Winter's Fury

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘Keep your eyes open, Fyn!’ she called. ‘Watch for every movement. Remember what I did, how I took him to the ground. It doesn’t matter how much bigger he is than you if you know how to bring him down. And if you can bring him to the ground, you can control him and finish it.’

  ‘Will you shut up!’ Thorgils barked at her. ‘We’re trying to concentrate over here!’

  Jael laughed and took a drink from the jug of ale she’d brought Fyn. It was cold and refreshing after a long morning of grappling with Thorgils. She watched as Thorgils and Fyn circled one another, but her mind was back at the house with Eadmund. It hadn’t felt as strange as the first time. Aleksander’s face still flickered in and out of her mind constantly, but so did Eadmund’s. And Eadmund was her husband. He was hers. And that thought made her smile. She closed her eyes for a moment and pictured his face as he lay underneath her, looking deep into her eyes, his hands on her body.

  ‘What?! No! Ha! I don’t believe it! Jael, I did it! I did it!’

  Jael blinked herself away from Eadmund and saw that Thorgils was once again pulling himself up from the snow, and it was Fyn this time who was dancing about him like a mad hare, revelling in his victory.

  ‘I did it! I did it!’

  Jael laughed, then gasped as she watched Thorgils come up behind the celebrating hare and take his feet out from under him in one fell swoop. Fyn plummeted into the slush, face first.

  ‘Ha! Now I did it!’ Thorgils snorted. ‘Best you remember to watch your back, you little turd!’ And he strutted over to Jael, snatching the jug away from her and taking a long drink, the look on his face one of disgruntled triumph. ‘Time for swords, I think. I have a little revenge to dish out.’

  Edela opened the book as soon as Branwyn closed the door. She had thankfully taken Berta with her and left behind a comfortable fire and a plate of fresh hot cakes. Edela sat beside the fire, wrapped in a smoky fur, turning each page with great interest, her mind humming as she scanned the thinly-scrawled words and symbols. The smelly, old book was full of ways to protect herself from the darkest magic. Is that what this Morana was planning to use against Jael? Hoping to kill her or enslave her? Turn her against everyone she loved? Edela frowned. She wished Aleksander were here. She felt far too old to enter a war of magic on her own, if such a terrifying thing did exist.

  Edela had until spring to master these symbols and spells, to memorise all that she needed to know from the book; she doubted they would let her take it when she left. Symbols and spells to ward off evil, to keep Jael safe from Morana and her daughter. That was what they told her she was to do. But Edela knew that there was so much more behind all of this. They needed Jael safe. Why? Fianna had sent men to kill Jael. Why? Edela’s head was full of questions as she lay it back against the chair, sighing heavily with the burden of the last few months, as it rested its heavy weight upon her.

  There was so much more she needed to find out. What about those headless girls? What about the Book of Darkness? They had not appeared in her dreams without reason. She shook her head in frustration; she had not woken from a dream with any useful information in days.

  There was a faint knock at the door. Edela lurched forward in surprise, hurrying out of the chair and slipping the book under her pillow. She smoothed down her dress and ran a hand through her wiry grey hair, before going to open the door.

  ‘Alaric?’ Edela was surprised by the stooped figure before her. ‘How lovely to see you.’ He looked worried, she thought as she ushered him inside, his eyes quickly sweeping the room.

  ‘You are alone, then? I saw Branwyn leave.’

  ‘Did you now? Well, come and sit down and tell me what has happened, because I can see, dear Alaric, that you have much on your mind.’

  52

  They were in Eydis’ bedchamber, well away from Ivaar’s prying eyes, and hopefully, his little spy’s eavesdropping ears.

  ‘You must close your eyes and think of a word that describes what you are seeking,’ Ayla explained as she sat next to Eydis on her bed. Her face was strained; she had not slept much since Eirik’s visit. ‘That is the word you will repeat over and over in your mind as you are going to sleep.’

  ‘And that will help bring dreams to me?’

  ‘It will help focus them, yes, but in the end, it is the gods who will choose what you see. You can only ask, as clearly as you can,’ Ayla warned her quietly. She watched, as Eydis closed her eyes, wondering if it made any difference to her. ‘The other thing you can do is find an object, something to represent the person or thing you are seeking answers about. For instance, if it were your father, perhaps you would take an arm ring, or an item of his clothing, and hold it in your hand when you went to bed.’

  Eydis frowned. ‘And will that help me understand what is real and what is not?’ She turned towards Ayla anxiously. ‘Will I be able to tell the difference between my fears and my visions?’

  Ayla sensed the tension in Eydis’ face; she was panicking. She reached out and patted her hand reassuringly. ‘When the clouds of your dreams come, you must concentrate. This is when you will use your word again. Keep it in your mind. See it. Say it. Over and over again. This will help the clouds part, and what you will be left with is a true vision. That is the one you must grab hold of.’

  ‘But how do I do that?’

  Ayla sighed. ‘Well, that is the hard part. The elders in the temple teach us to walk into a dream. By walking into a dream, you become part of it. It becomes part of you. You are there, in it, and so it is easier to hold onto once you wake up. But Eydis, that is the hardest part of all. It may take some time for you to learn that.’

  Eydis took a deep breath. Her chest fluttered with nerves, but also some hope that hadn’t been there before. It had all felt so confusing and overwhelming, but now she saw a way forward; a way that perhaps she could help.

  Ayla stood up. ‘I should go,’ she said quietly. ‘Ivaar will be looking for me.’

  Eydis didn’t need to see her face to know how she felt about that. ‘Will you come again, though? Perhaps we could talk some more? I will try to do as you say, but I’m certain it won’t be as easy as it sounds.’ She smiled shyly and reached out for Ayla’s hand.

  ‘I will, of course,’ Ayla smiled. ‘But you must not forget that dreamers go to the temple for years to learn how to master their dreams. You cannot expect to have control after one night.’

  ‘No, but at least I know more than I did before you came. Thank you, Ayla. I hope I will find some answers when I go to sleep tonight.’

  Ayla looked down on Eydis as she wrapped her blue, woollen cloak around her shoulders, her forehead creased into a deep frown. ‘I hope you will too.’

  ‘Who is that parcel for?’ Jael wondered as she peered at Eadmund over her bowl of soup.

  They were eating around the fire, and he had barely spoken to her, much to her amusement. His nose was completely out of joint. He had a black eye and had limped back to the house with her. He was filthy, wet, and in a foul mood.

  ‘Do you have any other clothes?’ Biddy asked awkwardly as she handed Eadmund a second bowl. ‘I should like to wash those, I think.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Eadmund mumbled. ‘Clothes? Well, not that I have worn in a long time. I suppose they are shut away in my chest.’

  ‘Good, I shall have Askel fetch your chest tomorrow then, and we can see what’s in there. I’m sure you have something else you can wear.’

  ‘You would think so, wouldn’t you?’ Eadmund muttered as he devoured Biddy’s soup. Her cooking was almost reason enough to smile, but not quite; he was still too annoyed with Jael for that.

  ‘The parcel?’ Jael asked again, nodding towards the large lump Eadmund had brought with him on his first night in the house. He had left it by the door and not mentioned it since. Both Jael and Biddy had been keen to know what it was.

  ‘That?’ Eadmund didn’t look up. ‘That was something I bought for you. A Vesta gift. But I haven’t made my mind up whether
I want to give it to you yet.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Jael looked less than impressed.

  ‘Yes, really.’ Eadmund put his bowl on the floor and ran a hand over his beard. ‘You had me lead my horse out as if we were going riding and training together, and then you just left me there, like a small child, while you rode off with my best friend!’

  Jael laughed. ‘Well, what did you expect?’

  ‘I expected to go riding with you! Not to spend the day having my face pushed into the mud by Torstan! Torstan, who I used to beat every time we fought. Torstan, who couldn’t stop smiling as he ran me around like a little dog!’ Eadmund looked at Jael and there was a hint of humour in his eyes now. He was finding it impossible to stay as angry as he had a mind to be, not when he could see her, not when she was this close to him, and they were sitting around the fire together in their house.

  Jael handed her bowl to Biddy and patted Vella who had been sitting next to her patiently. ‘We have to beat Tarak,’ she said seriously. ‘One of us does. It’s more important than you know. To me. When the contest is done, you can be our friend again, I promise,’ she smiled.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ Eadmund snorted. ‘I shall look forward to that, but in the meantime...’

  ‘In the meantime?’

  ‘I think I should like to stay here. Or will you be sending me out to stay with Torstan and moving Thorgils in?’

  Jael raised one eyebrow. ‘Well, I was honestly quite happy here with just Biddy and the puppies,’ she said with a straight face. ‘We’ve gotten quite used to it being just us, haven’t we Biddy?’

  ‘Don’t drag me into your game!’ Biddy called from the kitchen. ‘I’ve far too much to do for any of your nonsense!’

  ‘How about you give me your gift and then we’ll see?’

  Eadmund frowned. ‘No, I think I’ll hold onto that a little longer. I want to make sure you’re not going to run away from me again. Perhaps, if you’re still here in the morning, I’ll give it to you then.’

  Jael stared at him, and he stared back at her, and she couldn’t look away. It was surely going to be much harder to run away this time.

  Alaric’s eyes flitted nervously around the spacious house. Compared to his tiny cottage, it was truly luxurious, with thick furs scattered over the wooden floor, plastered walls that retained the heat of the room, and beds that actually looked comfortable. There was obviously some reward to be found in blacksmithing, he decided, smiling as Edela handed him a cup of ale and a plate of hotcakes and berries, smothered in honey. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured appreciatively.

  ‘Something has happened, then?’ she wondered, bringing a stool towards the chair she had forced him into. ‘You seem distressed.’

  ‘Well,’ he shuddered. ‘Not so much. I just wanted to help. You.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she smiled. ‘Without Aleksander, I do feel very alone in all of this now.’

  ‘I’m not sure you should be delving into these things, Edela, but if you are,’ he tried to smile, ‘you can’t do it all by yourself.’

  ‘No, I expect not,’ she admitted sadly, thinking that she must find Aleksander. She needed to try and get through to him. She shook her head, bringing her attention back to Alaric. ‘So, what can you do to help me?’

  ‘Well... there is a scribe called Merya. She is very, very old now. Older than even us,’ he smiled. ‘And she was the personal scribe of Fritha, who was elderman when you were in the temple. When Rhea was removed.’

  Edela’s eyes widened. ‘I remember her, and of course, I remember Fritha. She was a very fair woman, wasn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, she was,’ Alaric nodded. ‘Which is why I thought it worth asking about Rhea and what she had done. Fritha would never have removed someone from the temple without a serious reason.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, Merya is no longer quite right in the head, it seems,’ he said awkwardly. ‘So, our conversation was rather meandering, to say the least. Much of what she said sounded like the jumbled ravings of a fool, but when I finally got around to mentioning Rhea’s name, she went completely white. Her face froze, and she hurried away into a corner of her cottage and stayed there.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘It took some time, coaxing her out, calming her down. I told her all about you and how you had returned, trying to help Jael.’ His stomach rumbled impatiently, and he popped a berry into his mouth. ‘She knew all about Jael, and her words suddenly became clearer. I told her about Fianna so that she would understand the importance of finding out what Rhea might have done. And eventually, she told me.’

  Edela edged forwards, holding her breath.

  ‘Apparently, Rhea boasted about the Widow. About knowing her and visiting her,’ Alaric whispered anxiously. ‘She said she had been taken to see her as a child, by her own mother.’

  Edela was surprised by that. ‘They threw her out of the temple because she knew the Widow?’

  ‘Of course,’ Alaric said. ‘They could not have someone in the temple, exposed to all their prophecies and secrets, who had a connection to that witch. Although, I have to say, perhaps it was the fantasy of a young girl? Surely the Widow couldn’t have been alive?’ He took a long sip of ale to try and calm his screeching nerves.

  But the Widow was very much alive, according to Aleksander, who had known where to find her because of his mother, who must have known because of her own mother. A terrifying shiver crept up Edela’s spine. Perhaps everything was finally starting to make sense, but what that meant for Aleksander, she didn’t know.

  When Eadmund rolled over the next morning, he found that he was facing Vella, not Jael. She licked his face affectionately, but she was not Jael. He frowned and fumbled about for his clothes, which were missing, convinced that he had placed them over Jael’s chest when he’d gone to bed. He wrapped a fur around himself, groaning at the pain in his arms, not to mention his legs, which were aching and heavy.

  There was no Jael when he walked out into the living area either. The fire was burning high, and Biddy was sweeping madly, but there was no Jael.

  ‘Good morning,’ he mumbled, trying not to sound as irritable as he felt.

  ‘And to you,’ Biddy smiled, placing her broom against a wall and going to stir the cauldron; she had been keeping his porridge warm while he slept.

  ‘Where’s my wife?’

  ‘She left already,’ Biddy mumbled, not wanting to meet his eye.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘She went to find Thorgils. They’ve gone training again.’

  ‘Of course.’ He didn’t look happy. ‘Have you seen my clothes?’

  ‘I have scrubbed them clean and will be getting your bath ready as soon as you’ve had this.’ She handed him a bowl.

  ‘So, I have no clothes?’ he wondered, taking the steaming bowl of porridge to his chair and sitting down.

  ‘None. Not until your chest arrives,’ she muttered, lifting the cauldron off its hook and carrying it into the kitchen. ‘And hopefully that won’t take long, but I expect I’ll have to wash all of those too. So, you may as well get comfortable.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Eadmund grumbled at her, unsure whether to be grateful for the food, which tasted better than it looked, or angry because Biddy was treating him like a child. He decided on the former. ‘I need to get training too, though. I can’t sit about naked all day.’

  ‘Well then, I had better get that bath water ready, hadn’t I?

  Eadmund spooned another lump of porridge into his mouth, glancing at the parcel, still sitting by the door. It looked as though it would be sitting there a while yet.

  ‘Jael, wait!’ Eydis called as she tapped her stick quickly in front of her, trying to navigate her way across the square with speed, which was not easy in the snow.

  ‘Eydis?’ Jael turned around and started walking back towards her, holding onto Tig’s reins, Thorgils following not far behind, holding Leada. ‘What’s wrong?’ She had been eager to leave as early as po
ssible, hoping to avoid talking to Eadmund. She still felt completely odd and out of sorts most of the time and the only answers she had found for that were riding and fighting.

  Eydis was wrapped up warmly in a thick cloak, with a fur tucked around her neck, woollen arm warmers and gloves as well, but she looked chilled to the bone. ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ she whispered. ‘Hello, Thorgils.’

  ‘Miss Eydis,’ he smiled. ‘Shall I leave?’

  ‘No, no, it’s not a secret really. It’s just that I had a dream.’

  Jael glanced at Thorgils. ‘Should we go somewhere less public?’

  ‘Is Tarak around? Or Ivaar?’ Eydis wondered quietly, her head turning from side to side, trying to listen for any clues.

  ‘No, no one at all really,’ Jael assured her. She looked at Thorgils. ‘Why don’t you come with us? You’re certainly dressed for it.’

  Eydis’ eyes lit up.

  Thorgils, though, looked less convinced. ‘Well, we are going to be training for most of the day. That won’t be very interesting for you.’ He raised his woolly eyebrows at Jael.

  ‘But she might find someone to talk to where we’re going, mightn’t she?’ Jael smiled, thinking that it was time Eydis made a friend and she knew the perfect person.

  Eydis looked intrigued. ‘I’d like to come,’ she smiled eagerly. ‘I haven’t been riding since Eadmund used to take me and that was many years ago.’

  ‘Good, I’ll go and tell your father and maybe grab something from his kitchen. I imagine you’ll need feeding before long!’

  Thorgils frowned after her, then saw how happy Eydis looked and felt the guilt of his morning moodiness. ‘Well, come on then Eydis, let’s see about getting you and Leada acquainted. How about you give her a carrot. That’s always a good way to impress a lady, I find.’