Mark of the Hunter: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 2)

by A. E. Rayne

  But it had to be one of them. If only they could decide who.

  Magnus voted for himself. ‘There are only two men who’d recognise me, if they’re in there,’ he insisted. ‘And I’m small. I could hide. Disguise myself.’

  ‘With what?’ Jonas snorted. ‘A bedroll? A few leaves?’

  ‘We could cut off his hair,’ Vik said thoughtfully, studying the boy.

  ‘You’re not seriously considering sending Magnus in!’ Jonas leaned forward, glaring at Vik.

  Vik ignored him, returning his attention to his smallest knife which glinted in the flames. The day was darkening rapidly, promising another dump of snow, and they were grateful for the warmth of the fire. ‘He could buy a hat inside the fort. They always had a busy market in Slussfall. Or a new cloak with a hood. He certainly needs one.’ Magnus was rugged up beneath their bed furs, teeth chattering. ‘He’d be harder to spot than us.’

  Jonas sat back with a growl, knowing they were both right.

  ‘Besides, it’s easier for us to rescue Magnus if he gets in trouble, than him having to save our sorry arses!’

  That was a fair point, Jonas thought, and sighing, he stretched out his legs until his damp boots were almost touching the flames. ‘Alright. Alright. We’ll have to cut off your hair, Magnus. I’ll give you some coins, and you can buy yourself something warm to wear when you get inside. But you won’t be able to take Daisy. You’ll need to go in on foot.’

  Vik smiled at his friend, who was usually much more difficult to work around. ‘And we need to try and think of why a small boy wants to get into a big fort on his own. In case you’re stopped and asked.’ He peered at Magnus, sensing him freeze. ‘You any good at lying? Lying to save your own skin? That of your sister’s too?’

  Magnus nodded vigorously. ‘I can. I will.’

  Jonas swallowed. Magnus was a brave boy, with a fire burning in his belly. He reminded him of himself at that age: ten-years-old and ready to be a man.

  Sometimes...

  ‘Well then, let’s eat, and we can decide on a plan for tomorrow.’ Jonas looked over to where they’d erected Vik’s old striped tent, looking forward to resting his aching body. ‘Who feels like doing a little hunting?’

  Lief had brought a constantly moving Eddeth and an increasingly frozen Stina into Hakon’s shelter. The smell of his pustulating wound was overpowering.

  Eddeth sneezed.

  Stina held a hand up to her nose.

  ‘My lord has a... vicious wound.’

  Eddeth nodded, surprised by the shabby shelter, which looked as though it could be knocked over by a child. The lord himself appeared to be sleeping on a mound of furs, which was lucky for him, though he may as well have been sleeping outside. ‘I can smell it, that I can. But see it? I would need to be the Goddess of the Sun herself!’ She twisted around, eyes on Lief’s morose face. ‘More light would be useful. And water.’ Eddeth peered at the sloppy mess of bowls and bandages on the ground by the furs. ‘Fresh bandages too!’

  Lief nodded, motioning to Hakon’s steward, who slouched nervously by the end of his lord’s bed. He was a shy boy of seventeen, of average height and build, with short red hair, and a face covered in spots. He turned his eyes to the ground, as though he didn’t want to be seen. ‘This is Rikkard. He’ll find what you need. What is your name?’ Lief wondered, eyeing Eddeth with no interest in his voice.

  ‘I am Eddeth, that is Stina, and we shall care for your lord now, never fear!’ The wound smelled foul. It had gripped hold of Hakon Vettel, threatening his life, and Eddeth knew that if he were to die, his men would not look kindly upon them. She smiled broadly, ignoring Stina, who appeared ready to cry, though she could hardly blame her after what she’d been through lately.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, Eddeth, for we need our lord back on his feet quickly. As soon as he is able to travel, you will let me know. Send Rikkard for me. He will return shortly with your supplies.’ And nodding briefly at Stina, and mostly ignoring the strange Eddeth, Lief followed Hakon’s steward outside.

  Stina waited a few heartbeats before letting out a long, terrified breath. ‘Eddeth!’ she hissed, eyes on the bed where a pale-faced man lay beneath a heavy fur, brown hair pulled back from his face, a cloth draped over his forehead. He looked ghostly. Possibly dead. ‘What are we going to do? That’s Hakon Vettel! We can’t help him live, but we can’t let him die!’ Stina froze, afraid that she’d spoken too loudly, eyes jerking towards the tent flap.

  Eddeth smiled, rubbing her hands together, too excited by the challenge to feel fearful. ‘We will save him, Stina! I have all manner of herbs in my saddlebags, and we can forage for more besides. Honey too! We will save him, and they will set us free. Perhaps even reward us for our kind deed!’

  Stina looked at Eddeth as though she was mad, watching as she hopped away from her towards the bed, one hand on Hakon Vettel’s head, stooping over, muttering to herself.

  ‘Oh, yes, oh, yes, but we have work to do!’

  4

  Reinar paced up and down the low wall, running through the things they had to organise before they left for Slussfall – of which there were already far too many – when he saw a lone rider emerge from the forest.

  He watched the horse walk down the path towards the fort, remembering the pain of being hit in the shoulder; the surprise of hearing Ake’s horn, his hopes rising, knowing that the king was coming to save them all from certain death.

  He remembered laughing with Torvig.

  They had shared the low wall, keeping each other company on many a cold night, talking about women, the Vettels, the Sun Torc. Torvig had been his friend since they were boys, and the idea that he’d always been such a twisted bastard made Reinar feel ill.

  He didn’t know how he was going to tell Elin.

  The memory of the note Alys had left behind was on his mind as well.

  But he put all of it to one side, recognising the slumped figure riding the familiar horse, and leaving the wall behind, he hurried to the guard tower, heading down the stairs.

  Sigurd was off Tulia’s horse by the time Reinar made it into the courtyard, and he threw back his hood with a weary sigh. The horse looked sad, Reinar thought, though not as sad as his brother. He stopped, waiting, as Sigurd looked up at him, dropping the reins, tears falling, body curling forward.

  Reinar strode towards him, forgetting all about his injured shoulder as he took Sigurd in his arms. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He could feel his brother’s body heaving against his, pain and grief like a flood, washing over him, and he held on tightly. ‘So sorry.’

  ‘Your shoulder,’ Sigurd sniffed, pulling back, rubbing his eyes. ‘Your shoulder.’

  ‘It’s not going anywhere,’ Reinar smiled sadly. ‘Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s get Velos inside. Orm can rub him down. You’re frozen solid.’

  Sigurd shivered to prove that that was true, but he didn’t want to go to the hall. He didn’t want to face anyone yet. ‘I...’ Keeping his boots where they were, he resisted his brother’s efforts to lead him through the inner gates. ‘I might go to a barn. Somewhere else. Not the hall.’ The hall was where he’d lived with Tulia. Where they’d slept together, her ebony body curled up beside his.

  ‘You can go to Alys’ cottage. She’s... gone.’

  ‘What?’ Sigurd looked up in surprise, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. ‘Gone where?’

  Reinar ducked his head, Alys’ words still echoing inside it. Guilt made him embarrassed, unable to meet his brother’s eye. ‘To look for her children. She has two of them, ten and eight. A boy and a girl. Magnus and Lotta.’ He’d remembered everything Alys had said. Every word a wound.

  Sigurd blinked. ‘Children?’ He flinched, feeling a sharp pain in his leg; not caring. ‘She had children? On the beach? In Ullaberg?’

  Reinar nodded.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but she didn’t want my help, just her freedom.’ Reinar grabbed Velos’ reins, pulli
ng him towards the gates, pleased when Sigurd walked with them, his attention away from Tulia for a moment. ‘She took Eddeth with her, though. Eddeth and her friend, Stina.’

  ‘The one Torvig...’

  Reinar nodded.

  They walked silently through the gates, Sigurd ducking his head, avoiding the eyes of everyone he passed, not wanting sympathy. Tears came again, every step bringing up another memory. ‘We should have women fighting with us, don’t you think?’ he said, eyes up. ‘Tulia showed what they could do, so why not?’

  Reinar smiled. ‘Volunteering to train them, are you? Maybe we’ll get Agnette up on the wall!’

  Sigurd shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t be able to see over it.’ He grinned, and it felt odd. And then, glancing around, he frowned. ‘Where are the rest of the Ullaberg women?’

  ‘I had Holgar take them home. All but one. I sent a full crew with him, in case there’s any trouble. Gave them silver too. I didn’t want them waiting on me. There’s so much to do here.’

  ‘And Ake?’ Sigurd stopped, eyes on Valera’s Tree, remembering Alys crouched near it with Eddeth, drawing symbols. Seeing the wolves. The smoke and the screams. Amir.

  ‘He’ll be leaving in the morning, though he’s given us a lot to be getting on with, that’s for sure.’

  Sigurd could see the door to Alys’ cottage, more memories surging back. ‘I like the sound of that.’ And he did. The more there was to do, the less time there was to think about Tulia and all he wished he’d said to her. All he wished he’d done differently. ‘I hope it involves crushing the living shit out of Hakon Vettel.’

  ‘Oh, it does,’ Reinar promised. ‘It does.’

  Lief popped his head around the tent pole, smiling at Falla, who had one hand over her mouth, ready to vomit. ‘I came to check on the other woman,’ he said, unable to see her anywhere.

  ‘I sent her away. Someone needs to stop all that wailing, though she doesn’t look like much use to me. Where did you get her?’

  ‘Scouts found three women in the forest. One of them appears to be a real healer, so she might be able to save Hakon.’ He stepped into the shelter, reaching for his wife, who looked unsteady on her feet. ‘Here, sit down. You’ve been doing too much.’

  Falla sighed, flopping down onto the tree stump he pulled towards her. ‘I’m not a healer. I’m not a servant. This is not the life you promised me, Lief! A lady, you said. You would make me a lady! A queen! You and Mother both! And now, she’s gone, and we’re stuck in this forest. Burned and stinking. All that smoke!’ She was sobbing and angry. Her throat hurt, her breasts ached, the taste of sick was in her mouth, and she wanted to cry until it all went away. Lief was quickly by her side, and Falla grabbed his arm tightly. ‘Why do you care if Hakon dies?’ she hissed. ‘Why? Those men out there don’t care. They’ll follow anyone who wants to lead them. They’ll follow you, my love. You don’t need Hakon, you don’t need Ivan. You can lead!’

  Lief rushed a hand over her mouth, bringing his lips to her ear. ‘You mustn’t speak of such things, Falla. The gods are always listening. They will not reward me for trying to claim a throne meant for the Vettels. For letting my lord die of sickness. They will not reward a coward.’

  ‘No?’ Falla snorted. ‘You think all gods are like Thenor? Like Valera?’ Her eyes were sharp as she leaned back, considering him. ‘Those are not the gods Mother spoke to. Not the ones who helped her. Not every god wants men like Ake Bluefinn on the throne. Some want those prepared to do whatever it takes. Those who aren’t afraid to take what they want, by whatever means necessary.’

  Lief stared at his wife, surprised by her ambition. Though, after what had happened in Ottby, he’d begun to question what sort of king Hakon would make himself. He was a vengeful boy, who made reckless decisions with little thought for how they affected those around him.

  But to simply abandon him?

  ‘Alekka was broken because it was ruled by men who didn’t care for their people. I won’t pretend to care for Hakon personally, but I won’t leave him to die. Whatever gods Mother worshipped, they aren’t mine. And they shouldn’t be yours either, Falla. We will get where we want to be by doing things my way. The right way.’

  His voice was deep and reassuring, hard as stone.

  And despite her jumping nerves, exhaustion and terror, Falla didn’t mind it, and she leaned into his chest, encouraging his arms around her. ‘I don’t care about Hakon, or who is king, I just want to go home, and forget everything that’s happened. I want to see Borg, to all be together again. To be in our cottage! To have a roof and a bed!’

  Lief smiled, feeling the same, though he’d never admit it. ‘And you will, soon, I promise. Once the healers help Hakon, we’ll head back to Slussfall. Back home. It will be like it never even happened.’ He closed his eyes, wishing that were true, but the cries of his dying men still rang in his ears; the smell of smoke was still strong in his nostrils. And he knew that it would be a long time before he forgot what had happened in Ottby.

  Agnette and Bjarni’s daughter cried so loudly that no one could hear themselves think, which was saying something as the hall was ringing with loud voices and urgent conversations. They were making plans to repair the walls and the gates, and trying to decide on a strategy for the attack they would need to mount on Slussfall. But little Liara Sansgard was determined to be heard over all of them.

  Bjarni looked tired as he picked up his cup of ale, considering it with a yawn.

  ‘Sure you want to be here?’ Reinar wondered with a grin.

  ‘You think I want to be in there? I can assure you that my daughter is even louder in person!’ Bjarni took a long drink of ale, shoulders aching.

  Reinar laughed, trying to keep his smile going. It was hard, though. Liara’s crying was a constant reminder of the children he didn’t have. ‘I expect she’s always hungry, much like her father.’

  ‘That’s what Agnette keeps saying,’ Bjarni groaned. ‘She’s blaming me already!’

  Gerda bustled forward, forcing her way in between Bjarni and Reinar. ‘Do go and see that wife of yours, Bjarni. Must we listen to that baby all night long? I’m sure the king would like to enjoy his last night here, not have his ears ringing all the way back to Stornas!’ Gerda was on edge, uncomfortable with Ake’s presence. Once she would have enjoyed the occasion, but Ottby was a smoky wreck overflowing with problems and injuries, and she was struggling without Agnette’s help. Stellan had been Agnette’s to care for, and now he was just a lifeless lump in his wheelchair that she needed to worry about constantly. Every time she turned her head, he’d spilled his drink, or dropped food down his tunic, or his nose needed wiping. She was exhausted, running from one end of the hall to the other, frazzled and fed up. ‘Why don’t you go and look after the baby for a while? Send Agnette out for a break? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.’ And abruptly removing the cup from Bjarni’s hand, Gerda hurried him away before he could protest.

  Ludo took his place, worry in his eyes. ‘I saw Sigurd at Alys’ cottage.’

  It was strange, Reinar realised, that Salma’s cottage was now Alys’.

  He wondered whose it would be next, and whether another dreamer would arrive in Ottby. And though he couldn’t imagine replacing Alys, he worried what he’d do without one.

  ‘How was he?’

  ‘Tired, mostly. I brought him wood, some food and ale, though he looked ready for sleep.’

  ‘It might help. I think we could all do with some of that.’ Reinar glanced at Ake, who was slapping Bolli on the back, the two men playing a game of dice that appeared to be going Ake’s way. ‘It’s going to be a busy time when the king leaves.’

  Ludo nodded. He felt odd, worrying about Alys and Stina. About Eddeth too. ‘Do you think they’re alright? On their own?’

  ‘What? You mean Alys?’ Reinar turned back to him with a frown. ‘I hope so. I should have sent someone with them, but Alys just wanted to leave. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. It was a shock... what
happened. What she did. Tulia.’

  ‘It was,’ Ludo began delicately, ‘but perhaps not entirely. Torvig was a real arsehole.’ And ending much less delicately than he’d planned, he shrugged. ‘He was your brother-in-law, so it was hard to say anything.’

  ‘He was my friend too,’ Reinar admitted with regret. ‘And only mine. Still, at least he’s dead, or I would’ve had to kill him myself.’

  ‘Tulia always wanted to kill him,’ Ludo said sadly. ‘She should’ve been the one to end him. He was never nice to her.’

  ‘She would have, from what Alys said, if everything hadn’t gone against her. She didn’t have any luck in the end.’

  ‘No, well, I hope Alys has some on her journey. Stina too. I hope they find the children quickly. It’s too cold for anyone to be outside for long.’ Ludo poured himself a cup of ale, nearly dropping it as Liara erupted into a loud wail. ‘Think I might go and sleep in Alys’ cottage. I’m sure Sigurd wouldn’t mind if I slept on the floor!’

  Ivan found Alys gently dabbing one of Eddeth’s salves onto a man’s cheek. The man was one of his, young, and once popular with the women of Slussfall, but now, with extensive burns melting his face, he would be disfigured for life. Ivan felt sorry for him, doubting any woman would want to share his bed now.

  Alys spun around with a frown, almost blurting out a sharp rebuke, quickly grabbing hold of her tongue. ‘Did you need me?’ she asked, wanting to shoo Ivan away. There were many men with wounds that needed her attention, and the afternoon was darkening rapidly. She was sure to run out of light before she ran out of salve.

  ‘Your strange friend wants you.’

  ‘My strange friend? You mean Eddeth?’

  Ivan smiled. ‘Yes, Eddeth. A strange name for a strange woman, though it doesn’t matter how odd she is if she can save my cousin.’