by A. E. Rayne
Bayla was savouring the moment.
Haaron was not.
‘I have spoken to Dragmall,’ Haegen announced somberly as he limped up to his father’s throne. ‘He will speak at Varna’s burial tomorrow. Sitha is helping to prepare her body. She will be laid next to her mother and grandmother, as she wished.’
Haaron looked up, barely listening. He nodded briefly, wondering what he was going to do now. Everything had fallen apart so suddenly. It was as though the gods had removed their favour.
All of it.
All at once.
And now they had taken Varna from him, just when he needed her advice more than ever.
How were they going to dig themselves out of the pit they were sinking into without her guidance?
Bayla placed one hand on his shoulder, and Haaron turned to her in surprise. ‘It was well past time for you to have a new dreamer,’ she said firmly. ‘Varna held on for such a long time. For you. But the shock of what happened out on the square... it was obviously too much for her. The shame that she had not dreamed of what would happen...’ Bayla smiled widely at Haegen, who frowned at his mother’s gleeful expression. She was the only person in Hest who saw anything to smile about.
Haaron sighed as he watched Osbert Furyck enter the hall. King Osbert now, he reminded himself.
Another problem to deal with, amongst so many.
He stretched out his back, groaned irritably and stood.
‘My lord.’ Osbert limped forward, bowing briskly.
Haaron nodded disinterestedly, looking around for a slave. He was thirsty for wine and eager to be alone, wishing he could talk to Varna. ‘You are happy with your preparations, my lord?’
‘I am,’ Osbert said wearily. ‘We will leave at first light. I must return my father’s body to Brekka quickly.’ He swallowed, feeling an unwelcome surge of emotion that he had no intention of acknowledging; not in front of Haaron and his family at least. ‘I appreciate the loan of your cart.’
‘Of course,’ Haaron said with a dismissive wave of his hand. ‘We are still allies. We still have Helsabor to conquer together.’
Haegen raised an eyebrow, thinking that after the loss of their ships and the deceit of the Islanders, there were more important things than Helsabor to turn their attention to now. But the eager look on Osbert’s face reflected his father’s.
He sighed.
‘Indeed,’ Osbert agreed. ‘Once I have put the Islanders to the sword, and taken my revenge on my cousins, I will come back to claim it with you.’
‘If you can put the Islanders to the sword,’ Haegen suggested. ‘Jael is a queen now, and with Eadmund Skalleson and her brother by her side, I think you might find it harder than you imagine. Especially having just seen what they can do.’
Haaron frowned at his eldest son, then smiled at the sight of wine being hastily delivered to him. He took his silver goblet, inhaling the fruity scent, which reminded him of Varna and their talks in his chamber. Instantly miserable again, he drank deeply. ‘She is a queen, yes, but a murderous one now, and the gods will not look favourably upon her, will they? Beheading a king? Her own family? A Furyck?’ He shook his head. ‘Furia will not be pleased with Jael Furyck at all.’
It was dark now, and most of the crew were inside the wooden house, grateful to be able to shelter from the biting wind. But as much as Jael wanted to dream and find Edela again, she couldn’t sleep at all. Her mind was full of her grandmother’s lifeless body, and she felt far too tense to relax, so she limped around the deck instead, embracing the bitter cold as it numbed her face and froze her limbs.
Aleksander handed her a cloak. ‘You might need another one if you’re going to spend the night out here.’
Jael turned and took the thick, woollen cloak, wrapping it around her shaking shoulders. ‘Thank you.’ Her lips barely moved. She didn’t want to speak at all. Not even to him.
‘Edela is strong,’ Aleksander said softly. ‘As strong as you.’ He felt awkward, wanting to put his arms around Jael, to comfort her in some way, to be comforted by her in return.
But he knew her.
He didn’t move.
Jael glanced at him, swallowing hard. The moon shone above him, highlighting his sharp cheekbones, his hollow eyes. ‘It was bad.’
Aleksander reached out then and pulled her frozen body towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. His wounded shoulder was throbbing so much he could barely see straight, but all he could think about was Edela.
Evaine had done this, he knew. He just hoped that they could make it back to Oss before it was too late.
‘Brother,’ Jaeger sneered, looking from Berard to Meena and back again. He stood in the doorway of his chamber, not inviting them in.
He was standing easily now, Berard noted. And he looked furious. Berard didn’t blame him. Jaeger had just had his new wife stolen away while suffering through another humiliating defeat at the hands of Jael Furyck and her Islanders. ‘Could we, perhaps, come in?’ Berard wondered nervously, glancing at Meena who was jerking about beside him, trying to squirm her hand out of his.
Jaeger moved aside and ushered them in, noticing as he did so that Berard had hold of Meena’s hand. ‘Is there something you have come to say, Brother? Some news, perhaps?’ Jaeger followed them into his chamber but did not offer them a seat or a drink.
He was still too annoyed with Berard to be friendly.
Berard had let it slip that he’d spoken to Jael Furyck as she escaped the castle. But he’d been so drunk that he’d simply let her go.
No one was that interested in talking to him at the moment.
‘News?’ Berard looked confused, then followed Jaeger’s gaze to his hand as it held Meena’s. He dropped it quickly and moved away from Meena, who immediately started tapping her head. ‘No, I’ve just stopped Meena from running away. From leaving Hest.’
Jaeger frowned at Meena, who was doing her very best to avoid his eyes. Whether from fear or displeasure, he couldn’t tell. ‘Leaving for where? Where were you going, Meena?’
Meena wanted to run out of the room. She couldn’t breathe. The day had been long and upsetting. Her grandmother was dead, and now Morana loomed over her: a vicious, black-eyed threat.
And Jaeger. It was all his fault.
‘You k-k-k-killed my grandmother!’ she said boldly, lifting her eyes at last.
Berard gasped, horrified, turning to his brother.
‘Me?’ Jaeger was wide-eyed. ‘Yes, I did. And she deserved it too, the stinking old bitch. And now we’re all free of her and her scheming and plotting.’ He stared at Meena, surprised by her anger. ‘I thought you would’ve thanked me? You, who spent your life being terrorised by her!’
Berard was mortified. ‘Jaeger!’ he hissed. ‘You killed a dreamer? Father’s dreamer? But... but...’
‘But what? And so what? Father will never know, not unless you tell him. Varna did nothing but turn him against me since I was a boy. Why wouldn’t I kill her for all that she did to me? And you, Meena. How can you forget so quickly?’ He grabbed Meena’s hand, pulling it down from her head, staring into her frantic eyes. ‘How can you forget so quickly?’
His eyes had more than anger in them now, and Meena blushed, remembering what he had done to her that night. That night that now felt so long ago. She looked away, hiding her face from them both.
Berard frowned, finding no satisfaction in anything his brother was saying. ‘And what of this woman, Morana? She says that she’s your dreamer?’
Meena shivered and shrunk away.
Jaeger peered at his brother, not noticing. ‘Morana... mmm, yes she is, I suppose. Varna’s daughter. A dreamer, just like her mother. She can read the Book of Darkness, and she’s going to help me get everything I’ve ever wanted.’
Berard was unsettled by the disturbed look in his brother’s eyes. He shuffled his feet, trying to think of what to say.
‘You go, Brother,’ Jaeger smiled, ignoring Berard entirely. ‘Meena an
d I must have a little talk.’
Meena gulped, tapping her worn boots on the dark flagstones.
Berard was hesitant. ‘But –’
‘I’m sure Father will be looking for you,’ Jaeger said firmly. ‘And you know how angry he gets when he can’t find you, Berard.’
Berard thought of his purple-faced father and his ear-breaking curses. He looked at Meena, his face pink with guilt, then ducked his head and turned to the door.
‘And send Egil up if you see him,’ Jaeger added, not taking his eyes off Meena. ‘I’ve run out of wine.’
Berard nodded briefly as he turned the door handle and slipped away.
Jaeger’s smile dropped as the door closed. He grabbed Meena’s arms, trying to wake her up. ‘We need to talk, you and I. About what will happen now, with Varna gone and your aunt here.’
Meena shivered, not looking up.
‘You’re truly mad at me for killing Varna?’ Jaeger laughed incredulously as he led Meena towards the bed and pulled her down to sit beside him. ‘Varna?’
Meena’s body tingled from his touch, but still, he was a murderer. She did not feel safe. ‘You shouldn’t have hurt her. She was o-o-o-old.’
‘Old?’ Jaeger snorted. ‘You think the old shouldn’t be punished? Even when they do terrible things? To you, Meena? Think of all that she did to you!’ He stroked his hand down her shuddering arm. ‘Think of all that she didn’t do. How she didn’t care for you, didn’t show you any warmth or affection. None! Not in all the years you were with her.’ He leaned forward and turned Meena’s face towards his. ‘Tell me that you aren’t glad she’s dead? Grateful that I ended her?’
Meena blinked as he bent forward and kissed her cheek. She fought the urge to move, caught between the danger she knew he posed and the desire she could feel weakening her limbs. ‘I...’ She closed her eyes and saw Varna. She heard Varna screeching at her, beating her, starving her, bullying her, hating her. ‘I am glad she’s dead,’ she whispered, at last, opening her eyes.
Jaeger smiled and kissed her roughly, feeling Meena relent as she came towards him, willingly now, kissing him back. ‘Good. Because I need you, Meena,’ he breathed, his stubble scratching her lips. ‘I don’t trust Morana, but I do trust you, and you are going to keep a very close eye on her for me.’
‘She is coming.’
Evaine glanced at her mother, wringing her hands as they walked along the beach. ‘Will she know it was me?’
‘Know?’ Morana laughed. ‘She will know. Of course! They will all know, but there will be nothing they can do, not with Eadmund here to protect you.’
Evaine looked relieved. She was desperate to see Eadmund, to feel safe in his arms again.
‘But you must make sure that he stays yours. They cannot be together. Ever.’ Morana stopped and grabbed Evaine’s wrists, pulling apart her nervous, twisting hands. ‘Do you understand me, girl? A candle will not do, not for what we need. Not after what you did to Edela Saeveld. Killing a dreamer?’ Morana frowned in annoyance at the mess Evaine had made. ‘You must go to my book.’ She shook her head, dismissing Evaine’s protests. ‘Not that book! Before Morac left Rikka, I gave him another book to keep for you. As soon as you wake from this dream, you must go to him and get that book. You will find the spell you need on the very last page.’
Evaine smiled, suddenly hopeful, closing her eyes, imagining Eadmund. And when she opened them, Morana had gone.
2
Jael splashed down into the water, not waiting for Sea Bear to make land. She waded through the frothing waves towards the beach, Axl and Aleksander surging through the icy water behind her.
The afternoon sky was grim and foreboding. Drizzle misted over them as they ran, not caring for the slickness of the stones or anyone else on board. They ran towards the hill that led to the stone fort, where Jael could see Thorgils, his bright, red hair bouncing in the wind as he waited by the gates.
Jael swallowed as she limped, trying to ignore the nagging pain in her leg. Almost wanting to stop and turn around. Afraid to hear the truth.
Afraid they were too late.
‘Thorgils!’ she called, panting as she crested the hill.
Thorgils walked quickly towards her, his eyes hooded, his shoulders up around his ears in tightly bound knots.
‘Thorgils!’ Jael reached him, grabbing his forearms, pleading with her eyes. ‘Is she alive?’
Thorgils sighed heavily as Axl and Aleksander joined them, breathless after the climb. ‘Yes. She’s at the house.’ He noticed Fyn crossing the stones with Jael’s mother, and a girl he didn’t recognise. ‘You go. I’ll bring your mother.’
But Jael wasn’t listening as she ran past him, desperate to get to the house.
Isaura changed her mind and turned away, crumpling the scroll, shoving it back into her purse. She shook her head, cross with herself but undecided as to why. Because she had written the note in the first place? Dared to think of giving it? Or for not having the courage to do so at all?
Her body was tense. She was desperate to do something, but so used to being afraid.
‘Isaura?’
Isaura swallowed and turned around. ‘Bram,’ she smiled nervously. ‘It’s been a long time since we saw you on Kalfa. I thought you must have given up on trading?’
Bram’s small, blue eyes were suddenly sad, but he blinked, and they quickly twinkled again. ‘Well, you can’t keep a man like me shackled to the land for long! Not when there’s breath in this old body and men who are eager for adventure, and, of course, gold!’ The old trader sighed wearily as he pushed his boots against the stones, trying to still the roll of his body. ‘We’ve been at sea for the past few months. Down in Kalmera, Silura, up past Helsabor and Iskavall, even Tuura, although we didn’t have much joy in that miserable shit-heap. We’re ready to head back to Moll, but first we thought we’d round the islands,’ Bram yawned. ‘Hopefully, I can find some takers for the last of my furs.’
‘I’m sure you will. From what I hear, the Islanders have a lot of gold to spend these days.’
Bram narrowed his eyes, lowering his voice. ‘I hear the same, but perhaps not the Kalfans?’
Isaura looked uncomfortable, glancing back to the fort, sensing the guards’ eyes following her. They stood on the beach, watching as Bram’s crew unloaded their furs and hides onto a cart. ‘No, it appears that my husband left Skorro before he could claim his share. Perhaps his guilt finally got the better of him?’ She swallowed, not sure that she should be talking so boldly.
‘Mmmm, well I hear many things on my travels, but none so unpleasant as that. To kill a king? Your own father?’ Bram’s voice was hoarse, his sharp eyes darting about, but his men appeared too busy to pay much attention to them. ‘Eirik was a fine man. An even better king. The islands will take time to recover from such a loss.’
‘Yes, but Eadmund will make a good king.’
‘And his wife?’ Bram asked eagerly. ‘You’ve met her?’
Isaura blinked. ‘Jael? Yes, I have. She is... strong. Fiercesome. Eirik chose her to be his heir with good reason. She earned it. I saw that with my own eyes.’
‘Well, anyone who could get rid of Tarak Soren is worthy of a crown, and more! I shall look forward to meeting her, although perhaps I need to polish up my sword skills first?’ He winked at Isaura and turned to leave.
Isaura ducked her head and reached quickly into her purse, pulling out the crumpled scroll. She hid it in her palm and gripped Bram’s hand as if in friendship, staring desperately into his kind eyes. ‘For Thorgils. And only him. If Ivaar were to find out...’ she whispered.
Bram saw the terror in Isaura’s eyes before they raced away from his. He had known her as a girl and had always had a soft spot for her. But Ivaar Skalleson? It was a foolish man who’d make trouble with a lord intent on becoming a king.
He smiled to himself as he subtly slipped the scroll into his pouch.
He was quite happy to be considered a foolish man.
&nb
sp; ‘Grandmother!’
Jael rushed to the bed, dropping to the floor, gripping Edela’s limp hand.
It was warm.
Her body heaved in relief.
Aleksander was quickly beside her, Axl behind him. Biddy hovered nearby with Entorp. Ido and Vella raced inside, jumping up on Jael, wailing, excited to have her home.
‘How is she?’ Jael asked breathlessly, pushing the puppies away.
Biddy’s eyes were swollen. She had barely slept since it happened, trying desperately to keep Edela alive until Jael returned. Her shoulders loosened as she realised that she had.
With Entorp’s help.
‘She’s hanging on,’ Biddy whispered, her voice breaking. ‘But fading fast.’
Aleksander turned to Biddy, his eyes full of tears. ‘Hanging on?’
Entorp stepped forward into the light, sensing Biddy’s distress, sharing in her exhaustion. ‘She was stabbed in the stomach. Thorgils found her lying in an alley, and he brought her home.’
Jael’s head snapped around.
Thorgils.
‘She lost a lot of blood but we sewed her up, and Entorp made a salve that we can only hope will do something.’ Biddy turned to Entorp, who looked uncomfortable, nodding slowly. ‘It appears to be healing the wound. She is still here. Still fighting.’
Jael squeezed Edela’s hand, then moved out of the way to let Axl through.
‘Grandmother,’ Axl sobbed as he bent his head to hers, kissing her forehead, smoothing away her hair. ‘Who would do this? To an old woman?’ He shook his head in disbelief, rubbing his eyes. ‘Why? Who?’
Biddy glanced at Aleksander and Jael.
They all knew who.
‘Evaine!’ Morac slammed the door and raced past Runa, up the stairs to the mezzanine.
His daughter sat calmly on her luxurious bed, playing with her baby son, who gurgled happily, his chubby legs curling in the air. She turned to her father, barely acknowledging him.
