by A. E. Rayne
Vik was snoring, which wasn’t new, Jonas thought with a grumble, turning away from his noisy friend. The idea of the barn had sounded appealing to his weary mind, but in reality, it was freezing cold, and it stunk, and he thought of how many more comfortable alternatives there must have been.
Though it was better than the prison hole.
Eyes closed, Jonas felt relief loosen his tense muscles. Magnus was safe. Alys was safe. And now they just had to find a way north. Ollo had already given them the name of a man with a ship who regularly sailed from Orbo to Slussfall, having spotted him down on the pier. Jonas was grateful that Hakon Vettel had decided not to fire the ships. Grateful, and then, in a heartbeat, nearly asleep.
He saw Alys running towards him, and she was Lotta’s age, long blonde hair in braids, decorated with ribbons; many ribbons, he remembered, with a smile. She had always been his to care for, to protect, from the very first moment Mirella had placed that tiny bundle into his arms.
He sighed, seeing the freckles on her nose as she lifted up a tiny white kitten, big eyes blinking, aiming to twist him around her little finger.
He was never going to let her go again.
‘Magnus! Magnus!’
Alys was frantic. It was dark, and she didn’t know where he was.
‘He’s gone!’ Lotta was crying. ‘Where’s he gone?’ She had crawled into her parent’s bed after discovering that Magnus was missing.
She was five. Terrified.
Where was her brother?
Alys, eyes heavy with sleep, nightdress fluttering behind her, grabbed hold of Lotta’s hand, not wanting to lose her too, and together they ran out of the cottage, into the night. ‘Magnus!’ Alys held a soapstone lamp in her other hand, the flame guttering, though the moon was full and bright, and she quickly located the dark lump of her seven-year-old son, lying curled up in front of the outbuilding, sound asleep.
Lotta was cross. ‘He’s sleepwalking again!’ She looked up at her mother, whose face had relaxed.
‘Here, take the lamp, Lotta, hold it there.’ And bending down to Magnus, Alys tapped him gently on the shoulder. ‘Magnus, wake up, come on now, we need to get you back to bed.’ He didn’t move, so she pulled more firmly, trying to turn him over, but when she did, she saw that it wasn’t Magnus.
It was Arnon, and they were on the beach.
And there was no moon, just a stormy morning, and screaming women being rounded up like cattle in the distance, children running away, fleeing down the sand.
No Lotta anymore.
The arrow fluttered in Arnon’s chest, shot through the eye of the wolf tattoo.
There was no blood.
And Arnon opened his eyes, reaching out to grab her arm. ‘Hello, Alys.’
Alys’ own eyes popped open.
She was wet through, panting. Her dream rushed back to her, and she shivered, seeing the first signs of dawn creeping under the cottage door. There was nothing new about the nightmare. She had it regularly, each time as terrifying as the last. Eyes closing again, wanting some more sleep, she wondered if she would ever be free of Arnon, hating that he had a hold over her, dead or alive.
And then she froze, remembering the rest of the dream.
Eyes open again, she reached out a hand.
But there was no Magnus.
It hadn’t been hard to find them.
The voice had told him where to go.
The woman who came into his dreams had been so eager to help him. She had led him to Slussfall, where he’d slipped into the fort amidst all the chaos, hood low over his face, not wanting to be recognised.
The woman had been more than helpful.
She had shown him where to find a hoard of silver coins, buried in the forest, and with it, he’d commissioned a fisherman, who had a crew of six men looking to get back up north quickly, no friends of Ake Bluefinn or the Vilanders. They were Northerners, eager to be gone.
Arnon had paid them to stay on board, ready to leave at dawn’s first light.
She had told him that too.
Now all he needed was his wife.
Though she felt worried, Alys wasn’t surprised to find Magnus gone. He’d been sleepwalking since he was a little boy. Over the years, she’d often found him curled up with their livestock. Sometimes, he’d walked as far as Stina’s front porch; even into the hall during summer when the doors would remain open all night. Ullaberg was small, and after so many years, Magnus could easily walk the entire village with his eyes closed, but Slussfall?
Alys lifted her hood over her hair, feeling the rain, cold on her face. It was a stormy morning, and she shivered as she walked, thunder booming overhead. The fort was a mess with so many men littered around, sleeping, most without shelter, now getting wet. They barely stirred, though, worn out, drunk.
Alys had no idea where her grandfather and Vik had slept, Reinar or Sigurd either, but suddenly, getting a sense of Magnus, she turned towards the harbour gates.
Panicking now, feeling Magnus’ terror, she started running.
The gates were open, most of the bodies cleared away, and Alys slipped through them quickly, heading down to the piers, the strong smell of death in her nostrils.
Eyes jumping, fear gripping her heart, she saw Sigurd’s ship, and many more, but no one appeared to be on board. The Ottby men were mostly inside the hall. There were a few merchant ships, trading ships, and...
Alys froze.
She was having a dream.
A nightmare.
Arnon stood on a pier, smiling at her, hand over Magnus’ mouth, knife at his throat. ‘Come along then, Wife, we have a daughter to find, don’t we?’
She was having a dream.
Alys tried to wake up.
‘Did you think I would let you get away with killing my dreamer? My dear Mother?’ came the voice, and Alys spun around, seeing a dark-robed woman standing by the open gates, long white braid hanging down to her waist. ‘That I was going to let you defeat me and ruin my plans for Alekka, Alys de Sant? That you would simply kill the Vettels, my Vettels, and go back to Ottby with the Vilanders? With your precious Reinar?’ Alari laughed. ‘As my father said, this is a war, and I am the Goddess of Magic. And with magic...’ She clicked her fingers, pointing them at Arnon, ‘... anything is possible!’
Alys turned back to Arnon, who gripped Magnus like a man holding an enemy he was prepared to kill.
‘Well, what are you waiting for, Alys? I will take you either way, but if you come quietly, I promise not to kill our son.’
Alys could read his thoughts. They were violent, screaming and loud, and she knew that he meant it. She had no weapon. Nothing but her cloak. So, hands by her sides, heart heavy with dread, she started moving towards the pier. Magnus wanted to kill his father, she could feel it. He wanted to save her, but he couldn’t. And the only way she could see to save them both was to go with Arnon.
‘You’ll see,’ Arnon grinned as Alys approached, walking down the pier. ‘You’ll see, Alys. We’re going to have the most wonderful adventure. Our family, together again!’
THE END
Epilogue
‘I wasn’t aware that we were enemies, Mirella. When did that become so?’
Mirella stood by the window, watching the snow fall.
It fell like a blanket, so heavy and cold. She shivered, turning around, forcing a smile. ‘But we are not. I have never taken up against you, Alari. Why would you think that?’
‘You know what happened to Hakon? To Ivan?’
Mirella blinked slowly. ‘I saw, of course. It was a shame.’
‘A shame? But you mothered those boys! Mothered them, then abandoned them! Just as you abandoned Jesper.’ Alari was enraged, moving quickly across the flagstones, eye sparking with fury. ‘You had such promise once, such a desire to serve, and now where are you?’
‘You have come to me, Alari, so you know exactly where I am.’
Alari stopped, sensing more trouble than she’d anticipated. She cocke
d her head to one side. ‘Eskvir trusts you.’
‘Of course, we want the same thing, he and I. We all do.’
In two strides, Alari was breathing on her, skin crawling. ‘You are different. Different than I remember. Why is that?’ She looked Mirella over, though she appeared much the same as when she’d last seen her: shining blonde hair, delicate nose smattered with freckles, long, elegant neck. There were a few new lines now, a growing maturity about her, Alari saw, though nothing she wouldn’t have expected.
But those green eyes... they were almost lifeless.
Devoid of feeling.
‘I am happier,’ Mirella insisted, smiling with some enthusiasm now. ‘Being here, away from Jesper, it was the escape I needed. He was a cruel man, despite any love he may have had for me. Likely you’re just seeing me as I was meant to be. At peace. Here. Away from everything.’
‘You think Orvala is somewhere to hide? That you won’t be found?’
‘Oh no,’ Mirella murmured, listening to the fire crackling behind her. ‘I will be found, Alari. And soon.’
What to read next
If you haven’t read The Furyck Saga, now’s the perfect time to get started as some of the characters will make an appearance in The Lords of Alekka series…
Winter’s Fury (Book 1)
The Burning Sea (Book 2)
Night of the Shadow Moon (Book 3)
Hallow Wood (Book 4)
The Raven’s Warning (Book 5)
Vale of the Gods (Book 6)
The Furyck Saga: Books 1-3
Kings of Fate: A Furyck Saga Prequel Novella
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Some things about me, the author
I live in Auckland, New Zealand, with my husband, three kids and three dogs. When I’m not writing, you can find me editing, designing my book covers, and trying to fit in some sleep (though mostly I’m dreaming of what’s coming next!).
I have a deep love of history and all things Viking. Growing up with a Swedish grandmother, her heritage had a great influence on me, so my fantasy tales lean heavily on Viking lore and culture. And also winter. I love the cold!
I like to immerse myself in my stories, experiencing everything through my characters. I don’t write with a plan; I take cues from my characters, and follow where they naturally decide to go. I like different points of view because I see the story visually, with many dimensions, like a tv show or a movie. My job is to stand at the loom and weave the many coloured threads together into an exciting story.
I promise you characters that will quickly feel like friends, and villains that will make you wild, with plots that twist and turn to leave you wondering what’s coming around the corner. And, like me, hopefully, you’ll always end up a little surprised by how I weave everything together in the end!
Connect with me
[email protected]
http://aerayne.com/
Copyright © A.E. Rayne 2020
All artwork © A.E. Rayne 2020
A.E. Rayne asserts the moral right to be identified
as the author of this work.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places described in it are the work of the author’s imagination.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Amazon ASIN: B08KDCCFW1
For more information about A.E. Rayne
and her upcoming books visit:
www.aerayne.com
