sister to stay quiet!’
Magnus nodded vigorously. ‘Don’t worry, she won’t say anything!’ Excitement bubbled in his chest, and he just wanted to get going, so turning away from his worried mother, he disappeared into the street.
‘Will you go?’ Arnon wondered, jealousy burning like a fire in his belly.
Alys had slept in her cloak and boots. She’d wrapped the swordbelt around her waist, determined to keep it on, knowing how much trouble lingered on the horizon, waiting to be unleashed.
Alari had promised as much.
�
��I must.’ Alys was at the door when Arnon stood, grabbing her arm.
‘You’re still my wife, whatever you’ve become. Whatever I’ve become. You’re still mine.’
Alys turned back to him, resisting the urge to spit. She nodded patiently. ‘I know. I must see what’s happening, though. What it means for us.’
Arnon held on, squeezing her tightly. ‘You’re still mine,’ he insisted again, trying to convince them both.
Alys lied without blinking. ‘I’m still yours.’ And feeling Arnon release his hold on her, she turned to the door, hurrying outside.
Raf didn’t want to go, but looking back over her shoulder, she saw Mirella smiling at her encouragingly. They would be able to communicate, Mirella had promised, whispering in her ear as she’d followed her down the tower stairs, waiting while the gates were opened.
It was better than they could have hoped for.
Raf felt confused, Mirella’s sweetly-spoken words wrapping around her thoughts until everything became a blur. She thought of Gudrum and Sigurd and Tarl Brava, and then she was standing before the enemy, staring at a familiar-looking woman, who grinned at her with big teeth.
‘Don’t worry now, we’ll look after you,’ Eddeth smiled, wrapping an arm around Raf’s waist. ‘We have food! Not much, mind you. Not after Ollo Narp ran through it like a hungry bull, but something hot, I promise.’
Stina felt wary of the girl, who had a wild look in her huge eyes, wondering if she was dangerous. She glanced at Aldo, who was going to help watch the dreamer, hoping he’d sharpened his knife.
Reinar waited while Raf walked past before turning his back on the girl, his attention now fixed on Gudrum, who came towards them with open arms, black cloak rippling in the wind, a tall woman by his side.
Freckles on her nose. Green eyes.
Mirella, he knew.
Alys’ mother.
Mirella saw her father in the distance, willing him to keep his mouth shut. Gudrum knew little about her, and she wanted to keep it that way.
Jonas watched her, barely able to look at the woman he’d fathered.
The woman who had taken his wife away.
He wanted to kill her.
Men were drumming in the street.
Solveigh didn’t know why, and it unsettled her.
‘The guests are here!’ Bergit declared cheerfully, though she felt building waves of terror, convinced that bad things were on their way. Solveigh needed to cope, though, whatever came at them, and it had been left to Bergit to get her ready for the ceremony. She swept an arm around Solveigh’s bony back, ushering her towards the table where she had laid out the wedding dress Solveigh had worn when she married Tarl Brava.
Solveigh stared at the dress, wincing, as though in pain.
She had become deadened to nearly everything since Gudrum had arrived. He raped her as Tarl had raped her, and she was mostly numb to all of it, existing outside what was real. Alys had promised her an escape, a future where she could raise her child and live in peace, though Solveigh saw nothing ahead but darkness.
She couldn’t cry, though. Despite her deep pain and fear, she couldn’t cry.
‘Some weddings aren’t what we might have hoped for,’ Bergit tried. ‘At first. But you never know, Gudrum seems happy enough. Perhaps he’ll be a kind husband? A good lord?’ She doubted that was true, and her voice faded quickly as she cleared her throat. ‘Whatever the case, you must make the best of things.’ Picking up the ivory-coloured dress, Bergit realised that Solveigh couldn’t even lift a finger to help herself. So she laid the dress back on the table, working to remove Solveigh’s nightdress herself, gasping as she took in the bruises all over the woman’s body.
‘A kind husband?’ Solveigh laughed, seeing the shock in Bergit’s eyes. ‘Yes, I’m sure he’ll be a very kind husband.’
Berger and Ludo hadn’t been to Orvala, so everything was new to them. Reinar’s memories were rusty, but certain things looked familiar. Though in the years since Tarl Brava’s father had captured Orvala and his son had taken command, the city had quadrupled in size, more and more Northerners seeking to make a home with the lord they believed would become the first high king in two thousand years.
Their king.
Or so they had thought before Gudrum swept into the city and shattered their dreams. They’d retreated to their homes, some seeking to remain, hoping for Tarl Brava’s return, not wanting to believe that he was truly dead. Others had fled the city altogether, sneaking out, taking to the snowbound forests, desperate to get their families away from the new lord before he could exert his full control over Orvala.
After the feast were the whispers.
After the feast, the real Gudrum would emerge.
He strutted around the city with a smile on his ruined face, as though he was a kindly uncle, a man who wanted to be friends, though no one believed him and no one trusted him.
With a face like that? An army of wild thugs and forest dwellers behind him?
They had heard of Gudrum, self-made Lord of The Murk.
No one trusted him.
Yet Reinar had no choice as he walked down the wide main street with tension in his shoulders and a calm expression on his face, eager to see his brother. ‘How did you end up with two dreamers, then?’ he wondered casually, a chill wind gusting past him. ‘I’ve not heard of that before.’ He almost shook his head, realising that, for a time, he too had been a lord with two dreamers.
If only Eddeth had realised it.
‘Luck of the gods!’ Gudrum grinned, pleased with the look of the city. He’d had every Orvalan he could find clearing up the main street, washing it clean. The occasional downpour had helped, and now most of the scars of battle were gone from sight. Even Sverri’s little body had been dragged down from the pike above the hall doors, thrown onto the midden heap. Gudrum wasn’t interested in wasting anyone’s time on building a pyre or digging a hole.
The dogs would find him tasty, no doubt.
‘I would say so. From what I heard, Tarl Brava had ambitions in the South. Ake Bluefinn sort of ambitions,’ Reinar said, his men walking just behind him. Looking up, he blinked, seeing Magnus running towards him with a little girl, struggling to keep up. She had wild blonde hair and a round face with full pink cheeks, almost falling over as she was pulled along by a charging puppy.
And Alys.
It was important to remain removed from it all, Reinar knew, and seeing Alys’ face as she rushed past, he didn’t break his stride. They stared at each other briefly before Alys’ full attention was back on her children.
Magnus led his sister towards a group of drummers, busy organising themselves into a row. Girls with buckets were offering the men cups of mead, distracting them, and they were taking some time to get ready. Magnus ducked into the middle of the drummers, Lotta joining him, both of them nudging and whispering to each other as Reinar and his men passed.
‘Do you have children?’ Gudrum wondered sweetly. ‘Sons?’ He saw Alys heading for her children and their puppy, and he smiled. ‘I have none myself, not anymore, though I’m sure that will change quickly after my wedding, for lords need sons, don’t they?’
Reinar was barely listening, fighting the urge to turn back to Alys as he left her behind. There was no sign of her husband that he could see.
He wished he’d brought Eddeth along, though Mirella sounded dangerous, and it was better that Eddeth stayed out of it, seeing what she could do to win over Gudrum’s other dreamer.
And most importantly, watching over him.
He had entered the mouth of the beast now, and only Eddeth was going to help him get out.
Raf wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want anything to drink. And she most certainly didn’t want to talk to any of Sigurd’s very curious friends.
She moved to a log on the opposite side of the fire, away from Eddeth, Stina, and Aldo.
Ollo approached, looking for food. ‘Well, if she’s not going to eat that...’ he muttered, staring at
the bowl of berries Eddeth had foraged and shared with Raf.
Eddeth snatched it away from him. ‘Shouldn’t you be back there?’ she snapped, pointing to where Jonas stood talking to some of their men.
Ollo looked ready to protest, but seeing a determined Eddeth holding her ground, he shrugged. ‘Best you keep an eye on that girl!’ he called to Aldo. ‘Looks a little feral to me!’ And swinging around with a grunt, he headed back to Jonas.
Raf was pleased to see him go. She didn’t trust him, though her opinion of the strange woman with the big teeth improved. ‘I saw you,’ she said, blue eyes blinking with interest now, narrowing on Eddeth. ‘You came looking for Sigurd.’
Eddeth stumbled towards her, sitting down on the log, close to the flames. ‘Known him since he was a boy, I have. Oh yes, I know both brothers well. Good men, the pair of them! And you? You know Sigurd?’ she asked coyly, eyebrows twitching.
Stina peered at Eddeth, who was as subtle as a lightning strike.
Raf didn’t say. ‘You’re a dreamer?’
‘So the gods say! Though I have my doubts. I’m new to it, you see. A complete novice. Though we can’t all be like that Mirella, can we? And who would want to be? Cold as a whale in the Huuka Sea, that one! No heart at all. No feeling. No nothing!’
Raf was surprised that Eddeth knew so much about Mirella.
So was Stina, who slid closer, wanting to know more.
‘She’s a black hole, don’t you think?’ Eddeth’s eyes were round, hearing Raf’s thoughts tumbling in confusion. ‘A great, dark hole! No one knows what she’s thinking or what she’s about to do. Oh no they don’t!’
Raf didn’t want to talk about Mirella. ‘Tell me about Sigurd. Does he have a woman?’
Stina’s eyebrows rose in surprise, though Eddeth didn’t break her stride.
