by A. E. Rayne
‘She’s here,’ Morac breathed heavily, surprised by Evaine’s calmness.
‘And Eadmund?’ There was a hint of desperation now; an edge to the picture of serenity that Evaine was so carefully portraying.
Morac shook his head. ‘Not Eadmund.’
Evaine looked puzzled as Morac sat down on the bed, ignoring his grandson.
‘He will be home in a day or so, from what I hear.’
Evaine took a deep breath, nodding slowly. ‘Well, I shall get myself ready then.’
‘For Eadmund?’
Evaine smiled. ‘For his wife.’
Gisila was beside herself as she threw her arms around her mother’s still body. ‘Mother!’ she wailed.
It was simply too much: the pain of what Lothar had done to her, the fear and terror of their escape from Hest, the exhausting journey, her worry for Edela. Gisila sobbed without restraint. She needed her mother so desperately, now more than ever. She couldn’t lose her.
Amma stood next to Axl, both of them crying. After what they had just been through, it was too much for all of them.
Not Edela.
Biddy looked at all their broken-hearted faces and realised that she had to do something. ‘Why don’t I pour us some small ale and we can sit around the fire? I’ll have Askel bring in some more logs, and we can get those flames going. You’re all shivering! And Entorp, perhaps you have something for Gisila’s face? Those are some terrible bruises.’ She bustled into the kitchen, frowning. ‘Aleksander, what has happened to your shoulder, and Jael... your leg?’
They all turned to Biddy, relieved for some guidance.
Some sense of direction.
‘Lothar did it,’ Jael said mutely. ‘Attacked Mother. So Axl cut off his head, and we had to leave Hest in a hurry.’
Biddy gasped, her eyes rounding in horror, wondering for a moment if Jael was teasing her as she liked to do. But no one was smiling. ‘Well, perhaps we are going to need something stronger than small ale then?’ She hurried outside to look for Askel, leaving Entorp to search through his leather satchel for a jar of salve.
Jael hobbled towards Thorgils, who was lingering awkwardly near the end of Edela’s bed with Fyn. ‘Where’s Evaine?’ Jael could feel her shoulders tightening, her jaw clenching. She squeezed her hands into white-knuckled balls. ‘I need to see her.’
Thorgils swallowed, glancing at Aleksander, but his face was just as dark as Jael’s as he came to join them. ‘Well, I, ahhh, I don’t think you should do that, Jael. Not yet. Not without Eadmund.’
‘Eadmund?’ Jael was furious. ‘Eadmund? Eadmund is the reason Evaine is here in the first place! The reason that Edela is lying there! Eadmund brought her back here!’ She was shaking from head to toe and not inclined to listen to anything but the throbbing need to see Evaine.
Thorgils reached out to calm Jael down, to get her to focus on him, to see sense, but she shrugged him off and headed for the door, disappearing through it before anyone could move to stop her.
Haaron studied the strange looking woman who perched on a stool opposite him. He was transfixed by her similarity to Varna. She was angular and awkward as she hunched over; as though her limbs were wooden, unused to movement; as though she was ready to launch herself at him.
Just like Varna.
He smiled wistfully, remembering all their talks in his chamber. Her death had shaken him in an unexpected way. His own mother had died when he was too young to remember her. He had grown up with Varna. And now, here was her daughter, who no one had known anything about.
Not even him.
‘Your arrival is timely, it seems,’ Haaron said sharply, his dark-blue eyes narrowed into accusatory slits. ‘How is it that you dreamed of your mother’s death, but then didn’t choose to save her?’
Morana looked annoyed as she peered at him from beneath her wiry mane. ‘Save her? When death was all she wanted? To be free? At peace? With the gods themselves? No, my lord, death is no punishment, and my mother would never have seen it like that. She was eager to die. A woman of her age?’ Morana laughed, and it was shrill like a raven’s warning. ‘There is little peace in living when you are nothing but a shrivelled up, broken down reminder of who you used to be.’
Haaron sipped his wine, feeling more broken down and shrivelled up than he had in his entire life. His kingdom had never been in such disarray. Never so vulnerable. So crippled. ‘Well, as you say, Varna was a woman who had given so much, right until the end. For Hest. For me.’
Morana swallowed, ignoring the silver goblet of wine that remained untouched in her hands. ‘She spoke with great pride of her life spent looking after you and Hest.’ It was an effort, and her lips twitched with displeasure.
‘She did?’ Haaron was surprised, not imagining Varna feeling anything at all but anger and disappointment.
Morana nodded, bored, wanting the pretence over with. ‘Yes, she spoke of her desire that I would carry on her work. That I would help you when she no longer could. When I dreamed that she was weak and would not last long, I came to ensure that her wishes were carried out.’
‘And you were in contact with Varna all these years? How?’
Morana’s face revealed nothing. ‘Dreamers communicate in ways that others cannot.’
‘I see,’ Haaron murmured, not really seeing at all. ‘Well, it is no secret that I am now without a dreamer at the very moment when I have an urgent need for one.’ He sighed, glancing at the door, wondering who Bayla had sent to eavesdrop on their conversation. ‘You are willing to stay then? In Hest? In Varna’s old chamber? To dream for me?’
Morana tried not to smile. ‘I will do anything I can to help you, lord, for as you say, it appears that your kingdom is in great peril. I have seen that, and more besides. Your enemies are rising against you. All around you. You must act quickly if you are to save Hest. And yourself.’
Haaron swallowed and leaned forward. ‘Tell me... what do you advise?’
Jael didn’t knock.
She simply threw open the door and strode into the house, Aleksander and Thorgils behind her.
Evaine sat in a chair by the fire, cradling her son in her arms, Morac standing behind them. Runa perched nervously on a bed in the far corner of the main room, wishing she was anywhere else.
Jael’s eyes flicked to the baby. ‘Runa!’ she called. ‘Come and take the child!’
Evaine gripped Sigmund tightly as Runa rose from the bed and crept anxiously towards her. ‘You will not take him! He is Eadmund’s son!’ Evaine cried defiantly.
‘Stand up and give the child to Runa,’ Jael said coldly. ‘You are coming with me.’
Morac looked horrified. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded crossly, moving to step in front of Evaine. ‘You cannot barge into my house and try to take my daughter! For what reason?’
Jael ignored Morac and walked towards Evaine. ‘Take the child, Runa.’
Evaine relented and handed Sigmund to Runa, who hurried him upstairs.
Aleksander could feel the throbbing pain in his shoulder, but it was not as demanding as the throbbing anger pulsing in his body at the thought of what Evaine had done to Edela.
He did not doubt that it was her.
‘You cannot hurt me!’ Evaine insisted as she stepped up to meet Jael. She was small and delicately framed. Jael towered over her, her shoulders broad and strong, her face emotionless and hard. ‘Eadmund will never forgive you!’
Jael’s face contorted. ‘Eadmund?’ She felt a twinge in her heart at the truth in those words, but it did little to stem the flow of her anger. ‘The Eadmund you put a spell on? The one who loves you so much that you use dark magic to claim him? Because he doesn’t love you! Because he didn’t choose you, even when you had his child! That Eadmund? My husband? Is that the Eadmund you mean?’
Evaine’s eyes sparked with rage. ‘He will never be yours!’ she screeched. ‘He is lost to you now, and if you try to hurt me, he will spend the rest of his life mourning me a
nd hating you!’
Jael frowned. ‘Edela broke your spell once and she will again when she recovers. And if not her, then I will, or Biddy, or Entorp. You will never have him,’ she growled. ‘And you will pay for what you did to my grandmother. I will make you pay!’ She snatched at Evaine’s wrist, yanking her forward.
‘You cannot do this! When Eadmund returns, he will stop you!’ Morac bellowed, rushing towards Jael.
Thorgils reached out one of his giant-sized arms, blocking Morac from coming any closer.
Jael squeezed Evaine’s wrist tightly as she tried to escape her hold. ‘Morac Gallas,’ she smiled coldly, her eyes snapping to his pinched face. ‘Once I have finished with your daughter, I shall have to think about what to do with you. After what you did to Fyn?’ She shook her head, turning to leave, pulling Evaine along behind her.
Evaine panicked, trying to wriggle away from Jael, her boots scuffing uselessly against the floorboards. ‘If you hurt me Eadmund will be lost to you, don’t you understand?’ she wailed desperately. ‘He is bound to me now! Forever!’
Jael didn’t turn around as she dragged Evaine towards the door.
‘His soul is bound to my soul!’
Jael stopped. She glanced at Aleksander, who blinked at her, his face mirroring the confusion on hers. ‘Your soul?’
Biddy busied herself in the kitchen, too worried to even think, but knowing that she must. She needed to make something for supper, and there were now many more mouths than she had planned for. She watched them all sitting around the fire, staring hopelessly at one another, glancing back to Edela, holding cups in their hands that none of them ever looked at.
Entorp’s forehead wrinkled as he approached, his blue eyes squinting anxiously. He inclined his head towards the back room. Biddy looked intrigued as she wiped her hands on her apron and followed him.
‘What is it?’ she whispered, sensing his desire for privacy as he closed the door behind her. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Evaine did this,’ he began. ‘We both know that.’
Biddy sighed impatiently.
‘But I just can’t stop thinking about why she did it? To take a knife and try to murder an old woman? It must have been because of Morana. Morana is in this, I’m sure,’ he shuddered. It was cold and dark in the storage room to keep their food stores as fresh as possible, and Entorp was already missing the warmth of the fire. ‘If Edela can dream walk, then someone as powerful as Morana certainly can, and she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. She must have come to Evaine. Told her what to do. Edela said that Eadmund had gone again, which means that Evaine did something to reclaim him. And getting rid of Edela would mean that she would remain unchallenged. There would be no one to stop her.’
Biddy frowned. ‘And?’
‘We don’t have Edela anymore.’
‘Don’t you say that!’
Entorp ducked his head. ‘No, I mean that we don’t have her to help us save Eadmund. To see for us. To show us how to help her either. We’re blind. We cannot see, so we need someone who can.’ He looked up as an idea sparked, quickly skipping to another.
‘What is it?’ Even in the darkness, Biddy could sense that he was working on a plan.
‘Eydis will be here soon, but I’m not sure we have the time to wait.’
Biddy nodded, agreeing.
‘There is Jael...’
‘Jael?’
‘Edela said she was a dreamer. That it was in her.’ Entorp looked down at Biddy, desperate for some hope.
‘Yes, but...’
‘Jael might be able to help her,’ Entorp insisted, his eyes suddenly bright. ‘I have an idea.’
‘What do you mean, your soul?’ Aleksander asked furiously. ‘What have you done?’ He grabbed Evaine’s other arm, just as wild as Jael now.
Evaine grimaced, trying to pull away from them both.
Jael released her hold on Evaine’s arm and stepped back. ‘And?’
‘If you kill me, Eadmund will be trapped forever. You cannot break the spell, not if I’m dead at least. You need me if you ever want to reclaim him!’
Aleksander dropped Evaine’s arm, and she pulled down her rumpled sleeves, pushing her shoulders back as she glared up at Jael. ‘You may be the queen for now, but you do not have Eadmund, I do! So, leave my house, and take your men with you!’
Jael bit her teeth together and narrowed her eyes, considering things. She believed Evaine. Or that Evaine, at least, believed what she was saying. Morana was her mother, so what she was suggesting was entirely possible. There was no reason not to believe her. And yet...
Jael turned to Thorgils. ‘Get Sevrin. I’ll need some shackles.’ She looked at Aleksander, and they lunged for Evaine, grabbing one arm each.
‘You cannot do this!’ Morac cried hopelessly as they dragged Evaine to the door. ‘You heard what she said! It’s true! You cannot hurt her without losing Eadmund forever!’
Jael ignored him. She ignored Evaine’s furious squawking, and Thorgils’ anxious grimacing as she pulled Evaine through the door and out into the rain.
Sigmund, lying in Runa’s arms, burst into tears.
Sevrin stood on the hall steps, waiting in the drizzle as Thorgils hurried towards him, some way ahead of Jael and Aleksander, who were pulling an uncooperative Evaine between them.
‘Bring the shackles!’ Thorgils called, almost reluctantly.
Sevrin stared at Thorgils’ red face, then looked back to Jael who was lugging Evaine to the Wailing Post: the old, worn, muck-covered post that stood in the middle of the square. ‘For Evaine?’ He was shocked. ‘Are you sure?’
Thorgils nodded firmly, his mind scattered as Sevrin disappeared back into the hall. He knew from his conversations with Biddy that it was likely Evaine who had attacked Edela. But he also knew that Eadmund was going to be furious, and that would have repercussions for them all. He turned back to Jael and Aleksander, neither of whom even raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement as he approached.
‘You think you can try to kill an old woman and get away with it?’ Aleksander spat. ‘That you should suffer no punishment because you are the mother of Eadmund’s child? That he will protect you?’
‘Who are you to know anything about Eadmund?’ Evaine screamed. ‘Get your fucking hands off me! Morana will kill you! She will kill you all!’
Jael said nothing. She was too busy fighting the urge to gut the screeching girl; trying to shut out the booming voice of her father who was crossly reminding her that she was a queen now. ‘You hold her,’ she muttered to Aleksander, before stalking towards the hall, needing to think.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Thorgils asked gingerly as Jael stopped before him.
‘This?’ she snapped. ‘This is not what I’d do at all, but it is something. After what she has done? To Eadmund? To Edela?’ Jael shook her head, on the verge of tears, but not wanting them to dilute her anger. She frowned instead, turning to Sevrin as he came through the door with shackles in his arms. ‘There is not much to her so you’ll need to make sure they’re tight. I don’t want her slipping away in the night.’
Thorgils swallowed, imagining the look on Eadmund’s face.
Jael glanced up at the clouds which were darkening dramatically overhead. ‘Looks like more rain.’ She took a deep breath and strode back towards Aleksander, who was working hard to keep Evaine still while Sevrin clamped the shackles around her ankle and the post.
‘So, now you are safe, Evaine Gallas. And you can’t run away. Eadmund will return soon and we shall see what happens next. But for now, you’re my prisoner. Murder is a very serious charge...’ Jael’s voice caught. ‘I’ll return tomorrow,’ she said stiffly, ignoring Evaine’s screams. ‘And perhaps you’ll be ready to confess by then?’ She turned to Aleksander, and they walked away, both of them desperate to get back to the house.
‘Noooo!’ Evaine cried, wide-eyed with madness, lunging after them, screaming in pain as the iron clamp bit into her ankle, her feet slipping in the t
hick mud that had already covered her boots.
Crying even more as the drizzle turned to hard rain.
3
Biddy smoothed a fragrant salve around Gisila’s swollen eyes. Made from arnica and chamomile, its calming scent helped them both start to relax.
Entorp sat with Edela, his hand on her chest, his fingers around her thin wrist. He dropped his head and turned back to the waiting crowd. ‘She is getting weaker. Her wound is not leaking anymore, but I fear that the damage might have been too great, or perhaps Edela is simply not strong enough to survive such an injury? The dream walking weakened her. And she had her illness as well. Her body and spirit have gone through so much lately.’
Jael put her hands over her face, rubbing her eyes. Angry, tired, helpless.
Worried.
She turned to Thorgils. ‘Has there been any sign of Ivaar?’
Thorgils looked surprised. ‘Ivaar? No. No sign at all.’
‘Good,’ Jael murmured, trying to think of everything she had to deal with. As much as she just wanted to stay with her grandmother, she was in charge of the island – at least until Eadmund’s return. ‘Best you take Fyn to Runa. She’ll be desperate to see him. And make sure that Morac understands how serious this is... what Evaine did.’ Jael shook her head, wanting to scream; fighting the urge to run out into the square and finish Evaine. But she thought of the baby, of Eadmund, and of Edela, who was certainly more merciful than she was.
None of them would want such a thing.
‘And talk to Sevrin. Make sure he keeps a watch on her all night. I can’t leave. Not yet. I don’t want to be gone when Edela...’ Jael blinked, stopping herself. ‘I need to stay here.’
Thorgils nodded. ‘Come on, Fyn. Let’s take your chest back to Odda’s, then we can go and see your parents.’
Fyn, who had not uttered a word since they had arrived, looked up from his stool in horror, but he smiled sympathetically at Jael and followed Thorgils out of the house.
