by A. E. Rayne
‘We need to be a floating shield wall!’ Jael called to the rows of Islanders arrayed before her on the beach. ‘Sailing as one! Which is why the flags are so important.’ She held up a red piece of cloth. ‘Choose one person on your ship to be the flag carrier. That man will be responsible for passing the message along to each ship. It’s the only way we’ll be able to work in unison!’
Eadmund could see the doubts weaving themselves through the minds of the lords and their men as they frowned at each other, rubbing their beards and narrowing their eyes. ‘We will likely have more ships than Haaron, but that will not save us!’ He added his voice to Jael’s, grimacing at the pain in his head as the sun seared itself into his swollen eyes. ‘Do you remember our last attack on Skorro? How many men we lost? How many ships? And did it make any difference that we outnumbered them then, as we likely will now? No!’ he cried passionately. ‘That sort of thinking will not save us. But we have a chance for success if we follow this plan of working together as a shield wall to defeat them!’ He glanced at Jael. ‘And a shield wall is only strong if it remains intact, which is why these flags are so important.’
Ivaar was standing near Jael. The lords had rallied behind him, supporting him in the wake of Eadmund’s accusations. ‘It makes sense!’ he agreed loudly. ‘Surely none of us wish to end up at the bottom of the Adrano because we were too stupid or arrogant to think we knew better!’ He nodded at Jael, who blinked in surprise to receive his support. ‘We will no longer be lords at the bottom of the sea!’
There were a few cheers at that, a few nods, and the odd reluctant grunt of agreement.
‘And you want Eirik to be given a true send-off, don’t you?’ Thorgils bellowed beside Eadmund. ‘For him to taste the victory of Haaron’s defeat that we will deliver to him?’
Fyn gulped as he stood next to Jael. His nerves were getting worse, and his belly was griping again. He hoped it wasn’t the sickness, just a bad case pre-battle terror. He held firmly onto the sack of flags and looked to Jael.
‘Fyn and Thorgils will give you your flags and talk you through what each colour means!’ she said loudly. ‘Make sure that you all know because we will need to keep going, no matter what happens. Someone on your ship must follow our instructions!’ She caught a glimpse of Eydis coming down onto the sand with Gisila and Amma; all three looking utterly morose. ‘Prepare yourselves and your ships! We will be leaving soon!’
Jael inclined her head towards Fyn, urging him after Thorgils who was heading for the men. He swallowed and loped after him, still awkward in his new mail. His body was suffocating under its cumbersome weight, and he walked oddly because of it. Jael smiled, watching him go and turned towards Eydis, whose bottom lip was quivering.
‘I need something of yours,’ Eydis said urgently. ‘To keep, so that I can dream. So that I can see how to help you. To see how you are.’
‘Well,’ Jael frowned, thinking. ‘You can have this,’ and she reached inside her cloak and slipped a plain gold ring down her arm. She placed it into Eydis’ small palm, rolling her fingers over it. ‘That is the first arm ring my father gave me,’ she smiled wistfully.
Eadmund wasn’t wearing any arm rings. ‘Here,’ he mumbled, twisting off his wedding band and handing it to Eydis. ‘Take this.’
Jael was surprised, but Eydis seemed pleased to have something from each of them, so she didn’t make a fuss as she bent down to her. ‘Gisila and Amma are going to take care of you, Eydis,’ she said softly. ‘And Eadmund and I will be back as soon as we can.’
Eydis did not look reassured. In fact, more tears quickly flooded her eyes. ‘And what if you don’t? What if Ivaar is the only one who comes back?’
Jael pulled Eydis into her arms, placing her mouth next to her ear, lowering her voice. ‘You remember what we talked about? About the prophecy?’ she breathed. ‘You know that I will return. Someone wrote that down. A dreamer saw it. I will come back to you, Eydis, and I will bring Eadmund with me.’ She kissed Eydis on the cheek and let her go. Standing up, she spoke to Gisila. ‘You need to keep her safe, Mother,’ she said sternly. ‘Especially after what you said, Eydis. Anyone evil enough to murder your father, won’t think twice about trying to hurt you.’
Amma shuddered, putting her arm quickly around Eydis’ shoulders. ‘We will both look after her,’ she said firmly. ‘I promise.’
Eadmund was barely able to keep to his feet. He knew what was facing them, but most of him was desperate to just drift off with his father; to lose himself to the pain that was slowly consuming him. ‘Jael’s right, Eydis,’ he said, taking a deep breath. ‘You need to stay safe until we return. Then we can all go home.’ His mind flickered quickly to his son and Evaine. He looked at Jael, confused. It was as though she was a stranger to him now. He shook his head as he pulled Eydis close. ‘Try not to worry, Little Thing. We will go home soon.’
Eydis sighed, grateful for his arms, which felt strong, and his voice, which was reassuring. But it was not enough. None of the people she loved were safe.
Not anymore.
‘She needs some help!’ Varna snapped at her daughter. ‘You take a turn.’
Morana looked horrified as she stared at Meena, knee deep in a hole and covered with dirt, her red face dripping with filthy sweat. She glared at her mother and did not move.
‘You expect me to jump in the hole and dig?’ Varna snorted indignantly. ‘At my age?’
They were standing amongst a towering copse at whose very centre stood the oldest tree in Hest. Skoll’s Tree, they called it. It was thousands of years old, its roots bursting out of the earth, crawling over the land like wooden worms. It was the tree that Varna had seen in her dream, the one beneath which Jaeger had buried the book.
Morana clenched her jaw and jumped into the hole, snatching the spade out of Meena’s blistered hands. ‘Fine,’ she grumbled, shaking off her cloak. She wanted that book more than any of them. It didn’t matter what she had to do to get it.
Meena sighed in relief, heaving herself out of the hole, her back aching as she fell into a heap on the cool grass.
Varna didn’t even look her way. Her glazed eyes remained fixed on the hole and what she had dreamed was hidden inside. That book, after centuries, was about to be unleashed upon the world again. And whoever possessed it, whoever was capable of interpreting its spells, that person would wield a power worthy of the gods.
And Varna was determined that that person would never be Jaeger Dragos.
‘She lights a candle,’ Tanja whispered, her eyes never leaving the door. ‘She takes it out of her chest. The same one, as it looks smaller each morning.’
‘You’ve seen it?’ Runa asked breathlessly, her eyes wide.
‘She leaves it to burn for a time,’ Tanja went on, nodding. ‘Saying words, the same ones, over and over again. Just mumbling though, my lady,’ she hurried to explain. ‘I couldn’t tell you what she was saying. But they’re the same ones.’
‘And then what?’
‘Well, she does that for some time, then she blows the candle out, puts it back in the chest and goes back to her bed.’
‘And you don’t know what else she has in there? Just the candle?’ Runa wondered desperately.
‘I only see the candle, my lady,’ Tanja insisted. ‘There may be other things, I don’t know. It is quite dark.’
Runa glanced up at the mezzanine, then back to the door. She didn’t know where Evaine had gone, but she needed to know more while she was still away. ‘Here, take Sigmund upstairs. Put him on the bed, change his cloths. I think he is wet through,’ Runa said carefully. ‘I will watch the door. I need you to check inside that chest.’
Tanja’s blue eyes popped in horror. ‘I, ahhh...’
‘Go now,’ Runa ordered, handing the baby to her. ‘Quickly! You have an excuse to be up there, don’t forget. But I don’t. I’ll stay here. Be as quick as you can!’
Tanja realised that she could not argue. She clutched Sigmund tightly to her chest an
d hurried up the stairs.
Morana screamed in ecstasy as she pulled the sack from its dirty grave. Clambering out of the hole, her wild hair clinging to her sweaty face, she rushed to her mother who had collapsed next to Meena, worn out by the waiting.
Varna leaned forward, her body more alert than it had been in years. ‘Is that it?’
Morana stumbled to the ground, her crooked teeth bared as she laid the filthy sack onto the grass, her hands shaking as they tore it open to reveal a leather-bound book. ‘Well, what else could it be?’ she growled gleefully. ‘What else could bring us both here, to this very spot on the same day?’
Meena blinked, her head cocked to one side as she considered the book. She frowned. That wasn’t the book she remembered. Then she thought of Jaeger and smiled, her toes tapping in delight.
Varna caught her dreamy look and glared at Morana. ‘Open it!’ she ordered.
Morana was happy to. She wiped her hands quickly on her black dress and turned the aged cover. The vellum pages inside the book were old and crisp. And its contents... Morana frowned, scowling. ‘Recipes?’ She turned page after page. ‘Pigs feet? Chicken and turnip pie? Arrrrrhhhh!’ she screamed, throwing the book into the bushes, rocking back on her heels in frustration. She caught Meena’s nervous, barely hidden smirk. ‘You knew this, girl?’ she bellowed. ‘Knew this book was not the one we were after and yet you dug for it? Let me dig for it? Wasted our time?’ She lunged for Meena, grabbing her by the throat. ‘Where is it? Where is the real book?!’
Varna didn’t rush to Meena’s aid.
Meena gurgled, her legs flailing under her aunt as she slapped her across the face, pinching her throat harder, smacking her head into the ground.
‘Where is the real book?’ she screamed. ‘Where is it?’
Varna let her own annoyance dissipate; how could she compete with Morana? ‘Take your hands off the girl,’ she said slowly. ‘We will not find the book if you kill the only person who might know where it is.’
Morana didn’t appear at all ready to hear reason, but as Meena’s eyes bulged urgently and her chest rose in panic, she reluctantly gave in to her mother’s argument, letting Meena scramble away. ‘How is it possible?’ Morana panted. ‘How could we both have dreamed of this book? I don’t understand.’ She shook her head. ‘Why? Why would we have seen him burying the book here.’
Varna was more measured, quicker to put the puzzle together. ‘Because that is what he wanted us to see, of course. He buried this book to distract us. He must have known the stupid girl would not be able to keep his secret.’
Meena was still gasping for air, her throat raw. She could barely hear anything her grandmother was saying because her ears were ringing so loudly. If Varna was horrifying, then Morana was doubly so. She wanted to run and hide from them both.
‘So, my girl,’ Varna cooed as she turned to her granddaughter. ‘We must find a way into the Bear’s head. We must see what he did with the real book before it takes hold of him.’
Meena frowned. Takes hold of him? She shivered.
What did that mean?
21
Berard vomited over the side of the ship.
It wasn’t that the sea was choppy, nor the weather foul, he just felt ill. An approaching battle always had that effect on him, whether on sea or land. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, wishing he had a cup of wine to wash away the bitter aftertaste.
‘Better now?’ Jaeger laughed at his green-tinged brother as he swayed back to the stern of Death Bringer, Haaron’s newest warship. They were under sail, in a light, but freshening wind, his men hunkered down beneath the gunwales.
Berard coughed and said nothing as he debated going back to the side of the ship. He looked out towards the Widow’s Peak, trying to take his mind off his surging nausea. ‘No sign of them.’
‘No,’ Jaeger said cheerfully. ‘But they will come. Their scouts would have seen our men on the march.’
‘And when we get near the Tower, we’ll just wait?’
Jaeger smiled, his eyes narrowing to slits in the glare of the morning sun. ‘Yes, we will wait, and they will come, and we will sink them all.’
They had seen the signal from high atop the mountains that towered above Saala, the place where Rexon had a lookout; where a fire would burn as soon as there was any sign of attack. But this time the flames were burning for their own attack, the attack that none of them really wanted. No one but Lothar.
Saala’s beach was full. The men were saying their goodbyes to the women they had brought with them, for they would stay behind now and wait for word to come.
Jael had said her goodbyes and was starting to shut everyone out of her head; Eydis, and her mother, Axl and Aleksander. She had to think about what they needed to do now. The Islanders. Their fleet. Her men. All of them.
She turned to Eadmund, who had barely spoken all morning. ‘Shall we go, then?’
He looked away to where the men were filling the ships. ‘We should,’ he said simply and turned to leave.
‘Wait, Eadmund!’ Jael called suddenly, grabbing his arm. ‘Wait!’
He turned around, almost impatiently, his eyes skirting hers.
Jael was not about to be deterred, though. She took his face in her hands, leaning towards him. ‘You’re still in there, I know it, Eadmund. And I know you love me, no matter what she has done to you.’
Eadmund shook her away, confused and annoyed at what she was implying.
Jael didn’t care. There was no guarantee that she would have the chance to say anything ever again; Eirik’s sudden death had taught her that harsh lesson. ‘You love me, and after we defeat Haaron, when we’re back on Oss, I will find a way to stop this and bring you back to me.’
Eadmund frowned but didn’t leave. He stared into her eyes, which looked tired and swollen, but green, so green and deep, and for a moment he remembered her. He reached out a warm hand and laid it on her cold face, his eyes lost in hers.
She rushed to kiss him before he could move. ‘I promise you, Eadmund, I will bring you back.’ And with that, she started walking towards her ship, Sea Bear, where Fyn stood waiting nervously next to Beorn.
Eadmund watched her go, feeling the sudden loss of her, resisting the intense urge he felt to go after her. He blinked, shaking himself away from those eyes and back into the moment. Opening up the pouch hanging from his belt, he touched the small blonde curl of his son, and the stone Morac had given him from Evaine. Settled again, he took a deep breath and walked away to his own ship, trying desperately to clear the stench of his father’s burning corpse out of his nostrils.
Thorgils sauntered up to Jael as she reached the water’s edge. ‘And what about me, then?’ he smiled cheerfully, but his eyes were anxious. ‘What if this is the last time we see each other?’
‘What was your name again?’ Jael asked with a serious face, happy for a distraction.
‘My name?’ Thorgils laughed, puffing out his chest, which was enmeshed in great, silver scales. He looked like a giant fish. ‘My name is Thorgils Svanter, and I am your servant, my queen!’ he bowed. ‘Your oathman,’ he added, looking up. ‘And I am about to deliver you a great prize, my lady. A fleet of Hestian war ships!’
‘Well then, you should certainly receive a reward for that,’ Jael smiled. ‘Perhaps a new arm ring?’
Thorgils’ eyebrows dismissed that with speed.
Jael laughed. ‘I suppose I could stretch to two.’
‘Ha!’ he snorted. ‘Perhaps I should go and declare myself for Ivaar?’ He glanced around quickly, relieved to see that Ivaar was already on board his ship. ‘He might have better prizes on offer.’
‘Ivaar?’ Jael sneered. ‘Hmmm, well he will need all the help he can get if he makes it through this battle. We won’t be able to keep Eadmund away from him for long.’
‘True,’ Thorgils grinned. ‘But still, you’ll never last as queen if you’re going to be that miserly.’ He reached out and wrapped his fish-like ar
ms around her. ‘Two arm rings? You’re lucky I’m such a loyal man!’
‘Indeed, I am,’ she said, letting him hug her. There had been far too much affection already this morning, but Thorgils’ big arms and thick chest enclosed her with such warmth that she felt like a child for a moment. Safe. Protected. ‘Well, I might think of a more suitable reward,’ she mumbled into his shoulder.
‘Glad to hear it,’ Thorgils smiled and let her go. ‘You protect your queen!’ he called to Fyn. ‘I will need her alive if I’m to collect my prize!’
‘And you keep an eye on Otto,’ Jael urged quietly. ‘If he steps out of line, knock him on the head.’ She said this with one eye on Otto, who was deep in conversation with Torborn and Hassi. Jael shook her head, turning towards Sea Bear, the ship she had spent the last few months getting to know intimately. Beorn had taken her and Fyn out sailing regularly, testing and tweaking. She was a wild beast, finely crafted, and, Beorn had admitted to her, his favourite.
Jael stepped into the water, raising one hand to Torstan who stood in the bow of Dragon’s Tooth, looking as though he wanted to rush back to the latrines. She smiled, and her eyes met Ivaar’s. He glared at her, unblinking, as he stood grasping the prow of one of his Kalfan ships, watching as the last of his men clambered aboard.
Jael frowned as Ivaar turned away. She had saved him from Eadmund’s revenge for now, but would that come back to haunt her in the end?
