by A. E. Rayne
‘Entorp,’ Biddy murmured as she brought him a cup of chamomile tea. ‘Here. It’s cold, but it might help.’
He turned and saw the concern in her eyes. Swallowing, he took the cup and sat down heavily on the bed. ‘Thank you. It might.’
Biddy walked over to let the puppies out, wondering when Jael would return. They’d barely seen her all day. ‘And you think that Briga will be able to get the mixture into their food? Without being noticed?’
‘She seems like the sort of woman who won’t have a problem if you ask me,’ Branwyn smiled, trying to lift everyone’s mood as she crawled around on her hands and knees, picking up all the things her granddaughter had dropped on the floor. ‘I doubt that anyone would want to question Briga if she got caught!’ Looking around her house, she felt a pang of sadness that she would be leaving. After living here with Kormac for eighteen years, she’d never really imagined being anywhere else.
Until she knew what The Following had done to Tuura.
Now she couldn’t wait to escape.
Jael and Fyn had spent most of the day ferrying weapons into the stables with Kormac, Aedan, and Aron, trying not to draw any attention to themselves. It had taken many trips, but finally, everything was in place.
Every sword, shield, and axe that Kormac had been able to make, find or borrow.
Hidden amongst the hay.
Jael smiled at Beorn, who did not smile back.
‘You really think this will work?’ he grumbled.
‘It has to work. We need to get out of here quickly. We have to get to Oss,’ Jael insisted as she held out an apple for Tig.
‘There’s a lot that could go wrong.’
Jael shrugged. ‘True. But if we stay here, we’re dead. And so is everyone on Oss. Which is much worse, I think.’
Beorn sighed, knowing that she was right.
‘The Following wants to kill everyone in Osterland,’ Jael reminded him. ‘Everyone. We have to do what we can to stop them here. It’s not enough, but we have to make a start. If we can free Tuura, we can free ourselves. We can’t help anyone else until we do.’
‘What do you think?’ Gant wondered as he pulled his horse to a stop just before the edge of the ridge. His eyes were focused on the tall, stone walls in the distance. Dusk was fast approaching, and he was relieved that they had made it to within a short ride of Tuura’s gates.
‘I think those walls are high, and unless they open the gates willingly, we’re going to struggle to find a way inside,’ Aleksander said with a frown, his throat tightening. ‘We need to send someone in. Tomorrow. Someone who isn’t me. Perhaps they’ll even know you, so, we need to send someone else.’
Gant nodded. ‘I’ll ask Oleg.’
‘Good idea. He can go first thing in the morning. They should open the gates early.’ Aleksander doubted that the Tuuran dreamers needed to see their men waiting outside the walls to know that they were there, though. He shook his head, wishing he could just ride straight down to the fort and find out if everyone was safe. Now. ‘We’ve no idea what’s happening in there,’ he sighed in frustration.
‘If anything is happening at all,’ Gant countered.
Aleksander’s stomach gurgled. ‘Let’s get back. We can give Oleg the good news.’
‘Well, as long as our new king agrees,’ Gant grinned as he turned his horse around, pleased to think that their new king wasn’t Osbert.
Briga was a round woman with a pinched face that looked as though it had been scrubbed with a brush. Red-faced and angry, she glowered up at Kormac. ‘That’s it?’
Kormac glanced behind himself. They were standing around the back of the soldier’s hall, and although the sky was darkening, it was still light enough to be seen. He could feel his heart throbbing loudly, wishing that Briga didn’t have such a booming voice. ‘Yes,’ he whispered, trying to encourage her to do the same. ‘Derwa said that you need to add two cups to each cauldron. It will look like you’re just adding water to the stew.’
Briga’s scowl deepened as she took the water bags from Kormac and sniffed. ‘Well, if you say. Just for the towers, then? I make a separate stew to be taken around to those men.’
‘Yes, best you add it to that cauldron only, just to be safe.’
Briga grunted and turned to leave.
‘Briga!’ Kormac hissed, scurrying after her. ‘You won’t forget about the temple, will you? The kitchen door?’
Briga turned around, eyeing him moodily. ‘Said I’d do it, didn’t I? I’ll be there.’ And she waddled away before he could say another word.
Kormac’s mouth hung open as he watched her disappear around the corner of the hall. The success of their plan relied almost solely on Briga now.
He could only hope that she’d be true to her word.
Haaron surveyed the hall with barely concealed disappointment.
He’d been looking forward to the feast all day, but as he walked past the tables, there appeared to be nothing on offer that he hadn’t eaten countless times before, and not even the company could put a smile on his weary face. His lords and their ladies pranced around the elaborately decorated hall, gossiping with merchants from Kalmera and Silura. Bayla flittered between them all looking as elegant as ever, but as she approached, Haaron could see the tension in her face as she scanned the guests.
Haegen was there with Irenna, talking to Nicolene.
But where were the others?
‘You need to go and find your sons!’ Bayla hissed as Haaron helped himself to a goblet of wine. She removed the goblet immediately, pointing him towards the stairs. ‘Now!’ she grumbled. ‘Before I am asked one more time where they all are!’
Haaron was ready to put Bayla in her place, but one look at the panic in her eyes stopped him. She was upset; not wanting to say her goodbyes tomorrow; not wanting to let go of her sons at all. He was beginning to wonder if sending them away was such a good idea after all. If only he’d been able to convince her to get rid of Jaeger and keep one of the other three, who were almost as hopeless, but not as much trouble.
Sighing, Haaron took one last look at his goblet and navigated his way through the guests, ignoring their smiles and greetings as he headed for the stairs.
They had barely spoken during supper, but as Biddy cleared the table, everyone started to rouse themselves, realising that in a few hours they would have to begin.
‘Make sure that you’re only taking what you need,’ Kormac reminded his sons. He glanced at Kayla, who, Branwyn liked to gossip, was a hoarder. ‘We will likely have to leave in a hurry.’
Alaric, who was still finishing his second bowl of soup, seemed comfortable with that notion. He had nothing to take, but he was eager to leave; determined to go along with them, no matter what happened.
‘How exactly will we leave?’ Biddy wondered. ‘If it unfolds as we hope?’
‘Well, it depends on where Axl and Aleksander are, of course, but ideally, we all leave on Sea Bear,’ Jael said as she searched through her chest, looking for her arm guards. She had not brought much more than her armour and a change of clothes with her – most of which she would soon be wearing. ‘We’ll sail to Andala, leave you there, and Fyn and I will head for Oss as quickly as we can.’
‘If we can get out of here,’ Gisila said quietly. She was as desperate to reach Andala as the rest of them but had much less faith in their ability to do so. ‘I imagine that The Following will do anything they can to stop us. They will try all sorts of evil things, surely?’
‘I imagine so, my dear,’ Edela murmured, patting her arm. ‘But we have our symbols. We have Jael. And we have Eydis too.’
Eydis’ head swung around in surprise. She had not said a word all evening. Her mind was full of fears for their escape, and worry about what was happening on Oss. She hadn’t been listening to their conversation much at all. ‘Me?’ she exclaimed.
‘Yes,’ Edela said. ‘You know that book, Eydis. Gerod thinks that we can’t do anything to stop him now, but he doesn
’t know about you. That you can see the pages of that book in your mind.’
Eydis felt around for her cup of water. Her mouth had gone dry. ‘Well, I will try,’ she mumbled, embarrassed by the attention that she could feel but not see. ‘If you need me to.’
‘Hopefully, we won’t,’ Jael assured her. ‘Hopefully, we’ll be on the ship before morning. But until then, I have a very important job for you, Eydis. I want you to take care of the puppies. I don’t want them disappearing just when we need to leave, as they have a habit of doing!’ Jael smiled, but her eyes did not sparkle. She just wanted the night to hurry along.
Pulling her whetstone from her pouch, she sat down with the sword Kormac had given her.
Trying not to think about Toothpick.
Impatient to begin.
Meena wriggled her toes, trying to avoid tapping herself, not wanting to incur Jaeger’s wrath. The voice in her head was loud. It rang in her ears, warning that she wasn’t safe.
But what could she do?
She was trapped.
Jaeger had dragged her back to his chamber and thrown her on the bed, slapped her, forced himself inside her, then abandoned her to sit in front of the book for the rest of the day; silently stewing, fingering through its crackling pages, ignoring her completely.
Her face still burned where he’d hit her. Her eye had closed up, and it hurt to even blink. She had remained on the bed, not wanting him to notice her at all. Jaeger had calmed down as he listened to her frantic explanations of what she had done with Morana; of how she’d had no choice but to stay with her aunt. But only slightly. He still seemed on edge as he crouched over the book.
The knock on the door made them both jump.
Egil was not there, so Jaeger got up to open it himself.
‘Your mother is waiting on you,’ Haaron said crossly as he looked his son over with distaste. Jaeger was naked from the waist up, red-faced and angry. ‘You appear to have forgotten that she is holding a farewell feast for your brothers tonight. It is important to her that you are there to say goodbye to them. They’ll be leaving in the morning.’ Haaron tried to look past his son, wondering who else was inside the chamber, but Jaeger held the door close to his head, with no intention of opening it any wider.
‘They are leaving in the morning,’ Haaron tried again, his enthusiasm waning with every breath. ‘Everyone is down there, waiting.’
‘Fine!’ Jaeger spat and shut the door in his father’s face.
Turning around to the bed, he searched for the tunic he had slept in, not caring to find something fresh. It lay crumpled in a heap under the furs he had tossed off the bed. ‘I’m going to the hall,’ he said mutely. ‘You are not. You will stay here. Morana will be coming for us before midnight. You will stay here.’ And shrugging the tunic over his head, he strode towards the door.
Meena watched him go, listening as the key turned with a click.
Imprisoned again.
Hanna had spent the day in a muddled panic, trying to think of another way to approach Berard; convinced that all he needed was a small nudge in the right direction.
Discovering that the queen was hosting a feast in the castle, she had invited herself along, hoping to find Berard. She had tried to avoid talking with the guests in the hall, hugging the walls, hoping not to attract anyone’s attention.
But she had been disappointed to find that Berard wasn’t even there.
Turning to leave, her face lightened as she saw him enter the hall. But he was not alone, and so she slunk back towards the slaves, waiting for his mother to stop fussing over him.
Bayla was incensed. ‘What were you doing?’ she muttered between tight lips, growling at Karsten in particular. ‘I have been here for hours. Hours! Where have you both been?’
Karsten smiled at his mother, holding up a hand. ‘Calm down! Calm down! Berard and I were saying our goodbyes. We wanted to get it out of the way tonight.’
Bayla inhaled sharply. ‘Well, your wife has been very upset,’ she grumbled. ‘Abandoned by her husband!’ And grabbing Karsten’s hand, she dragged him towards Nicolene, who looked barely bothered to see him at all.
Karsten turned and winked at his brother.
Berard felt sick. Worried for Meena. Unsure that there was any hope for what he and Karsten had planned. He looked around for a slave with a mead bucket or a goblet of wine. Anything to help him feel better.
‘Hello again,’ Hanna said shyly as she crept up behind him.
Berard jumped but quickly looked relieved as he turned around. ‘You’re still here,’ he sighed.
‘Yes, of course. I meant everything I said earlier.’
‘Good,’ Berard whispered. ‘Because I’m going to do it.’ He looked over his shoulder as Jaeger entered the hall, then leaned into Hanna. ‘I’m going to steal the book.’
‘My lord.’
One of Tuura’s most experienced dreamers was waiting at his door. Gerod, who had been eating his evening meal in peace, was annoyed, but instantly curious. ‘You have news?’
‘The Brekkan army is here, lord,’ she said quickly.
Gerod’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘At the gates?’
‘No, close by. Waiting. In the forest.’
‘Waiting for what?’ He frowned so intensely that his head ached.
‘I saw them making camp, preparing food. They did not appear to be going anywhere. But they will come tomorrow.’
‘And have you any word, any messages from Hest?’
The dreamer shook her head, knowing that it would displease him.
‘Leave me now, Ada,’ Gerod snapped, closing the door before she had even begun her farewell. His body was jerking with fury. He needed to think. Yorik and Morana had abandoned him. Not considered what was happening in Tuura important enough. Yet, he had Jael Furyck here.
Did they not care about her any longer?
His hands shook as he tried to steady them by his sides.
Glancing at his half-eaten plate of food, he turned instead to the back of the door and reached for his cloak.
‘And who do we have here?’ Jaeger wondered, his amber eyes sparking with interest at the sight of Hanna.
Berard spluttered. ‘This is...’ He shook his head, trying to think as he glanced at Karsten, but Karsten appeared to be arguing with his wife again.
Hanna was ready to splutter herself, immediately intimidated by the sheer size of Jaeger Dragos. It had to be him. ‘My name is Hanna,’ she said faintly, attempting to meet his intense eyes. ‘I met your brother today. In the markets. He invited me along tonight, which was very kind of him.’ She slipped her arm through Berard’s, smiling.
Jaeger was surprised. ‘Berard?’ He peered at his brother. ‘Well, you have been keeping yourself busy.’ He turned back to Hanna. ‘If only he wasn’t leaving for Solt in the morning.’
Hanna could feel Berard shaking against her. ‘I agree,’ she said quickly. ‘Although, I’m not staying in Hest for long.’
‘No?’ Jaeger was intrigued. ‘And where are you from?’
‘Helsabor,’ Hanna said calmly. ‘But I’ve always sought adventure. I’ve not stayed in one place since I was a child. I plan to travel to Silura as soon as I can find passage on a ship.’
‘And who is this?’ Karsten smiled as he squeezed himself into their small group, having noticed Berard’s panicked face and Jaeger’s close proximity to him.
‘This is Hanna,’ Berard said quickly. ‘The woman I met in the markets today. You remember, I told you about her?’
Karsten’s eyes widened. Berard had not told him how pretty she was. ‘Yes, you did,’ he murmured, his eyes lingering on Hanna’s small mouth, whose lips pursed, uncomfortable with his attention. ‘I’m Karsten. Perhaps Berard told you about me?’
Hanna shook her head. ‘No.’
Karsten looked put out, then laughed. ‘Well, he will, I’m sure.’ He wanted to turn to his right and punch Jaeger in the stomach; hard enough to knock him flying. ‘You look unwe
ll, Brother,’ he sneered instead. ‘Not getting enough sleep?’
Berard didn’t think that roiling Jaeger was the way to go, but he couldn’t get Karsten’s attention to convince him of that.
Jaeger turned to Karsten. There was so much he could say to wipe that smug smile off his brother’s ruined face, but he didn’t need the distraction. Not with the ritual approaching. He ignored him instead and nodded to Hanna. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he muttered and turned away, looking for the wine.
Berard let all the air out of his lungs in a great, hissing rush, watching as Jaeger disappeared into the guests. He blinked at Hanna and Karsten. ‘We need to talk!’
Axl was alert as he sat propped up against a tree; disturbed by being so close to Tuura; anxious about what was happening inside the fort.
Aware that he was the king.
He leaned forward with interest as Gant, Aleksander, and Oleg discussed strategies, waiting for the right moment to speak, but it never arrived.
‘The reason has to be plausible. We have to think of someone you could be there to visit,’ Gant said as he slapped his neck. Every flying bug in the forest seemed to be buzzing around him.
‘But why don’t we just march to the gates?’ Oleg wondered. ‘Axl is the king now. They would hardly turn him away.’
Axl was pleased to have been acknowledged, at last. ‘I agree,’ he said quickly. ‘They would be more likely to listen to a king with an army. But I think that Gant and Aleksander are right. We don’t want to expose the men to more danger than we need to. Not yet. Aleksander’s dreams might just have been dreams.’
Aleksander bit his tongue.
‘But likely they weren’t. After the ravens and wolves? Something is definitely wrong. And we’re here for a reason. But we won’t be able to help anyone if we reveal ourselves too early.’
Aleksander blinked in surprise.
