by A. E. Rayne
Amma turned as Meena raced outside, shutting the door behind her, her shoulders drooping, tears streaming down her face.
Jael’s eyes were everywhere as she walked Ayla through the fort. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to sit. Nowhere to be alone. All the benches and tables had been removed from the square as the catapults were brought in for everyone to carve symbols onto. Jael wanted to believe that those symbols could work, but the voice in her head laughed at her.
She saw Axl, working with Aedan and he nodded, dark rings under his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping, she could tell. Worrying about Amma, she knew. But what could they do about Amma except hope?
And wait.
Jael shook her head, listening as Ayla told her more about her dreams.
‘Briggit believes that she’ll defeat Draguta. She welcomes her attack. She is confident and prepared. Happy.’
‘Well, she’d be the only one. Though, if she can defeat Draguta or Draguta can defeat her, that would make our job easier.’ Jael tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t budge. Ivaar had not given up easily that morning, and she’d ended up with a kick in the mouth that had swollen her lips.
Ayla didn’t look convinced. ‘Together or apart, each one of them is still a grave threat. And neither of them will release the book, whoever becomes its mistress.’
‘No, it won’t be easy, which is why I need you, Ayla.’
Ayla stopped, surprised. ‘Me?’
‘I want you to come with me. To Hest.’ Jael watched Ayla’s eyes widen with fear. ‘I need you to help us. There’s no guarantee that Edela can do anything from here. Hopefully, she’ll be able to protect the fort, but as for helping us... perhaps it’s too much to ask of her? And I need to focus on my men. On leading us into battle. I can’t be a dreamer when we get to Hest.’
Ayla felt her body tense. She saw fire. Darkness. She felt terror.
And her throat tightened.
Then she saw Bruno hobbling towards her, and she nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll come. Of course.’
Jael was pleased. ‘Good. You’ll need to do more than dreaming, though. I will need a healer. Someone to help Astrid.’
Ayla’s eyes widened some more. ‘You’re taking Astrid?’
‘I am. She doesn’t know it yet, but yes, I am. Astrid’s had some experience now with Draguta’s creatures so she’ll be the perfect person to help us.’
Astrid didn’t look convinced. ‘Hest?’
‘You’ll be with me. I won’t let anything happen to you,’ Jael insisted.
Astrid sighed.
‘You’ll be fine. I saved you from those dragur, didn’t I? And besides, we’re going to need someone with your skills. Someone to care for the injured.’
‘Well, I can hardly say no to that,’ Astrid admitted, glancing at the door as though readying an escape.
‘I wish I could go,’ Hanna said from the bed. Her cheeks had filled out, and she almost looked like the woman Jael remembered from Tuura. ‘But no doubt I’ll be stuck in this bed until you return!’
Jael smiled. ‘I can’t say anything about that, not being a healer, but you look fine to me.’
Astrid frowned, having grown very protective of Hanna since she’d moved into Marcus’ cottage to care for her. ‘Not quite, but close. Another day or two. That’s what we agreed, wasn’t it?’
Hanna scowled at her. ‘We did.’
The knock on the door had her sitting upright, looking with interest to see who it was. Being bedbound, the only excitement in her day was receiving visitors, and now, after a day with no one, she had two at once.
Jael froze as Aleksander came in.
Aleksander froze, surprised to see Jael there. He quickly stepped back towards the door, bumping against it.
Astrid didn’t notice; she was too busy thinking of all the things she would need to prepare before their departure. Too busy worrying about who would look after Hanna. Certainly not Marcus, who could barely look after himself.
‘I...’ Aleksander’s voice was faint. He coughed. ‘I should go. You have visitors.’
Jael laughed, though her eyes were sharp, and she felt almost as uncomfortable as he looked. ‘No, I’ll go. I’m going. You stay.’
Aleksander couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t look at Hanna either. He tried to focus on Astrid, who turned back to the cauldron, ignoring them all.
Hanna watched them both with interest.
‘Come and find me when you’re done,’ Jael said, reaching around Aleksander for the door handle, wanting to go and find something cold to put on her swelling lips. ‘We need to organise a wagon for Ayla and Astrid. I want them to have somewhere to work while we’re on the road. Better if they’re not on horses. And we need to keep everything dry for them too.’
Aleksander frowned, not understanding any of that, but he nodded as Jael left, almost wishing he could go with her.
Hanna smiled, all of her attention on Aleksander now. She was pleased to see him, despite the fact that he looked ready to bolt after Jael. ‘Come and sit down. Astrid’s just made a broth. Perhaps you’d like some?’
Aleksander shook his head, waking himself up. He remembered Astrid’s broth. ‘No, no,’ he muttered quickly, carrying a stool towards the bed. ‘I’m not hungry.’
Hanna laughed. ‘I don’t blame you.’
Aleksander sat down on the small stool, trying to meet Hanna’s eyes. She smiled at him, and he found himself relaxing, forgetting Jael. Well, not forgetting Jael, but the warmth in Hanna’s eyes helped remind him of why he’d come. ‘You look better.’
‘I feel better. Impatient to get out of this cottage. I want some fresh air!’
‘You won’t get any out there, I’m afraid. It smells better in here.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ Hanna laughed.
‘Well, you might think that broth smells bad, but you’ll change your mind when you walk around the fort. It’s not good.’
Hanna noticed all the cuts on Aleksander’s face; the bandage wrapped around his wrist, his upper arms. ‘You’ve had a busy time out there while I’ve been stuck in this bed.’
‘We have. About to get even busier,’ he grinned, remembering all the things he should be doing. ‘A lot busier.’
‘And what can I do?’ Hanna wondered. ‘To help? Soon I’ll be out of bed. Maybe tomorrow.’ She ignored Astrid’s frown. ‘I want to do something.’
‘Well, you could help Astrid,’ Aleksander suggested. ‘We have to put together bags of herbs and salves. Tinctures too. Bandages. Splints. Whatever we can think of to take with us. I’ve a feeling we’re going to need a lot.’
Hanna’s smile was gone now, and she glanced at Astrid, who looked just as worried. ‘I will. I can do that, can’t I?’
‘Yes, yes, you can,’ Astrid said. ‘It’s the sort of thing you can sit at a table and do. You can be useful, I’m sure.’ She was distracted, thinking of how far she had come since her time in Harstad.
Thinking of how far she was about to go.
Evaine strode into the hall with her head high. She had taken her time to get ready, and though her hair was dirty, Elfwyn had spent a long time brushing it, which had given it a sheen that was almost presentable. She had barely eaten since Eadmund had left, and her golden gown swamped her petite figure, but her eyes were sharp, and her shoulders were straight, and she carried herself with the determination not to be cowed by anyone.
Especially not Draguta.
Draguta inhaled sharply, motioning for Evaine to join her at the map table. She had been fascinated to realise that she could make it come to life. Having painted her symbols around the long perimeter of the table, she could now watch where everyone was. She could see how far away Jaeger and Eadmund were from Angard. How disinclined they were to ride together. Though soon they would have no time for grumbling and bickering. Soon they would need her support, and she would be ready.
‘You require a bath,’ she said, turning to Evaine. ‘You will use mine. I cannot bear to
be around such filth.’
Evaine looked as though she’d been slapped.
‘And you will not disgrace Eadmund by being so slovenly again. Lying abed all day as though you were a wastrel with no prospects! You have prospects, Evaine. Plenty of them. How are you so blind?’
Evaine frowned, stepping forward. ‘Prospects?’
‘Your son is here. I have brought you your son.’ Draguta placed a finger on the figure of a faded blue man. ‘I have brought him for you and Eadmund.’
Evaine scowled. ‘Eadmund killed my father. He wants to kill me!’
‘But he didn’t and he won’t. You are the mother of his son. And seeing you with the baby will only confirm that.’ Draguta peered at Evaine whose eyes were brighter now, though the stink of her was still strong. ‘Watching as you tend to your tiny son? Seeing how much the baby needs you? He will soften towards you over time, I’m sure.’
Evaine wasn’t. She had seen the hateful look in Eadmund’s eyes when he’d threatened her. She wasn’t sure she cared if he loved her anymore.
She shivered uncontrollably, her body protesting the lie.
‘And his wife? What of her?’ Evaine jutted out her chin, feeling her teeth scrape against each other. Just thinking about Jael Furyck made her want to spit.
‘Eadmund will kill her,’ Draguta said, already seeing how that would go. ‘He will kill her because he is bound to me. He will kill her because I want her dead. But not yet. Not until everyone is in place. Not until I have everything I need. And then, my dear, Eadmund will be all yours, so go and wash that smell away and then, hurry to your son. You want to be ready for when Eadmund returns, don’t you?’
Thorgils had dragged Fyn around the fort with him, not wanting him to slink away and hide from them again. He knew that Fyn wasn’t the type to shirk his duties, but he also knew how deeply unsettling the loss of a parent was; even the loss of a parent as mean and angry as Odda had been.
It felt strange to be an orphan, Thorgils realised, but Fyn still had Bram. Though Bram appeared as distant and lost as his new-found son.
‘There you are!’ Thorgils boomed, surprising his uncle who had taken a break from supervising the wall repairs to head for the piers to check on Ulf. ‘Thought you’d gone back to your cottage for a nap!’
Bram didn’t look in any mood for Thorgils’ jokes or his company. He ignored him and glanced at Fyn instead. ‘Wondered where you’d gotten to,’ he said. ‘Thought you were going to come and help with the wall. We could use someone a little lighter up on the scaffolding. Taller too. We’ve too many short fat men up there. Not sure it’ll hold.’
Thorgils laughed, pleased to almost see a twinkle in Bram’s eyes. ‘Well, they wouldn’t want me up there, then.’
Fyn smiled, watching as Jael approached with Eydis. ‘I can do that,’ he mumbled.
‘Do what?’ Jael’s attention skipped past Fyn to Karsten and Ivaar who she could see arguing in the distance.
‘Bram thinks Fyn should be up on the scaffolding, helping to finish the wall, him being as light as a bean.’
Jael nodded. ‘Good idea. And that way, we’ll know just where to find you.’
Eydis wanted to say something to Fyn. To see if he was alright.
She didn’t imagine he was alright.
‘I had a dream about Morac last night,’ Jael announced suddenly, noting the sharpening of everyone’s eyes as they turned their gazes on her, constantly surprised by how similar they all were.
‘Lucky you,’ Bram grumbled, trying not to let his attention wander.
‘He was dead.’
‘What?’ Fyn looked horrified.
‘Dead?’ Thorgils’ eyes popped open. ‘How?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jael admitted. ‘Evaine was there, sobbing over him, but no one else. He was lying on the floor, quite dead.’ She had been confident that Fyn wouldn’t feel sad about that, and the look in his eyes confirmed it.
‘Well, I hope whoever did it made him suffer,’ Fyn growled. ‘He deserved to suffer for what he did to Eirik. For how he treated my mother.’
They were all quiet for a moment, remembering Runa.
‘Well, whoever did it, or however he died, what matters most is that Morac Gallas is no more,’ Bram declared. ‘And that’s the most important thing of all.’
‘Agreed,’ Thorgils added. ‘That just leaves us with Morana and Evaine. Two more Gallas’ dead and I’ll be happy. Then the Svanters and the Skallesons will finally be free.’
Jael watched Bram and Fyn nodding, and she found herself frowning, knowing that it would take more than killing Morana and Evaine to make them free.
It would take so much more than that.
5
The rain was driving Jaeger mad.
He was not used to it. Living in Hest, he was not used to rain at all, but the further west he travelled, the more it felt as though the dripping granite sky was clinging to him. Him and his equally sodden, miserable men who rode and marched behind him in the sloppy mud. Silently. The only sounds Jaeger could hear were the squeak and squelch of wet boots, the groan of wheels, the snorting and blowing of impatient horses growing bored with the slow progress of their trek towards Tokka.
Jaeger had left Eadmund to ride further back. Much further back. There was no need for them to keep up the pretence that they were leading this invasion together, not when Draguta wasn’t there to snap at them. These were Hestians. His army. Nothing to do with Eadmund, who could fall off a cliff for all he cared.
Jaeger grunted, sick of thinking about Eadmund. He nudged his horse, leaning forward as they started climbing, conscious of how slippery the path was becoming.
Another reason to hate the rain.
His mind wandered from Hest to Helsabor, bored but anxious. He had seen The Following work their magic. He had seen what skilled dreamers could do, and he knew that they were being watched – by Draguta, of course – but he was certain that Briggit Halvardar was following them as well. He didn’t feel happy about that, worrying that every rain cloud drifting towards them would reveal some new threat. He had been sleeping in disturbed bursts of panic, not even wanting to close his eyes; listening, trying to hear over the constant pelting of the rain, hoping to get a warning of what was coming for them.
Surely something was?
One more day, one more night and they would be in position.
If Briggit didn’t try something first.
Else and Dragmall were pleased to have escaped Briggit’s attention.
Though they could not escape Morana’s.
Briggit’s servant had found Morana a cottage in a noisy street near the castle, and Morana had insisted that Dragmall and Else share it with her. It was much more than a cottage, though, it was a fine stone house with three rooms, a bedchamber for Dragmall, one for Morana, and a number of beds in the main room, any of which were perfectly acceptable for Else.
It was the ideal arrangement, Morana thought, sipping the mint and licorice tea that Else had hastily prepared; an odd combination, but surprisingly refreshing after such an arduous journey from Hest. An arrangement that would give Dragmall and Else security, and Morana assistants who were bound to her, not by magic but by their desire to remain safe, under her protection.
She glanced at Dragmall, who had barely spoken since they’d arrived in the house. He sat opposite her, at the long wooden table in the main room. There were two fires, and Else was busy fussing over one, flipping hotcakes, collecting them onto a tray.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Morana grumped. ‘Stop fussing. I’m not hungry!’
‘Well, I am,’ Dragmall sighed. ‘At long last, I believe I may have rediscovered my appetite.’
Morana was surprised. ‘I had thought you would simply fade away now that your part in proceedings is over.’
‘Over?’ Dragmall’s stomach rumbled, and he looked longingly at Else’s tray, wishing she would hurry up. ‘You want to dispense with my services, then? Now that we’ve rescued you?’
/>
Morana pursed her hairy lips, eyeing the old man.
He was a volka.
She didn’t like volkas.
Those she had known were sanctimonious and condescending. They spoke to her as though her knowledge was less than theirs. They saw themselves as wise men. Only men. They had never put any stock in what dreamers said.
But Dragmall was different, she knew. She could feel it.
‘You wish to be of service to me?’ Morana scoffed. ‘I doubt that!’
Else finally delivered the tray of hotcakes to the table. ‘They’re a little... crumbled, I’m afraid,’ she apologised, red-faced and flustered, unfamiliar with the kitchen.
Dragmall thought they looked perfectly fine, and he quickly helped himself to one, spooning a dollop of honey onto it before rolling it up. ‘I do not appear to have much choice in the matter,’ he admitted, shovelling the hotcake into his mouth. ‘Without you, I’m not sure what The Following would do to us. You and Briggit have made an arrangement, and while we remain with you, I suspect she will not harm us, so I don’t believe that Else and I have any choice.’
‘No, I suppose you don’t. But as to whether I have any use for you...’ Morana glared at Else, who quickly dropped her eyes. ‘Though I cannot deny that I am only here because of you. Here, with an opportunity to defeat Draguta.’
‘And you think that’s possible?’ Dragmall wondered. ‘That you could kill her? She survived once.’
‘She did. Twice if you count that she was dead before we brought her back to life.’ Morana scowled, thinking about Yorik and the Followers, and how callously Draguta had murdered them. How much pleasure she had taken from their deaths. She would pay for that. And more. ‘But now we are here. And now we have help.’
