by A. E. Rayne
‘Thankfully.’ Guilt nagged at Jonas, and he tried to turn away from it, but it lingered, memories flooding his mind like a stream. He saw Alys as a baby, his baby, for he had raised her from the moment Mirella had left her with him and Eida. She was six days old. They’d told Alys that she was six when she came to live with them, but she wasn’t six years, she was six days...
He thought of Mirella often, and his heart broke, wondering what he could have done differently, knowing the answer was many things. With Alys too.
And Eida.
All the women in his life. All of them dreamers.
Each one suffering so much heartbreak.
Guilt weighed him down, making it hard to breathe. Guilt and grief.
But there was still Alys. Still a chance he could save his granddaughter and make everything right.
He would tell her the truth. All of it. Before it was too late.
It couldn’t be too late...
41
Neither of them felt inclined to get out of bed, which was not like Lief, Falla thought. He seemed reluctant to begin the day, and listening to the thunderous downpour assaulting the roof of their cottage, she didn’t blame him.
Borg was giggling in the next room, entertained by his nursemaid, and her cook was busy preparing what smelled like smoked fish and flatbreads for breakfast, so Falla didn’t see the point of getting out of bed at all.
‘But we should,’ Lief yawned. He’d barely slept. Falla had talked to him at length as he’d tried to go to sleep, urging him to go against Hakon. She’d tried her best, insisting that the gods had turned their backs on the entire Vettel family, though Lief had held firm, knowing that without Ivan’s support he would struggle to mount a serious challenge to Hakon’s rule.
Falla sensed that he was about to get up, and eyelashes fluttering, she tugged his arm, pulling him back to her. ‘Why not stay a little longer?’
Lief was used to her feeling ill in the mornings, so Falla’s interest in his company was a pleasant surprise, and he felt his resolve crumble. But not entirely, and turning to her with a brief kiss on the cheek, he returned to his stretching, groaning morning routine.
Annoyed and surprised, Falla pursued him, wrapping one of the bed furs around her naked body, wriggling up to sit next to him. ‘You’re a good man,’ she purred, leaning her head on his arm. ‘And you may think you’re doing what’s right, but perhaps what is right has changed? You have your own child on the way. A wife. A stepson to think about. Keeping us safe is what you care about most, I know that, Lief. I see it in your eyes.’ She lifted a hand to his stern face, turning it to hers. ‘It’s what you want most of all. Not the Vettels, but me, Borg, this child.’ Falla slipped her other hand beneath the fur, resting it on her belly. ‘I don’t feel safe anymore. Karolina certainly doesn’t.’
‘What? From Hakon?’
‘You’ve seen him. Sweating and twitching, eyes darting round. He can’t hold your gaze for a moment. He is much changed. Can’t you see what’s happening to him?’
As much as he wanted to ignore the truth Falla was dragging into the light, Lief knew that Hakon was getting worse. ‘It’s been a difficult time.’
‘Because of him!’ Falla insisted. ‘Because of what he’s done. He took us to Ottby. He failed to take it. He displeased the gods. He’s the one who’s been cursed, and now, stuck here, imprisoned with him, we will suffer alongside him! Can’t you see that? Don’t you want to keep us safe?’
Lief felt under attack from Falla’s rising voice and her fluttering eyelashes. ‘Of course I want to keep you safe, but my oath...’ He reached for his trousers, splattered in mud, not wanting to wear them, but in the rush to leave Ottby’s forest, he’d left his clothes behind. Pulling them on, back aching, he tried to think. ‘What man can go against a king?’
‘He’s not a king!’ Falla sneered. ‘Just a boy who wants to be one! Why should he, though? Simply by being born? Does that make a man worthy of being a king? Birth?’
Lief stood, cold feet on the furs Falla had draped around their bedchamber floor. It felt so soft that he almost smiled as he reached for his swordbelt. ‘I think the gods choose the kings, Falla,’ he said solemnly. ‘So who am I to question their wisdom?’
Falla was growing impatient. ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that, for it appears that we have reached an impasse.’
Tying up his swordbelt, Lief turned back to her. ‘What?’
‘If you won’t fight to protect your own family, why should we stay? I’m a mother, and my first responsibility is to keep my children safe. That’s my oath. I won’t stay here while you do nothing to protect us. While you choose loyalty to a madman and a god over us. I will leave!’ And standing, throwing off the fur for effect, Falla strode towards the chair by the fire, grabbing her dress, letting Lief see her naked body. Hoping upon hope that something would pierce that impenetrable veil of stubbornness.
And staring at his wife’s milky body, with its growing bump, Lief sighed.
Alys woke with a sneeze, surprised by that.
Surprised too that there was no sign of Eddeth leaning over her. She rolled onto her side, staring at the fire, which burned brightly, listening to the rain hammering down. She could see the sky, bleak and grey, through the small gaps in the shuttered window.
‘I’ve had her removed. Taken to a cottage.’
Alys sat up quickly, pushing herself back against the wooden headboard, horrified to see Hakon sitting on a stool by the bed, watching her. ‘What are you d-doing here?’ she panted, breathless.
Hakon smiled. ‘I wanted to know what you’d seen in your dreams before they slipped away from you. Before you spoke to another soul.’ And leaving his stool behind, he came to sit on the bed, hand out, touching Alys’ arm.
Alys swallowed, seeing his eyes full of desire, much like his thoughts. ‘What about Eddeth? When will she return?’
‘She won’t. She’s a useful woman, but so distracting. And for what we have coming, I want you entirely free of distractions, Alys, my sweet dreamer.’
‘Then I should be alone!’ Alys insisted quickly. ‘I need to be alone, to think. To dream!’
‘Though you have just woken, and surely you don’t mind a little company? Just for a while.’ Hakon ran his hand up Alys’ arm, smiling.
Alys saw a glimpse of his mark in her mind, and she shivered. ‘I dreamed about the gods!’ It was the first thing that popped into her head, and it wasn’t true, but it immediately distracted Hakon, who pulled his hand away, eyes popping open.
‘What about them?’
‘They were talking about... who they wanted to be Alekka’s next king.’
Hakon didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.
Alys hurried on, weaving a story from flimsy threads, trying not to look as though she was making it all up. ‘They were arguing.’ She frowned, as though she was trying to recall more, edging further away from Hakon, who sat before her, mouth ajar. ‘Fighting! There were two sides. Thenor on one. His brother, Eskvir, on the other. They disagreed.’
‘About who should be king?’
Alys nodded. ‘Eskvir wanted to abandon your family altogether, but Thenor convinced him to... give you a chance to prove yourself. So Thenor sent The Hunter to mark you... as a test. If you rose up and conquered the Vilanders, saved Slussfall, and took Stornas, you would be saved, your family’s place in the gods’ hearts restored. If not they would kill you, end your line. They agreed that this coming battle would be decisive.’
Hakon was stunned, hanging on every word. ‘Decisive.’
‘A way to settle things once and for all.’
‘And Thenor did this to test me?’
Alys nodded, saliva flooding her mouth. One eye on the chamber door, she slipped out of bed. ‘Yes. He wanted you to prove to Eskvir and the other gods how worthy you are.’ She snatched her cloak from the bed, slipping it around her shoulders while Hakon was distracted. ‘There is a lot to do. I saw the Vilanders and their ships too. Th
ey will be here today.’
That was true, and Hakon turned to Alys with surprise in his eyes. ‘Today?’
‘Possibly tonight. The sky was dark when their ships entered the harbour.’
The rain was loud, and Hakon stood, walking around the bed, wanting to hear every word. ‘Today?’ He was in a daze, desire, fear, and anger surging through his body. He peered at Alys, seeing how tired she looked, but so beautiful. Her hair was a touselled mess, hanging over her enormous black cloak, and he took a step forward, one hand out. ‘Tell me something to help me. A way I can hurt Reinar Vilander. That’s what Mother was so good at, knowing how to twist the knife. That’s what I need now, Alys, a way to hurt him.’
Alys could sense the danger accelerating. He would rape her.
He would try to.
‘Reinar’s wife is with him!’ She blurted it out, not sure what she was doing.
Hakon frowned, confused by that. ‘You said she was missing. Lost to him.’
‘She returned to Ottby. She’s with him, on board his ship. I saw them together.’ That much was true; Alys had seen images of them lying in each other’s arms, sound asleep in Fury’s stern.
She closed her eyes, feeling uncomfortable.
And opening them, she saw that Hakon had turned away from her, aiming for the door.
‘What a gift you are, Alys,’ he grinned, feeling the burn of the mark, but seeing it with new eyes now. ‘A dreamer of such vision. Perhaps you don’t know magic as Mother did, but Thenor would not wish to see me hide behind a dreamer. There’s no glory in that.’
The rain was getting louder, and Alys held her breath, watching as Hakon gripped the door handle, willing him to leave.
‘I’ll send breakfast, but not Eddeth. I don’t want anything else entering your head now. Just me, and the dreams you will have for me. I’ll return after supper, and you can tell me what else you’ve seen.’ And thoughts of tearing Alys’ clothes off retreating now, he opened the door, slipping outside.
Alys shook all over, panting with relief.
But she was entirely alone, a prisoner, without even Eddeth to talk to.
So how were they going to help Reinar now?
The cottage had belonged to Hakon’s old dreamer, and it stunk.
Eddeth pulled the hide off the window, wedging open the door. She thought of her fragrant cottage with her temperamental cat, and she felt emotional, wondering if she would ever see them again.
‘It’s not much,’ Ivan said, one hand over his nose, not wanting to inhale. He wasn’t happy about taking Eddeth out of Alys’ chamber, sensing that his cousin had an ulterior motive for wanting her to be alone. ‘But at least you’ll be free. Free to come and go as you like.’
Eddeth eyed the door. ‘I’d rather have stayed with Alys. She needs me.’
Ivan swallowed.
‘Though I’m sure your cousin will be happy. Now he can do what he wants to her.’ Eddeth saw the discomfort in Ivan’s eyes, and she leaned on it hard. ‘Alys has certainly seen his intentions.’
‘She has?’
Eddeth nodded vigorously, turning back to the small kitchen area, running a finger over the multitude of jars stacked along one edge of the table. The odd item was familiar, but there were many things Eddeth had no idea about at all. She was intrigued and distracted, forgetting about Ivan entirely, knowing that she needed to come up with a new plan to get the gates open for Reinar, and quickly.
But without a dreamer?
‘Eddeth?’
She turned around to where Ivan lingered in the doorway, just out of the teeming rain. ‘Yes?’
‘Alys? You said she saw things about my cousin?’
‘Oh yes, I did! He wants to rape her, of course. Have her to himself, like a slave dreamer. Keep her locked up, dreaming for him, when he’s not raping her. The poor woman. After what she’s been through lately!’
Ivan looked down at his hands, fingernails almost black. He’d done little since they’d returned but sort out the mess of the fort, and prepare for the Vilanders’ attack. He’d barely had any time to think, though that was mostly by design. He sighed, needing to leave. ‘Can I get you anything else? ’
Eddeth felt sorry for him, which surprised her, but Ivan was nothing like his cousin.
If only Ivan could see that.
‘No! I shall give the place a scrub, get that horrible old hag’s smell out of it! Then I’ll get to work.’
‘She was a horrible old hag,’ Ivan agreed. ‘Nothing like Alys.’
‘No, well, Alys is young and inexperienced. If your cousin has his way, I’m sure it won’t be long till she turns into an evil old crone just like that dead dreamer!’ And pleased to see that she’d hammered home her point, Eddeth unpinned her cloak, glancing around the miserable cottage, wondering where to begin.
‘But how much longer should we wait?’ Ollo Narp had itchy feet. He stood outside the cave beside Vik, who was watching Jonas teach his great-grandson how to kill with a knife. He needed some ale, a woman, a bed; some certainty about the path he wanted to take next. So did his men.
‘Eddeth said she’d come. We have to give her a chance.’ Vik didn’t know Eddeth, or whether he could trust her, but she’d talked in a way that gave Vik confidence that Alys did.
Ollo sighed, wondering if he should just slip away, though his men had been eagerly talking about supporting the Vilanders to end the Vettels, having had enough of their time on the wrong side of things.
Even Ollo could see that it was the wrong side now.
But still, it was hard to just sit in the cave and wait. He farted, edging away from Vik, who called on Magnus to watch his back.
Magnus looked up, distracted, not seeing the man approaching from behind, and in the blink of an eye that man had Magnus down on the ground, knife knocked out of his hand. The wiry old man grinned at Magnus, helping him back to his feet.
‘You can’t allow yourself to become distracted,’ Jonas smiled. ‘You need to know what’s coming behind you as well as in front of you.’ Heavy rain fell in front of the cave like a curtain, and no one felt like going outside. Magnus was growing so bored that Jonas was trying new ways to keep him busy. And besides, the boy needed to know how to defend himself, how to kill if necessary. He’d started teaching Alys when she was younger than Magnus. He wondered if she still remembered. He wondered why she’d never tried to kill her husband.
Perhaps she had?
Life could be complicated, Jonas knew, stomach rumbling. Sometimes people tangled themselves in knots they didn’t think they could escape from. But there was always a way out, if you wanted to find one.
There was always a way out...
Reinar stood beside Bjarni and Holgar, not appreciating the weather.
‘Don’t think the gods want us to get to Slussfall!’ Holgar cried over the furious roar of wind and rain.
‘Well, possibly Ulfinnur doesn’t!’ Reinar agreed, eyes screwed up, rain running down his head, trickling down his back. He’d forgotten what it felt like to wear dry clothes. His were so stuck to his skin that he’d given up trying to peel them off. Shivering, his eyes drifted to Elin, who was talking to Stina under the sagging sailcloth. It was keeping off some of the rain, but enough of it was dripping through that all three women appeared to be shivering.
‘And what are we going to do about them when we get there?’ Holgar wondered, inclining his head to the women, unable to take his hands off the tiller. They were flying now, the sail as round as his belly after a three-day feast. He felt pleased, though they could have done without the freezing rain. Holgar shook his head, flinging drops of water over Bjarni and Reinar, who didn’t notice, soaked through as they were.
‘They’ll stay on the ship, out of the way,’ Reinar said. ‘I’ll leave someone to guard them.’
‘Even Ilene?’ Bjarni wondered.
Reinar shook his head. ‘No, Ilene should get a chance to prove herself. I’ll ask Nels to stay behind. He’s been unwell since we le
ft.’
‘Not sure why you brought him!’ Bjarni snorted. ‘The boy would’ve been more use back in Ottby, mucking out the stables.’
‘He’s not that bad!’
‘Never met a fight he couldn’t run away from, that one.’
‘He’s good with a sword,’ Reinar insisted.
‘He is! In the training ring. But put him anywhere he might get hurt for real, and he’ll find a reason not to fight. You know that.’
It was Nels Froder’s reputation, and Reinar knew that he would likely leap at the chance to stay behind and look after Elin and Stina, though he imagined he would have a fight from Elin. She’d already indicated as much.
Elin knew that Reinar was talking about her, likely fretting and worrying, wishing he hadn’t brought her along. ‘Can you use a weapon?’ she wondered, eyeing Stina, who was not enjoying being stuck under the sailcloth with the two women, both of them united in their obvious dislike of her.
‘A weapon?’ Stina shook her head, thinking of Ludo, who’d been unable to teach her how to use a bow or a spear. She wished she’d confided in him about Torvig. Or Alys. Anyone. Tulia would still be alive.
Stina swallowed, knowing that was true.
Tulia would still be alive.
Ilene laughed. ‘Stina couldn’t hurt someone with a weapon if you tied them down! I saw her when they were training us. She’s entirely useless.’
Stina sighed, staring out into the rain again. The men who hunkered down against the gunwales often looked their way with envy in their eyes, but Stina would have given anything to swap places with them. She didn’t want to be sitting next to a snarling Ilene and a sharp-tongued Elin.
‘Well, I suspect we’ll be forced to keep each other company,’ Elin decided, eyes on Reinar. ‘My husband won’t want us getting in his way.’
‘But not me,’ Ilene said gleefully, though her stomach was starting to gripe, nerves stirring. She smiled at Stina, who looked utterly miserable, wishing she was on Dagger with Ludo and Sigurd.
