by A. E. Rayne
Agnette hurried over, having spoken to Bjarni. ‘Stornas men are here! Reinforcements!’ Her voice carried over the worried hubbub of the hall, her news greeted with cheers of relief.
‘How many?’ Gerda called, leaving Stellan to hurry to Agnette’s side. ‘How many?’
‘One hundred, Bjarni thought, didn’t you?’
‘Give or take a few,’ Bjarni mumbled, eyes on the hall doors. ‘I think so.’
Gerda was speechless. ‘That many?’
Bjarni winked at Stellan, who sat mutely behind his wife, eyes fixed on some unknown place in the distance. ‘Well, Ake owes Ottby a lot. I’m sure he’d have sent more if he could have.’
‘So we will stay?’ Agnette asked quietly, knowing what Alys had said about the betrayal of their neighbours.
‘Yes,’ Bjarni nodded, wrapping an arm around his wife. ‘We’ve got more hands. More archers. More everything. More surprises for that little shit Hakon Vettel too.’
Alys stumbled beside Agnette, banging into a table.
‘Are you alright?’ Agnette wondered, turning to her. ‘Alys?’
But Alys was in a dream, lost in the clouds, hearing Lotta’s voice. She blinked suddenly, turning towards the corridor, needing to see Eddeth.
‘Forward!’ Ivan shouted, eyes popping open in fury. ‘Forward!’
The flaming wall of fire ran across the front of Ottby’s main gates, but not around the sides of the fort. Likely they didn’t have enough oil, he thought to himself, wishing he’d kept his horse, wanting to see more clearly what was going on.
That had been a mistake.
Now he couldn’t see the contours of their flanks. They seemed to be shifting sideways like a snake, back and away, just as he needed them to move hard to the front. ‘Lief!’ he bellowed at the dark-haired man who was further to his left. ‘Move them forward!’ But Lief didn’t even turn his head, whether because the noise of their panicking, burning men was so loud that he couldn’t hear him. Or perhaps, Ivan thought with gritted teeth, wanting to scream, perhaps he was simply ignoring him?
‘Forward!’ Hakon urged from the centre of their front rank. ‘We must break the fire wall! We can’t stay here, pinned in place! Get the range! Bring the towers forward! Hurry!’
Lief wasn’t sure what Hakon was thinking, but he was too far away to argue, so he ordered his men to hold, and ran towards Hakon, arms flailing. ‘My lord! Wait!’
Hakon spun around, irate. ‘You need to be over there, moving your men!’
‘After we fire the catapults, lord! After! We agreed that we needed to attack from the back. Remember?’
Some memory of that flittered into Hakon’s scattered mind, but he dismissed it quickly. He just wanted to be at the gates so badly. It was all he could think about. It was as though his sword was calling to him, urging him to move forward. The boulders flew, scattering the army, flames rising up all around him, the screams deafening now, but all Hakon could hear was the call of his sword. He stared straight ahead, eyes on the wall of fire, ignoring Lief.
‘We must approach this in steps, lord!’ Lief implored. ‘We must distract them as we planned!’ He didn’t know what had happened. Hakon had placed his slightly more experienced cousin in charge of their army, and then run through everything they’d discussed, making a mess they would now struggle to contain.
Hakon Vettel seemed intent on getting them all killed.
Ivan had run back to his cousin, having sent two of his men to gather horses for him and Lief. Hakon looked out of control, his eyes peeled back so far that he appeared to have no eyelids at all. ‘Cousin! We must fire the catapults! The Hovring and Vika men won’t move up on the flanks until we do! And they’re right! We can’t change our minds now!’
Another volley of boulders crashed down onto their rattled warriors, and the three men jumped away as a flaming rock rolled towards them, stopping quickly. Ivan fell into another man, both of them tumbling to the ground, helmets clashing. He rolled over, back on his feet quickly, stumbling towards his cousin, ears ringing. ‘You must listen to me, Hakon!’ He could see Lief picking himself out of a pile of men, shaking his head. ‘We outnumber them, so let’s act like it!
Tulia watched the field with a smile.
Hakon’s army was in disarray, which was a promising start. After her hopes of an escape had lifted and then been quickly dashed, she’d turned her attention back to the inner wall and her Ullaberg archers, who shuffled nervously on either side of her. ‘We’re the second line of defense!’ she called, wanting to knock some confidence into them. ‘The second line!’ And strolling back and forth before the women, one eye on Sigurd, she lifted her voice, making herself heard over the screaming panic on the field, and the flurry of noise down in the square. ‘There’s nothing for us to do but wait! Check our arrows! Check our bows! Ensure the braziers are burning! That water is nearby!’ Tulia almost felt tempted to send the women down into the square to help Ludo with the catapults or into the hall with Bjarni, but she had trained them. And some of them were more than useful now, taking pride in what they’d learned.
They deserved a chance to show it.
‘We wait!’ she called as Sigurd strode towards her. ‘Wait for my call!’ And turning to him, she searched his eyes. ‘How are the Stornas men?’
‘Tired,’ Sigurd grinned. ‘They marched hard, through the night.’ He saw the look in her eyes. ‘You thought we were gone, didn’t you?’ He turned his focus to Reinar, who was busy running the low wall. Always moving. Continually checking their flanks. Looking back up to the inner wall, one eye on his brother.
‘Ahhh, who wants to live anyway?’ she murmured in his ear, turning with a smile as she headed away to speak to Amir.
‘She’s going to kill my daughter!’ Alys panicked, gripping Eddeth’s hands. ‘Lotta is terrified. I feel it. I saw the woman. She was threatening her life!’
Eddeth was oddly calm. Not one part of her moved.
‘She won’t kill her. Why would she?’ And pulling Alys towards the bed, Eddeth pushed her down onto it, sitting beside her. ‘Think it through. If you take a hostage, you have leverage. If you kill the hostage, you have nothing. No bargaining power at all! That old bat won’t kill your girl. Not unless she’s thick as a block of wood, and I doubt that can be true. Casting that wolf spell? Bruising your neck like that?’ Eddeth shook her head. ‘No, she won’t kill your girl. But she wants to hurt you. Distract you. If you’re worried about Lotta, you won’t be thinking about how to stop her, will you?’
Eddeth sat back, brimming with confidence.
Her mind was usually like a stuffed chest, and she struggled to remember anything, let alone order her thoughts. But the new day had brought clarity. Or perhaps it was the tea, she thought on reflection. She had added some valerian, which had certainly tasted like damp socks, but the result had been nothing short of staggering. ‘The day lies ahead of us, Alys! The men out there will throw rocks at one another until they grow bored or run out. They will fire arrows into the sky until there are no more. Hakon’s men will assault the walls, and Reinar will try to stop them, and us?’
‘Us?’ Alys turned to her, needing some reassurance.
‘We will be ready for what comes after. For that is where our destiny lies!’
43
‘You’re sure you know where you’re going?’ Magnus wondered as the trees closed in around them again. It no longer felt as though they were travelling on a road at all, but traipsing through the woods, which was pleasant, though slightly unsettling.
Jonas laughed. ‘You remind me of your mother! She never had any faith in my sense of direction either. I’m not sure why, I don’t remember ever getting lost!’ He rode behind Magnus, with Vik out in front. After the Ten Year’s War ended, Vik had disappeared for months, lost in the wilderness, needing to get away from death and killing, from people altogether. He had vanished like smoke, disappearing into the forest, exploring every corner of the Eastern Shore; going further inland,
up North too. He knew more about how to get around Alekka than anyone Jonas knew of. ‘But don’t take my word for it. Vik’s the one who knows where he’s going. All you and I need to do is sit back and enjoy the scenery. Listen to those birds. Look out for supper!’
Magnus’ stomach was already growling, and the thought of supper distracted him for a while. He didn’t want a squirrel. Maybe he would see a pheasant or a rabbit. Perhaps a boar? That thought terrified him, though. He’d been on one boar hunt with his father, and the noise those creatures made was frightening; that and their enormous teeth. He nodded, quickly leaving those memories behind, never wanting to think about his father again.
‘We turn here!’ Vik called, hand in the air.
Jonas squinted, seeing nothing but walls of thick fir trees, deep green and sprinkled with frost. It felt dark within the wood. Ice cold too. He had no idea where they were, but hopefully, they would see the sun soon.
The sun was being swallowed by the gathering clouds as Reinar watched his enemy from the low wall. The wind had strengthened, blowing into his face with an icy determination, and he shivered as he ran his eyes over the field. They had a healthy supply of boulders, he knew, but it would be important to hold some of them back, and so, the catapults had gone quiet as they waited for Hakon Vettel to make his next move.
His men seemed disorderly, his leaders absent.
There was little formation on the field, which surprised Reinar, who had known Hakon’s father as a man of precision in battle. Jesper Vettel had been vain and vicious, with grand ambitions of reclaiming his father’s throne. He had done everything in his power to realise that ambition, though in all his years of trying, he’d been unable to get through Ottby.
Reinar briefly saw his own ambitions flash before his eyes, wondering if he too was a vain man for ever entertaining them.
‘He’s acting like a boy!’ Torvig laughed beside him. ‘A boy who’s seen a piece of cake. And everything else has gone from his mind. He just wants the fucking cake!’
Reinar’s smile was barely discernible. Torvig was right, but perhaps it was all a game? Perhaps Hakon was planning to lull them into a sense of complacency? Especially now that they’d received reinforcements. ‘Well, he’s welcome to try and take a piece. I wouldn’t mind. But he’s got a long way to go to get here, and a lot of men who won’t be happy being pushed forward now. Not through those flames.’
Torvig was struggling to stand still. He needed to eat, sleep, and splash some water onto his face to wake himself up. His mind wandered to Stina, realising that it wasn’t all he needed. ‘When will we send the signal?’ Torvig asked, eager to take his mind off the Ullaberg woman. His need for her was growing. She was like a helpless animal.
It excited him.
Reinar blinked. ‘Soon. Don’t worry, I’ll do it soon.’ He walked away from Torvig, digging a deep frown between his eyebrows, wanting to know if he’d thought of everything. Doubting he had. His traitorous neighbours had been inside the fort as guests many times over the years. They had sat at his table, fought in his shield wall, even attended his wedding. And now they stood out there, proudly flanking the enemy of Ake Bluefinn, both of them betraying everything they had all fought so hard for.
Reinar’s anger festered as he paced up and down the wall, wishing Alys was there. He wanted to talk to her. See her. Know what she thought. It surprised him how easily her face came to him now, how quickly he felt distracted by her. Thinking about Alys cleared his mind for a moment, and he strode back to Torvig, feeling more decisive. ‘Send the signal. Do it now!’
And nodding, Torvig pulled his bow over his head, leaning forward to retrieve the long arrow he had set aside from all the others.
This ones fletching had been dyed red.
The chaos had not lessened, and Lief was just about to suggest they retreat and regroup, far out of range, when an arrow came shooting towards them. They were beyond the fire wall, and none of the men even flinched, but it was curious, that single arrow as it dug into the ground, mud sucking its tip into the frosty earth.
Lief frowned, eyes on the red fletching.
Ivan looked irritated as the arrow had interrupted his promising conversation with Hakon, who quickly became distracted again.
‘A single arrow? Red? What does that mean?’ Hakon turned to Ivan, demanding an answer.
‘It means that until we move into range, they can’t hit us, Cousin,’ Ivan said calmly. ‘Not with their arrows, at least. Though we should be prepared for more boulders.’
‘You think it’s wrong to make them use them all up?’ Hakon challenged, blinking rapidly.
‘Well, use them all up is one way to say it. Or killing our men, that’s another!’
Hakon glared at him, stepping forward, jutting out his bearded chin.
Lief intervened. ‘It’s a signal. A sign.’
‘To who?’ Hakon spun around, but Lief was already walking away from his lord, cutting a path through the wounded men, around the flames, past the boulders. He stopped, turning, eyes back on the fort, then up to the sky, which was free of arrows, but thick with clouds now. ‘I say we move back, lord!’ he called, hairs rising up his arms. ‘Out of range of their catapults at least.’
Hakon nodded, embarrassed that he had sown confusion, overriding his commanders. He had no idea what had gotten into him. It was as though he couldn’t control a single thought in his head, nor his legs or arms. Everything appeared to be working independently of him. ‘We move back!’ he called, embracing a moment of clarity, to the relieved sighs of Lief and Ivan, who wanted to get the injured to safety, and themselves out of the path of the killing boulders. Those servants who had healing skills waited just before the tree-line where tents had been erected to treat the wounded.
Ignoring Ivan, who stood in front of him, Hakon instead turned to Lief, looking at him to lead the way.
Which Lief quite naturally did.
And with his typical long stride, he encouraged the army to form behind him. ‘We move back!’ he bellowed, turning from side to side. ‘All fall back!’
Ivan fell in beside Hakon, looking for some sign that his cousin had truly calmed down. But Hakon didn’t acknowledge him at all. He started moving up behind Lief, leaving Ivan in his wake, confused.
Ivan bent down to help one of his warriors lift a wounded man off the ground. The young man had lost a leg, the bottom half of which was trapped under a boulder, and he appeared not to realise it. The shock made the man confused and angry, and he tried to get away from them, wanting to walk on his own. Arms flailing, he whacked Ivan in the mouth.
Ulrick was there, behind him, grabbing the wounded man. ‘Here, I’ll take him. You should get up there, talk to Hakon.’ He was concerned with what he’d seen from the young lord so far. Hakon had caused more trouble than a fox amongst the chickens, and now they were running away before the sun had reached its peak. He shook his head, knowing that Jesper Vettel would never have acted with such petulance. ‘A moment to think will do him good,’ he muttered to Ivan, who walked alongside him, arms constantly moving, encouraging his men to turn and follow him. ‘Might clear that fog in his head.’
Ivan hoped Ulrick was right, amazed at what a mess Hakon had made.
And then the first wave of arrows shot towards them from the forest. First the whistles, then the sickening thuds as they struck men in the muddled front ranks, piercing arms, chests, faces. And the surprise and shock of it sparked even more panic.
Ivan’s head went up, and then his shield.
He was shorter than many of the men in front of him, and he struggled to see what was happening; though he felt relieved not to be on his horse or he would have been an easy target.
Another wave of arrows, and now the men started turning, running back towards the fort, banging into those who were retreating.
‘No!’ Lief screamed, watching the chaos intensify. ‘Hold!’ The arrows were coming from the trees. From inside the forest. But where? Not at their c
amp, he hoped, his mind immediately with Falla. ‘Shields! Shields to the front! Shield Wall!’
Ivan was quickly beside him, shield overhead, Hakon on his right. ‘Archers!’ He turned, bellowing. ‘Aim for the trees! Fire at will!’ But before he’d even closed his mouth, more arrows shot from the forest, giving him a better sense of where they were coming from. ‘Watch your flanks!’ Ivan shouted, shield above his head, feeling an arrow smack into it, splitting the wood.
Screams. Flames bursting behind them, hot and angry. Wounded men, begging to be helped, left writhing on the field.
The stink of death rising up around them.
And smoke.
Lief spun, catching Hakon’s eye. Hakon was sniffing the air, turning back to the wall of fire, which still burned with hunger. But that smoke was blowing away, towards the fort.
‘It’s coming from the forest!’ Ivan cried. ‘The forest’s on fire!’
That shot a bolt of fear through Lief, who now couldn’t think about anything but his pregnant wife.
‘They wouldn’t burn the forest!’ Hakon sneered. ‘Their own forest?’
‘Well, likely they didn’t do it on purpose,’ Lief frowned, trying to see through the thickening smoke. ‘But we need to hurry back to camp! Quickly!’
Hakon nodded, following after him, Ivan behind them.
The smoke intensified, billowing towards them now, slowly engulfing them in great choking waves.
They couldn’t see.
They couldn’t breathe.
‘Keep going!’ Lief insisted, coughing. He had no thought of reaching the fort now. He needed to get through the smoke and find his wife.
Falla stood outside Mother’s tent, sniffing the air. ‘Something’s happening!’ she called, wishing the old woman would come out. She’d only had gossiping servants for company since the men had left, and none of them had any information or insight about what was happening at all. Falla felt blind and anxious, hearing voices in the trees. Sensing movement.
