The Burning Sea (The Furyck Saga: Book Two)

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘I know,’ Aleksander breathed. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

  Jael looked away, hanging her head. ‘I never meant for this to happen.’

  ‘This?’ Aleksander frowned. ‘You mean, loving Eadmund?’

  Jael’s eyes flicked towards his face as he pulled Leada up beside her.

  Aleksander reached out and grabbed her hand, smiling at how cold it felt beneath her woollen glove. ‘It’s alright, I don’t blame you. It’s alright.’ He felt ready to cry because he didn’t know if he meant it, but when he looked into those eyes, Aleksander knew that he loved her as much as he did the day she left. He just wanted her to be happy.

  However that happened.

  Jael ducked her head, emotions rushing quickly towards her throat, her eyes, rising in her chest. ‘You should be... mad at me. I promised you...’

  Aleksander shook his head. ‘There are things at work here that neither of us understands, that we have no control over,’ he said, listening to the roar of the falls behind them. ‘You and Eadmund. That appears something made by the gods. And how are you to refuse them?’

  ‘I’m not sure I believe that,’ Jael insisted, ‘or this whole prophecy, sword, Evaine mess. If I could close my eyes and be back in Andala with you, and my father, before any of this happened, I would.’

  Aleksander looked at her, squeezing her hand. ‘No, you wouldn’t.’

  She frowned.

  ‘Would it be easier? Yes. But you’re happy here, I can see that. What Eadmund is doing, I have no idea,’ Aleksander sighed. ‘And perhaps he doesn’t either. But don’t forget who you are. That girl, Evaine? She has come to kill you. You can’t forget that. This prophecy is important. I don’t know how or why, but we will find out. You cannot falter yet. Not yet,’ he urged. ‘He’s your husband. And you’re a warrior. Are you really just going to walk away from this fight?’

  Jael could feel the familiar heat of his hand on hers. She didn’t want him to let go. The memories, as they came, were fierce and Jael found herself lost for a moment. But then she saw Eadmund’s face. Eadmund loved her. She was certain of it.

  She was not about to let him go.

  Eadmund sat by the fire, holding his son as Evaine fussed over them both. He ignored her for the most part, distracted by Sigmund and the odd faces and gentle sounds he was making. It was a strange feeling to hold something so small and vulnerable; something, someone, who was his. ‘Do you think he’s hungry?’ Eadmund wondered nervously, worried that he was going to drop the baby.

  Runa peered at Sigmund. ‘Perhaps,’ she said quietly, her eyes full of despair. ‘Here, let me take him to Tanja for some milk.’

  Evaine didn’t argue or even look at Runa as she took her tiny bundle away to the young wet nurse Morac had found. She was relieved that he was feeding properly now, and not on her, although she was in agony waiting for her milk to dry up; her breasts throbbed painfully beneath her tight green dress. ‘Will you stay for supper, Eadmund?’

  Eadmund shook his head quickly. ‘No, there is much I need to organise before tomorrow. We leave at daybreak, so I need to ensure that my chest is packed.’

  Morac watched from his chair, enjoying the change in his daughter now that she was back on Oss, in a proper house, with Eadmund again. She was simply glowing. ‘I should do the same,’ he murmured, standing with a groan. ‘It’s been a while since I looked at my armour.’

  ‘You’re going?’ Eadmund asked, surprised.

  ‘I am. Yes,’ Morac said with a tight smile. ‘Your father asked me, and I have never missed a fight for Oss yet. No matter how things stand between us, I will be by my king’s side, as I have always been.’

  Eadmund stood, looking for his cloak. ‘Well, that is good to hear. We are going to need every bit of experience we have to get through to Skorro.’

  ‘Mmmm, and your wife, it seems,’ Morac said coolly. ‘I hear that she will command the fleet.’

  Evaine glowered at her father and hurried to help Eadmund on with his cloak. ‘You will come and see us before you leave, won’t you?’

  ‘Well...’ Eadmund hesitated, then shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so, Evaine. There is much I have to do before the morning. I think it best that we say our goodbyes now.’

  ‘I shall leave you to it,’ Morac muttered and turned away.

  ‘Oh, no, no,’ Eadmund insisted quickly. ‘No need, Morac. I shall see you when I return, Evaine. And we can talk to my father about what happens next with you and Sigmund.’

  Evaine frowned, reaching for his hands, clasping them, her wide blue eyes blinking, urging him to see her, to remember her; to remember how it once was between them.

  ‘Take care of yourself, Evaine,’ Eadmund smiled. ‘And our son.’ He opened the door and slipped through it before she could say another word.

  Evaine stared mournfully after him.

  ‘Do not worry, my dear,’ Morac whispered as he placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘It is only the beginning. Everything is falling into place. Be patient.’

  ‘I’m not sure about this, Eydis,’ Eirik grumbled. ‘It is not the place for you to be, with no one to look after you.’

  ‘I am old enough not to need anyone to look after me,’ Eydis insisted as she packed her chest. ‘Besides, I will be taking Boelle. She looks after my things here. She will look after me in Saala too. I won’t need any more than that.’

  Eirik looked around the sweet little bedchamber that Rada had decorated for their daughter. His only daughter. His heart broke at the thought of leaving her before he could make sure she was safe. Married. Cared for. ‘You will be 14-years-old soon,’ he mused. ‘Time enough to start thinking of a husband.’

  ‘What?’ Eydis’ mouth gaped open. ‘Father? Why do you say that? It is far too early to think of marriage!’ She shook her head furiously. ‘No! I don’t want that.’

  Eirik knelt beside her on the furs. It hurt his knees, and he grimaced. ‘We both know that the gods want me. And soon. You have seen it yourself.’

  Eydis’ milky eyes rolled away from him.

  ‘Of course, neither one of us wants it to be true,’ he insisted. ‘But I fear we can do nothing about it. And I worry about what will happen to you after I’m gone. I want to know that you will be cared for.’

  Eydis reached out for his arm, her eyes moist. ‘Eadmund will care for me. And Jael. Everyone here,’ she promised him. ‘I’ll be safe now that you have sent Ivaar away.’

  It was not enough for Eirik, though. ‘I want to find you a husband,’ he said firmly, the idea forming quickly. ‘You will not need to marry him for years, but you could become betrothed. Promised. To a good man. Someone I trust. Then I will be able to rest easy.’

  Eydis vigorously shook her head, but as much as she wanted to argue against the idea, she also wanted to please her father, to put his mind at ease. Sighing loudly, she sat back on her heels. ‘I will think on it,’ she said eventually. ‘For you.’

  But Eirik wasn’t listening. He was scouring his memory for suitable candidates, wondering just who he could find to keep his most precious girl safe.

  Jael wasn’t looking where she was going as she wandered towards the gates on her way down to the beach. She’d been running over in her mind exactly how Haaron was going to line up against them. Whether he would attack first or sit back and wait for them to come, trapping their ships under a hail of arrows. Arrows! She must go and check on the fletchers, who were notoriously fussy and far too slow for her liking. Head down and buried under a mountain of half-remembered ideas, she ran straight into Eadmund.

  He held onto her arms, forcing her to look up.

  ‘What do you want?’ Jael frowned, instantly angry.

  ‘To talk to you,’ Eadmund said quickly. ‘Before tomorrow. We won’t have time then.’

  ‘About what?’ Jael wondered coldly, her eyes meeting his with a crash. ‘Your son again?’

  Eadmund shook his head. ‘No, he is warm and well fed now. He’s as safe as he can be. S
o, no, we don’t need to talk about him. But we do need to talk about us.’

  ‘Us?’ Jael scoffed. ‘So, now you would like to talk about us? Now is the right time?’

  Eadmund glanced around, uncomfortable. A gathering crowd of wide-eyed Osslanders stood about in the afternoon drizzle, ankle deep in mud, whispering to one another. ‘Come in here,’ he muttered, pulling his wife inside one of the guard towers by the gates.

  Jael went along, reluctantly. Thankfully there was no one inside the fusty smelling little room. The guards appeared to be up on the ramparts.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Eadmund said as he closed the door behind them. ‘I should have spoken to you before I left. I should have spoken to you at all. But when Morac told me about Sigmund...’ Eadmund shook his head. ‘Nothing felt the same. I didn’t know what to think... what you would think.’ He squinted into the darkness of the tower room, desperately trying to see past the anger in her eyes.

  Jael sighed. ‘I understand that. I wish I could have had a minute to think myself but with Edela falling ill, leaving for Saala, and Aleksander. It was a confusing time for both of us.’

  Eadmund’s shoulders dropped, his eyes turning to the dirt floor. He did not want the reminder.

  ‘Evaine is trying to –’ Jael began.

  ‘Trying to what?’ Eadmund snapped, lifting his head, suddenly on the defensive.

  Jael saw it in his eyes, then, that instinct to defend the mother of his child, and she retreated. ‘Nothing,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Evaine just wants to be here,’ Eadmund tried to explain. ‘With her mother and father, in her nice house, with a wet nurse, being cared for. Feeling safe. That’s all. She knows it’s different, that I’m married to you. That I love you.’

  ‘Does she?’

  ‘This isn’t about Evaine, I promise. I left to see my son. I didn’t plan to bring him here at all. I know what you think, what Eirik thinks. But he was so small and helpless, and Evaine was struggling in that filthy shack.’

  ‘And Morana?’

  Eadmund looked puzzled. ‘Morana? She was not there. Evaine said she would often be gone for days, disappearing into the mountains, leaving her to fend for herself. She had no interest in Evaine or the baby at all.’

  Hearing footsteps, Jael glanced at the stairs. ‘I need to go. I have to see the fletchers, finish packing my chest, find Fyn and Thorgils. And Eirik.’ She headed for the door.

  Eadmund hurried after her and grabbed her arm.

  Jael turned back to him. ‘Trust is like a sea of ice, Eadmund. It’s unbreakable. Solid,’ she whispered, leaning up to his ear, one eye on the stairs. ‘But you leaving like that... now there is a crack in the ice. And I for one do not know what will come of it.’

  Jael turned and left quickly, not wanting to talk anymore, feeling the crack widen, burrowing deeper into the water below.

  12

  Edela reached out and placed a small, round stone in Jael’s hand.

  Jael looked down in surprise. ‘What’s this for?’

  Edela shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. ‘Just a small stone. Nothing more,’ she said lightly. ‘But do keep it with you, on you, at all times. Promise me.’

  Jael rolled it over in her palm. It was grey, smooth, a very ordinary looking river stone from Brekka. Familiar. But it had a symbol inscribed upon it that wasn’t familiar at all. Jael stared at Edela, but she had already turned towards Aleksander.

  ‘I will not see you again,’ Edela said sadly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Aleksander asked, gripping her hands. ‘Is there something I should know?’ He suddenly felt strange.

  Edela shook her head quickly. She was still not fully recovered, and her thoughts were jumbled, hurrying out of her mouth in the wrong order. She laughed. ‘No, no, I just meant that you will go back to Andala, won’t you?’ She reached up and touched his face. He was not as thin as he had been, she was pleased to see, but his cheekbones still jutted out sharply, and his eyes had a sad, hollow look about them. Edela suddenly felt worried. Who would care for Aleksander if she stayed on Oss?

  ‘Well, I hope that’s true, and you’re not keeping something from me?’ Aleksander smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘If I’m about to meet Vidar, then I wouldn’t mind some warning!’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ Edela said, feeling the clanging bells of uncertainty ringing in her ears. ‘And no, you’re not. Not that I can see.’

  Aleksander leaned in and pulled her bony frame close. She felt cold. He felt sad. He would miss her company; miss helping her, cooking for her, caring for her. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, then pulled back. ‘For everything.’

  Edela felt a rush of emotion as she looked up at him. ‘Oh, you’ll have me weeping like the old woman I am in a moment, so you’d both better hurry up and leave. Biddy and I are looking forward to some peace and quiet!’ Edela laughed, and shooed Aleksander away, before turning back to Jael. ‘And you, my Jael...’ She reached out for Jael’s hands. ‘You will be fine, I know it.’

  ‘Oh, so you think you’ll see me again, then?’ Jael grinned, desperately searching her grandmother’s eyes for any hint of uncertainty.

  ‘I do,’ Edela insisted. ‘I wouldn’t have risked the Nebbar Straights again if I thought there was no point!’

  Jael hugged her grandmother tightly. ‘I’m glad. But stay well. Don’t go rushing about in the cold, and try to do what Biddy says!’

  Biddy rolled her eyes at the likelihood of that happening.

  ‘Keep her safe,’ Jael whispered as she wrapped her arms around Biddy. ‘I know that Evaine is after me, but she is dangerous. Keep Edela close.’ She stood back and smiled quickly, her face tense. ‘I’ve asked Askel to keep an eye on you both.’

  ‘I can look after myself, Jael,’ Edela grumbled as she followed them to the door. ‘You wait and see. That little girl has met her match in me!’

  Aleksander hugged Biddy goodbye as Jael bent down to Ido and Vella. They had been unsettled by Eadmund’s absence and had the sense that something was not quite right. They rushed to lick Jael’s face as she hugged them both. ‘Look after Biddy,’ she laughed, trying to avoid their wet tongues. ‘I will see you soon, I promise!’ Jael stood up and took a deep breath, turning to Aleksander. ‘Well, come on then, let’s go and see Lothar!’

  Aleksander’s body slumped at the thought of that miserable fate as he followed her through the door.

  Biddy bent down to snatch the puppies before they could race off after them. ‘Goodbye!’ she called, fighting the urge to cry as the door closed. They were like her children, both of them, going off to fight. She had cared for them all their lives. Her lips wobbled, then contorted as Ido and Vella started licking her face. ‘Get away!’ she cried, trying not to smile. ‘Get away, you filthy creatures!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Ivaar wondered again, his fingers teasing Ayla’s firm nipples. ‘You see me returning?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ayla shuddered, wishing he would stop. He had exposed her, admiring her body, touching it, exploring it as he chose while she lay there freezing, desperate for the furs, bored with his desires, longing for an end to his questions. She missed her husband. His touch had been soft. Loving. Welcome. ‘I have dreamed of that. Of you with your son when he is older, as old as Selene, at least.’

  Ivaar smiled, distracted by that image for a moment. ‘I am pleased to hear it,’ he sighed, leaning down to kiss her full, pink lips. ‘But you must behave yourself while I’m gone. And keep your mind on Oss. Always. I want to get back there soon.’ He lifted himself on top of her, his face almost touching hers. ‘Once you help me find a way out of here and onto that throne, Ayla, you will have your freedom, I promise.’

  He eased himself inside her, not noticing her grimace of discomfort as she turned her head to the side.

  It was not much, Jaeger thought to himself as he surveyed the fort from the ramparts. But it would be enough. Enough to keep the Islanders at bay. They did not have a lar
ge fleet, as the bulk of Haaron’s men would be trekking through Vidar’s Pass with Haegen and Karsten, but they had arrows. Plenty of arrows. He had checked the stores himself.

  Skorro was a small pebble of an island whose prime position in the Adrano Sea made it one of Hest’s most valuable possessions. It sat between the high cliffs of Osterhaaven and the even higher cliffs of Hest. Any ships that made it through the Widow’s Peak would face a barrage of arrows from their fleet and the Tower. There was no way through. No way that anyone had found, yet.

  Once he claimed victory here, Jaeger was confident that his position would change. Or would it? Would his father merely blink and continue to ignore him, berate him, humiliate him, as he had always done? He thought of Meena, wondering if she had found out anything more about the book for him. Probably not, knowing the strange girl.

  Berard stood anxiously beside his brother, watching as their ships bumped gently against Skorro’s small pier. He did not like it here. Too many men. Drunk and angry and full of pre-battle bravado. They looked down at him with obvious scorn. He didn’t blame them. He was small and his body hunched over, his shoulders having decided many years ago that they would not sit straight and proud. But, he tried to convince himself, there were more ways to win a war than with a sword. ‘When will they come, do you think?’

  Jaeger turned away from his view of the Widow’s Peak. Those ship-wrecking stones had provided Skorro with much protection over the years, but the Islanders knew them; they could navigate the dangerous waters in between. ‘Four days. That’s what Varna told Father. If she is right with her dreaming anymore, the stinking old bitch.’

  Berard frowned. That was a long time to wait. ‘And in the meantime?’

  ‘We prepare!’ Jaeger growled. ‘These men have grown lazy, used to nothing but easy victories against whoever tries to claim this island. Father doesn’t test them. The men he leaves in charge here have no one looking over their shoulder. Until now.’ He stared down at his brother. ‘Varna sees trouble for us here, but we can turn that around. We have four days to prepare. The Tower will signal us as soon as they see the Islanders coming. We will need to be ready to spring our trap.’