Winter's Fury

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘I can help you,’ Ayla said quietly, sensing Eydis’ turmoil. ‘Teach you more about your dreams. You are young, and they will be hard to manage without guidance,’ she warned. ‘When I first came into my dreams, I believed that everything I saw when I closed my eyes was a prophecy, and I couldn’t stop warning everyone, revealing what I thought was the future. It took me some time to learn how to tell a true vision from just a dream, to keep quiet until I was certain.’

  ‘There’s a difference?’

  ‘Of course!’ Ayla laughed. ‘That is what they teach you in the temple. How to sort through what you see, to hold onto what is important and useful. To disregard that which is not.’

  Eydis’ eyes were wide with possibilities, then. What if everything she had seen about her father and Ivaar, about the terrible things that would happen... what if those weren’t real dreams at all, just her own fears for the future? What if it was just her imagination, rather than a vision? But then she sighed as the light was extinguished; Ayla had come to her with the same dream.

  ‘So, you do see Ivaar becoming king then? There is no mistake in that?’ Eydis wondered sadly.

  Ayla paused. She despised Ivaar, but she needed to give him what he wanted to keep him happy, and that kept her cautious.

  Eydis could sense her hesitation in the heavy silence that hung between them, and she suddenly felt more confident. ‘I see him as king, and in my dreams he does terrible things to us all,’ she whispered. ‘He kills my brother and all those loyal to him, and in my dreams, he kills me.’

  Ayla gasped; she had not seen that. ‘But perhaps that is just what you fear will happen,’ she said quickly, trying to soothe away Eydis’ panic. ‘Dreams are always filled with our own worries. You must feel very concerned about what will happen after your father’s death. It is natural, I promise you, to be seeing such things.’

  Ivaar walked past then, and Ayla froze. He had been in a terrible mood since yesterday, but when he saw her talking to Eydis, he raised one corner of his mouth in a half smile. She nodded at him and looked away, trying to focus on Eydis again, but those eyes of his haunted her, as did Eydis’ words. She had not seen what Eydis had, but with Ivaar, anything was possible, and the guilt of what he might do, lay heavy on her heart.

  Neither of them had much of an appetite anymore.

  ‘Perhaps we have to tell Eirik,’ Jael sighed reluctantly, staring at the lifeless figure before them. Eadmund had shown no signs of coming around since his seizure, and that had been days ago. She glanced at Thorgils, who looked just as forlorn as she felt.

  ‘I think so,’ Thorgils agreed. ‘Someone’s bound to come looking for him soon. Let’s give him the night, and if he’s still like this in the morning, then I think we have to tell him.’

  ‘Perhaps we don’t mention the tincture, though?’

  ‘No, we definitely don’t mention that,’ Thorgils said, shaking his head. ‘He might think your family tried to kill him.’

  Jael couldn’t raise a smile, though, and neither could he.

  ‘You go, take Tig for a ride, see Fyn. It’s been so long. He’s probably starved to death out there,’ he said quietly. ‘Try to sneak away without Ivaar cornering you again, though.’

  Jael rolled her eyes, remembering her last conversation with her brother-in-law. She doubted he was very pleased with her, but she honestly didn’t care what he thought anymore; she was done with the plan. ‘I do want to go and see Fyn,’ she sighed, reaching for her cloak. ‘Tell him what’s been happening. But I won’t be long. I don’t want to be away long.’

  Jael walked over to the bed and looked down at Eadmund’s ashen face. His breathing was almost silent, his whole body so still. She bit her lip in frustration and turned away. ‘Perhaps prod him with something sharp while I’m gone,’ she suggested, finding a smile at last. ‘He’s obviously having far too many good dreams to be bothered waking up.’

  Thorgils walked her to the door. ‘Well, at least one of us is,’ he grumbled. ‘When he’s back from his dreaming, I’m going to bed until spring!’

  Ivaar kept whispering in her ear and then she would turn towards him, her eyes staring into his, and they would laugh at some shared joke that no one else was privy to. His leg was pressed against hers, Eadmund noticed, as he stood there watching. She looked different, so cold and far away; her eyes only on Ivaar. Eadmund couldn’t understand it at all.

  ‘It’s such a shame,’ Ivaar murmured as he rose and started walking forwards, ‘that it should come to this. But what choice have you given me? Have you given us?’ He turned around and put his hand out for Jael to join him. ‘As king, I demand loyalty, Eadmund. But what loyalty have you ever shown me? And now? You and your... friends here,’ he waved his hand dismissively and Eadmund turned to see Thorgils and Torstan standing near him. ‘You plot to try and overthrow me, to take my crown, the crown our father gave to me?’ His voice was rising as his eyes narrowed into blade-sharp slits. He let go of Jael’s hand and started circling Eadmund, his eyes never leaving his face. ‘Jael thought I should kill you right away, remove the threat you posed. But I told her that I wanted to trust you, to give you a chance to prove yourself loyal to me, to earn a place here on Oss.’ He sighed heavily. ‘But my faith in my family was misplaced, it seems.’ He nodded towards Tarak who was waiting nearby, his sword glinting in the sunlight.

  ‘Ivaar,’ Eadmund croaked as Tarak came forward, dragging Eydis, screaming behind him. Eadmund’s eyes bulged in terror. ‘Ivaar, please!’ He couldn’t move. His arms were being restrained by two of Ivaar’s bulky warriors; he was too weak to break free. He turned to look at Jael, but her face was an emotionless mask; her eyes wouldn’t meet his. ‘Jael, you must stop this! Please! Don’t let him hurt her!’

  Tarak shoved Eydis forward and knocked her to the ground. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her little body shaking in terror as she cowered beneath his shadow. Eadmund tried to lunge towards her but he couldn’t move. ‘Eydis, it’s alright, it will be alright, I promise! Just look at me. It’s alright, it’s alright!’

  Eydis started wailing as she kneeled in the dirt, her head spinning desperately, trying to follow his voice.

  ‘I’m here, Eydis, I’m right here behind you. It’s going to be alright, I promise!’ Eadmund called as calmly as he could. He could feel his heart racing inside his chest, could see Thorgils and Torstan trying to wriggle free from their restraints, their panic matching his. ‘Ivaar, no! I will do anything! Anything! Please let her go. I’m begging you! Please!

  Ivaar smiled as he looked into Eadmund’s desperate eyes. He nodded at Tarak and walked away, back to Jael, where he waited and watched, unaffected by the screaming, the tears, and the begging.

  Tarak raised his sword. Eadmund shouted and shouted in despair, jerking his body forwards, but it was no use. The iron-bright blade flew down to send blood splattering everywhere.

  Thorgils blinked. He’d almost fallen asleep by the fire, but as his eyes were closing, he was sure he’d seen Eadmund move. He got out of his chair and leaned over the bed, frowning. Eadmund’s body hadn’t moved, but something about his face was different; Thorgils was certain of it.

  He looked as though he was in pain.

  45

  ‘What’s happened?’ Fyn demanded as Jael dismounted. ‘Where have you been?’ She looked pale and tired; something was wrong.

  ‘Oh, that.’ Jael tried to smile but it wouldn’t come, and her face remained tense. ‘It’s Eadmund. He’s been unwell.’

  ‘Unwell?’ Fyn stared at her, confused.

  ‘Well, more than unwell, I suppose,’ she admitted as she led Tig over to the little shelter, tying him to the sturdiest looking post. ‘He’s not woken up for a few days.’

  Fyn frowned. ‘Not woken up? But he’s still breathing?’

  ‘Yes, he’s still breathing.’ Jael shook her head as she followed Fyn towards his hut. ‘But that’s all he’s doing. Thorgils is with him now.’

  ‘But what happened?
’ Fyn ushered Jael inside and was happy to see he’d left a good fire burning. He motioned for her to sit down.

  She sighed heavily and didn’t argue, overcome with relief at being away from the cottage, but at the same time, afraid of what could happen while she was gone. She told Fyn about the tincture and Eadmund’s seizure.

  He looked just as worried as she felt. ‘If only you could talk to your grandmother. If only she were here,’ he murmured. ‘Surely she would know what to do to help him since she made the tincture?’

  ‘I’m sure she would,’ Jael said wearily. ‘But she’s not, and I’m not her, so I don’t know what to do, except wait.’

  Fyn prodded at the fire with a short, iron rod. ‘But if he dies... there will be no one to stop Ivaar.’

  Jael leaned towards the flames. ‘As it stands, Ivaar will get the crown either way. Eirik hasn’t changed his mind about that. But yes, without Eadmund there’s little hope of getting rid of Ivaar, which is not good news for anyone, except Tarak. He loves Ivaar.’

  Fyn cringed, and Jael felt guilty for speaking so thoughtlessly. She tried to lighten the gloom on his face. ‘Unless, of course, I manage to accidentally kill him in the contest.’

  Fyn gave her a crooked smile. ‘That’s a nice dream to have, Jael, but it’s just a dream. If anyone is going to be accidentally killed, it won’t be him.’ He blinked repeatedly, trying to shake away the nightmare of that face... those hands.

  ‘Well then, come on, let’s grab the swords,’ Jael said, heaving herself up with some effort. ‘I need some practice if I’m going to make that dream of mine come true.’

  Ivaar leaned over the railings of the Pit, watching Tarak train; although he wasn’t really watching. He was staring in Tarak’s general direction, but in his mind, he only saw Jael. He couldn’t stop thinking about their fight – if that’s what it had been – and he didn’t know what to do next. She had been furious with him, and now he was utterly confused by the whole situation. The thought of taking her from Eadmund was so pleasurable that he didn’t want to let her slip through his fingers; not yet. And then there was the part of him that wanted her body. The frustration of that gnawed away at his already dark mood.

  Tarak bellowed loudly as he lifted his opponent up and threw him into the slush as if he were just an empty sack. He looked towards Ivaar triumphantly, seeking his approval, but instead, Ivaar sighed irritably and turned around, just in time to see Ayla walking towards him. She was a very beautiful, shapely woman, he thought to himself, despite her perpetually sad face. He knew how lucky he had been to stumble upon her; she was going to be the key to what would happen next, he was certain of it.

  He raised one eyebrow in Ayla’s direction, shutting all thoughts of Jael away; there was more than one woman who could tempt his body. ‘What did my little sister have to say for herself, then?’ he murmured into her face.

  Ayla glanced around, trying to avoid Ivaar’s hooded eyes. ‘She didn’t say much. I didn’t ask her much. As you suggested, I was just trying to make friends first.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ivaar’s annoyance twitched his lips.

  Ayla watched the darkening clouds on his face and scrambled to think of something to clear them. ‘But she did say that she saw you as king. She had dreamed that.’

  His face lightened. ‘And?’

  Ayla hesitated for a moment. She felt confused, but ultimately she knew it was Ivaar who would choose whether she lived or died. ‘And... she saw you killing her and your brother.’ She waited, watching his face for any signs that Eydis had been right.

  The slightest of smiles rose Ivaar’s lips, and his eyes, when they peered into hers, were bright. ‘Did she now?’ He scratched his chin. ‘Hmmm, perhaps she’s a better dreamer than you already? Maybe that’s a reason to keep her alive.’

  Ayla felt chilled to the bone as she stared at his emotionless face. She couldn’t tell if he was playing with her, but surely he was? He wouldn’t really kill his own sister, a little blind girl, would he?

  ‘Come,’ he said, his eyes full of something else now. ‘I need to see you naked.’ And he walked off without looking back.

  Ayla sighed with dread and turned to follow him, trying desperately to shut away the terrors that were lurking in her head, for she saw dark things coming for them all.

  ‘You look better,’ Thorgils said wearily as Jael sat down with a thud, her whole body numb from the ride.

  ‘Perhaps. A little,’ she admitted. ‘It was good to see Fyn again and beat him about with a sword for a while.’ She bent down and pulled off her boots. ‘Although, he is getting so good, he did a bit of beating himself.’

  ‘Really?’ Thorgils looked surprised as he hunted around for his cloak. ‘It’s been a long time since I saw that scrawny runt. Perhaps I’ll take Leada for a ride tomorrow, stretch out my own sword arm?’

  ‘You should,’ Jael smiled, pulling off her wet socks. ‘You’re going to need some practice before you fight me again.’ Her smile faded quickly as she looked towards Eadmund. ‘No change, then?’

  Thorgils wrapped his cloak around his massive shoulders. ‘Well, actually, he looks different, I think.’ He walked over and peered down at Eadmund. ‘His face has changed somehow. I was falling asleep, but I thought I heard him move or speak, and when I looked at him, it was as though something had shifted. What do you think?’

  Jael got up immediately and bent down to inspect Eadmund’s face. It was nearly dark outside, and the light of the fire didn’t illuminate much, but Jael could tell that Thorgils was right. ‘He looks as though he’s in pain,’ she frowned. She reached down and touched the deep crease that had formed between Eadmund’s eyebrows. ‘Right here. As though he’s having a bad dream.’

  ‘Well then, he must be dreaming about Ivaar,’ Thorgils muttered. ‘That bastard brings nothing but pain.’ He shook his head, eager to get Ivaar out of it. ‘Biddy came by while you were gone. Said she would bring something hot for you later, which I’m sure will be better than anything my mother has planned for me.’ He rolled his eyes in terror. ‘That woman does not cook well.’

  Jael smiled. ‘Well, why not go eat with Biddy, then? I’m sure she would have made enough, and honestly, I’m not hungry at all.’

  Thorgils looked at her uncertainly.

  ‘Really, go to the house, eat some food, and I’ll see you in the morning. And so will Eadmund,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ve grown quite bored of this now. I’m going to have him awake by morning, I promise.’

  Thorgils opened his mouth to argue, but the fierce look in her eye made him close it. She was determined, it seemed, and he saw no reason to doubt her.

  Edela was relieved when Aleksander left. Branwyn’s eldest boy, Aedan, had come with an offer of a drink, and Aleksander had not hesitated. Edela couldn’t blame him. They’d been cooped up inside Branwyn and Kormac’s house together all day, and she had not been able to think of anything to say to him. She’d dreamed of the note writer again, and this time had seen more than the hand and the ring; she’d seen Fianna Lehr’s face. But how could she search for the whys behind that vision? The only person she could ask was the one person she was trying not to.

  ‘Mother?’ Branwyn wondered into the silence of the room. ‘Are you alright? You looked very tired today, I think.’ She came towards Edela with a cup of warm milk.

  ‘Thank you,’ Edela mumbled distantly as she took the cup into her chilled hands. As pleasurable as it had been to see Branwyn again, she missed the solitude of her cottage, which provided her with all the quiet she needed to untangle her dreams. ‘I’m alright, my dear. I suppose there are just so many things on my mind. It’s hard not to feel anxious and frustrated. We don’t appear to be making much progress.’

  Branwyn pulled a stool next to Edela’s chair and sat down, frowning. ‘You must have made some, though. You and Aleksander always seem to have your heads together, whispering about something.’

  Edela could sense the eagerness in Branwyn’s eyes; there was also a
little resentment there, for which she could hardly blame her. She had opened a door, let both her and Kormac into their secrets, and then promptly shut them out. ‘We have not found out much at all, I promise you that,’ she smiled gently. ‘I will always tell you what I can, but you cannot know everything, nor can Aleksander, and even I’m not allowed to know all the secrets. There’s always someone who seems to be one step ahead of us all.’

  ‘You mean the elders?’

  Edela sighed. ‘Yes, them. If only they would reveal what they knew, then I’m certain we could just get on with things, but it’s all a big secret, and, as you said, they like to keep their secrets locked away.’

  ‘Yes, while the rest of us suffer,’ Branwyn said crossly. ‘I thought Neva would have been different. We were all so close once, but now I suppose, she is just like the rest of them.’

  Edela was barely listening. She was thinking about Aleksander’s mother. She turned her head to the side and peered at Branwyn suddenly. ‘You were close, weren’t you? You, Gisila, Neva, and Fianna.’

  ‘Yes, once, before we all married. Before Neva went to the temple, and Fianna left for Brekka with you and Gisila. We were all like sisters once,’ she smiled wistfully into the flames. ‘How different it all is now. And poor Fianna... what a terrible end she had. Aleksander looks just like her, doesn’t he? I’ve been thinking about her a lot since you arrived.’

  ‘He does, yes,’ Edela said, feeling her chest fill with hope. ‘He is a very kind man. He has been very good to me, especially since Jael left. But I wonder, do you think he got that from Fianna or Harald?’

  Branwyn looked puzzled by the question, and by the intense look on her mother’s face. ‘Well, I didn’t know Harald at all really. But Fianna... she was always very serious, often quiet. She would keep to herself a lot, so perhaps it is her he takes after. But why do you ask?’