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

by A. E. Rayne

  Alys could hear Eddeth nattering away behind her, and she felt concerned. It always made her feel concerned to leave Eddeth alone with anyone, but Hakon was getting more incensed beside her, and her attention was quickly back on him.

  ‘You don’t know? How is that possible?’

  ‘Your last dreamer was experienced,’ Alys said, seeing a vision of Mother standing behind her daughter with hatred in her eyes. ‘She knew how to be a dreamer. I’ve told you that I was never a dreamer, just a woman who tried to pretend she wasn’t. I can’t click my fingers and be changed. I wish I could.’

  ‘Do you, though, Alys?’ Hakon snapped, impatience and worry working away at him. ‘I’m not sure that’s true. I’m not sure you’re trying to help me at all!’

  ‘You made me a prisoner. What choice do I have?’

  ‘And if I let you go? Freed you?’

  ‘I would run away as fast as I could.’

  Hakon laughed, further irritated, gloves clenching around the reins. She was a beautiful woman, though, and his feelings of anger quickly twisted into an ache of desire. ‘Well, then I will have to keep you in my trap, won’t I?’ Hakon stared ahead, the sun bright before them, glaring into his eyes. ‘Until I get what I want.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘To be the King of Alekka, of course. To return my family to Stornas. And once I claim it, perhaps I will think of letting you go? Though, by then, you may not wish to go anywhere. Whatever village you came from could never compare to Stornas.’

  ‘No, but wealth and power don’t appeal to everyone.’

  Hakon looked surprised, doubting that was true.

  ‘Some people seek a simpler life. They seek freedom.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘Yes, I would like to be free again.’ Alys saw Reinar. She felt Reinar’s hand on her face, Reinar’s lips kissing hers. And swallowing, she tried to will the image of him away. She had to help his enemy. In order to free herself and save her children, she had to help Reinar’s enemy now.

  There was no other way.

  31

  Stina smiled wearily, pleased to think that after such a terrifying, bleak, hopeless time, she’d finally encountered some luck.

  She had come across a family travelling to Ottby.

  Ake’s scouts had sent messengers across the South, demanding that all men who could wield a weapon head for Ottby, for the Vilanders were leaving to attack Slussfall. And this family of farmers: a father, his three giant-sized sons and their tiny mother, were answering the call.

  Far from feeling anxious or worried, as Stina would have been, the farmer’s wife beamed with pride. She was ruddy-faced and full of energy, urging her menfolk on, never lagging behind. All four of them were on horses, and they rode quickly, with skill and speed, wanting to make it to Ottby in time.

  As did Stina.

  ‘Should be there in three days, I’d say. Maybe two if we push harder,’ the woman smiled at her. ‘And my husband does like to push hard. With three sons chasing you, who wouldn’t?’

  ‘Three days? And what if they’ve left? What if they’ve gone to Slussfall when we arrive?’ Stina had told them everything she could, and they were sympathetic to her plight, wanting to get her to Ottby quickly.

  ‘We must try for two days, Gerold!’ the woman called with a grin at Stina, wind tearing past her. ‘Snow’s holding off, the paths are clear. We should try for two!’

  Her husband nodded, head bent against the wind. ‘We can try, my dear. We can certainly try!’

  Stina felt her hopes lift, but still... who knew how long they had before the Vilanders left for Slussfall.

  Ulrick wanted to scream. They had made it down to the pier only to be told that there was no sign of half the crew, and certainly no sign of Asger, the helmsman.

  ‘Weather’s poor anyway,’ yawned one of the crew, digging into his ear with a dirty finger. ‘But those clouds will clear soon. Come back later.’

  ‘Later?’ Bergit stood beside Ulrick, two chests sitting on the pier at their feet, Lotta standing between them, yawning. ‘But we’re ready now!’

  The man lifted a woolly eyebrow, surprised by her shrill voice. He straightened up. ‘You’re welcome to board, lady, though who knows if we’ll even be at sea today.’ He turned to Ulrick. ‘You could always check in the tavern. Asger might still be there. He’s got a thing for the taverner’s wife, see. Every time we’re here, can’t get him away from her!’

  Ulrick sighed. ‘I will.’ It was freezing, and the man was right, fog hugged the harbour like a thick blanket, and he couldn’t even discern a hint of the headland in the distance. ‘We’ll go back to the fort. Bergit, you take Lotta to the cottage, warm up for a while. I’ll leave these chests here, friend. We’ll return shortly. Sooner than shortly if I can find Asger.’

  ‘I wish you luck!’ the man called, heading away from them, yawning uncontrollably, wishing he was one of the missing crew, still sound asleep.

  Bergit clucked angrily next to Ulrick as they walked back down the pier, heading for the long path that led around to the main gates. She didn’t want to leave at all, and now, after waking early to prepare for their journey, they had to hike back in the freezing fog.

  She was livid.

  Lotta could feel her tension bubbling beneath the surface, she could feel Ulrick’s irritation, but most of all, she could feel her own fears rising that they would be too late.

  Haegel scurried out of the fort looking for Vik, eyes jumping, long body twitching.

  Vik frowned, heading to the back of the line of traders, trying to blend in, though surely someone was going to wonder what he was up to with that idiot drawing attention to them again.

  ‘We’ve got problems,’ Haegel muttered urgently, voice low.

  ‘What sort of problems?’

  ‘Baldur Skoggi’s going to ruin everything. He’s going to kill them today!’

  ‘What? Jonas?’

  Haegel nodded. ‘Maybe the boy too. More besides!’

  ‘What?’ Vik’s heart stuttered, eyes up on the wall. ‘We have to do something. We have to get them out of there now!’

  The woman in front of them glanced around, eyeing the men suspiciously, and Vik pulled Haegel away, tension gripping his body.

  ‘Ollo doesn’t know what to do. Baldur has the approval of the lady. She’s given him permission. What can we do to stop him?’

  ‘But the Vettel boy won’t want his prize prisoner killed without him being there. Without making some sort of show. What’s the hurry?’

  ‘There’s trouble inside the fort. A lot of Hakon’s men don’t like that Jonas is there. They’re making noise, demanding his head. Baldur wants to shut them up, restore order. So he says. I think he just likes being popular. Now everyone’s yelling at him.’

  ‘Well, Hakon Vettel will surely be yelling at him when he finds out what he’s done.’

  ‘Mmmm, but by then Jonas and the boy will be dead, won’t they? We don’t have time to think about what to do. Baldur’s already in there sorting out the square. He wants to get all these people inside first. He wants an audience.’

  ‘Ollo has to do something. Now!’

  Haegel agreed. ‘But what?’

  Leonid was panicking, and though Jonas was working hard to keep him calm, the men around them were starting to stir now, making things worse. Leonid’s panic quickly unsettled Magnus, who began to cry.

  ‘We don’t know what they’re doing out there,’ Jonas tried. ‘Tidying up, maybe?’ His voice was calm, hoping to soothe his great-grandson.

  ‘They’re bringing out the block. You can see that!’ a man behind them grumbled.

  Magnus wanted to be brave, but there was only so much bravery in a ten-year-old boy, and the sight of that old block of wood being dragged out into the square was enough to have him sobbing, knees knocking together.

  ‘There’s no sign of Hakon Vettel!’ Jonas insisted, loud now, attempting to quell the rising terror. ‘Why would they kill a
nyone when their lord isn’t here?’

  ‘Never stopped Baldur Skoggi before,’ muttered one voice. ‘He’s a sick bastard!’

  Jonas pulled Magnus close, wanting to turn the boy away from the bars where he was watching the fort, eyes peeled open in terror.

  ‘Look, there’s Lotta! Lotta, help us! They’re going to kill us! Lotta, please! Please!’

  Lotta froze, eyes darting to the hole where she could see her brother’s petrified face. Tugging Ulrick’s hand, she pointed to where men were clearing a patch of ground, dragging a wooden block into place; a wooden block stained with dark blood. ‘What are they doing?’

  Ulrick could hear the boy begging and wailing, and it made him further irritated. ‘Getting ready to kill a few prisoners, I’d say.’

  ‘But my brother!’

  Bergit had stopped to talk to one of her friends, and they were alone. Ulrick bent down, finger to his lips. ‘There’s no need to let everyone know what we know.’

  ‘But they know already, don’t they? They heard Magnus when he saw me. My grandfather too. They’ve not tried to take me away, have they?’

  It was true, but Ulrick didn’t want to take the risk. ‘Well, nothing we can do about the boy. We can’t. Besides, we’re leaving, never to return. What does it matter if he’s dead?’

  Lotta stared at Ulrick with such horror in her eyes that he felt an unfamiliar twinge of guilt, as though his long lost conscience was stirring.

  ‘It matters to me,’ Lotta whispered, tears falling down frozen cheeks. ‘It matters to me, Ulrick.’

  Ulrick ran a hand over his beard, feeling annoyed. He wanted to make her happy, but it was none of his concern whether the boy lived or died, and by trying to save him, he would likely put Lotta in danger.

  But staring into those big, blue, tear-filled eyes, he sighed.

  Alys was gripped by terror as she rode in between Ivan and Hakon, suddenly wanting to be back with Eddeth. She looked over her shoulder, trying to catch Eddeth’s eye, but Eddeth appeared deep in conversation with Falla, which in itself was worrying.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Ivan wondered. ‘Have you seen something?’

  Alys didn’t know what to reveal, but panic made her bold. ‘I saw Slussfall.’

  Hakon’s ears pricked up, and drawing himself away from his brooding, he turned to her. ‘What did you see?’

  ‘Trouble. Unrest. Something’s going on.’

  ‘Are the Vilanders there? Are we under attack?’

  Alys swallowed, fear assaulting her, fighting for control of her body. ‘I don’t think so. There are crowds of people. Angry people. Fighting. I don’t know what’s happening.’

  ‘In Slussfall?’ Hakon thought of his son and Karolina, panic surging through his own body. ‘We must hurry, then.’ He turned around, eyeing his men. ‘Ivan, tell Lief to take charge. Grab twenty men on horses and let’s get ahead.’

  Alys nodded. ‘I want to come.’

  ‘You do?’ Hakon didn’t question why. He just had to get back to Slussfall as fast as he could.

  Ollo was wondering if he needed to try and save Jonas at all.

  It was the silver he wanted, and if Jonas was dead, then he could...

  But Jonas swore that he hadn’t told another soul where he’d buried it. Not even Vik. It was hard not to trust Jonas, whose reputation for honesty shone like a beacon. But that hoard must be buried close? Or was it?

  He chomped through a warm flatbread, standing before a brazier, brow furrowed, eyes on Ulrick Dyre, who was approaching with speed. ‘And what do you want?’ he grumbled. ‘You who caused all this trouble in the first place? Want to hand over the girl, do you? Have her killed with her brother and grandfather?’

  Ulrick tore the flatbread out of Ollo’s hand, pushing him away from the square, down the alley by the tavern, reminded of how he still needed to look for Asger. ‘What are you letting them get killed for? Today? Hakon won’t like it. You want to stay on the right side of our temperamental lord, you make it stop, Ollo Narp!’

  ‘Oh, the hard man has a heart,’ Ollo mocked, grinning, digging his thumbs into his swordbelt, not liking being shoved about like a slave. ‘Who knew?’

  Ulrick slammed him against the tavern wall, gnashing his teeth. ‘You’re the master of the square, as you’re so fond of telling everyone. And the master of the square should be deciding who gets killed in his square, and when, don’t you think? Or perhaps you have no power at all? Just a fancy title you made up yourself, hoping to attract a woman!’

  Ollo waited for Ulrick to stop spitting all over him. ‘Finished? You want to bark in my face anymore like the old dog you are?’ He was furious, bumping his chest into Ulrick’s. ‘I want to stop it too, you arse. That old man owes me silver. You think I want his head off?’ Ollo shook his own head. ‘I don’t, I promise you that, but Baldur? He’s fixed on it. And now the lady’s gone along with it. There’s nothing I can do.’

  Ulrick shrank back, realising that Ollo couldn’t help him, so leaving him simmering in the alley, he turned away, heading for the hall.

  Karolina was growing concerned by the shouting in the square. She had come out onto the steps, worried by the noise. Baldur had warned her that there was trouble, of course, and when he caught sight of the Lady of Slussfall, white fur wrapped around her shoulders, dark-blue dress whipping about in the wind, he left his men to finish their preparations and hurried to her side.

  ‘Perhaps it’s best if you don’t watch, my lady?’ he suggested. ‘Though, if you’d like to, I can organise some seating.’ He hated to pander, but he did like to be in favour, and pressing down his fur hat until it was firmly in place, Baldur smiled.

  Karolina didn’t like the man. He was ingratiating and heartless, but Hakon admired him greatly, so she didn’t feel able to go against him, as much as she wanted to. ‘The weather is closing in.’

  Baldur glanced up at the sky. ‘Fog seems to be easing, if you ask me. Those clouds are lighter now. I don’t see snow coming either. Might even see the sun soon!’

  Karolina sighed, shoulders tense, hearing her son wailing inside the hall. And attention drawn away from the noisy square, she turned her head.

  ‘My lady!’

  Spinning back around, Karolina smiled. She knew Ulrick Dyre, who was equally hard, but there had always been something charming about him. ‘I didn’t know you were back, Ulrick. I thought you’d be with my husband.’

  Ulrick ignored the discomfort that statement stirred, convincing himself that he’d made the right choice. And now, once he’d settled this little problem and dragged Asger down to the ship, he would be on his way to find a better lord. ‘You’re looking well, my lady. Your husband will be eager to get back to you.’

  Karolina tried not to shudder. ‘And do you know when he’ll return?’

  Ulrick glanced at Baldur, who eyed him sharply, wondering what he wanted. ‘Soon. I’ve heard he was defeated in Ottby, and is returning with haste. I expect you’ll see him within days.’ And smiling at Baldur, Ulrick leaned in close. ‘Best you don’t take off Jonas Bergstrom’s head. Not with Hakon in a foul mood. Imagine if he comes home to find you took his one chance to defeat an enemy away from him?’

  Despite his irritation at being told what to do by an old hack like Ulrick Dyre, Baldur looked worried.

  As did Karolina. ‘A defeat?’

  Ulrick nodded, sensing her unease, knowing the Vettels’ reputation for mistreating their wives. ‘But never fear, that husband of yours will be on the front foot again quickly. Stornas belongs to the Vettels. He’ll get you there soon.’

  Karolina barely heard a word. Her husband would return as a defeated man. It terrified her. ‘You will stop the execution, Baldur,’ she said sharply. ‘Ulrick is right, my husband deserves to have some satisfaction himself. Especially after his... unfortunate time.’

  Baldur gnashed his teeth together, though he was not stupid enough to risk the wrath of the lord he was so eager to please. ‘I will, of course, my
lady.’ He straightened up, eyes sweeping the fog-shrouded square, where crowds of angry men had gathered around the execution block, cups of ale in frozen hands. ‘Though many won’t be happy. There was a real change in the air this morning when I announced our plans.’ He looked concerned, pulling on his short grey beard.

  Ulrick slapped him on the back, eager to be gone. He could see Bergit in the distance, still talking to her friend, but there was no sign of Lotta. ‘Well, if anyone can calm an angry crowd, it’s you, Baldur,’ he grinned. ‘I wish you well, my lady. And don’t worry, your husband will not dwell long on his defeat. He’ll turn his attention to his next move. Any bad feelings won’t linger.’ His words were quickly spoken, though he felt bad for the lady, who was as nervous as a beaten dog. And bobbing his head, Ulrick turned away, cursing himself for his life-long weakness for females, young and old.

  Lotta could see him coming. She waited in the middle of the square, behind the crowd of mostly men who were loud, and though it was morning, they appeared drunk. She saw them pushing each other, most with grins on red faces. Some were angry, but many just looked excited. She felt sick, not understanding how anyone could be excited to watch someone die.

  Magnus called out to her repeatedly, his voice barely a murmur amongst the noise, but she turned to him, wanting to go to him, seeing Jonas almost pleading with her to come.

  But she couldn’t.

  She had to leave.

  ‘There you are!’ Ulrick looked relieved as he scooped up her hand. ‘We have to go. I sorted out your little problem. Found Asger tumbling out of the tavern too. He’ll be on his way to the ship any moment now, just needs to round up the rest of the crew. Let’s go tell Bergit.’

  Lotta tried to hold her ground, not wanting to be pulled away just yet. ‘But what happened? Those men are still there!’ She had to shout up to Ulrick just to be heard.

  Ulrick grinned, eyes on Baldur, who was approaching the execution block, hands out, trying to quell the crowd. ‘See that man there? He’s the bastard causing all this trouble, but I’ve had a word with the Lady of Slussfall herself.’ Ulrick felt pleased with himself, forgetting how happy he would’ve been to see Jonas Bergstrom lose his head. ‘He’s putting a stop to it, see?’