by A. E. Rayne
‘I wish I had answers for you,’ Edela sighed. ‘But even after all these years, I still have none. No one in Tuura saw it coming. There was no warning from anyone. But you must always remember that your father died trying to protect Jael. Without him, I’m not sure she would have lived.’
Aleksander considered that; it was a consolation, of course. His parent’s deaths had brought him into Jael’s family, and that was something that had changed his life, for the better, ultimately. But still, he had always lived with the nagging question of why they had to die.
‘Come and sit by the fire,’ Aleksander urged, shaking away the last remnants of the dream, roused to life by the welcome heat. ‘Warm your bones up a while.’
‘Not likely!’ Edela snorted, her head under her furs now. ‘I plan to leave my bones here till morning, so if you’re planning on having any more nightmares, you shall have to save yourself!’
Evaine lay her head on Eadmund’s shoulder. She was completely still, watching his chest rise and fall, listening to his breathing as he thought on what to do. She didn’t want him to think on what to do, with her, or their baby.
It hadn’t unfolded as she’d planned. She had taken too long to fall pregnant, and he’d drifted away from her; she could see that now. She kept remembering the way he had been with Jael at the Pit, the way he had placed his body so close to hers, his smile so easy and free with her. All of it said that he wanted her, perhaps even loved her. He’d made all these changes to himself, but they were for Jael; she saw that now. He wanted to be different... for her.
Evaine felt morose and nauseated, but there was still a flicker of hope inside her heart. She placed her hands on her belly and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She knew that there were other ways to keep Eadmund, to bring his attention back to her, to make him forget his wife entirely. She needed to find a way to visit her aunt. She would know how to help her.
25
‘Aaaarrrhhh!’ Jael skidded backwards on a newly formed patch of snow, just managing to keep to her feet. She touched her cheek, which Thorgils had just caught with his sword, blinking rapidly, her eyes watering.
‘Are you alright, Jael?’ Fyn was at her side immediately, attempting to examine her injury, but Jael jabbed him with her sword.
‘We’re in the middle of a fight, Fyn!’ she barked. ‘You can’t just walk in between us to check my wounds!’ Her cheek stung, and her ears buzzed loudly.
‘Jael’s right, you little turnip! Get out, so I can finish her off!’ Thorgils growled, his face clear of any sympathy. ‘I want to sup on the sweet taste of my revenge before we’re snowed in!’
It had snowed steadily all morning. It wasn’t getting heavier, but the wind was building, blowing snow straight into their faces now. They were both struggling to see.
‘Alright, alright, I’m going inside. I’ll heat up the stew,’ Fyn sulked, as he strode off into his hut in the hill.
Jael and Thorgils exchanged nervous glances through the mess of snowflakes. Fyn had been threatening them with his stew all morning, and they were both determined to be gone before they had to face it.
‘Forget the revenge, I think we should leave now!’ Thorgils laughed loudly as he walked over to Jael and eyed her cheek. ‘It’s not bleeding, but I think you’ll be finding your way home with one eye.’
Jael grimaced. ‘I think you’re right there. We should go before the snow gets worse, or we’ll be stuck eating furry claws again!’
The wind screamed around them, so loudly that Thorgils barely heard her as he headed towards the hut. Jael glanced over at Tig and Leada, who were sharing a shelter made for one. Neither looked terribly impressed by the conditions. The sound of the wind was making them jittery; it was going to be a difficult ride home.
‘Your eye is closing up,’ Fyn noted as Thorgils and Jael shook themselves by his fire. The stew didn’t smell bad... yet, but both Jael and Thorgils looked away from it with fear on their faces.
‘It is, so we’ll head back to the fort,’ Thorgils said firmly as he plonked his boots near the modest little fire. ‘But first, I just need to feel my feet again!’
Jael placed her boots next to Thorgils’. Her face ached, but she didn’t think on it for long; her mind was occupied with thoughts of Eadmund. He would be at the house soon, and that agitated her. Why had she thought to invite him? Why had she reached out to him at all? She told herself that it was mere curiosity, to see what Evaine might have revealed, but she knew that things other than that were stirring her body and rattling her nerves.
‘Hello?’ Thorgils stared at Jael, slightly concerned. ‘Has that bump knocked your thinking parts about in there?’
Jael shook Eadmund out of her head and drew her eyes and feet away from the fire. ‘No, no, I just have things on my mind.’ She jiggled her hot toes around inside her steaming boots.
‘Eadmund things, is it?’ Thorgils wondered cheekily. ‘I saw you two speaking to each other last night. Things are moving along at a rapid pace now. Before long, you might even decide to get married!’
Jael frowned. ‘You are the one who wanted me to speak to him.’
‘True, and I’m pleased that you did. But still, he didn’t look so happy. Something is under his skin, I think. And I don’t think it’s you.’
Jael opened her mouth to share her suspicions, then closed it.
The look on her face was one of guilt, though, and Thorgils cocked his head to one side. ‘What is it? What’s wrong with Eadmund? I can see that you know more than I do.’ He leaned towards her.
Fyn sat down next to Jael, his face echoing a similar curiosity.
Jael stared at both men, listening to the thick sucking of the stew, the spitting of the fire, and the wind screeching past the door, loudest of all. They were her friends, she was certain of that. And she would need their help if everything was to fall to pieces, which it seemed, was about to happen. ‘It’s Evaine,’ she began.
Fyn swallowed hard, squirming on his stool.
‘I think she may have told Eadmund she is pregnant,’ Jael said quietly, feeling two pairs of eyes bulge from either side of her.
‘Wwwhat?’ Thorgils stammered. ‘What makes you think that?!’
‘Eydis saw it coming, in her dreams. She believes she is pregnant now. I have a feeling she told Eadmund yesterday. It would explain his odd behaviour last night.’
There was silence as each man digested Jael’s revelation.
‘It would be something she would do,’ Fyn said at last. ‘If she were to have his child, it would tie her to Eadmund forever.’
‘Well, she didn’t do it alone,’ Jael noted, wryly. ‘I think Eadmund may be partly responsible.’
Thorgils pulled on his beard, his eyebrows knitting together. ‘This is a bad thing. If Eirik finds out, he will be in a wild fury, for sure.’
Jael looked into his troubled eyes. ‘Eydis has seen Ivaar coming.’
Thorgils’ face fell. Fyn drew in a sharp breath.
‘When?’ Thorgils could barely speak; his mind was whirring.
‘Before the Thaw is over, she said. Soon.’
‘We need to leave. Now!’ Thorgils glared sternly at her as he stood up. ‘We have to talk to Eadmund, find a way to stop Eirik finding out. It might be too late already, but we have to try.’
‘Eadmund is coming to the house when I get back, to meet Leada. I can talk to him then.’
‘What do you mean, meet Leada?’ Thorgils frowned as he pulled his hood over his bushy hair. ‘He’s decided he wants a horse now, has he?’ He ducked out of the door, muttering crossly to himself.
Fyn stood up. ‘But what about the stew? Wouldn’t you like something hot to eat before you go?’
Jael shook her head and pulled her own hood up. ‘Thorgils is right. We need to find out what’s happening, to see what we can do. If Ivaar is as dangerous as everyone says, we have to find a way to stop Eydis’ dream coming true.’
The weather had disintegrated further, and the ho
rses were in no mood to leave their shelter. Thorgils was in no mood to care what they thought, however. ‘We may or may not be back tomorrow,’ he called to Fyn, throwing himself up into the saddle. It was covered by an old sheepskin that helped make winter riding bearable, but the wind had blown so much snow into the shelter that it was now wet through and half frozen; he barely noticed, though, as he tugged on the reins. ‘It depends on what we find when we get back, if we can even find our way back in this shit!’ He kicked his heels sharply into Leada’s flanks and took off, not waiting for Jael.
‘Well thanks, Thorgils!’ she called out after him, her voice lost in the noise of the blizzard.
Tig wouldn’t stand still long enough for her to mount him – he was too spooked by the screeching wind – so Fyn grabbed his bridle, gently stroking his face, whispering soothing words into his ear as Jael clambered quickly up onto him. ‘Don’t be too hard on Thorgils,’ he called up to her. ‘He has more reasons than most not to want Ivaar back.’
Jael wanted to ask what those reasons might be when she heard Thorgils bellowing at her impatiently from up on the ridge. ‘Tomorrow! You can tell me tomorrow!’ Jael yelled at Fyn as she bent low over Tig’s neck, racing to catch up with Thorgils.
‘I want you to prepare the children’s things,’ Ivaar whispered hoarsely, bending his thin face towards his wife. ‘We are going back to Oss.’
Isaura didn’t know where to look. When he was on top of her, she tried to keep her face over his shoulder; that way he didn’t notice the look of empty disinterest she found hard to disguise. She endured his touch, the invasion of his cock, because she had no choice; it wasn’t even the worst part of their marriage. It happened less, now that they had a living son, but still, he came to their bed regularly, using her to scratch whatever itch he might have, at any time of the day or night. At least tonight she got to lie on her back.
Isaura turned her soft, sad face towards him in surprise. ‘Oss? Why?’ Oss. It was a long-ago memory that she had shut behind an iron-strong door. She didn’t want to open it again. Not ever.
‘I spoke with Ayla, today. She sees it coming, soon. We will be going back there. At last.’ Ivaar continued to thrust into her with an increasingly steady rhythm. His face expressed no pleasure in what he was doing or saying.
Isaura tried not to let anything that might have stirred in her heart just then, show on her face; if she still had a heart left after all these years. Of course she did, she chided herself; she had four children, they were her heart. And her son that had died as he took his first few breaths of life; they filled her heart with hope. There was room for nothing else. No one else lived there anymore, she had made sure of that.
‘What? You have nothing to say? You’re not happy to be going home again?’ Ivaar narrowed his cold, blue eyes and peered down his nose at her. ‘I’m sure there’s a least one person you’ll be happy to see, isn’t there? If he’s still alive, of course.’
Isaura stared blankly at her husband, keeping as calm as she could under the pressure of his steely glare and prickly words. She despised him but had never allowed herself to be completely destroyed by him. She had always been determined to survive, for her children. She had done whatever it took, to be whatever he needed, in order to keep going, for them. ‘I don’t know how I feel about going back to Oss. It was all such a long time ago now. I’m not sure anyone will want us back, will they?’
Ivaar looked annoyed by her question. His rhythm broke, and he stopped, staring fiercely into her pale, brown eyes. ‘Seven years,’ he hissed at her. ‘That’s how long we’ve been exiled here. Do you think we should care who wants us back?’
Isaura shook her head, trying not to blink. ‘I suppose not.’
Ivaar closed his eyes, arched his back, and pressed himself into her again, hard. ‘No, my father made a big mistake sending me here. And he will be making an equally big mistake bringing me back. He just won’t realise it until it’s too late.’
Ivaar bent low over her, his head towards the pillow, and Isaura allowed her face to sink back into misery. Returning to Oss was everything she had once wished for, but Ivaar was right, seven years was a long time. Too long, she feared, convinced that everything would have changed; certain that nothing would be as she had left it.
‘What is that smell?’ Jael gagged, screwing up her face as she guided Leada and Tig towards the stables. She had convinced Thorgils to let her speak with Eadmund alone. He had not lost any of his furious anger during their ride back to the fort, and she didn’t think his mood would help things at all. Thankfully, Thorgils was not blind to his own madness and had seen the wisdom in that, although he had urged her to find out the truth of it quickly.
Biddy looked up irritably, her brown and grey curls blowing about her face. She was squatting in the snow, under the shelter that linked the stables to the house, trying to control both puppies who she had trapped in a wooden tub. The sight of Jael was too much for them to bear, though, and they wriggled out of her grasp, splashing out of the tub, happy to leave the cold water behind.
‘The smell, you are about to find out, is them!’ Biddy grumbled as she stood up and tried to catch her escaped prisoners. They weren’t keen to go back into the tub, however, and avoided her angry arms.
‘Down! No, no, get down!’ Jael snapped as the puppies jumped up her legs, spooking the horses, who skittered about wildly.
‘I caught them in the stables, rolling in all the horse shit before Askel had a chance to change the hay,’ Biddy sniffed, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. ‘For some reason, they love the stinking stuff, but nothing has ever smelled worse, and I’m not letting them back into the house until they’re clean, no matter how cold the water is!’
Jael ushered the horses inside the stables and shut the door. She scooped Ido up in one arm, and Biddy captured Vella. ‘I’ll help you. Then I’ll sort out the horses. Eadmund will be here soon.’
‘What?’ Biddy almost dropped Vella. ‘What do you mean here? Why is he coming here? What for?’ She was suddenly on edge, anxious about the state of the house; the fire which had probably burned down to nothing, the lack of food, the mess she had been in the middle of clearing up. She ran it all over in her mind, and it set her nerves jangling.
‘He’s coming to visit Leada. I think he might start riding her soon.’
‘Oh,’ Biddy sighed, relieved. ‘Well, perhaps he won’t go inside the house then, just the stables?’
‘What?’ Jael dumped Ido into the cold water and started scrubbing his shivering body with a lump of soap. The smell was unbearable, and she had to turn her head away. ‘You think he should stay out in the stables? In this weather?’ She cringed as Ido shook all over her. ‘I think he will certainly go into the house. He must be curious about it. I’m not sure he’s even seen inside it before.’
Biddy looked anxious as she wrestled Vella into the tub. ‘Well, let us hurry up then as everything’s upside down in there. I was cleaning before these two monsters put a stop to it. It’s a complete mess!’ She snorted, trying to clear the shit smell out of her nostrils.
‘Ha!’ Jael laughed as she lifted Ido out of the tub and was promptly showered with icy water as he shook all over her again. ‘Perhaps you haven’t seen Eadmund before? He’s a mess! He’ll feel very comfortable if everything’s all over the floor, I’m sure.’ Jael smiled to cover her own anxiety; she felt oddly nervous about him coming too.
She wrapped the shivering Ido in a blanket and took him inside to the fire, happy to be out of the blizzard at last. Rubbing him briskly, she set him free.
‘See what I mean,’ Biddy gestured around the living area. ‘It looks as if a herd of goats lives here!’ She handed Vella to Jael. ‘Here, you dry her, and I’ll get started.’ She rushed to hang her cloak on the back of the door and grabbed her apron, tying it around herself.
Jael glanced at Biddy’s wet clothes as she rubbed Vella’s wriggling body. ‘Hadn’t you better put something dry on first? You�
��re a little wet.’
Biddy looked down at her sodden dress but didn’t have time to worry now. She ignored Jael completely as she sat down to take off her wet boots, her eyes racing around the room, deciding where to begin.
Jael let Vella go, laughing as she chased Ido around Biddy’s legs, much to her annoyance. She headed outside to tend to the horses, wondering exactly how she was going to ply Eadmund for information about Evaine.
He wasn’t coming.
Jael and Biddy sat around the fire in silence, the puppies fast asleep, warm, fluffy, and snoring gently on a pile of rugs by their feet. Jael sipped on her tea and sighed.
‘Should I make us something to eat?’ Biddy wondered quietly.
‘I’m not hungry.’
It was well past midafternoon now. The day had grown increasingly grim, the storm taking a determined hold on Oss. It was almost completely dark outside.
There was a sharp knock at the door. Ido and Vella woke with a start, barking with a slightly confused excitement. Both women stumbled to their feet. Jael straightened her favourite black tunic as she walked to the door and looked around at Biddy, who was standing awkwardly behind her, smoothing down her apron. Jael swallowed slowly and opened the door.
It was Eirik.
III
Into the Storm
26
Thorgils couldn’t settle. He had tried sitting at the table in his mother’s house, listening to her mutter and moan, but he’d wriggled about and been so uptight and irritating that she had kicked him out. Into the blizzard. And now, here he was in the hall, unable to sit still, his eyes anxiously darting around, wondering what Jael and Eadmund were talking about.
