The Burning Sea

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘But what has Evaine to do with any of it, I wonder?’ Entorp mused, leaning back into Eadmund’s chair, more comfortable around them now.

  ‘Or the Widow?’ Edela wondered. ‘She must be mixed up in it somewhere, don’t you think?’

  Entorp shuddered. ‘Why do you say that? What do you know of her?’

  Edela noticed the sudden change in him as he stiffened, his eyes blinking nervously. ‘Of her? Very little, except by reputation of course. The elders want to capture her, I believe. They must think she poses a serious threat to Tuura.’

  Entorp shook his wild mop of hair, his eyes wandering far away from Edela. ‘The Widow is dead, surely?’ he muttered at last.

  Biddy glanced at Edela. She too could tell that something had changed with Entorp.

  ‘I should be going,’ he mumbled, scrambling to his feet and heading for the door, not even bothering to grab his cloak. ‘I shall come again tomorrow and see if the salve worked. Good day to you both.’ Entorp almost tripped over the door frame as he hurried away, not looking back.

  Biddy reached for her tinderbox, raising one eyebrow at Edela.

  Haegen laughed. ‘You don’t know my father. He prefers to acquire gold, not give it away.’

  ‘Not even for his sons?’ Eadmund wondered.

  Haegen’s eyes revealed more about his father than any words would have done. They flickered for a moment, lost, like a small child waiting for a show of affection that would never come. He inhaled sharply, remembering Berard and Jaeger. Prisoners. ‘What amount of gold are you talking about then?’ he asked through barely opened lips.

  ‘One thousand pieces,’ Jael said.

  Haegen looked relieved.

  ‘For each island,’ Eadmund went on. ‘And three thousand pieces for Oss.’

  ‘My father expected you would ask for something, of course,’ he said carefully. ‘However, one thousand pieces for each island?’ He shook his head. ‘No, that is far too much. He would never agree to that.’

  ‘Well then, you had better go back to Hest,’ Jael said firmly. ‘Find a way to make him agree to it. Deliver the gold, and we will return your brothers.’

  Haegen looked uncertain.

  ‘Your father sits on a pile of gold bigger than anyone in Osterland, and you know it,’ Jael said coolly. ‘Perhaps the truth is, his sons are just dispensable. Those that don’t bring him the victory he craves, at least. But surely he would like his island back, and his men?’

  Haegen ran a hand over his salty lips. He wanted a drink. He wanted this done. He needed to get back to Irenna to see if there had been any word about her father. ‘You can have the gold,’ he said, at last, knowing that his father would spit and snarl but ultimately be pleased to have it resolved quickly.

  There was more he wanted to turn his attention to now.

  Morana clamped down on the urge to scream as she sat in Varna’s chamber, watching Meena tap her head. ‘I do not see why you must hide me away like this,’ she snapped. ‘How can I do anything if I am trapped in here?’

  ‘And what is it that you plan on doing, exactly?’ Varna wondered as she shuffled across the floor towards the fire, her toes clicking with every step.

  Morana felt the tension in her shoulders as she sat, her eyes fixed on the girl. ‘There are other things we can try to find the book. Spells...’

  Varna laughed loudly, her mouth wide open, almost toothless, as she eased herself down into her chair. ‘Spells? You think that book can be found with spells?’ She laughed again, so freely that Meena stopped tapping and stared at her in surprise. ‘I didn’t realise that I had bred such a fool!’ Varna sneered. ‘If that book could be found with spells, why did it stay hidden for hundreds of years? Hidden from even the gods themselves? From all of us who have spent our lives searching for it? Dreaming on it? But somehow you can find it now?’ she snorted. ‘With spells?’

  ‘Well, how did he find it, then?’ Morana spat, furious with her mother’s mockery. ‘How did Jaeger Dragos discover the book when no one else could?’

  Varna frowned, disturbed by that very question. She truly had no idea. ‘At this moment, how he got it is far less important than where he put it, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘If it were me, I would not have left it behind,’ Morana sighed, scratching at her feral nest of hair.

  ‘Exactly!’ Varna smiled. ‘Which is why it is so important that he returns.’

  Meena felt herself almost rise up from the bed, her hand frozen in mid-air, her heart thumping at the thought of Jaeger returning to Hest.

  ‘Even though he wants to destroy your precious master?’ Morana growled.

  ‘My master is not Haaron Dragos,’ Varna said firmly, ‘as well you know. My master is the only master, the Father of Darkness. Our family has always guided the Dragos kings, hoping to find that book.’

  ‘And now we have.’

  ‘Almost,’ Varna smiled, turning to stare at Meena whose wide eyes were bouncing back and forth as she followed the conversation. ‘But in order to get that book away from the Bear, we are going to need to put our little Meena to work.’

  ‘A wedding?’ Bayla looked disgusted as she stood impatiently next to Haaron, watching Haegen’s ship as it edged tediously closer to the pier. ‘He has only just burned his first wife!’

  Haaron sighed. His wife’s tongue had sharpened so much over the years that he wondered how he could feel any affection for her at all, which he did, of course; more than affection. His love for Bayla clouded his judgement, he knew, but he was imprisoned by the desire to please her in the faint hope that she would look at him as she once had. ‘And now he will have another.’

  ‘A Furyck,’ Bayla sneered, her voice low and grating. ‘Our people will not take to her.’

  ‘Her father tells me that she is a very pretty, amenable sort of girl,’ Haaron murmured. ‘Furyck or not, they will take to someone worth looking at, someone they can grow to admire. Hopefully, her husband will feel the same... in time.’ He frowned, irritated by the thought of bringing Jaeger back, but what choice did he have? He needed Skorro, and Lothar’s plan for taking Helsabor was too tempting to turn away from.

  Bayla glanced at him, doubt in her eyes. She sighed, worried about Jaeger and Berard. She didn’t really care what deals Haaron had to make, what alliances he needed to forge to protect their family. If they could bring Jaeger home, she would happily endure his miserable sulking at the prospect of being married to a Furyck.

  Anything to bring him home.

  Jael eyed Jaeger with a frown.

  He glared back at her, defiantly.

  ‘I’m not going to miss that angry piece of shit,’ Thorgils mumbled beside her, his stomach growling.

  Food was becoming an issue with so many mouths to feed. The fort had been well stocked, but that was before nearly 600 Islanders descended upon it.

  Jael was hopeful that Haegen would return with the gold quickly. She was as desperate to get off this island as everyone else. She wanted to see Eydis, to take her home to Oss, to talk to her grandmother about getting rid of Evaine. But first, they needed to exchange prisoners and gold.

  And suffer through a wedding.

  ‘Mmmm,’ Jael agreed. ‘He looks ready to kill someone, doesn’t he? Maybe that’s what being the fourth son does to you?’

  ‘His brother’s nice enough,’ Thorgils decided, nodding towards Berard, who was chatting to Torstan. ‘Perhaps he was conceived while Haaron was away?’

  Jael laughed and turned to him. ‘Let’s walk down to the ships.’

  Thorgils was instantly intrigued, so he ignored the roar of his empty stomach and lumbered after her.

  Evening was settling over Skorro, a thick mist creeping across the sea towards them as Jael led Thorgils down the beach. ‘When the gold comes,’ she said quietly, ‘we will send the lords back to their islands. The gold should keep them happy, for a while at least. I want you to lead the rest of the ships back to Oss with our gold.’

  Thorgi
ls looked ready to protest, his eyebrows almost meeting in consternation.

  ‘I don’t know what Ivaar plans to do,’ Jael said calmly, ignoring his eyebrows. ‘I don’t know how loyal those lords truly are, or what plans they may make without us there. So, I need to know that Oss will be safe. And I need you to make it so. There’s no one else for me to trust. Not anymore. Just you and Fyn.’

  ‘What about Eadmund?’

  Jael looked around, but there was no one about. ‘That’s not Eadmund.’

  Thorgils nodded, his shoulders drooping. She was not wrong. ‘No, that’s not Eadmund.’

  ‘When we get back to Oss, somehow we will have to find a way to stop that girl, without losing Eadmund. But until then, we can’t trust him.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘And we certainly can’t trust Ivaar, or Haaron, or Lothar, or any of the lords.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But we can trust each other,’ she insisted. ‘So, you need to get the gold back to Oss and hide it. Take Ivaar’s share too. Bury it at Fyn’s old hut, then secure the fort. Prepare to be attacked. We don’t know what Ivaar is planning, but I will send most of the ships back with you. We’ll keep Sea Bear and Ice Breaker.’

  ‘What if you’re walking into a trap in Hest? Don’t you want more men?’

  Jael shook her head. ‘Aleksander didn’t seem to think so. He would have warned me if he thought there was a risk, I’m sure. But, if I am, you can come and rescue me!’

  Thorgils laughed. ‘I may, for a price.’

  ‘How about some gold?’

  ‘Well, now that you mention it, I may be taking on a family of five soon, if Eadmund has his way and kills Ivaar, so it could come in handy.’

  ‘I’m sure Odda would love the company! Not sure how you’ll handle that little howler, Mads, though?’

  Thorgils sighed wistfully at the thought of such a noisy fate. ‘Ahhh, I have my ways...’

  They sat together, eating in a companionable silence. The children had finished their supper and were now rolling around on the furs, playing and arguing with each other; ready for bed soon, Isaura was sure.

  Ayla watched them sadly, wistful for the children she had planned to have with Bruno before Ivaar had captured them both. She pushed a salted herring around her plate, distracted, her appetite gone.

  ‘You are sure he will return? Soon?’ Isaura asked. ‘You have seen that?’

  Ayla nodded. ‘Perhaps tomorrow.’

  ‘Does that mean they won or lost the battle?’ Isaura wondered anxiously. More than fearing Ivaar’s return, she was worried for Thorgils.

  ‘Ivaar is alone,’ Ayla murmured. ‘Just him and his men. I didn’t see anyone else coming.’

  Isaura sighed and pushed her plate away, picking up the jug of wine and refilling their cups. ‘I wish he were not coming at all,’ she whispered hoarsely.

  ‘He is not king,’ Ayla said. ‘If he were king, he would not be coming here. He is running.’

  Isaura turned towards a screeching Mads who was trying to bite Selene, watching as one of the servants hurried to grab him. ‘Do you think that’s because he killed Eirik? Do you think he killed Eirik?’

  Ayla felt muddled. Ivaar’s absence had given her a glimpse of the life she once had, the freedom she had enjoyed. But without Bruno, it had been a lonely and hollow experience. And now, Ivaar returning without his desired crown? That would surely mean bad things for them all. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘He is anxious and angry, I feel that, and running, yes. Perhaps he did... but it would make no sense unless he had the island lords on his side.’

  ‘If only we could leave before he gets here,’ Isaura smiled sadly. ‘It has been so pleasant without him. I can’t face him coming back.’

  ‘There is nothing we can do,’ Ayla said blankly. ‘We are all prisoners here. And only Ivaar will decide our fate.’

  Fyn had become so friendly with Berard, that he had managed to wheedle the location of a hidden stash of ale out of him.

  He was now the most popular man on the island, and Jael smiled as she watched him getting drunker and drunker as men lined up to share a cup with him. He was becoming more confident, but every now and then he would turn to her or Thorgils with a hint of anxiety in his eyes. They were watching him, though. They wouldn’t let anyone hurt him.

  Berard had been rewarded with unlimited ale himself and had relaxed considerably, Jael noticed, as he sat there, smiling in front of her, barely aware of the fact that he was bound to a chair, still.

  ‘Your brother over there,’ she started. ‘Is he really as mad as he looks?’

  Berard laughed drunkenly and peered over at Jaeger who was doing his best to ignore everyone. There was no ale for him. ‘Jaeger is...’ he sighed. ‘Yes, he is angry but...’

  ‘But?’ Jael sat forward.

  ‘But he cannot help it, you see,’ Berard went on, suddenly very earnest. ‘Our father has never liked him. He’s always treated him badly, so I do not blame Jaeger for his anger. He has no choice but to be that way.’

  Jael smiled. ‘Your father must like you, though?’

  Now Berard really did laugh, causing Jaeger’s head to snap around furiously. Berard didn’t notice. ‘No, I don’t think so.’ He shook his head, chuckling to himself. ‘But I am no threat to him. I am nothing in his eyes, neither good nor bad. The others... well, they all have ambitions, I suppose.’

  ‘And you have none?’

  Berard narrowed his eyes, trying to wind his way through the fuzz inside his head. ‘Well, I would not say that I have none,’ he murmured carefully. ‘But I am less... obvious about any ambitions I might harbour.’

  ‘Sounds smart.’ Jael topped up Berard’s cup, raising it to his lips. He smiled gratefully and took a long drink. ‘Your father and my uncle have made an alliance. They are going to marry your brother to my cousin.’

  Berard spat his ale straight back out.

  Jael blinked, surprised. She put down the cup and wiped the ale out of her eyes.

  Berard hurried to gather his thoughts. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘It’s just that... I was not expecting such a thing. My father, the Dragos family... we have always hated Brekka.’

  ‘Yes, you have, and the feeling has been entirely mutual,’ Jael assured him.

  ‘And Jaeger especially,’ Berard stumbled on. ‘His wife...’ he shook his head. ‘She has only just died, in childbirth. He is still grieving for her.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jael frowned. ‘And was he a good husband?’

  Berard’s eyes dropped to the ground. He could feel Jaeger staring at him, and his tongue tied itself in knots. ‘I, ahhh, yes, I, ahhh, he loved her very much, I’m sure,’ he said quickly.

  Jael nodded. She didn’t need to hear any more.

  Edela stood within the flames, watching Tuura burn again.

  But it was different.

  Mothers and fathers ran, clutching sobbing children to their chests as the fire spread from hay bales to thatched roofs, spitting flames into the dark sky. Horses burst out of stables, chasing terrified sheep and bleating goats down the main street.

  It was not the Tuura that Edela knew, though. There were no towering walls, or gates, no decaying houses. She frowned, confused, lifting her eyes to the temple, as it stood, apart from everything, untouched; its elders and dreamers rushing about, hurrying to gather water with which to hold off any threat to the sacred building.

  They were far away, but Edela could hear their anxious voices, raised in fear.

  ‘What do those girls want?’ one elderly woman cried, dressed in the long grey robes that elders wore. ‘To destroy their own people? To destroy their home? They are Tuuran! How could they do this?’

  ‘They want revenge upon us all,’ another elder sighed as he watched the people flee, desperate to run himself, but resigned to the fate that protecting the temple was his sworn duty.

  The elderman walked forward, solemnly, staring into the distance as a band of warriors rode out of t
he gates. ‘They are in the thrall of the book,’ he said. ‘Their souls have been corrupted. But we know where they are now. We will capture them. We will punish them, and destroy that evil book, once and for all.’

  Edela blinked as the temple faded into the night, flames rising, devouring everything before her. She sighed, desperate to turn away from the vision, eager to wake.

  ‘But they didn’t, did they, Edela?’ came the haunting, crowing voice, winding itself into the dark flames. ‘They didn’t destroy the book. And now it has been found...’

  The fire in the brazier gave off little heat, but it was better than nothing, Jael thought as she reached out her hands to the meagre flames. Her mind was busy with thoughts of Amma. She had never been close to her cousin, but she was desperate to think of a way to save her from Jaeger Dragos’ bed. That was a punishment she was not prepared for anyone in her family to suffer. Jael shook her head, frustrated. She didn’t see what they could do. Not yet. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked, turning to Eadmund, who sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. He had barely spoken to her since Aleksander and Haegen had left.

  Eadmund looked up. ‘I don’t think so.’

  Jael walked over and sat down next to him. ‘Are you thinking about your father?’

  ‘Of course, and Ivaar, and you, and Hest, and my son. Everything. But it’s different,’ he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. ‘I don’t feel anything. Not as I used to. It’s confusing.’ He looked up again, shaking his head. ‘I feel so strange.’

  ‘It’s been a hard few days,’ Jael said gently. ‘You cannot expect to feel right. It will take time. My father has been dead for three years now, and I still do not feel right. Nothing feels as it should without him.’

  Eadmund turned to her, staring into her eyes as though she were a complete stranger to him, surprised that she was even there.

  Jael shivered. She didn’t know what to say.

  ‘I know how I’m supposed to feel,’ Eadmund said blankly, turning his eyes away from her, towards the flames. ‘Sad, in love, angry. And perhaps I think I feel these things, or I act as though I do, but really, I don’t. I don’t feel a thing. And I want to.’ He frowned, reaching out to touch her hand. ‘I want to feel something. I don’t want to sit here, trapped on this island, in this black hole, waiting for gold. I want to go home...’ he sighed. ‘I need to take care of Eydis.’