by A. E. Rayne
Jael pulled on the door with a heavy sigh, wishing she was going to Fyn’s instead of having to endure this very public feast.
Her tired eyes widened as she entered the hall. It had been transformed into a magical grove, draped with hanging rows of fir branches, interlaced with white flowers and red berries. It reminded her of the King’s Hall in Andala, and memories of her childhood came rushing back. Her mother would take such pride over its decoration for Vesta, she remembered, just as Eirik had here. Every table was ornamented with fruit and branches, pinecones and leaves. There was so much white; beautiful, snowy white. White linen hung around the walls, with white flowers and green leaves strung across them. Candles, lamps, and torches appeared to have tripled in number. It was warm and fresh smelling; Jael almost felt cheerful.
‘There you are!’ Eirik smiled in relief as he grabbed her hand. ‘I didn’t think you were coming.’
‘Jael!’ Eydis came up beside her father and felt her way to Jael’s waist, eagerly wrapping her arms around her.
‘Well, this is all very nice,’ Jael admitted.
‘It looks better than I’ve seen it in years,’ Eirik said proudly. ‘All thanks to Isaura and Eydis. They did everything. I just grumbled along beside them. Shows why it’s better to let a woman handle this sort of thing.’
‘Where’s Eadmund?’ Eydis wondered. ‘I thought he’d be with you?’
‘Did you?’ Jael looked surprised, noticing the smiles on their faces. ‘No, I haven’t seen him.’
‘Oh.’ Eirik looked disappointed. ‘I thought...’
‘Jael!’ Ivaar came up beside his father, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Happy Vesta to you.’
Jael did her best not to cringe, but she certainly didn’t smile. ‘Ivaar.’ She met his eyes without any warmth as he stood there, right next to the little girl he had plans to kill; if there was any truth in the dreams people had been having lately. And she certainly did believe in the truth of dreams.
‘I hear your duties have ended now? Your patient has made a full recovery?’ It was good to see her. She looked very out of sorts, though; her face was drawn and cross, but he had missed looking at it, more than he’d realised.
‘Well, hopefully,’ Jael murmured, trying not to yawn. ‘Although, I haven’t seen him for a while, so who knows?’ She frowned, realising that she really should have checked on Eadmund. What if he was ill or drinking again? She had just run away without much thought at all; another thing to feel guilty for.
Thorgils wandered up to her with an easy grin, and her shoulders relaxed themselves away from her ears. ‘Are you alright?’ she smiled at him, noticing a bruise that had formed near one eye; that must have been her doing.
‘I can still see, if that’s what you mean?’ Thorgils tried to look annoyed, but he was in a good mood, despite Ivaar’s presence. ‘Enough to find where our good king placed all his best wine!’ He raised his cup, acknowledging Eirik, and took a big gulp, determined not to let Ivaar ruin his favourite time of year.
Thorgils froze as Eadmund walked into the hall. He looked tired and weak; almost half the size he was a few months ago. There was no stumbling this time, though. He was steady on his feet as he raised a hand in acknowledgement and came walking over to the group.
Jael followed Thorgils’ eyes, surprised to see Eadmund. Her whole body responded to him at once with an almighty shiver. She smiled quickly, then glanced away, noticing the intense look on Ivaar’s face. She didn’t want him knowing anything about her feelings towards Eadmund, so she tightened her lips and furrowed her brows, attempting to look as irritable as possible, which wasn’t hard.
Jael was standing with Ivaar. Eadmund clenched his teeth furiously but tried not to let his desire to kill his brother and yell at his wife overwhelm him. He picked up his little sister and gave her a squeeze. ‘Happy Vesta, Little Thing,’ he breathed into her ear. ‘I have a gift for you, but you will have to wait until tomorrow to open it.’
‘Ooohh, really?’ Eydis exclaimed excitedly. ‘You have not remembered a gift for Vesta since I was little! I can’t wait until tomorrow!’
Eirik drunk from his favourite silver cup, enjoying the sensation of the cold wine as it slipped so pleasantly down his throat; enjoying seeing Eadmund and Eydis again, and Jael was there, Thorgils, of course, and he didn’t even mind Ivaar’s company. He admired the festive decorations, listened to the musicians wandering around with their lyres and flutes, smelled the juices of the roasting pigs, and felt a genuine burst of happiness. Life, he decided, was still with him, so he would stop worrying about what the gods had planned for him, and enjoy what he had right now. He smiled contentedly and looked around for a serving girl to refill his cup. ‘Well then, you will be receiving two gifts, as I have one for you too,’ Eirik smiled at Eydis, enjoying the look of happiness on her face, which had been missing for some time.
Eydis clasped her hands together. ‘I knew you would make this Vesta happen, Father,’ she said happily. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down!’
‘Come along, then,’ Eirik said. ‘Come and help me find where the serving girls have all gone because if the wine disappears, you’ll be the only one who is happy with me!’
That left four of them.
Thorgils squirmed, ready to rush off but reconsidered as he noticed the simmering tension on Ivaar, Jael, and Eadmund’s faces. Perhaps it was wiser for him to remain?
‘Are you going to get yourself a drink too, Brother?’ Ivaar wondered coolly. ‘It’s so unusual to see you without a cup in your hand.’
Eadmund kept his face impassive; he didn’t even blink. ‘Certainly, if Eirik can find the serving girls, I’m sure I’ll find my way to some wine.’
Jael and Thorgils exchanged a nervous glance, both trying to think of a way to dampen the fire building between the brothers.
‘What sort of Vesta things do you do on Oss?’ Jael tried. ‘Do you play any games?’
‘Well, yes, lots of games, naturally,’ Thorgils smiled. ‘Usually after drinking most of Eirik’s best wine, so they tend to end up very messy. A lot of stumbling about, more drinking, some people piss themselves, take their clothes off, slide around on the ice, that sort of thing. You’ll enjoy it, I’m sure. Maybe even partake yourself?’
Jael looked doubtful, but in truth, she was barely listening. She was consumed by an overwhelming need to talk to Eadmund, or to run away from him entirely; she couldn’t decide which. But one thing she knew for certain was that she wanted to get away from Ivaar. He kept moving towards her, and she could feel his eyes trying to claim her, and Eadmund’s eyes sharpening because of it. ‘Well, the food looks good, so I’m going to eat.’ And, ignoring Thorgils’ pleading eyes, she left.
Eadmund stared after her, disappointed, but his head was clearer now, and despite the weakness in his limbs, he felt more capable than he had in years. He wasn’t about to let her slip away from him as quickly as she seemed to want to. ‘I agree with my wife, that food does look very good,’ he said shortly and disappeared after Jael.
Ivaar looked ready to scream, Thorgils thought, as he stood there awkwardly, wondering how to make his own escape. It was nice to see the twist on Ivaar’s face, but Eadmund wasn’t ready to play games with such a deadly snake. Not yet.
Gisila had lost her confidence in the night. She’d lain there, unable to sleep, listening to Axl snoring, worrying how she was going to keep him safe. Worrying what Lothar had in mind to do to her, whether Branwyn still lived, how her mother was faring, how Jael was surviving her marriage to that drunken oaf. She didn’t sleep, not once, and now, as she stood there, about to walk to Lothar, she felt ready to fall down, just when she needed all the strength she had to endure the worst day of her entire life.
Gisila had not wanted to marry Ranuf Furyck. She had felt too young and not at all ready to be his queen, but despite her reservations, she had not disliked him; she had never feared him. He was handsome, strong, powerful. Of course, when she knew him bett
er, he was also moody, argumentative, stubborn and sometimes cold. But he had been good to her and treated her with respect. With him, she had felt safe from the very first moment, but with Lothar...
‘I’m so sorry, Mother,’ Axl murmured through gritted teeth, his eyes tense, watching Lothar, who was waiting for them. ‘I promise I will protect you. I won’t let him hurt you. Not ever.’
Gisila tried to shut his words out; she didn’t want to cry. If she had any hope of surviving, and even thriving, she had to show Lothar her strength, hiding away any sign of weakness that either he or Osbert could use against her.
Lothar watched, with barely contained excitement, as Gisila glided towards him on Axl’s arm. He had not loved Rinda, the dead mother of his three children. He had endured her miserable body, her barely-there tits and her lack of any desire, but Gisila? He sighed happily as his eyes roamed over her chest. He couldn’t wait to run his fingers through her long, dark hair, rip that snug fitting dress off her, feel the heat of her perfectly soft flesh beneath his hands. He blinked, trying to shake himself out of that place, realising that he still had some time to wait, and besides, he wanted to make sure she was ready for what he had in mind.
Amma gave Gisila a small, sympathetic smile as she passed by, but Gisila barely noticed. She had hidden herself away now, behind a wall of strength that she would need to keep high if she was going to survive. She had Axl, and her mother, Aleksander, even Gant, and of course, Jael. In the end, somehow, she knew Lothar would meet his end at one of their hands, if she didn’t manage to kill him first.
Eadmund followed Jael as she approached the high table. He was determined not to let her slip away from him without a word or a look. He didn’t come back for things to be the same as before; he had come back for her.
‘Hello,’ Isaura smiled, grabbing his arm as she stepped in front of him.
Eadmund tried not to appear as annoyed as he felt. He smiled but feared it looked more like an angry grimace. ‘Isaura. Happy Vesta.’
‘And to you,’ she said quietly. ‘You look well. I heard you were very ill. I didn’t know if you were going to be here, but I’m so glad you are.’
Eadmund felt embarrassed. ‘I was, yes, but I’m fine now. Well, almost fine.’
‘You do look much better than when I last saw you. It will be good to have you around again.’ She peered anxiously around the hall, lowering her voice. ‘Ivaar is already acting like a king, collecting himself a loyal band of followers. After the contest, we’re going back to Kalfa to sort everything out and bring our household here. To stay.’
‘What?’ Eadmund felt sick. ‘You’re coming to live here? Now?’
‘I know. It truly is the worst thing for you, and Thorgils,’ she whispered. ‘Eirik is going to appoint a new Lord of Kalfa soon.’
Eadmund shook his head. He had thought there would be time to change his father’s mind while Ivaar was back on Kalfa, but now? ‘Well, perhaps we should swap places? Jael and I could go and live on Kalfa? You and Ivaar could come here,’ he laughed but it was hollow, and they both knew it.
‘How is Jael?’ Isaura wondered quickly. She knew she had to go and make sure everything was flowing smoothly, but she had barely spoken to Eadmund since they arrived; she was filled with so many questions.
Eadmund frowned; he wasn’t sure how to answer that. ‘She is well, I think. Tired from looking after me, no doubt. Looking forward to the contest, I imagine.’
‘You think? You imagine?’ Isaura mused, with one eyebrow raised. ‘I see. So it’s not going well then, your marriage? She seems quite... distant. Angry.’
Eadmund had his mouth open, ready with a defence that still felt muddled on his own tongue, when Ivaar and Tarak joined them.
‘Ahhh, there she is, my wife, the woman responsible for all of this... festivity.’ Ivaar swung his hand about dramatically; he was slightly drunk. ‘She’s going to make a very good queen, don’t you think, Brother? Our hall will always look well dressed!’ His smile was heavy with intent. ‘Here, I brought you a cup of wine, since you still seem to be without one.’
Isaura squirmed uncomfortably next to Ivaar, wanting to leave, but as she turned, she saw Thorgils watching her, so she turned back. Ivaar was drunk and who knew what he would do if he saw her near Thorgils; she didn’t want to find out.
‘That’s very kind of you, Brother,’ Eadmund smiled cheerfully, taking the cup, determined not to let Ivaar win any more games. ‘What a shame I can’t agree with you about Isaura, though. I don’t believe she’ll ever make a queen, not on Oss at least. I already have my queen picked out, and I would not wish to take your wife from you.’ He took a small amount of pleasure in the sour look on Ivaar’s face.
Jael made her way into the fray. She had seen Ivaar hand Eadmund a cup, and that had her up from the table and hurrying towards the huddle by the fire. She wasn’t in time, though. Eadmund poured the wine down his throat, just as she reached him. She looked at him in horror, but he wouldn’t meet her eye.
Now she was mad. She could feel the stir of her temper as it vibrated hot and red in her chest. She didn’t know who she wanted to yell at first, Ivaar or Eadmund? In the end, she decided to ignore both of them and direct her fury towards Tarak. ‘How are you, Tarak?’ she smiled, her green eyes narrowing on him. ‘I haven’t seen you since you pushed me onto the ice that night. Although, I do see your face every time I get a pain in my back.’
Tarak froze, feeling Ivaar’s furious eyes as they snapped towards him. He knew how Ivaar still felt about that woman, and he would not be pleased with him at all.
‘You pushed her over? Why?’ Ivaar wondered crossly, all thoughts of Eadmund momentarily forgotten.
‘Oh... well,’ Tarak tried to laugh, but his thick-skinned face only managed to twist itself into a terrifying grimace. ‘We were just laughing with each other about the contest. A few insults were thrown, that sort of thing. It was not serious, more of an accident. I hadn’t realised how light she was when I pushed her. I didn’t imagine she’d fly through the air like that.’ His eyes bored into Jael’s, and they were triumphant. He was certain he’d played that well.
Jael glanced at Eadmund, waiting for him to rush off and grab another cup but he stood there calmly, his eyes fixed firmly on Tarak. ‘Well, Tarak,’ he grinned. ‘I would advise you to keep your hands off my wife. If you poke a wolf, you only make it more vicious, more likely to attack without mercy. I hate to think what trouble you’ve made for yourself there.’
Tarak couldn’t help but laugh. ‘As you say, but if you’d seen the way she flew, like a piece of cloth, you’d hardly think she was a threat to anyone. It’s hard to be scared of a wolf with no teeth.’
Jael took a deep breath, pushed her feet into the floor, and tried to calm herself, but it wasn’t working; she had to leave. Her eyes darted about quickly, and she spied Thorgils. ‘Well, since Eadmund is doing such a good job of defending my honour, I shall leave him to it.’ She nodded quickly and made her escape, leaving Tarak, Eadmund, and Ivaar staring after her.
Isaura looked around at the three men, who all appeared ready to kill each other, and hurried away, deciding she would be much better off in the safety of the kitchen.
Edela stood outside the tiny cottage, shivering. The snow was falling at an increasingly heavy rate, and she didn’t know how long she could wait before needing to leave and seek shelter.
At last, the door opened, ever so slowly, and Alaric’s sleepy face peered at her. ‘Oh, Edela!’ he looked horrified at the state of her, covered head to toe in snow as she was. ‘I am so sorry! I didn’t hear you. My hearing is not what it once was, I’m afraid.’
Edela smiled tightly and bustled past him, desperate to get to his fire, and hoping it had some actual flames today. ‘Well, I know how you feel there. Getting old is no fun at all.’ She shivered uncontrollably, shaking the snow off her cloak.
‘I’m surprised to see you without your young friend,’ Alaric noted as he checked the water i
n the cauldron that hung over his moderately bright fire. He had enough dried dandelions to make tea for two, so he shuffled off into his kitchen and found another cup. ‘I did see him last night, though, stumbling out of the tavern. He looked rather unhappy with his lot.’
‘Did he?’ Edela muttered, her eyebrows pinching together anxiously. ‘Well, that’s hardly surprising... I accused his mother of being evil.’
‘Oh?’ Alaric looked at her in surprise as he brought the cups to the table. ‘Please, take a seat,’ he smiled nervously, trying to make up for his lack of hospitality during her last visit.
She moved the stool closer to the fire and sat down, pulling off her wet gloves. ‘I had a dream about her. Fianna. It made me doubt the sort of woman she was, the woman I remembered,’ she said sadly. ‘I wondered whether you knew of any loyalties she had, that might have caused her to want to hurt Jael?’
Alaric’s eyebrows rose at that. ‘Fianna? She always seemed a nice girl,’ he murmured, shaking his head. ‘It is so long ago, though. My memories of her are faint indeed, but I do remember her mother, of course... Rhea.’
Edela sat back on her stool. ‘Rhea Thorsen.’ It was as if the snow clouds in her head had suddenly shifted and she could see what they had been masking. ‘Rhea. Of course.’
‘There was something slightly strange about her, wasn’t there?’
‘Mmmm, there was. She was thrown out of the temple before she’d really begun her dreamer training. We were friends for a time, as children. I’m not sure what she did, but they never allowed her back into the temple. It made her quite bitter. We were never close again after that. She removed herself from all of us.’
The snow continued to fall outside and down the smoke hole, dropping into Alaric’s cauldron. He peered inside, deciding that the water looked hot enough. ‘She died quite young, didn’t she?’ he murmured, removing the pot and carefully pouring the water into the cups, his arm shaking from the strain.
