by A. E. Rayne
‘Well then, let’s get some sleep. And maybe we’ll think up a reason for Oleg’s visit by the time the sun rises,’ Gant sighed, ready to stretch out, even if it was on an unforgiving slab of earth. He slapped his neck again. ‘If there’s anything left of us by the time the sun rises!’
Aleksander smiled, watching as Gant and Oleg helped Axl to his feet.
Sleep was the last thing on his mind.
He couldn’t stop worrying about Jael.
‘We have to be as quiet as we can,’ Jael murmured, holding Eydis’ hand as she reached for the door handle.
Branwyn took a deep breath as she lined up next to Biddy.
‘And if anyone stops you, say you’re going to visit Aedan. That Edela had a dream that their baby was sick, remember?’
They all nodded: Branwyn and Biddy, Kormac and Alaric, Gisila and Eydis. And Edela. She was up and dressed too, feeling unsteady on her feet as she leaned into Kormac, who had an arm firmly around her shoulders.
They were going to meet in the secret room. It was the safest place that Jael could think of to hide everyone while they attacked the towers and the temple.
There was more nervous nodding; an impatience to leave.
‘Remember, take your time. Stick to your route. I’ll meet you there.’ Jael pulled open the door, surprised by how still the night felt. How quiet. They had suffered through a relentless battering of rain and wind for days, but they had heard nothing all night.
It reminded Jael of the silence before the raven storm.
The hairs rose on the back of her neck.
She thought of Eadmund and Oss, and squeezing Eydis’ small hand, Jael led them out into the moonless night.
VII
The Shadow Moon
44
‘Go,’ Karsten hissed at Berard. ‘He’s had a few cups of wine now. He’s not going anywhere for a while. Trust me.’
They stood by the entrance to the hall, staring back at Jaeger who sat at the high table between Haegen and their father, his head drooping slightly, his eyes bleary, struggling to focus.
Berard gulped.
‘Go!’ Karsten urged again, then turned to Hanna. ‘You go, too. As soon as Berard has Meena and the book, he’ll head for your ship. You need to get those men ready to leave in a hurry. I’ll stay with Jaeger and keep him down here.’
Berard’s boots were stuck to the flagstones; his eyes were as round as two full moons.
‘Berard,’ Hanna whispered. ‘Your brother’s right. We have to act now. I’ll get to the ship. Please hurry!’ And with a grateful smile at Karsten, who, despite his leery looks was being very helpful, she hurried to the castle doors.
Karsten watched her go, then shoved Berard in the direction of the stairs.
Berard stumbled nervously as he tried to focus on what he had to do.
Get Meena. Get the book. Get to the ship.
‘Don’t worry,’ Karsten whispered after him. ‘I’ll keep Jaeger busy.’
Karsten’s eyes widened as he turned around. Jaeger was struggling to his feet alongside Haegen, Irenna, and Nicolene, who all appeared to be leaving.
The guests had started dispersing much earlier than he had anticipated.
He hurried towards them.
Morana was ready.
Her tiredness and hunger had given way to an all-encompassing sense of peace. She felt clean. Open. Her mind was in complete harmony with her body, as though she was not solid at all; not flesh nor bone, but mist and lightness.
Like smoke, she would drift into the night air.
Into the Dolma.
Morana shook out her hair and took another drink of the ritual mead she had painstakingly prepared. It was bitter, but she kept drinking until her cup was drained.
Staring up at the window, she could feel the darkness, so heavy and powerful. Waiting for them. It would wrap the Followers in its shadowy embrace, hiding them from anyone who would try to follow them to the Crown of Stones.
Soon.
Morana felt neither hot nor cold as she let the fire slowly die.
She sat on her bed and pulled on her boots.
Soon.
Entorp had thought about his wife and children all day.
Their loss had caused a pain so great that he’d taught himself to pretend that it hadn’t even happened. It was a black hole whose edges he’d skirted for many years. But now, as he thought about The Following and what they had taken from him, he opened up his heart and let that searing pain motivate him.
Standing before the door of the southern tower, he tried to still his body as he reached for the iron handle. He had waited there for some time, lurking in the shadows, listening. The moonless sky covered the night like a cloak, and he couldn’t hear or see a soul. Just an annoying dog who kept creeping closer, wondering if he had any food to share.
Entorp hadn’t heard any noises from inside the tower in a while. He knew that he had to open the door and begin. It was the only way to know if they stood a chance. Jael was waiting in the secret room, relying on him, he reminded himself.
They all were.
Patting his satchel, and feeling his tools through its soft leather flap, Entorp swallowed and turned the handle, pushing open the door.
Berard glanced behind himself every few steps, but he couldn’t hear anyone coming. And then, just as he rounded the corner to Jaeger’s chamber, he saw Egil.
Gulping, he pressed his boots onto the flagstones to stop himself, watching as Egil took a key from his pouch and unlocked the door. Thoughts flew through Berard’s mind so quickly. He was not the biggest, nor the strongest, nor the most handsome of his brothers, but he had always been the cleverest.
Taking a deep breath, he waited until Egil was pushing open the door before rushing at him, knocking him into the chamber and slamming the door shut behind them both.
Egil tripped into the room. ‘Wh-wh-what are you doing?’ he exclaimed, turning to Berard who immediately punched him hard, right on the very tip of his hooked nose.
Karsten had taught him that.
‘Make them cry,’ he’d said. ‘You’re small and weedy, but if you can make them cry, they won’t be able to see a thing.’
And so, Berard did it again. His hand ached, and he cringed as Egil stumbled, toppling over, which was a feat, considering what a round, well-balanced man he was. Meena scrambled off the bed in surprise, hurrying to Berard.
‘We have to tie him up!’ Berard cried, grimacing, shaking his hand, looking around the chamber. He didn’t see any rope and quickly changed his mind. ‘We have to leave!’
Meena tapped her head, shuffling her feet, scared.
‘Meena!’ Berard yelled, gripping her arms. ‘We’re leaving! We’re taking the book! It’s evil. We have to get it away from Jaeger! Quickly! There’s no time!’
Meena blinked and nodded.
Reaching down, she pulled the knife from Berard’s scabbard and lunged at Egil, who was moaning loudly as he tried to sit up. She ran the blade across his fleshy throat, wiping it on her dress and handing it back to Berard before picking up the book, which Jaeger had left behind on the table.
Berard’s mouth fell open, and he didn’t move, staring at Egil’s dying body as he gurgled wetly and fell backwards with a thump.
‘We have to go!’ Meena urged, wrapping her cloak around her shoulders and securing the book beneath it. ‘Come on!’ She hurried to the door, looking back for Berard.
He took one last look at Egil, whose throat was leaking all over the stone floor now, and shook his head, remembering that Hanna was waiting for them.
They had to hurry.
‘And where do you think you’re going?’ Morana wondered, standing in the doorway. She could smell death approaching. She could feel that the book was in danger. Reaching out, she wrapped her long fingers around Meena’s wrist. ‘Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?’
Entorp crept into the tower room.
It was cold and smelled of old farts. The
fire had burned so low that there was barely any flame in the pit. He couldn’t see where the guards were, but he could hear their guttural snoring.
Dipping his hand into his satchel, Entorp pulled out a soapstone lamp and tiptoed towards the fire, holding the wick to the last of the flames; holding his breath, for surely when there was light, the soldiers would wake?
Jaeger didn’t think that he’d drunk much, but he could feel the effect of the wine. It was as though he had swallowed a barrel full. His head was spinning, and so was the room.
‘You need to take your brother to his bed,’ Bayla insisted, glaring at her sons.
Karsten rebuffed his mother at every turn, trying to ply Jaeger with even more wine.
Haegen knew that Bayla was right. He frowned, not wanting to face the strain. His leg, though recovered, was not ready to have all of Jaeger’s dead weight leaning on it. ‘You’ll need to help me, Brother,’ he motioned to Karsten.
Karsten had sat down, trying to convince everyone to stay with him, and he had succeeded for a while. ‘Already?’ he said, with an easy grin. ‘But this is the last time we’ll all be together for who knows how long, and you want to go to bed now?’ He held up his goblet of wine. ‘Why leave so soon?’
Irenna sighed impatiently. ‘Karsten, we all have to leave early in the morning.’ She smiled at Bayla. ‘I think I’ll turn in. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.’
Bayla ignored her. ‘Karsten,’ she muttered, noticing that the hall was empty now, with only the slaves and servants milling about, clearing up after the guests. ‘Help your brother, please. Your father is far too useless to do anything!’ It had not escaped her notice that Haaron was avoiding her eyes.
But Karsten knew that he had to wait until he saw Berard and Meena slip down the stairs. He had to keep everyone in the hall until then. ‘Irenna, Mother,’ he smiled warmly. ‘Just one more drink? A toast, perhaps? To the Dragos family! To rebuilding our reputation, our kingdom! To conquering all of Osterland!’
They all stared at Karsten without enthusiasm.
‘Well, if you’re not going to do anything to help your brother,’ Haaron grumbled at Karsten, ‘then I suppose I shall have to.’ And sighing at the mere thought of it, he stood and glared at his wife.
Karsten turned to the entranceway, trying to see up the stairs, but there was no sign of Berard and Meena.
He had to do something.
Jaeger couldn’t go up there. Not yet.
Berard thought fast.
Rushing past Meena, he snatched at Morana’s robe, yanking her into the chamber so hard that she stumbled, falling to her knees. Leaving her on the floor, he grabbed Meena’s hand and pulled her through the door, slamming it shut behind them. Quickly realising that he didn’t have the key, he burst back through the door just as Morana was struggling to her feet, knocking it into her, tipping her backwards.
Rushing to Egil’s dead body, Berard saw the key lying in the spreading pool of blood.
‘Arrrhhh!’ Morana scrambled to her feet and threw herself at Berard, wrapping her arms around his throat.
Berard spun quickly, throwing her off his back. She was so light that she flew towards the flagstones like a sack, and he scooped the bloody key into his hand and ran back to the door, stopping as Morana charged him again and this time he turned and punched her as hard as he could on the nose. She fell backwards, cracking her head loudly on the flagstones.
She didn’t move this time, and swallowing, Berard hurried through the door, slamming it after him, turning the key in the lock.
Grabbing Meena’s shaking hand, they ran down the corridor.
His lamp was burning strongly now, and none of the guards had moved, so Entorp shook away his nerves and hurried to the barrels of ale, placing his lamp on the floor and pushing them away from the wall.
They scratched and creaked loudly across the wooden floor. He froze, turning around. Three men lay on the beds along the wall, haphazardly splayed across the furs. Two sat slumped over at the table, their heads on their plates. He couldn’t hear any footsteps overhead. Hopefully, those men were asleep too.
Turning back around, Entorp brought the lamp down, looking along the wall for the symbol, but he couldn’t see it.
Panic flared in his chest.
He couldn’t see the symbol.
Aron had seen one in the northern tower. Aedan had seen one in the eastern tower, but Kormac had not had the opportunity to search the other two towers. There had been too many guards downstairs.
They had just assumed that the symbols were there.
But what if they were wrong?
Entorp took a deep breath to calm his rising panic, pushing the barrels further away from the wall. But still nothing. He could feel his heart skipping with urgency. He thought of his wife and blinked.
He needed to think.
Picking up the lamp, he brought it down across the wall to the floor, noticing some markings. Bending closer, he could see circular outlines where the barrels had obviously been at an earlier time. Crouching down, he ran his hand under a small stool and felt the deep indentations in the stone wall.
The symbol!
Jaeger’s head was up.
And suddenly clear.
He straightened his back, fighting off Haegen’s attempts to help.
‘Jaeger!’ Karsten called as his youngest brother staggered away from the table. ‘Jaeger, wait!’
‘Go after him!’ Bayla urged, worried that Jaeger would topple down the stairs. ‘Haaron!’ she grumbled, pushing her husband forward. ‘Do something!’
Haaron was ready to argue that Jaeger was not a child and appeared perfectly able to walk on his own, when he heard the blood-curdling cry.
‘Nooo!’
Haaron turned towards the entranceway, watching as Jaeger punched Berard in the face; watching as Berard fell back onto the stairs. He felt his right hand twitch, moving towards his sword.
‘What is happening?’ Bayla cried from behind him.
Karsten was running past his father, Haegen ahead of him.
Hanna stood on the path, waiting.
The sky was so dark that she couldn’t see a thing.
The crew had dragged the ship into the shallows and were now sitting at their oars, waiting.
All of them, waiting for Berard.
‘Berard!’ Meena screamed as Jaeger dragged her away.
‘What are you doing?’ he seethed at her, grabbing her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his emotions tumbling forward with the force of a waterfall. ‘You were leaving? With him?’
Meena’s face ached where he’d hit her, and she cringed away from him. ‘I, I want to leave,’ she mumbled. ‘I want to go!’
Jaeger looked as though she’d stabbed him. He raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face.
‘Jaeger!’ Haegen was there quickly, pulling back his brother’s hand before he could touch Meena again. ‘No!’
Jaeger elbowed Haegen in the eye and drew his sword, holding his brother at bay. Haegen shook his head, blinking as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Karsten, both of them, hands out, trying to decide what to do.
Haaron quickly joined them, and then Berard, who had scrambled back to his feet, his eyes on Meena who cowered before Jaeger, her face a bruised mess of terror.
Berard drew his sword, rushing forward.
He’d already decided what to do.
Entorp, Kormac, Aedan, and Aron came back to the secret room, one by one.
If there had been any light, everyone would have seen the ghostly sheen on their faces, the shaking of their hands, the sweat drenching their tunics.
But each one of them had done it: carved the symbol into the tower walls, then cut through The Following’s own symbol, hopefully breaking the binding spell.
And now it was time to go to the temple.
‘Grandmother,’ Jael murmured, tucking Edela’s cloak tightly around her knees as she sat on the floor, leaning against the hay bales. ‘
Keep Eydis close. If we get in trouble, if you see anything, you’ll need to guide Eydis.’
Edela nodded, her eyes alert, despite the hour. Her stomach was aching where Evaine had stabbed her, but that only spurred her on. She was never going to get back to Oss and see to that murderous little witch if they didn’t get out of Tuura. ‘I will. We’ll sit quietly together and focus on what is happening. I’m sure there’s something we can do. Don’t worry.’ She squeezed Jael’s hand. ‘Be careful. Be more careful than you normally would. Please.’ It was too dark to see Jael’s eyes, but she knew that they would have been avoiding hers.
‘You have the key?’ Jael asked Branwyn.
Branwyn nodded, shaking all over.
‘No one knows that you’re in here, so just stay quiet. No light, no noise. Just wait. We’ll come back soon,’ Jael whispered to her aunt. ‘We’ll come back for you.’
Gisila, standing beside her sister, was struggling to breathe. It all felt impossible. Too dangerous. Jael had ridden off to many battles, and she had seen the scars now. She had always been so fearless and determined, just like Ranuf, but this... ‘Jael.’ She didn’t know what to say. Her eyes filled with tears that her daughter couldn’t see.
‘Ready?’ Jael asked Fyn, who she could feel jiggling nervously beside her.
‘Ready,’ he mumbled, readjusting his sword for the twentieth time.
‘Right, then what are we waiting for,’ she smiled. ‘Let’s go and pay The Following a visit.’
45
‘Berard!’ Meena shrunk away, clutching her face as Jaeger turned to block Berard’s blade with his own.
Haegen drew his sword.
‘No!’ Berard screamed. ‘No! This is my fight!’ He slashed his sword towards Jaeger’s waist. ‘Take her, Karsten!’ he pleaded. ‘Take Meena and go!’
