by A. E. Rayne
Elin nodded, remembering what a terrible liar Agnette was, and squeezing her hand, she smiled. ‘Well, that’s good, then. I didn’t imagine it could be true. That’s not like Reinar, is it? He was always so loyal to me.’
Liara started whimpering, and Agnette stood, heading for the crib, eager to end the conversation, not noticing the hardened expression on Elin’s face as she watched her.
Sigurd was confused as he topped up Reinar’s ale. Leaving the jug on the table behind them, he turned around, catching a glimpse of Ilene Gislar, who stood amongst Berger’s men, ignoring their attention. She smiled sadly at him, and Sigurd stared at her, feeling a shared sense of loss. It was never easy to lose someone, whether you’d been with them for days or years. And sighing, he turned back to Reinar, asking his question again. ‘I thought Elin hated the sea?’
Reinar knew there would be more than a few raised eyebrows at Elin wanting to come along – his included – but she wanted to, and part of him felt happy about that. It had been a shock to see her again, but everything would feel right within days, he was certain. He would regret it if he left her behind knowing how much she wanted to come.
‘She doesn’t know how to use a weapon,’ Bjarni added. ‘What’s she going to do?’
‘We’re taking servants, aren’t we? They don’t know how to use weapons either. Elin will manage them. We’ve agreed. She’s going to help with any wounded as well. Likely you,’ Reinar winked at his brother, ‘knowing how slow you’ve become lately.’
Sigurd ignored him. He didn’t care either way. He just wanted to be gone.
Ludo felt just as impatient to leave the fort. It was hard to live under the constant threat of war, and while the Vettels remained in the wind, that threat would continue to grow. Though he felt concerned, remembering what Agnette had said. ‘But what if we miss them? If we sail up here,’ Ludo said, leaning over the map, pointing to the Eastern Shore. ‘To Slussfall. What if Hakon Vettel comes straight down on foot, over the mountains, back to Ottby?’
It was a risk.
Reinar tried not to let his fear of that happening show on his face.
Bjarni said what they were all thinking. ‘Without Alys, we have no one to see what’s coming.’
‘No,’ Reinar agreed quietly, eyes up, searching the back of the hall where Elin had gone. ‘But unless he’s got another dreamer locked away in his fort, nor has Hakon Vettel.’ He watched his mother combing Stellan’s hair. She looked up, meeting his eyes, and he saw her concern. But they were never going to be safe until they ended the Vettels. There was no choice.
They had to leave Ottby.
Alys had been disturbed since Hakon had fallen from his horse. The rest of the afternoon had passed without incident, though she kept listening, glancing around, worried that someone was out there.
Watching her.
Eddeth held out a hand, not looking around, and Alys handed her another bandage. ‘Best thing you can do is nothing!’ she declared crossly, wrapping the cloth around Hakon’s stomach. ‘Riding in the snow after being bedridden, with a wound like this?’ She muttered and mumbled, growing angrier by the moment. ‘And my maggots were doing such a fine job! Only a few days more and you would have skipped back to Slussfall, yes indeed!’ And tying the ends of the bandage into a knot, she stepped back to look her patient over. ‘Alys, can you go and see if the water’s ready? I’ve got my herbs waiting in that cup. Over there, on the tree stump. Take it outside and fill it up. That’s just what you need, my lord. A hot tea!’
Hakon was reminded of Mother’s tonic. It had helped him get right again after the smoke had threatened to ruin everything, and he turned to Eddeth, peering up at her. ‘You look like a dreamer, Eddeth. Perhaps you are, and you won’t reveal the truth? You seem to have a lot of knowledge about a lot of things.’
‘You must want a dreamer badly if you’re trying to make me into one!’ Eddeth snorted loudly, not answering the question. But sensing that Hakon was waiting for an answer, she sighed. ‘My grandmother was a dreamer. She spoke to the gods themselves! But not me. I always wanted to be one, but no dreams ever came my way, so I learned all about herbs instead. Which is just as well for you!’
Hakon lurched up. ‘The gods spoke to your grandmother? Which gods?’
Eddeth almost fell over, suddenly aware that she’d revealed too much. She glanced at the tent flap, knowing that Stina and Alys would be cross with her. ‘Well... that I don’t know. But all of the good ones, I imagine.’ She sneezed, feeling flustered. ‘Now, you stay there, and I’ll see where Alys is with that tea.’ She reached for Hakon’s tunic, lying on his bed of furs, though he grabbed her wrist, forcing her attention back to him.
Eddeth cried out, eyes bulging.
‘Which gods did she speak to, Eddeth? I’m not a fool. Not a boy. Not the half-dead wreck they all think I am. I don’t need a dreamer to hear and see all that’s happening around me. And what I know is that you’re not telling me everything!’ He kept squeezing her wrist until Eddeth bent towards him, face contorted in pain.
‘Valera!’ Eddeth blurted out. ‘Mostly Valera. Sometimes Vesti, I think. I don’t know!’ She was quickly hot all over, panicking, her mind oddly blank.
‘What’s happening?’ Alys was horrified as she hurried into the tent, having heard Eddeth’s shout. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Whatever I want!’ Hakon snarled. ‘Leave the tea there. Eddeth and I haven’t finished our conversation yet, have we?’ He glared at Alys until she turned to the table. And leaving the cup, she glanced over her shoulder at Eddeth before slipping out of the tent.
‘Are you alright?’ Ivan asked as she emerged into the campsite.
‘It’s your cousin. He’s hurting Eddeth! I don’t know why. She’s only trying to help him! Please, do something!’ Alys grabbed Ivan’s arm, imploring him to act.
And nodding, Ivan hurried into the tent.
‘We have to do something! But what?’ Jonas wanted to pull out his hair. The fur traders had taken to the tavern to spend some of their hard-earned coins, and though the thought of warmth and ale and something hot to eat had them both shaking with need, they couldn’t risk being seen up close, so they’d chosen to remain outside, in the snow. Eventually, they’d found their way to a barn, sharing it with a few noisy goats. It wasn’t going to be the most comfortable night, but they were grateful for the roof and the walls and the almost dry straw beneath their sodden boots.
Vik didn’t know. He rubbed his hands together, shuddering. ‘We need an informant. Someone to tell us what’s happening. Someone to help us.’
Jonas frowned. ‘And you think we’re going to find one of those around here? Someone who wants to help the likes of us?’
‘They’re not all Slussfall men.’
Jonas nodded. ‘But they’re all loyal to the Vettels now, aren’t they? Whoever remains?’
‘Maybe. But there’s always one who’s got a foot in both camps. The sort of man who’s happy to go where the silver leads. I think we both know who I’ve got in mind.’
‘It’s a good thing I brought so much silver with me!’
‘And why is that?’ Vik wondered, tugging off a wet boot, wanting to shake out a pebble that had been bothering him all day. ‘You’ve been doling out coins like it’s Solsta.’
Jonas laughed. ‘I dug up my hoard when I went back to Torborg. After what Alys said about the children being taken, about Magnus being sold as a slave, I thought I might have to pay for his release.’
‘Well, lucky for us you’re such a rich man!’
‘Ha! If I was a rich man, you think I’d be living in that old cottage with you?’
Vik shook his pebble into the straw. ‘I do. Yes, you would.’
‘You’re right about that,’ Jonas admitted, rummaging in his pouch for something to eat. He had a few furry nuts, but that was all. ‘I’m not a man who needs a hall.’
‘Not like Hakon Vettel. Though that boy seems to want a kingdom rather than just
a hall.’
‘He does. I only hope the Vilanders can stop him. After all we did, all Ake did, I’d hate to see a Vettel on the throne again in my lifetime. There’s just something wrong with that bloodline. Cursed by the gods it is.’
‘Or not,’ Vik said darkly. ‘Perhaps they’re favoured by those gods who wish us all harm? Those who don’t want to see a good man on the throne. A man who cares for his people.’
Jonas handed him a couple of nuts. ‘I made you supper! Don’t say I never do my share of the cooking.’
And taking the unappealing looking nuts, Vik popped them into his mouth. ‘Not quite a nice fillet of smoked trout.’
‘No, not quite,’ Jonas agreed, listening to the wind howling around the old barn, shaking the doors, disturbing the goats, who started mewling loudly.
Ivan yanked Eddeth away from Hakon, who looked ready to take a sword to them both. ‘Stop it! Hakon!’ And pushing Eddeth behind him, he shoved his cousin back down onto the stool. ‘What are you doing? Eddeth’s only trying to help you!’ He glanced at Hakon’s freshly wrapped belly, seeing the old bandages lying on the ground.
‘She knows more than she’s saying! I know she does!’ Hakon spluttered angrily, eyes on Eddeth. ‘Ask her!’
Ivan felt embarrassed. Hakon hadn’t been the same since their attack on Ottby. He worried that he was losing his mind. ‘What’s he talking about?’ he asked Eddeth.
She twitched nervously, edging towards the tent flap. ‘My grandmother was a dreamer. She spoke to the gods. There’s little I know beyond that! Little! I swear it on my life!’
Ivan spun back to his cousin. ‘Why are you worried about the gods all of a sudden?’
‘Because –’ Hakon didn’t want to say. ‘Go!’ he screamed at Eddeth. ‘Just go!’ And slumping over on the tree stump, he yelped, pointing a thumbless hand at Ivan. ‘You too! Get out!’
Ivan opened the tent flap for Eddeth to scamper through, turning back to Hakon. His cousin was disturbed in ways that were starting to worry him. ‘Hakon, what is it? Tell me.’ And grabbing another tree stump, he sat down. He was starving, impatient to get moving, but most of all, he needed to know what was wrong with his cousin.
Hakon turned his head, watching the rippling wall of the tent, thinking of his stone fortress. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He felt Ivan grip his arm.
‘You want to convince those men out there to fight for you? Then it matters, because they need to see you as their future king. They need to believe in you again!’ Ivan hissed. ‘So tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, Hakon. And something is. I know you.’
Hakon was watching the flames in the small circle of stones at their feet, beaten by the wind, fighting a furious battle that surely the wind would win eventually. Like Ottby. He should have won that battle. He’d fought his way into the fortress, armed men supporting him, overwhelming any defense the Vilanders could mount. Their walls were breached, their gates broken. They were outnumbered.
That was a battle a lucky man would have won.
Hakon couldn’t get comfortable. He wanted to straighten out his stomach, so he leaned to one side, irritated. ‘When I was ill, Alari came to me. She was angry with me for Ottby. For Mother.’ He grimaced, pain blazing across his belly. ‘Perhaps she’s abandoned me? Perhaps all the gods have?’
‘The gods? Why would you think that?’ Ivan had started to wonder the same thing himself, though it would hardly help his cousin recover if that thought took hold.
‘I feel it. Here.’ Hakon pointed to his belly. ‘Here! I feel cursed by ill-luck!’
‘And what should we do about that, then? Out here, in the middle of nowhere? Stuck in the freezing snow? Trapped!’ Ivan jumped to his feet, glaring down at his cousin, patience worn out.
Standing outside the tent, hand on the flap, ready to find out what was happening, Lief froze, listening.
Alys watched him out of the corner of her eye as she dragged Eddeth away to find Stina. Snow was falling, blown across the campsite by a determined wind, and she pulled her cloak tightly around her shivering body. ‘What happened? Why was Hakon yelling at you?’
Eddeth couldn’t speak. Her wrist hurt where Hakon had squeezed it, though she wasn’t bothered by a little pain. She was far more worried about what she might have revealed to cause them all problems. ‘He... oh dear... he wanted to know whether I was a dreamer. He thought I was, which, I don’t blame him for, of course! With my knowledge?’
‘Eddeth!’ Alys hissed. ‘Focus!’
‘Alright. Yes, alright.’ Eddeth blinked, attention drifting to the stew Stina was stirring, stomach rumbling. ‘I... might have told him about my grandmother.’
‘Your grandmother, the dreamer? The one who spoke to the gods?’
Eddeth nodded, nose twitching.
‘Oh.’
‘He wanted me to tell him about the gods. He was very insistent.’ She gripped her wrist, feeling the burn.
‘Why?’
Eddeth shrugged. ‘Perhaps he wants their help? I would if I were him. Poor wretch. After what he’s been through?’
Alys thought of the vatyr, listening to Eddeth’s belly rumble. ‘Go and eat,’ she smiled, though her body was tense, watching Lief standing outside Hakon’s tent, trying not to look as though he was doing the very thing he was so obviously doing.
Sensing that he was being watched, Lief ducked his head, deciding to go and check on Falla. He felt disturbed by what he’d heard. Unsettled. Like his father before him, he’d grown up believing that the Vettels were destined to be the rulers of Alekka, chosen by the gods themselves.
Lief had given Jesper Vettel his oath, and then his son.
But if the gods had abandoned the Vettels, what was he going to do now?
Reinar was sick of talking about the Vettels. Sick of thinking about them too. The day had been long and cold, but the fort was finally starting to look like its old self. A few familiar faces had returned, which had raised all their spirits. Word was spreading about Reinar’s luck changing. About Ake’s arrival. About the betrayal of their neighbours too. He nudged Bjarni, who looked half asleep beside him, ale cup tilting in his hand. ‘Not sure that’s going to end well.’
Bjarni muttered loudly, sitting up with a jerk. ‘What?’ He blinked at Reinar, following his gaze to where Sigurd and Ilene sat, heads together, both of them more than a little drunk.
‘Mmmm, but who could blame either of them?’
Reinar supposed that was true, and Sigurd did seem to like a strong woman. He smiled sadly, memories of Tulia haunting him again.
If only he’d seen the truth about Torvig earlier...
‘You couldn’t have done anything,’ Bjarni yawned, reading his mind. ‘Torvig was always a snake, but even I didn’t suspect what he was doing. Steffan told me he tried to rape his sister. Who knew that?’ Bjarni shook his head, incensed. ‘The bastard was going around threatening all these women. Raping them, hurting them, making them too afraid to say anything.’
Reinar was furious at the thought of it. If Alys hadn’t stopped Torvig, he would have raped her too. Likely killed her.
‘Reinar?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You didn’t answer.’
‘No, I think you’re right, but I never looked hard enough at Torvig. I befriended him because I wanted to spend time with Elin. Even back then. I thought if I could get her brother to like me, become friends with me, that she might talk to me.’
Bjarni smiled. ‘She did more than talk to you, so that worked!’ Reinar didn’t look happy, though, and glancing around, Bjarni edged closer. ‘Is it strange having her back? Knowing she ran away? That she left you?’
‘I... don’t know what’s real. Agnette thought she was done with me, but now she’s here again. I want her to be, I do. I missed her, but...’ His voice drifted into silence, and he stared at his cup of ale.
‘You mean Alys?’
Reinar’s head snapped up. He glared at Bjarni, who was
well used to his friend’s temper.
‘We’re not blind, Reinar, especially not me. I saw how it was.’
‘It was nothing.’ And barely acknowledging Bjarni, Reinar stood, deciding it was time for bed. ‘Goodnight, Brother!’ he called to Sigurd, who didn’t even look his way. Shaking his head, he turned it towards Bjarni. ‘It was nothing. Elin’s back where she belongs and only now matters. Elin and I are meant to be, you know that.’
Bjarni nodded, sensing how hard Reinar was working to convince them both, and he sought to help him. ‘Of course I do. Sleep well, Reinar. Hopefully, my daughter will behave herself tonight!’
Reinar smiled now, relaxing slightly. ‘I hope so, or Gerda might throw you all out. Make you sleep with the goats!’ He clapped Bjarni on the shoulder, yawning as he headed away to the bedchambers, his smile gone in a heartbeat.
Magnus was miserable, staring out at the square, bathed in moonglow and shadows. He saw cats chasing each other, an old drunk stumbling about singing, a crippled man crawling around, searching for food. But he didn’t see his great-grandfather and Vik.
‘Maybe they left,’ Leonid said mournfully. ‘It would make sense, wouldn’t it?’
‘No, it wouldn’t,’ Magnus disagreed. ‘Vik saw me. They would have stayed behind, trying to find a way to get us out of here.’
Leonid’s mood rose and fell quickly. ‘But how could they? How? Look at that door! Look at this place! One way in, one way out. And those men guarding the door look ready for war!’
