by A. E. Rayne
Rollo bowed, enjoying the insult. ‘You were better than this from what I hear. You had a reputation as a real warrior once. Not this.’ He motioned to the panting, filthy, sunburned man before him. ‘Whatever this is.’
Eadmund threw away the empty water bag, shaking his dripping beard. ‘I was. And one day soon, I’ll be better than you.’
‘Ha!’ Rollo’s laugh came from deep within his rippling stomach, and it was loud, surprising Eadmund. ‘You’re a confident bastard... my lord.’ He was well aware that Eadmund was a king, but in the training ring there could only be one leader, and that man had to have earned his status. So far Eadmund Skalleson had done little more than run around, taking one whipping after another.
But there was promise there. Hunger in his eyes.
Rollo could see that.
‘Who are you looking to kill, then? What great enemy are you planning to defeat?’
Eadmund could feel Draguta’s eyes on him and he turned to see her watching him from the railings, Brill just behind her.
‘The greatest enemy of all,’ Draguta smiled. ‘So I need him ready. You’ve had enough of a break now, gentlemen. Back to work!’
Rollo frowned, disturbed by the cool intensity in Draguta’s eyes and the blank deference in Eadmund’s. For a king, he seemed quite happy to be told what to do by this woman.
As most people in Flane appeared to be.
And Rollo Barda had enough wits about him not to make trouble. Nodding, he bent down to pick up his sword. ‘Come on, then. Grab your shield. You’re going to need it.’
It had always amazed Entorp that a body could endure so much, be so near death, so far from life, and yet, still hold on. But as he looked Hanna over, he wondered how much fight her body had left. She was young – that was on her side – but she had neither spoken nor eaten in days.
Marcus looked no better as he sat beside her. ‘I will help you,’ he said blankly, looking up. His usually clean-shaven face was covered in a scruffy, black-and-grey beard. His eyes were tired, dark circles highlighting the deep indentations beneath them.
Entorp nodded. ‘I would like that. I have things to tell you. Things you need to hear.’
Marcus’ eyes showed some life as he stood, shocked by how stiff his body felt after sitting for so long. ‘What things?’ He turned back to check on his daughter before following Entorp to a corner, away from the dying and the grieving.
‘Edela thinks it’s a curse. The sickness.’
‘She dreamed it?’ Marcus’ body tensed. ‘She’s seen it?’
‘Ayla has,’ Entorp whispered. ‘She’s likely in the dream now, watching what is happening. What is killing her. She says it’s a woman. I thought you might know her. Briggit Halvardar. A dreamer. I believe I met her once. She was in The Following.’
Marcus stumbled, shivering all over.
‘I take it you know her, then?’ Entorp asked, leaning closer.
‘I do,’ Marcus breathed. ‘I do. She is quite... disturbing. A powerful dreamer, but dark. Very dark.’ He shook his head, remembering those cat-like eyes.
‘Well, according to Ayla, she’s the Queen of Helsabor now. The leader of The Following there too. She sits upon the golden throne, throwing curses at us.’
Marcus didn’t know what to say. ‘The Following? In Helsabor?’ It felt like all the air had been punched out of his chest. He looked at his daughter with new fear. ‘Briggit is a dreamer. She hates me.’
‘She does?’ Entorp was surprised.
‘She... pursued me when I lived in Helsabor, before I left for Tuura. But her father did not approve of me, and I was intent on becoming an elder. I... I... it was not appropriate. And there was something about her. She was beautiful but angry. I tried to be gentle, but she didn’t take it well. As a princess, she was not used to being told no.’
‘I don’t imagine it’s about you, though,’ Entorp suggested delicately. ‘The curse.’
‘I’m sure it’s not,’ Marcus agreed. He was so tired he could barely form his thoughts into a cohesive stream of words. ‘And does Edela know how to break it? Can she break it?’
‘We’re trying,’ Entorp said. ‘That’s why Biddy is here. We’re going to start cleansing this shed. Do what we can to remove any evil spirits in here. I will carve some protective symbols too. But until we get the Book of Aurea, or find out more from Ayla, we’re mostly blind. Edela is hoping the book may have the answer we need.’
Marcus looked desperate as he turned back to his daughter. ‘Curses are not broken easily, and if Briggit is the leader of The Following, it means that she is more powerful than we can imagine. I hope Edela finds what she is looking for and quickly.’ He swallowed. ‘I don’t think Hanna can hold on.’
Ayla could see them talking about the curse. She had been wandering the sheds in her dreams, watching what was happening; terrified to discover that Bruno was sick too. It was like a knife in her heart, and she felt helpless, unable to even touch him.
Ayla had been all over the fort too, watching Edela and Eydis try to dream; seeking ways to break the curse. But this was no ordinary curse from one who was trying to injure a rival or destroy a marriage. This curse was dark and insidious, designed to murder thousands; to wipe out the enemies of The Following in Osterland and beyond.
And Ayla was desperate to find her way back to Helsabor. She needed to see how Briggit Halvardar had done it. If she could find out how the curse had been thrown, there would be a way to break it.
The answer, she knew, was waiting in her dreams.
‘I can’t!’ Berard insisted loudly, backing away.
Karsten scowled as the men training nearby turned to stare at them. He strode up to his brother, wanting to grab him by the throat. He was tired and irritable.
Worried too.
Nicolene had been taken into the ship sheds in the night.
He couldn’t get his thoughts in order, and he knew that, before long, Bayla would be at the railings, demanding he come back to deal with some emergency. Though he supposed it was hard to blame her when her family were dropping like flies.
‘You can,’ Karsten growled. ‘And you will, Berard! I’m not asking you to become a great warrior, but you need to know how to defend yourself with that arm. When the dragur come, you’ll be with Bayla and the children. If something gets through...’ He ran out of breath and sighed. ‘With that wall barely mended, something is likely to get through. You’ll need to do what you can to defend them. I won’t be there, and now with Nicolene...’ He swallowed, adjusting his eyepatch. ‘I need you to be useful. Helpful.’
Berard could see the fear in his brother’s eye. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Show me again.’ And he firmed up his grip on the sword, glancing at Gant and Axl training nearby; jealous of all those around him with two arms.
Angry at Jaeger for taking his.
Anger helped. Clenching his jaw, Berard thought of Jaeger and what he had done to Meena, and he swung his sword with force, cracking it against Karsten’s.
‘Good!’ his brother exclaimed. ‘I almost felt that!’
Berard nodded and kept going, determined not to be left behind when Karsten went to Hest. Determined to be there, watching, when Karsten took off Jaeger’s head.
Hoping that Meena would stay safe until then.
‘How is Morana?’ Jaeger wondered, staring at Meena over his wine goblet. ‘Improving?’
Meena did not want Morana to be improving, though she was starting to realise that her aunt might be a better enemy to have than Draguta. ‘Yes, I think so.’
Jaeger’s eyes were alert, full of interest. ‘You do? And Dragmall? Has he been helping her?’
Meena nodded. ‘He came to see her this morning.’
‘And Morana seems different?’
‘She appears more... awake. Not speaking, but more... alert.’
Jaeger was pleased. ‘Good, that is good to hear. Morana was always very useful to me. I shall be glad to have her return.’
M
eena couldn’t say the same.
‘And my useless servant, whatever her name is. Is she still there?’
‘Yes, Else is still there. She said she was happy to look after Morana.’
‘That woman would be happy about anything,’ Jaeger grumbled. ‘I imagine she’d even enjoy being ordered about by Draguta.’ He swallowed, reminded of what Draguta had done to him in the hall; lifting him off the ground; sucking the air from his lungs. She would have killed him if not for Meena and that knife.
Jaeger smiled, grabbing her hand. Something about her was different, he realised. ‘You don’t tap your head anymore.’
Meena blinked, surprised that he’d noticed. ‘No. I no longer need to,’ she lied. She wanted to tap herself nearly every waking moment, but she was desperately fighting the voice in her head, knowing that she needed to become stronger, not weaker. She needed to fight the darkness that was trying to claim her by moving further and further into the light. She couldn’t give in because the light was where Berard was, far away from Jaeger, and the Book of Darkness and that was where she wanted to be.
‘We should head for the cottage, Eydis,’ Edela sighed as they traipsed across the square. She felt defeated by the day. Biddy had cleansed the ship sheds with Runa’s help, and then they had brought in Aedan, Aron, and Kormac who had worked with Entorp to carve symbols around the walls. But there had been no sign of improvement in any of Entorp’s patients, and certainly not Ayla.
It was no surprise to Edela, who felt anxious, sensing that they were quickly running out of time. ‘Those puppies are after their supper by the looks of it, and –’
She stopped abruptly.
Eydis reached out for Edela’s arm. ‘What is it? Are you alright?’
But Edela couldn’t speak. Tears flooded her eyes as she stood there in the dusk-laden square, watching Jael ride Tig through the main gates.
‘Edela?’
Edela swallowed, gripping Eydis’ hand. ‘It’s Jael,’ she said. ‘She’s home!’ And pulling Eydis with her, she hurried them forward.
Jael wasn’t sure what she should look at first: the broken wall, the gruesome bits of what must be dragon, or the old woman and the blind girl charging towards her. She took a deep breath, not wanting to meet her grandmother’s eyes as she slipped her feet out of Tig’s stirrups and dropped to the ground.
‘But where are your boots?’ Edela wondered, staring at Jael’s bare feet before blinking her tears away, and taking Jael in her arms. ‘My poor girl. I’m so sorry. Jael. Oh, Jael.’
Jael didn’t want to cry, but it was hard when she saw a crying Eydis over Edela’s shoulder, and when she could feel her grandmother shaking against her. ‘I had to leave in a hurry,’ she mumbled. ‘I’ve gone through a few boots lately.’
Aleksander smiled as he came up beside her, hugging Edela next. ‘We both have.’
‘Thorgils!’
Jael looked up to see Isaura running towards them, or, at least, trying to with Mads attached to her hip. He was whining loudly, jiggling up and down, but Isaura didn’t appear to notice as she ran to Thorgils who had just eased himself out of Gus’ saddle, ready to moan about how stiff every part of him was, but one look at Isaura and he had no desire to moan at all. She threw herself into his arms, squashing Mads into Thorgils’ chest as she sobbed into his filthy tunic.
Thorgils squeezed half of her as hard as he dared, trying not to make Mads cry even more before stepping back, tears in his eyes. He took her face in his swollen hands – that sweet, round face that had kept him going when he felt certain he was going to die – and he kissed her gently, and slowly, not caring who saw.
Now Jael could feel tears coming, and then Eydis was wrapping her arms around her waist. ‘Jael!’ she cried. ‘I was so worried!’
Jael pulled Eydis close, feeling odd; aware that she no longer needed to be worried about her stomach, which felt so different now. Neither the way it had been recently, nor the way it had been before. Just somewhere strange in between.
Much like her.
She quickly shut those thoughts away and stepped back, looking Eydis over as Aleksander released Edela.
‘How’s Hanna?’ he asked quietly. ‘Are we too... late?’
Edela was surprised by his question, but then everything fell into place, and she smiled sadly. ‘Hanna,’ she murmured. ‘Oh yes, Hanna.’ She wiped away her tears and slipped her arm through Aleksander’s. ‘She’s still here. Still hanging on. She is in the ship sheds. Why don’t you go and see her, and come back to the cottage when you’re done? Biddy will have some food, and there’s much we need to talk about.’
‘Is there?’ Jael looked worried. ‘What else has happened?’ She gripped Eydis’ hand, realising that she might fall down without someone to hold onto.
‘I think we need to get you to a chair,’ Edela said, noticing how pale her granddaughter looked. ‘A chair, a fire, and something warm to drink. Now, come on, I don’t think Thorgils will even notice if we leave.’
‘I need to see to the horses, and help Astrid first,’ Jael insisted, nodding to the healer who stood awkwardly behind them all, conscious that she was still in her nightdress. ‘She’s from Harstad. A healer. She’s been looking after us all. We... we had to leave in the night, and Astrid came along. I need to find her somewhere to stay until she decides what to do.’
‘Of course. I’ll take you to the hall, Astrid,’ Edela smiled kindly, walking towards the shy healer. ‘My daughter will know where to put you. And then we can find you something to wear. Eydis, you should go with Jael. She’ll be a while with the horses no doubt.’
‘No doubt I will,’ Jael agreed. ‘By the time I’m finished I might almost be hungry.’
‘But don’t do too much,’ Astrid suggested. ‘You’re still very weak.’
Jael frowned, but Astrid was not wrong; she was long past ready for bed.
‘Come on, then, let’s hurry along before it’s dark,’ Edela said, leading Astrid towards the hall, winking at Thorgils on her way past.
Thorgils barely noticed anyone was there, except Isaura. She had put Mads on the ground now, and he was howling in annoyance, tears streaming down his face as he thumped her leg, but she didn’t care.
‘I was so worried. Edela saw you covered in blood. I had Edela and Ayla dream walking to find you. To help Jael find you.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes,’ Isaura sobbed. ‘And now Ayla is ill. Dying. In the ship sheds. And it’s all my fault!’
Thorgils wrapped his arms around her again, enjoying the feel of her, inhaling her smoky hair, which smelled like sage and sausages. He sighed happily, relieved to be back. ‘You didn’t make Ayla sick. You’re not powerful enough to do that. The sickness is not your doing, so don’t blame yourself. But do pick up that son of yours, so everyone stops staring at us,’ he grinned, ‘and let’s head back to your cottage. Our cottage. I could really do with sitting in front of the fire. Maybe a cup of ale?’ His smile was wide as he stared into Isaura’s eyes, mesmerised by how beautiful they were. How familiar.
‘I’m sure we could do that,’ Isaura smiled, grateful beyond words to have him back. She bent down to pick up her screaming son and leaned into Thorgils as he wrapped his arm around her before reaching back for Gus’ reins.
‘If we can just stop off at the stables first. I’m sure Gant would appreciate it if I gave his horse a nice rub down after all he’s done to help me.’ Thorgils dreaded to think how Gant would react to hearing about what he’d subjected poor Gus to, but that was for another day. He had a whole night of being wrapped up in Isaura’s arms to look forward to first.
14
Eadmund was beginning to feel like a slave, not a king. Ordered out of bed each morning and sent off to train. Told when to come back. What to eat. Where to sit.
What to think.
And all with the whispered promise that Evaine would arrive soon. But another day had ended with only Draguta and Brill for company, and Eadmund could fee
l his tension rising.
‘Scowling at me will not make Evaine come any faster,’ Draguta said, ignoring Eadmund’s sighing and wriggling as she ate her shellfish broth. It did not taste of anything, and she was beginning to wonder if she required sustenance at all. ‘I have seen her, and she has done well, so you will be patient. Keep training, and soon everything will change. Once I have the book and Evaine arrives, everything will change.’
Eadmund didn’t feel as confident as Draguta looked, but he did sense that Evaine was getting closer. His heart beat faster when he thought of her, hoping she would stay safe.
Hoping she would arrive soon.
‘There are men following us,’ Bergil whispered. He had no teeth. It was hard to understand his mashed words, but Evaine could see his weasel-like eyes darting around in glimmers of moonlight, and she guessed his meaning.
Jaeger.
‘Will they catch us?’ She was cold. Shivering. The temperature reminded her of Oss, but she was dressed for Hest, and the cloak she wore was a light one.
‘They might,’ Bergil mumbled, thinking about the coins he was yet to claim. That prize would feed him and his family for years. If he could make it to Flane and back to Karp in just the one piece. ‘If you’ve got something they want? Or you’re someone they want to find?’
Evaine gathered the folds of her cloak around herself. ‘It’s no concern of yours either way,’ she sniffed. ‘You are to get me to Flane, and quickly.’ The fire spat at her and Evaine jumped away from the flames.
‘Then, that being the case, I think we should take to the horses again. Ride through the night,’ Bergil decided, his stiff, old bones not looking forward to that. ‘We’ll be there when the sun comes up if we do. Don’t imagine those men will be following us by then.’
Evaine was quickly on her feet, eager to be gone, though the intense darkness of the night worried her. The moonlight, when it came, did not linger for long, and Evaine was conscious that they were near the cliffs. She swallowed, her need to be with Eadmund bubbling inside her like a cauldron of hot water. ‘Well, hurry up, then. We don’t want them to catch us, for if they do, there’ll be no reward for you!’
