Eye of the Wolf: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 1)

by A. E. Rayne

  Alys jerked awake, sitting bolt upright in bed, staring at her, and Eddeth jumped back so abruptly that she fell over with a thump.

  Alys barely noticed as she launched herself out of bed, running for the door.

  If it hadn’t been so cold, Sigurd might have fallen asleep. He stood on the inner wall, hands over a crackling brazier, yawning. The sky was still as black as a raven, revealing nothing but stars and shadowy shapes, none of which looked like an army on the move. He listened, though, wanting to hear any sign that Hakon was launching his attack, for surely night was ending, and dawn would soon arrive. He heard nothing but the whistle of the wind as it swept past him, disturbing the brazier, blowing his hair. Reaching up to his topknot, he took out the leather thong, deciding to secure it into a tight braid instead.

  Hearing a noise, he glanced down into the square, watching Alys rush out of the hall, green dress flying behind her. Her voice rose sharply as she ran to the men guarding the gates. ‘Holgar!’ Sigurd called to the old helmsman, who was leaning on the ramparts, staring out into the night. ‘You’re in charge!’ And quickly tying up his hair, Sigurd ran for the stairs, heart thudding.

  Alys was almost ready to give up when Sigurd emerged from the guard tower, hurrying towards her.

  ‘What?’ White breath smoke almost consumed his face as he panted, grabbing her arms. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I need to see Reinar!’ Alys was shivering, her bare feet red and numb as she waited impatiently on the icy ground.

  ‘Open the gates!’ Sigurd ordered, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders. ‘Hurry!’

  There was no snow, but frost dusted the trees, so it felt as though they were trapped in the depths of winter; white smoke streaming from red noses.

  Hakon stood before his men, watching the sky change ever so subtly from pitch black to a deep indigo as he raised a hand to Ivan, who was looking on down the line.

  And taking a deep breath, Ivan lifted his own hand, urging his men forward.

  Reinar turned at the sound of the gates creaking open, squinting into the darkness, quickly recognising Sigurd and Alys. He waited impatiently for them to run across the inner courtyard to the guard tower and up the stairs.

  Bolli stood beside him, blowing on his hands, wishing he could pop on his favourite old woollen gloves, but he needed to feel skin on his bow. He needed a steady hand. ‘What does she want, I wonder?’ he muttered, frowning.

  But Reinar was already stalking away from him, heading for the stairs, waiting for his brother to bring the dreamer to him. Alys had dreamed something. He could feel it.

  ‘Reinar!’ Alys was breathless, wrapped in Sigurd’s cloak which swamped her as she came forward.

  Gripping her arms, he stared into her eyes. ‘What have you seen?’

  ‘Banners!’ Alys couldn’t catch her breath. She was almost too cold to make her lips move. ‘I saw banners!’

  Reinar glanced at his brother, who lifted his eyebrows. ‘Whose?’

  ‘I saw the angry boar.’

  Turning to the trees, Reinar could see those banners as tiny shadows fluttering in a light breeze, the sky lightening further now.

  ‘I saw a flaming spear.’

  Sigurd looked horrified.

  ‘A dragon too.’

  ‘What?’ Reinar released Alys’ arms, stepping away. ‘But...’ He shook his head, wanting to hear more. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Sigurd was quickly by his side, shaking his own head. ‘No,’ he insisted. ‘That can’t be right. Erlan wouldn’t betray us. Nor would Alef. Their fathers were Ake’s men through and through. Both of them! They wouldn’t go over to Hakon. Their families fought to remove his grandfather. They know what the Vettels will do to Alekka if they take that throne again!’

  Reinar wanted to see the sun, hoping that Alys was wrong. He saw the shadows of Hakon’s army take shape, but it was impossible to see more in the darkness. ‘Go back to the hall,’ he said, turning to her. ‘I’ll send word when we know.’

  Alys nodded, handing Sigurd his cloak.

  He took it, not even thinking as he turned to his brother, eyes peeled open. ‘It can’t be. It can’t.’

  Reinar had a decision to make, and he made it quickly. ‘If she’s right, you’re leaving.’

  ‘What?’ Sigurd shook his head. ‘No!’

  Reinar grabbed him, whispering in his brother’s ear. ‘You’ve no choice. If Hakon has Erlan and Alef with him, we stand no chance. None. Especially without those reinforcements from Stornas. We can’t let Agnette die. Her child. Mother and Father. We can’t! Find Ludo, get him to help you. Start taking everything down to the ships at my signal. Check them first, see that they’re ready.’

  ‘But what about you? What about Ragnahild’s dream? It was real, wasn’t it? What she saw for you? You can’t die here, Reinar. You go! Take the ships and leave. Let me stay. She never saw anything for me, did she?’

  Reinar brought his brother into his arms. ‘You will go, Sigurd. I have looked after you your whole life, and I’m the lord here now. And as the lord, I’m ordering you to save our family. You will. You will save as many people as you can.’

  He pushed a reluctant Sigurd towards the stairs, turning back around.

  ‘Go! And look for my signal!’

  42

  ‘We must prepare!’ Eddeth cried as Alys entered the chamber. She had quickly drunk two cups of lavender and lemon balm tea, but they had failed to calm her nerves, which flickered like lightning. ‘The enemy is at the gates, and we must be ready to face them down!’

  Alys didn’t want to tell her that it was worse than any of them had feared.

  She didn’t want to believe that it was worse, but her thoughts scattered quickly, flittering away from her like ash on the wind. ‘Prepare?’ She felt confused.

  ‘Your cloak! Our symbols! We must be ready with our weapons, Alys. Yes indeed, we will defend this fort together!’ Inspired into action by own words, Eddeth hurried a pair of trousers on over her nightdress. ‘These were my favourite husband’s, though, that’s not saying much, him being as big of an arse as the rest of them. But they’ll come in handy with all the running we’ll do today. I brought you a pair!’

  ‘What?’ That was the last thing Alys had been expecting. ‘I... don’t need trousers.’

  Eddeth shoved the folded pair of blue trousers at her. ‘You’re a little skinny, but you can tighten your belt over them.’ And digging into her basket, Eddeth pulled out a dark-grey tunic. ‘I took this from Sigurd’s chamber. Might be a better fit than anything Reinar’s size.’

  ‘Eddeth!’

  Eddeth ignored Alys, tightening her belt. ‘We need to be ready, don’t you understand? That dreamer won’t be waiting! You think she wants to be left out?’

  ‘How do you know she’s here?’ Alys slipped the baggy trousers on, feeling odd. They smelled musty, though they were surprisingly warm on her legs, and she undid her belt, moving it over the waistband, tightening it again, cold fingers fumbling awkwardly.

  ‘The dreamer? Oh, I think you know she is. I see it in your eyes.’

  Alys knew she was right, she did feel it. ‘But what can we do? She’s powerful. Symbols won’t keep her out, will they?’

  ‘Maybe not. But we have more than symbols. We have our sight! We can see!’ And shrugging her dead husband’s tunic over her head, Eddeth wrinkled her nose, reminded of the foul smell of him.

  Sigurd found Tulia, and they hurried through the fort, heading for the bridge gates. Tulia felt anxious about leaving her brother on the inner wall. He generally made poor decisions without her, and she was eager to get back before he did anything silly. If they were going to leave, she wanted to make sure Amir came with them, even if he had to bring that annoying girl. ‘Wait! Sigurd!’ Tulia tugged his arm, pointing to the ramparts above the bridge. The men on the wall appeared disturbed, hands flailing, moving around.

  Sigurd tried to think quickly.

  If Hakon had someh
ow managed to get men around there, that would have cut off their only chance of escape. He hurried into one of the guard towers, storming up the stairs, bow and quiver banging on his back, Tulia right behind him.

  ‘Sigurd!’ came the cry as he turned left, then right. ‘Sigurd!’

  And Sigurd followed the arm of one of his friends, who was pointing to the bridge where armed men were marching towards them, led by rows of helmeted warriors on horses, banners flying. At least a hundred of them, Sigurd thought quickly, turning to Tulia with a smile. ‘Ake’s men! They’re from Stornas!’

  Tulia didn’t know how to feel about that. The men would be useful on the walls, but there were not nearly enough of them to make a real difference. Not if Reinar’s neighbours had betrayed them to side with Hakon Vettel.

  Sigurd’s face lit up, though, as he held up a hand in greeting. ‘Open the gates!’ he yelled down to the guards. ‘Hurry!’

  Hakon Vettel’s army kept multiplying before Reinar’s eyes. And those eyes were screwed up in fury now, watching the banners flying.

  Bolli was speechless beside him, having fought alongside the Stari and Olstein families for decades. He shook his helmeted head, irate, fists in balls by his sides. ‘How could they? How?’ Blinking at Reinar, he could barely keep himself still.

  ‘No one knows.’ Reinar felt his hopes and dreams shattering, leaving a single thought: to hold the wall long enough for Sigurd to get as many people away to safety as possible. ‘You have to leave, Bolli. I need you to find Holgar. Get down to the ships. Sigurd’s gone to check on them. Gather what you need quickly. As many helmsmen as you can. Find Sigurd and Tulia.’

  Bolli was incredulous. ‘You want to run? Leave?’

  ‘No, I want you to leave. I won’t be going anywhere.’ The fire arrow flew up into the sky. Just the one, Reinar saw, as the wind carried the arrow towards the fort with a whisper, dropping it some distance from the low wall. Reinar let out a small breath, hand on Bolli’s shoulder. ‘Get going now. Go on!’

  Bolli was fully dressed in his armour, prepared for the fight. He didn’t want to run away. He didn’t want to leave Reinar behind. ‘Who will stay with you?’

  ‘My men. I’ll send who I can. We just need enough here to make them think we’re all staying. Now, go!’ Hakon’s army was moving away from the forest, and Reinar needed to concentrate. He saw Torvig coming towards him, surprised by that, certain he’d only just left for a sleep. ‘Check the braziers! Check the water! Get the arrow runners ready!’

  Reinar watched as Hakon’s army fanned out even further, knowing they’d be hoping to spread his men thin, stretching his defenses. He waited, counting in his head as the army edged forward, watching as the front rank stepped past a boulder his father had named the lucky mark. Turning back to the inner wall where Amir stood waiting for his signal, Reinar nodded, pointing at him, watching as Amir spun away, looking down into the square, yelling at Ludo. And within moments, the first boulders were flinging overhead, aiming for their enemy.

  ‘Archers!’ Reinar bellowed. ‘My archers! Eyes forward! Light your arrows!’ The second wave of boulders flew over his head, and Reinar could smell the stink of fish oil in the air. ‘Nock!’ He waited, eyes on the packed heart of Hakon’s army, before darting to the flanks. Ludo had the catapults positioned in three directions, all of them creaking away.

  ‘Aim!’ The archers lined the inner wall, to the north, east, and west. ‘Release!’

  The lucky mark did not sit on the boggy field alone. There were other boulders positioned between the edge of the forest and the fort’s low wall, marking the different ranges.

  The fire arrows shot through the dawn sky, flickering brightly, landing nowhere near Hakon’s army. Reinar could almost feel the relief ripple through the rows of men who were moving forward slowly, careful on the field, sensing it was laced with challenges they could not yet see.

  The fire arrows hit a long trough of oil running across the front of the low wall, which quickly burst into flame.

  Torvig’s face was glowing as he headed back to Reinar. ‘Where’s Bolli going?’

  Reinar thought of his conversation with Tulia, and he almost didn’t want to say. He blinked at Torvig, before turning at the shout from behind him, recognising his brother’s voice. And eyes on the inner wall, Reinar froze in surprise, seeing the banner Sigurd was waving.

  The flames leaped up to form a wall of fire, men screaming all around Hakon as the boulders soared over the walls, crashing onto the field, sowing panic and confusion.

  ‘Back! Back!’ Lief urged. Horses had been left in the forest with their servants, and Lief was already regretting that he hadn’t pushed Hakon and Ivan to rethink that decision. He was struggling to see how much damage those boulders were doing; struggling to get a sense of who was holding, who was breaking.

  Hakon nudged Ivan, who had eyes like a hawk. ‘Whose banner is that? Can you see?’ He pointed to the tall inner wall, frowning.

  Ivan was distracted, though, motioning for his men to hold, listening to the pained wails of those injured by the falling boulders. The wall of flames lit up the inky sky, showing how many were being crushed, how many burned.

  ‘Ake’s,’ Ulrick answered from behind them. ‘That’s Ake Bluefinn’s.’

  ‘What?’ Hakon had quickly moved back himself, his long mail shirt glinting in the hot flames rising before them. ‘I thought Ake had no men to spare!’

  Ulrick shrugged. ‘He owes Stellan Vilander a great debt. He’s protected Stornas for years from this fort. I imagine he had a word with that stingy Algeir Tarkel.’

  Hakon didn’t care. ‘Bring the catapults up! Now!’ he screamed at Lief and Ivan. ‘I doubt Ake sent an army, so let’s break them quickly!’

  Ivan was growing more irritated with his cousin, who had praised his ability to lead and inspire their men, yet done nothing but dominate every moment since they’d begun. Ivan had barely been able to open his mouth. ‘We need to get the archers in range!’

  ‘Well, do it!’ Hakon’s eyes were sharp with fury, his body vibrating. He touched his pommel, wanting to rip his father’s sword from its scabbard and hold it to Reinar Vilander’s throat. He could barely contain his seething rage as it jerked inside him, demanding a release. But stepping back, away from the flames, he knew that they needed to get inside the fort first.

  Reinar couldn’t leave the low wall now, but he trusted Sigurd to know what to do. Stellan had taught them everything about the fortress since they were boys. Sigurd would know where to put the Stornas men.

  He would anticipate that Hakon would try to outflank them.

  Sigurd could see his brother, hand in the air again as he signalled Amir, who called for another round of boulders. He hurried down from the inner wall, needing to get back into the square to Algeir, commander of the Stornas men.

  Who didn’t look happy to be there.

  ‘It’s good you’ve come!’ Sigurd was breathless as he stopped, eyes still moving. ‘We’ve been betrayed by Erlan Stari and Alef Olstein. They’ve gone in with the Vettels. Their men are out there now, attacking our flanks!’

  ‘What?’ Algeir was horrified, quickly far less upset with being dragged up to Ottby. Losing Hovring and Vika weakened the Eastern Shore considerably. Ake would be furious. ‘You’re sure?’

  Sigurd nodded. ‘Take your men through to the low wall. We have to stop them there first. Take two thirds with you. Take all your archers. Leave the rest with me!’

  Algeir heard the snap and groan as the catapults swung again, flaming boulders lighting up the morning sky, and turning back to his men, he started shouting orders.

  Bjarni had come out of the hall, wanting to know what all the noise was about, amazed to see Ake’s familiar horse banner flying from the ramparts.

  ‘Get back inside!’ Sigurd yelled, realising that they had to stay now. He felt both relief and fear wash over him, knowing that though they had reinforcements, Hakon Vettel had a vast swathe of armoured men out the
re. Giant siege towers too.

  Bjarni hurried back to the hall as Algeir quickly organised his men into groups, and once ready, he followed Sigurd to the inner gates. After ensuring that Algeir and his men were let through, Sigurd grabbed the remaining Stornas warriors, heading for the guard tower, eager to get on the ramparts, wanting to see how everything stood.

  Mother sat in her tent, listening to the screams in the distance, ignoring the terrified girl, who jumped every time another boulder hit the earth. ‘When children play games with men,’ she murmured, eyes lost in the flames of her blazing fire. ‘When children play games with men, they get their fingers burned.’ She turned to Lotta, who appeared to be shivering. ‘You are cold?’

  Lotta shook her head. She felt numb. She felt nothing at all.

  ‘Well then, stop all that shaking. I don’t want to hear it!’

  Swallowing nervously, Lotta placed her hands on her legs, trying to still her body. She closed her eyes, hoping to focus her mind on a different noise, but all she could hear was Mother, who appeared to be chanting. And opening her eyes, Lotta watched as the old woman started sprinkling something over the flames, seeing them spark and spit. She couldn’t understand what she was saying, the words made no sense, but Lotta was sure it was evil. And she started shaking even more, squeezing her eyes shut. And then a tug, and she opened them in horror to find Mother sawing off a clump of her hair with her gleaming knife.

  ‘Perfect!’ she grinned. ‘Just what I need!’

  Alys felt silly wearing the black cloak inside, though she didn’t deny it was cold enough in the hall, but everyone kept staring at her, especially Gerda.