by A. E. Rayne
‘Jaeger?’ Karsten spat, grabbing the water bag Berard was holding. ‘Jaeger’s mine.’ He glared at Jael, wiping a hand over his dripping blonde beard, daring her to disagree. ‘And only mine.’
Jael shrugged. ‘I’ve a feeling there’ll be plenty to go around when we get to Hest, so help yourself.’ She shook her head, ignoring the water bag Karsten was offering her. ‘I’m going to check on Ivaar, then, Thorgils, we need to go and find Beorn. I want to test out those catapults. Make sure they’re going to get up a hill, otherwise what’s the point in taking them to a place like Hest?’
‘Jael!’
Jael spun around feeling her aching body tense at the sight of a puffing Biddy pushing her way through to the railings. ‘What?’ She hurried out of the training ring, her throat tightening. ‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s Gisila,’ Biddy panted. ‘You need to come!’
Meena tied up her boot with shaking hands.
They had been shaking since the night when Dragmall had rescued Morana. Since they had escaped from the city with Else.
Jaeger had left too. Gone to attack Helsabor with Eadmund Skalleson.
Having discovered that Morana had fled, and knowing how Draguta would feel about that, Jaeger had been reluctant to leave Meena behind. In the end, though, he had simply kissed her and suggested she keep out of Draguta’s way. Hide in the chamber until he returned.
Which she had.
She had only left it to sneak down into the kitchen for a few leftover scraps, and though she had no appetite, and there was likely no point in feeding herself now, she did, trying not to let her mind wander to Berard, knowing that he was not safe, as much as she was not safe. Draguta could, and would simply reach into any chamber, in any fort, and hurt anyone she liked, however she liked. They were all figures on Draguta’s map table now, waiting to be lifted up and moved around.
Or thrown away when they were no longer needed.
Meena swallowed, knowing how much Draguta had enjoyed torturing Morana by leaving her a prisoner inside her own body. Perhaps she wasn’t going to try and kill her at all? Perhaps she had something even worse planned?
The sudden banging on the door had Meena scrambling off the bed in a shaking mess of red hair and chattering teeth. She squeezed her hands together, unable to speak.
The banging continued, and, eventually, Meena shuffled and shook towards the door, unlocking it slowly, dragging it open.
To Brill.
Meena blinked, trying to read something in the servant’s dull eyes.
‘My mistress wishes to see you in the hall,’ Brill said, struggling to even lift her head to look at Meena. ‘Now.’
Jael hurried into the chamber past Entorp, who was unpacking his satchel onto a small table, releasing all manner of strange odours as he uncorked his jars of salve. ‘Mother?’ Axl was on one side of the bed, dark rings under his eyes as he glanced up at his sister.
Edela and Eydis were there too.
‘Mother?’ Jael dropped to her knees, gripping Gisila’s hand as her mother opened her eyes.
‘Aarrghh!’ Gisila cried, writhing in agony.
‘Ssshhh, now,’ Edela soothed, moving behind Jael to reach Gisila’s head. ‘Entorp is coming with that salve. It will help, I promise. And Derwa is off in the kitchen getting something for the pain. Don’t worry. Try to stay calm.’
Jael looked up at her grandmother as Gisila closed her eyes, clenching her jaw. ‘Has someone gone for Gant?’
Edela nodded, smoothing her hand over Gisila’s furrowed brow, humming low in her throat. ‘Ssshhh, now.’
Gisila loosened her grip on Jael’s hand, her body relaxing in the bed. She opened her eyes, blinking at the brightness of the candlelit room. ‘Amma? What happened? Runa...’ Her voice was faint, just a breath, and her body was quickly taut, twisting in pain again.
Axl swallowed, his eyes on his sister. ‘Amma’s gone. Eadmund’s son and his wet nurse too. Runa’s dead.’ His voice was flat, for although Axl was relieved that his mother had come back to them, his heart was aching for Amma. He was struggling to stay still, to remain in Andala while they prepared for their departure. While they trained and readied their weapons and made their plans.
He wanted to leave. Now.
Gisila gasped as Entorp placed his hands on her stomach.
‘I’ve tried to warm them up, but I’m afraid they’re always a bit cold,’ Entorp said bashfully. ‘Perhaps you should do it, Edela?’
Edela shook her head. ‘I think it’s best if I stay up here. Gisila won’t mind, will you?’ she smiled. ‘After all, she’s had a lifetime of my cold hands.’
‘Amma should be in Hest soon.’ Jael said, watching her mother squirm as Entorp applied the salve around her stomach wound, surprised that the smell of it didn’t affect her anymore. She blinked, not wanting her mind to wander back to the time when it had. ‘Edela’s convinced that they won’t hurt her.’
Their grandmother’s confidence in that had gnawed away at Axl for days. ‘Why? Why won’t they hurt her? Jaeger killed his first wife, so why are you so confident, Grandmother?’ He distractedly patted his mother’s hand as the pleasant aromas of yarrow and goldenrod permeated the room. ‘Why?’
Edela sighed, sensing Eydis twitch on her stool near the end of the bed. There really was no choice but to tell him now. ‘Amma is pregnant. I suspect Draguta took her for that very reason.’
Axl’s mouth remained open, his weary mind struggling to comprehend her meaning.
Despite being just as tired, Jael was quicker. ‘Because it’s Jaeger’s baby?’ she guessed, her eyes on her brother.
‘I suspect it might be,’ Edela mumbled, watching Axl’s jaw working away.
No one knew what to say about that, so they remained silent, confusing Gant who had just walked in. ‘What is it?’ he panicked, looking from Axl who was frowning, to Edela who appeared troubled, to Gisila whose eyes were still closed. ‘Gisila?’
Gisila opened her eyes, turning towards his voice, groaning again as the pain bit. ‘Gant.’
He hurried to the bed, barely noticing that Jael was there as she hopped out of the way. ‘Gisila.’ Kneeling on the floor, he took her hand, surprising no one. Over the past few days, they’d all seen just how much Gant cared for Gisila, but what they hadn’t seen was how Gisila felt about Gant. But now, with tears running down her cheeks as he bent over her, kissing her forehead, now, there was no longer any question.
Everyone stared at them, except for Eydis, who sat perfectly still, listening.
‘Where have you been?’ Gisila whispered. ‘I thought you’d be here.’ Closing her eyes, she smiled through the pain. ‘I told you not to go anywhere, remember?’
Gant smiled back, tears in his eyes. ‘I remember. And I won’t. Not again, I promise.’
Jael frowned, but Gant was too busy watching Gisila to see.
Axl was too busy glowering at his grandmother to notice.
But Edela’s eyes were on Jael, knowing precisely what that meant.
‘If we approach through there, we’ll get too many killed before Draguta has a chance to do anything.’ Eadmund was growing impatient with Jaeger’s inability to think; to care enough about his men to want to protect them. He thought in bursts of anger and impulse with little regard for carrying a thought through to its conclusion.
Thinking like that would get them all killed.
‘I’m not here to listen to your opinions!’ Jaeger barked, his voice hoarse. He’d been feeling increasingly unwell since they’d left Hest. Three days on horseback in teeming rain, terrorised by a sharp westerly wind had left him chilled to the bone, and he felt irritable that Eadmund was talking to him so far away from the fire. His body was hot and cold, shivering and sweating interchangeably.
But he wasn’t about to let Eadmund Skalleson know it.
‘Draguta sent both of us to claim Helsabor. I don’t think she imagined all the plans would be yours,’ Jaeger growled.
Eadmund
shrugged. ‘It’s no loss to me whether you die in Angard, but Draguta... she wants you on the dragon throne. Her heir. Have some plans, as many as you want, but if they’re not good enough, you’ll be a king without any men. Maybe not a king at all. Briggit Halvardar and her Followers might kill you before you’ve even drawn a sword.’
Jaeger jammed his teeth together, annoyed. Annoyed because Eadmund was right. Dreamers were trouble, and Briggit would be watching them.
Waiting for them.
‘Draguta wants us to succeed. She won’t sit on the sidelines. She’ll be there, helping us. She wants Briggit and Helsabor,’ Jaeger grumbled throatily, eyes narrowed against a rare burst of sunshine, though he could see that the moody sky would not allow it to linger for long. He took the cup of wine his servant offered him, suddenly wistful for Meena. ‘You think Briggit can hurt us when Draguta has the Book of Darkness? Ha! It’s a wonder she puts so much faith in you when you have none in her.’
Eadmund stepped forward, studying Jaeger’s angular face. He could see the gleam of sweat shining on skin that looked unusually pallid; the amber eyes that were oddly red, blinking, tired-looking; the strained sound of Jaeger’s voice. ‘I know that not everyone can be stopped by that book. Look at what Jael did. What she continues to do. What her grandmother and my sister can do with their own book. How they can stop Draguta.’ Eadmund shivered suddenly, certain that Draguta was listening. ‘If you want to return to Hest, to your castle and your throne, you’d better be prepared to use your own head. I’m sure you’re used to your father or your brothers saving you from yourself, but now there’s only you, and I wouldn’t be confident that anyone will come and save your sorry arse this time. I certainly won’t.’
Jaeger’s anger exploded like a jar of sea-fire, but he bit down on it, feeling the wine swirling around his aching throat, knowing that his men were watching and that Draguta would be at her seeing circle, interested to see how nicely they were playing together. He smiled, though his eyes were sharp. ‘Seems to me that if anyone needs to worry about what Jael Furyck can do, it’s you. You being the one Draguta wants to kill her. So shut your fucking mouth about me.’ And striding towards his horse, Jaeger decided that they’d done enough talking.
It was time to get their men to Angard.
Jael sat on her mother’s bed, thinking about Eadmund. She could almost feel his tension building like a wave in a storm-whipped sea, and she felt troubled by what that might mean. Thinking about Eadmund led to thoughts of Sigmund, and then Runa. Fyn. Bram too.
‘Jael?’
She blinked, coming back into the room. Edela was talking to her, Biddy and Eydis hovering nearby as she sat on the bed. Everyone else had left, and Jael knew that she should go too. Gisila had closed her eyes, and there was so much to do in the fort. ‘What did you say?’
‘I was asking about your dream. Axl said you were screaming last night.’
Jael’s eyes darted to the right where Ido and Vella were licking up remnants of the broth Biddy had spilled on the floor. Ido was limping and whimpering, but not prepared to miss out on any of his sister’s fun. Jael relaxed her face before turning back to her grandmother. ‘No idea. Just a flood of images, voices, words. Like being in a blizzard.’ She saw Eydis frown. Edela too.
Dreamers, she knew, could read minds, so why was she lying to them?
Neither of them said anything, though, and Biddy was too busy fussing around Gisila to notice.
‘Have you seen Fyn today?’ Jael asked, changing the subject.
Eydis’ neck lengthened, her spine straightening, suddenly more alert. ‘No. No one has seen much of him since Runa’s pyre.’
‘Not even Bram?’ Biddy wondered. ‘I should have gone to see how he is. Taken him a stew. Poor man. Will you two stop licking the floor. Shoo now! Get outside!’
Ido and Vella scampered and limped past Jael as she turned to Biddy. ‘Bram’s keeping busy. Thorgils has an eye on him, but I’ll need to go and find Fyn. He’s avoiding me too.’ She stood, grimacing as she put her weight down on her right ankle, surprised to discover that she must have twisted it fighting Karsten.
‘Jael, wait.’ Edela struggled to her feet, stiff after days of sitting by Gisila’s bed. ‘I’ll walk with you.’ And she creaked around the bed towards her granddaughter who ushered her through the door with a look back to Gisila, who appeared to be sleeping comfortably now.
The hall was humming with activity, preparations for the army’s departure intensifying with each passing day. Since the night of the barsk attack, the need to make themselves safe had been at the forefront of Jael’s mind, but they were never going to be truly safe until she took the army to Hest to defeat Draguta.
‘I had a dream about Eadmund last night,’ Edela said, her voice low as she slipped her arm through Jael’s.
Jael wanted to stop, but she didn’t. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she could sense how many people had questions they needed answered, including Axl who was trying to extract himself from a conversation with Bayla Dragos. ‘What about?’ Her heart beat faster.
‘He is preparing to attack Helsabor.’
‘What?’ Now Jael did stop. She pulled her grandmother close, out of the way of Branwyn who was trying to shoo a chicken outside. ‘What do you mean? Eadmund? On his own?’
Edela stared into Jael’s tired eyes. ‘With Jaeger Dragos. With the Hestian army.’
Jael stood back, frowning. ‘Helsabor?’
‘Eadmund does Draguta’s bidding. He will only be there because of her.’
‘So Draguta wants Briggit Halvardar?’
‘She must. And all those Followers too. They will have heard about what happened in Hest. What Draguta did to the Followers there. They will not be friends or allies. She will seek to defeat them, I imagine. To remove another threat. And the Helsaborans under Briggit are a powerful threat indeed.’
Jael felt strange. Draguta attacking Helsabor was a gift she had not anticipated, though the idea that they might face one enemy instead of two was encouraging. ‘But why now? Why would she send them there instead of here?’
‘Why?’ Edela shrugged, her eyes on the doors as Fyn made his way inside, head low, hoping to avoid everyone as he quickly found some food. ‘Perhaps Ayla may have some thoughts? She saw inside Briggit’s head many times while she was ill with that sickness. Why don’t you speak to Fyn and I’ll go and find Ayla.’
Jael nodded, a sad smile on her face as she watched Fyn scrambling to fill a plate with flatbreads and cheese, his floppy auburn hair hiding his face. ‘Alright, but come and find me. I’d like to know why Draguta wants Briggit so badly.’
Edela’s thoughts had quickly turned to Ayla and whether she was speaking to Bruno, and she only mumbled in response as she hurried to the doors, almost tripping over the puppies who were busy tangling themselves around her legs, trying to lick her broth-covered boots.
Jael turned away, taking a deep breath as she headed towards Fyn.
Amma couldn’t stop hearing the sound of the sword as it punctured Runa’s chest. It was a noise so sickening, so terrifying, that she had frozen with terror, convinced that she would be next, so it had almost been a relief when she’d realised that the men wanted to take her too.
To Hest.
That’s all they’d said when they pulled her out of the fort, filthy hands over her mouth, dragging her towards their ship.
To Hest, where Jaeger Dragos would be waiting.
Amma glanced at Sigmund, who lay asleep in Tanja’s arms. The sea was calm at long last, and if she hadn’t been so terrified, she might have felt hungry. But one look at Tanja’s tear-stained face reminded her that she had every reason to feel terrified, and none at all to feel safe.
The crew had thrown a few furs at them, a couple of water bags, some food, and then ignored them. Most of them didn’t appear threatening, and Amma didn’t feel fearful of what they would do to them. She knew that they would be under orders not to hurt her.
She hoped
they would be.
Sigmund too.
And they needed Tanja. They had obviously realised who she was when they snatched her out of her sweetheart’s arms, running a sword through his chest as he tried to protect her, just as they had Runa’s.
And Gisila.
Amma’s face was numb from the biting wind, but she could feel the tears as they slid down her cold cheeks, dripping onto the nightdress covering her knees.
Was Gisila even alive?
Was Axl?
Amma remembered the blood; Gisila lying in the corridor so still, the axe she had tried to fend the men off with tossed away. Turning to Tanja, she held out her hands. ‘I’ll take him,’ she said quietly. ‘You need some sleep.’
Tanja barely blinked, but she tucked Sigmund’s swaddling cloth more tightly around him, and the fur around that, before handing him to Amma. She leaned against the high back of the stern, closing her eyes, blinking them open as the ship hit a wave with a smack.
Amma peered down at the sleeping baby, trying to see if he looked like Eadmund, but she couldn’t. Her mind wandered to who her own child would look like.
Wondering whose child it was.
2
Fyn didn’t want to feel sad. He didn’t want to grieve. He didn’t want to feel anything. But his mother was dead, and the loss of her was inescapable. It covered him like a snow cloud; the pain a constant ache in his chest. He couldn’t stop seeing her: the look in her eyes, her face strained with shock, her body soaked in blood. It was all he could think about.
Jael was talking to him.
He wished he hadn’t come back to the hall. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, but Fyn knew that he couldn’t let Jael down. In those brief moments he managed to escape the heavy weight of grief, he knew that he didn’t want to let her down.
Seeing that Fyn was struggling to talk, Jael had taken him to the stables, and they’d saddled Tig and Alf, who had been her cousin Aron’s horse, and they’d disappeared into the forest together. The smell of pyres had followed them. Pyres and sea-fire and dragur and burning barsk. It shrouded Andala like a funeral cloth, irritating their throats, stinging their eyes.
