Winter's Fury

by A. E. Rayne

  From up on the beach, Jael watched the struggle to get her grandmother into the ship. She looked ill and frightened, desperately turning back to shore in the hope that she could remain. Jael closed her eyes and called on Eseld, Goddess of Travellers, to keep them all safe. She knew how much Edela feared the sea now, and could only hope the journey would not be too traumatic for her.

  The oars dropped into the snow-laced water, and the helmsmen were immediately alert; the heavier the snow blew, the more their visibility reduced. Navigating their way safely out of the harbour and into the straights in this weather would require every piece of skill they possessed.

  ‘Rather them than me,’ Eirik murmured to Morac, who stood next to him, shivering. ‘Those straights can be an evil bitch on the fairest of days, let alone an all out shitter like this.’

  ‘Mmmm, I’m sure there will be more than a few regretting their breakfasts soon.’

  Eirik laughed, turning around to locate Eadmund, hoping he hadn’t disappeared again. But no, there he was, swaying next to his miserable-looking bride. ‘What is she doing here?’ he hissed crossly, spying Evaine standing on the rise behind Eadmund and Jael. ‘I told you to keep her away.’

  Morac turned around, furious to see his daughter staring down at the ships, a dreamy smile on her face. ‘I’m not sure. I will go and take her home right away. I did tell her, Eirik, but she’s young. She probably got bored being stuck inside with Runa these past few days.’ He tried to laugh it off as nothing but an innocent, childish mistake, but deep down inside, Morac was fuming. They needed to keep Eirik happy, and Evaine did not seem to understand the importance of her role in that. The older she got, the harder she was getting to control, he realised in frustration.

  ‘Make sure you tell her again,’ Eirik warned, all humour leaving his face. ‘Our alliance depends upon this marriage, so ensure that your daughter is not a part of it or she is gone. Understood?’

  Morac didn’t enjoy Eirik asserting his authority so overtly, but there it was, his friend was king, and he was not. ‘Understood. I will make sure it doesn’t happen again.’ Morac bit down on his words, leaving immediately to grab his escapee daughter. He could feel Eirik’s annoyance following him up the hill.

  Jael didn’t want to watch anymore. It was done. Her family had left, and their fate lay in the hands of the gods now. She closed her eyes, trying to find some resolve inside herself to start her new life, but all she managed to see was Edela’s petrified face calling out to her. Not wanting the reminder, she opened her eyes and turned to follow Eadmund, who was stumbling up the hill, following the masses hurrying back to the dry warmth of the hall. Just ahead of them, she spied that girl again, the one who was supposedly tending to her sick mother. She noticed the way her eyes followed Eadmund and her sharp annoyance as the pointy-faced man grabbed her and pulled her away. Jael smiled sadly to herself, not thinking on it for too long; her heart and mind were filling fast with the cold realisation that she was suddenly, very alone.

  11

  The stables were damp and stunk of rotting things. Jael’s nose wrinkled; there was a difference between the smell of animals and the stench of neglect. Leaving Tig and Leada in this place didn’t sit well with her, nor them, it seemed, as both horse’s heads and tails hung low.

  Tig was it for her now, and Biddy, of course; her only links to Brekka and her family, if you didn’t count Tiras, and she chose not to. She couldn’t have anything happen to Tig, whether it was foot rot, or freezing to death in the coming cold. She reached out and scratched his muzzle, tugging on his forelock in an attempt to cheer him up, but he shook his head away from her hand, walking to the back of the stall in protest.

  ‘I wondered where you had escaped to.’

  It was Eirik.

  Jael’s shoulders dropped in resignation. She had hoped to escape anyone’s notice, for a while at least. Turning around, she offered a small nod in greeting. ‘My lord.’

  ‘You don’t have to be that formal with me,’ he smiled, glancing around quickly. ‘Now that your uncle has left, we can be ourselves, I think. Eirik is fine. I don’t imagine you’ll want to call me Father?’

  Jael considered him with a frown. Her father had lost a lot of men beating back Eirik’s ambitious invasions of Brekka over the years; she didn’t trust him one bit.

  Eirik laughed at her expression. ‘Or, we could just get to know one another first?’ He noted that she had been fussing about her horse. ‘Is something wrong with him?’ He nodded to where Tig stood, hiding in the shadows.

  ‘He’s not happy. Neither of them are. These stables are...’ Jael looked around, at the dank, rotting floor, at the hole-riddled walls, the roof that was leaking snow. ‘...poorly attended. He needs to be dry, warm, they all do. This hay stinks, and everything in here is damp.’

  ‘He is a horse...’

  Jael’s frown deepened; she felt no warmth towards people who didn’t care for their animals. ‘Yes, he is a horse. My horse. And I’m responsible for his wellbeing. Just as I’m responsible for the horse I brought Eadmund.’ She glanced over at the neighbouring stall where Leada stood, neglected; she looked just as miserable as Tig. ‘Valuable Brekkan war horses. Trained to fight. My horse is trained to fight with me. He needs to be dry and healthy. I need that for him, for both of them.’

  ‘Fine. I will have new stables built, next to your house. There is plenty of room there. Dry, weather-tight, with sweet-smelling hay,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Perhaps I cannot guarantee the smell, but I can ensure a roof, walls, a door, and a stable hand to keep the hay fresh. Anything else?’

  Jael was surprised by his eagerness to please, especially with Lothar gone. There was nothing false about Eirik’s expression that she could see; he gave her no reason to doubt his words. It was unsettling, and she couldn’t stop the irritation that dug its way under her skin.

  Tig returned to her then, and she ran her hand down his cold cheek. ‘Thank you. That would be good for my horses, but the rest here will suffer if these stables aren’t repaired. The roof has more holes than thatch! Someone needs to fix it. Someone needs to make sure they’re all looked after, not left to rot in this pile of shit over winter. If you’re not going to care for them properly, you may as well just eat them!’

  ‘Well, we are more about fish here than horses, I admit,’ Eirik said ruefully. ‘But I agree, it stinks of bad things in here, and no one does well in rot... I should know all about that.’ He paused to look around the dingy, rundown building, the fetid stench turning his lip down, memories of his childhood flickering faintly at the back of his mind. ‘I will see to it, but for now, you must come along with me, for Eydis has demanded your presence.’

  Jael didn’t know what to say. The right words would have been, thank you, of course, but they stuck stubbornly in her throat, refusing to come out.

  ‘You like horses, but you don’t like dogs?’ Eirik wondered wryly as he watched his daughter’s disappointment grow.

  They were in the hall. Eydis was sitting in a small, wooden chair, next to Eirik, in his much larger one, on a raised, fur-covered dais. The hall was crowded but quiet, filled with a companionable murmur, as everyone lazed about in a slumberous state after two days of overindulgence. The fires burned high, keeping the chill at bay, as snow kept piling up outside.

  Jael’s eyes followed Eirik’s down to Eydis. It was hard not to notice how deflated the young girl appeared; her eyes were large and moist, her bottom lip trembling. Having been so excited to give Jael her wedding present – two tiny, Osterland Hound puppies, that were currently biting each other’s fluffy tails – she had been met with this unexpected wall of silence.

  ‘I...’ it was Jael’s turn to be haunted by memories. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. They are a very kind gift.’ But her words held little meaning and did nothing to change anything; Eydis only looked more disappointed.

  Jael tried again, coming to sit on the floor beside the small chair. ‘I do like dogs... and these
puppies look very... it’s more that I, I had a dog once... when I was younger, maybe even your age. A very beloved dog, and she was killed.’

  Eydis reached out then, searching for Jael’s hand to hold onto. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Jael let Eydis grasp her hand, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable as she revealed her private memories in this very public place. She lowered her voice. ‘Well, it was very sad for me, she was my best friend,’ Jael said softly, as a long-forgotten ache returned. ‘We were inseparable. And the boy who killed her did it because he knew how much I loved her. I had beaten him in a sword fight, embarrassed him in front of his father and his friends, so he took his revenge on me, through my dog.’

  ‘That was cruel of him.’

  ‘It was. He was a cruel boy. But he achieved what he wanted. He hurt me, as I had hurt him, so he won. For a while.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘I killed him,’ Jael said coldly, then stopped herself, lost in the past as she was; she didn’t want to say anymore. ‘I swore I would never have another dog.’

  Eydis wasn’t in the least shocked by Jael’s revelation. ‘You don’t have to take the puppies, I understand. One was for you, and one was for Eadmund, but I doubt he would be much good at caring for them anyway.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose he would,’ Jael murmured, desperately trying to keep hold of that old pain as she watched the puppies rolling about, nibbling on one another, tangled up like a black and grey ball of wool, but they were irresistible. The thought of their company in this new, lonely existence proved impossible to ignore. ‘I’ll take them.’ She said it quickly, before she could change her mind. ‘But you shall have to help me name them.’

  ‘Ido and Vella.’

  ‘Which ones which?’ Biddy asked, unimpressed, as the puppies sniffed their way around their new home, chewing inquiringly on everything they came across.

  ‘Ido’s the black one, the boy. Vella’s a girl,’ Jael said grumpily. Despite the puppies obvious attraction, she felt annoyed that she’d ended up a dog owner again, convinced it would end in more heartache; she had a way of making enemies.

  ‘I thought you were done with dogs?’ Biddy took her broom and shooed the puppies away from her kitchen. ‘After what happened to Asta?’

  ‘Oh, I was,’ Jael groaned as she sat down to warm her chapped hands by the fire. The puppies raced over, begging to be picked up. She pushed them down. ‘But how do you refuse a wedding gift from the king’s daughter? Who happens to be a little blind girl.’

  Biddy smiled as she stirred the hot cauldron of stew hanging over the meal-fire, its fishy smells awakening Jael’s appetite at last. ‘So, marriage has turned you soft already, has it? Cooing over puppies and little girls?’ She lumped a generous helping of the stew into a bowl and handed it to Jael, who eagerly picked up her spoon.

  ‘Marriage?’ Her laugh had a hollow, bitter tone to it. She blew on the stew to cool it down. ‘If this is marriage, I’ll take it. Being in this big house, with that bed?’ She glanced longingly towards the bedchamber. ‘And no husband in sight? Perfect. If only Aleksander were here.’ He hadn’t been far from her thoughts all day; his absence was tormenting her.

  Biddy sat down with her own bowl, shoving away Vella’s eager, wet nose; she seemed to be the braver of the two. Then realising that the puppies must be hungry, she put her stew down and went hunting for some scraps to feed them. ‘It is strange, though, that he hasn’t returned, don’t you think?’ Biddy called from the kitchen. ‘Not that I wish to listen to that snoring again!’

  ‘I can only hope he’s happy to stay away, drinking himself onto a pyre,’ Jael mumbled through hot mouthfuls of stew. ‘Imagine being able to go back to Brekka soon?’ She frowned. ‘I wonder if they have made it back yet? Thorgils said that it’s not completely frozen over, and it’s surely colder here than in Andala, so they must have made it through.’

  ‘We can only hope so. I wouldn’t want to be out in that sea in the dark.’

  ‘No. I can’t imagine Edela will ever sail again. She looked petrified getting into the ship. I’ve never seen her so scared.’

  The puppies attacked the plate Biddy put down for them, scattering food all over the floor, eating as though they had not had a meal in days.

  ‘Fleas,’ she huffed, sitting down. ‘We’re going to be sharing this place with fleas.’

  ‘I imagine so. And plenty of shit and piss too,’ Jael smiled. ‘And that will just be Eadmund.’

  Biddy looked unimpressed. ‘I imagine he must turn up soon.’

  Jael choked on a mouthful of fish. ‘Don’t say that! I was looking forward to going to bed, alone.’

  ‘You can’t avoid him much longer. You can’t avoid what marriage means.’

  ‘And how do you know what marriage means?’

  ‘Well... I know what it’s supposed to mean, what I’m sure the king is hoping it will mean. Perhaps he needs to go and have a word with his son, remind him of how things are supposed to go?’ She pushed Ido away this time; he kept putting his hairy, black paws upon her knee, sniffing keenly at her stew, his dinner bowl already licked clean.

  ‘Why are you so keen to have that drunken mess here?’ Jael wondered, placing her bowl on the floor for the hungry puppies to finish off.

  ‘I’m not, but I can imagine what the king would do if he knew Eadmund had slept on the floor last night.’

  Jael rounded on Biddy, her lips set in a straight, thin line. ‘Well then, nobody had better tell him, had they? Especially not you. Leave Eirik thinking that everything is as it should be. Leave Eadmund out there doing whatever he likes. And we can stay here, undisturbed by any of them, for as long as possible.’

  Edela had never felt worse.

  She had crouched, numb from cold and fear, in the most sheltered corner of the ship, imagining Saga, Goddess of Souls, coming to claim her, tortured by the thought of dying before she could help Jael.

  The wind had stalked them mercilessly on their journey, tossing the ship about with an anger that kept everyone half frozen and on edge. Despite Edela’s surety in her own path, which she believed was not destined to end at the bottom of the Nebbar Straights, she had remained in a state of terror, her childhood nightmares holding her firmly in their grip. But more than that, more than the threat they faced, as the dark water thickened and froze around them, was the memory of their leaving and the girl on the shore.

  The girl.

  Was it a girl?

  Edela spoke to no one. Keeping all thoughts tightly bound to herself, she sheltered next to Axl, who did all he could to shield her from the treacherous conditions. Edela barely noticed. Those black eyes seared themselves into her memory, consuming her every thought. She couldn’t shake the chill they rose on her skin.

  Jael was in danger.

  When they finally, thankfully, arrived in Andala’s harbour that evening, Edela had only one thing to say as her grandson helped her out of the ship. ‘I must find Aleksander.’

  Aleksander hadn’t known what to do with himself after Jael left. He was completely alone for the first time since he was a boy and he felt emptied of everything that resembled love and hope. The pain of losing his horse was achingly raw and having Jael wrenched away from him almost simultaneously was more grief than he could consume. He hadn’t been able to find a way to cope with it. Drink was the obvious answer; dulling the agony, easing the transition. He tried that at first, but it just made everything more emotional. He gave up and just sat, alone, in their cold, lonely cottage, trying not to think and failing utterly.

  There wasn’t even Biddy anymore, who had cooked, and cleaned, and cared for him since he was a boy, just as much as she had cared for Jael. Of course she had fussed too much, coddled and nagged him as though he were her own, but in her way, she was part of his patched-together family too.

  As he sat in the dark cottage, Aleksander tried to recall everything the Widow had revealed to him in his dreams. Or had she? Had she really had anyt
hing to do with them? She’d given him the tincture to drink but did that mean she had fabricated his visions, or, as she told him, had he only seen what the gods wished him to know?

  Jael was coming back. Time and time again, he pushed all other thoughts away and held on to that one hope, but after she had loved another man and had his child. Loved another man; that bit stuck. Hard. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly aware of the frigid air smoking around the cottage. He knew that he needed to get up and grab a fur, but he couldn’t move.

  She would come back, so he would wait for her. But how long would it take? How long would he have to be without her? He closed his eyes, shivering now, trying to go back to the dream he’d had at God’s Point; trying to remember how old Jael’s daughter had looked when he’d seen her returning. How many years would he have to endure alone?

  The knock at the door was so faint that in his sleep and food deprived state he failed to notice it. But, as the door creaked open, Aleksander jumped out of his chair with a start. Even half-conscious, his reflexes had a sharp edge. When he saw who it was, his shoulders slumped with relief and sadness. ‘Edela! What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were due back for days?’ Coming towards the old woman, he embraced her stooped frame.