Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘You don’t need me. None of you do. Not anymore. As Karsten would say, I’m just an old man. A grey-beard.’

  ‘Maybe. But I’d take old and experienced over young and useless any day.’

  Gant laughed. ‘Axl has you. And you have Jael.’

  ‘And Jael?’

  Now they both looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Jael doesn’t need anyone just yet,’ Gant decided. ‘Not yet. But according to Marcus, the prophecy says that she does need Eadmund. As far as I’m aware it doesn’t say anything about needing me!’

  ‘No, don’t suppose it does. Me either.’

  ‘So,’ Gant said, his voice low, ‘that’s something to remember, isn’t it? You have to help Jael get Eadmund. You have to help her free him.’

  It wasn’t the most appealing task Aleksander had ever been assigned, but he nodded. ‘Of course. I will. But without you?’

  ‘You think I won’t be busy here? Trying to keep everyone safe?’ Gant laughed, though he could hear the strain in it. ‘You’ll have more than enough help. Karsten’s useful. Ivaar too. And who could forget Thorgils? You’re all experienced. More experienced than Axl.’

  ‘But not as experienced as you.’

  ‘No, and lucky for everyone here, I’m the best person to try and keep them all safe.’ Gant doubted that was true, though it was something to say to try and convince them both.

  Aleksander watched Axl head towards them. Despite his impressive new armour, he looked miserable. Tired. Ready to scream. Aleksander didn’t blame him. If Jaeger Dragos was keeping Jael prisoner, he would’ve felt the same. If Jaeger Dragos was keeping Jael prisoner, he wouldn’t be in Andala at all. ‘Have you told him? Axl?’

  Gant shook his head. ‘No. Looks like I’m about to, though.’

  ‘Rather you than me. Then again, maybe our king will refuse to let you stay, him being in charge as he is,’ Aleksander grinned, looking up, certain he’d heard a rumble of thunder, though the gathering clouds appeared harmless enough. ‘Good luck!’ And heading away, he wondered if he had time for a quick visit to Hanna.

  ‘We have to do it tonight,’ Jael decided, her eyes on the sun which was already heading for its bed. ‘We can’t wait.’

  ‘I agree,’ Edela said, though she didn’t feel confident about how it would go. ‘But I think I should be the one to do the dream walk.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You are weak,’ Edela reminded her. ‘You and Ayla. Both of you have been ill recently. More recently than me.’

  Jael frowned, avoiding Ayla’s sympathetic eyes. ‘No. You’ll be dream walking when we leave. I’ve no doubt about that. You should conserve your energy.’

  Edela wanted to argue, but it made sense. ‘I imagine you’re right.’ They were walking in her reinvigorated garden, Ayla bending down every few steps to add a cutting to her basket, preparing for an afternoon of tincture making.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be alright, Edela?’ Ayla wondered suddenly. ‘Without me?’ She straightened up, wiping a dirty hand on her red apron.

  Edela tried to smile confidently, though she felt uncertain about how she would handle the load. Their dreams about the ring had terrified her. She couldn’t stop imagining the moment when Draguta had pushed her finger through the wall, breaking it open.

  All that ancient stone.

  She had seen that wall in her dreams many times over the years. It was tall enough to touch the clouds, she was sure.

  How was it even possible?

  Edela hurried all her fears away from their enquiring eyes. ‘Oh, I’ll be fine. Eydis will no doubt be far busier than me. You’ve no need to worry about us. As long as we have our supplies and our symbols, we’ll be fine.’

  Jael turned towards the gate. ‘I’ll come back tonight, then. Think I’d better go and find Aleksander, check on Gisila, and maybe have something to eat. If I don’t, Biddy will hunt me down!’

  Ayla smiled, watching her go, her tension building.

  Soon Jael would leave, and she would go with her.

  And if Meena Gallas didn’t help them, they were all surely going to die.

  Amma had been struggling to breathe in her new dress, so Meena had taken her back to get it adjusted. Panicking that the tailor was taking too long, she had left her there, worried that Draguta would be stalking the castle looking for her. She had no instructions or lists, and though she knew that there would be time before Jaeger and Eadmund returned with their prisoners, she didn’t know what Draguta was planning in the meantime.

  Hopefully nothing.

  Meena’s mind wandered to Else as she walked. To Dragmall too.

  She wondered what Morana had done with them.

  To them.

  She was so lost in her thoughts, letting them run freely for the first time in days that she didn’t see Evaine coming around the corner of the castle, heading for the markets.

  ‘What is wrong with you?’ Evaine snapped as Meena stood on her foot, banging into her. Stepping back, she eyed her venomously. ‘Why don’t you look up when you walk, you stupid girl!’

  It often surprised Meena to realise that she and Evaine were cousins. Evaine treated her as something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. She frowned, noticing the girl carrying Evaine’s baby, watching with interest. The baby stared at her, sucking on his pudgy fist. Meena felt lost for a moment, not bothered by Evaine’s spitting fury. She thought of how lovely it would be to hold a baby, a happy baby. Not Jaeger’s baby. And reminded of Amma, and then Draguta, she blinked, turning to Evaine. ‘I may be stupid,’ she said, ‘but I’ve never put a spell on anyone to make them love me.’ And moving quickly past a rigid-with-horror Evaine, she almost skipped up the castle steps two at a time.

  Tanja ducked her head, hiding a smile. She didn’t really feel happy at all. She thought of Andala and felt wistful for the young man she had dreamed of marrying. And of Runa who had tried to save Sigmund. She thought of Draguta and shook, but the baby wriggling in her arms gave her some hope. According to everything she’d overhead, Eadmund would be returning soon.

  And when he was here, there would be a chance to escape, of that she was certain.

  Eadmund stared up at Briggit’s ostentatious castle. Not one part of him wanted to live in such a place. He turned away, scanning the carnage of the scorched square. The smell was intensifying thanks to the presence of the dragon’s corpses; a smell he remembered from his time in Andala. It had been raining again, and now everything was damp; blood running across the cobblestones in dark-red rivers; charred remains turning soggy; broken pieces of wall and people everywhere.

  The Hestian army was hard at work, removing the bodies, securing the Helsaborans, putting those who were able to work, tending to the wounded, clearing up the rubble, making a path so that people could get in and out through the hole in the wall.

  Draguta wanted Helsabor as the next step in her quest to claim all of Osterland. She wanted Briggit Halvardar and her Followers, but what was she going to do with them once they were in Hest?

  Eadmund stretched out his neck, realising that he hadn’t seen Jaeger in hours, wondering if he had snuck past him and gone back into the castle to find Briggit. He hoped not. Turning around, he realised that he would have to check. Draguta would be furious if Jaeger laid his hands on Briggit.

  Frowning, he looked to the left, past the decomposing black dragon, to where the square stretched towards a series of streets. Tall, narrow houses, once pale stone were dirty with wet dust now. He shivered, blinking his eyes open wider, peering through the rain. It was getting heavier, but he was sure he’d just seen a glimpse of his mother.

  11

  Draguta ran a hand over the soft, white bed furs, enjoying the luxurious feel of polar bear. Dead polar bear. Sacrificed for a greater good. Sacrificed for her pleasure.

  A greater good, indeed.

  She lay down on the bed, her eyes on the late-afternoon sun streaming in through the balcony doors in lengthening rays, a deep golden light fil
ling the chamber. And she sighed, suddenly weary. It was as though her body required regeneration. Rest. A renewal of energy. And yet there was so much more to do. So many more lives to bind and end. So many more enemies to destroy in Osterland and beyond. There could be no rest until then. Not until they were all vanquished and she ruled alone, obeyed and feared by all.

  Twisting the soft fur in her fingers, Draguta closed her eyes, hoping to find her sister waiting for her in a dream.

  ‘Are you going to do it tonight?’ Berard wondered. ‘The dream walk?’ He had hunted Jael down, realising that there were things he should say. Things he hoped would convince Meena to help them.

  ‘We’ll try,’ Jael said. She was distracted, watching as the tanner fitted new leather armour over Tig. She wanted to make sure it fit. That he was not exposed. That he would still be able to run freely. Her mind was not on Berard or the dream walk at all.

  Berard could tell. He grabbed Jael’s arm, trying to get her attention. ‘Meena is very... she may not listen to you. She will be scared of you, I imagine. Intimidated.’

  ‘Of me?’ Jael looked surprised.

  ‘Well, you are quite intimidating on first meeting.’

  ‘But then?’

  ‘But then... no... you’re still intimidating after that,’ Berard decided.

  Jael laughed, giving him almost all of her attention. ‘What are you saying? That I should try to be nicer than I usually would? Softer?’ She wrinkled her nose, doubting she was capable of that.

  ‘Well, yes, if you could, I’m sure that it would help.’ Berard was flustered. Thinking about Meena had produced a rush of emotions, all of them demanding his attention. But mostly, he felt worried. ‘I think Meena needs encouragement. A reason to help.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I want you to tell her that I’m coming to rescue her. That I’ll be there soon. She needs to help us and stay safe until I come. I’ll rescue her from Jaeger. From Draguta and Morana. I will come!’ Berard was red-faced, getting himself worked up, imagining how much his brother must have hurt Meena since she’d been stuck in Hest with him.

  Remembering her conversation with Karsten, Jael placed an arm around Berard’s shoulder, drawing him away from Tig and the tanner, towards the stable doors. ‘You’re not coming with us, Berard,’ she said gently. Hoping she sounded gentle. ‘I need you here. To help Gant and Bram with the fort.’

  ‘What?’ Berard’s face reddened further. He shook his head crossly. ‘No! No, I want to come, Jael. I need to come. To help Karsten. To save Meena!’

  Jael sighed, realising that honesty was probably the better strategy. Certainly the fastest. ‘Karsten doesn’t want you to come.’

  ‘What? Why?’ Berard stood taller, imagining just what his brother had told Jael. ‘He doesn’t think I’m good enough. He never has! None of them ever did! But he can’t stop me. I have to go!’

  ‘But I can stop you, and I agree with Karsten.’ Jael stared into Berard’s frantic eyes. ‘He doesn’t know if he’ll come back. He doesn’t want to leave your family alone. He needs you to stay, to be with them. To protect them.’

  Berard frowned, quieter now. ‘He doesn’t think he’ll come back?’

  ‘Well, there’s no guarantee, is there? But Jaeger will die, one way or the other, and who will be left to sit upon the dragon throne? Who will be left to care for all those children if something happens to Karsten? You can do more good here, Berard. More good than you could with a sword.’

  Berard dropped his head, sighing.

  ‘We will kill your brother, I promise. We will kill Jaeger.’

  He nodded, looking up. ‘Alright, alright. But you must tell Meena that we will save her. That I am... waiting for her. I... want to see her again.’

  Jael smiled. ‘I will.’

  ‘It might help,’ Berard insisted, turning at the sound of the tanner’s yelp as Tig bit him.

  Jael closed her eyes in embarrassment. ‘I have to go. Don’t be too hard on Karsten. He’s trying to do the right thing. And it is the right thing!’ she insisted, hurrying to Tig who looked ready to bite the grimacing tanner again.

  Berard watched Jael go, listening as she grumbled at her badly behaved horse, his mind flitting from Meena to Karsten and finally to Jaeger.

  Jaeger, who had to be stopped one way or another.

  In the end, he realised, it didn’t matter who did it.

  As long as they killed his brother.

  Eadmund had walked down to the piers, relieved to see that Jaeger had not snuck back into the castle. He was actually doing some work, overseeing the ferrying of the gold from the castle to the ships. They would be taking nineteen of Briggit’s fleet back to Hest.

  Their ships now.

  That would leave enough men behind with Gunter to maintain order in Angard. More troops would be scouring the rest of Helsabor, putting down any resistance they met, conquering one settlement at a time.

  Claiming each one of them for Hest.

  Jaeger smiled at the thought of it, then frowned, glaring at Eadmund. ‘Why not?’ They stood on the end of a pier next to a forty-man warship, the sky darkening above them, rain falling steadily.

  He was growing tired of being wet.

  ‘We need to tie up every loose end before we leave. It makes sense for you to get the Followers back to Draguta quickly. I’ll stay another day, make sure there are no problems,’ Eadmund said, not needing or wanting Jaeger’s approval for why he was choosing to remain behind. ‘I want to make sure we’ve got every Follower. I’m not convinced we do.’

  Jaeger realised that he didn’t care either way, and besides, at least he would arrive back in Hest first, with all of Draguta’s prizes.

  ‘I’ll be bringing Briggit with me.’

  ‘No.’ Jaeger stepped forward, jutting his bearded chin at Eadmund, daring him to step away.

  He didn’t, enduring the smell of Jaeger’s sour breath.

  ‘Draguta asked me to bring her back. You heard her!’

  ‘I did, but I also heard her say that she didn’t want Briggit touched,’ Eadmund reminded him. ‘And I think you’ve already broken that promise. Let Draguta reprimand me, but I’m not leaving Briggit alone with you. Not for four days on a ship.’ And not waiting for an argument, Eadmund strode down the pier, back to the square, his eyes drifting to where he thought he’d seen his mother, realising that he needed to find somewhere to get a good sleep before he started hallucinating.

  Jaeger watched him go, deciding that the time had come to do something about Eadmund Skalleson. Draguta was becoming far too fond of him, far too reliant on his leadership. But in Hest, there could be only one king.

  So it was time to think about removing the other.

  Ayla stood outside the cottage door, thinking about Hest. About Draguta. About Helsabor and Briggit.

  About her dream.

  She couldn’t stop shivering. It felt as though they were being pushed towards the most terrifying conclusion. As though life as they knew it was coming to a horrifying end.

  The door swung open, and Bruno stood there staring at her. He smiled, his weary body almost sighing with happiness. ‘Do you plan to come in or should I come out?’

  Ayla’s hands were muddy, her fingernails black. She had been digging in Edela’s garden for most of the afternoon. Distracted. Not realising how filthy she was until now. ‘No, I’m coming in,’ she smiled, staring up at Bruno, pleased to discover that her feelings of resentment towards him had retreated, or perhaps vanished altogether. She was overwhelmed with the need to hold him close, to spend some time with him.

  Before she had to let him go.

  Thorgils hadn’t said a word since he’d sat down at the table, which nobody appeared to have noticed because with four children eating, it was impossible to even hear yourself think.

  But Isaura noticed. She reached under the table and squeezed his hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t want another turnip?’

  Thorgils loved turnips, she knew, but he
had barely made his way through one.

  He shook his head, blinking, realising that he’d drifted off, but he was suddenly aware of Leya’s red face and the tears on Selene’s cheeks. ‘Is everyone alright?’ he asked, smiling at the girls; at Mads who glared crossly at him.

  There were a few nods, a few more tears.

  Isaura tried to lift the mood. ‘Selda made an apple cake,’ she smiled, jiggling Mads on her knee. ‘Would you like some?’

  Mads frowned, wondering what he would have to do for that treat. But Isaura was too busy worrying about Thorgils to try and coax anything out of him.

  ‘How about you?’ She nudged Thorgils’ arm. ‘Cake?’

  ‘Cake would be nice, then I have to leave.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘A meeting in the hall.’

  ‘Another one?’

  ‘I doubt there’ll be many more, don’t worry,’ Thorgils grinned, reaching for the piece of cake Selda handed him. ‘We have to go over what still needs to be done, which by the looks of things out there is a lot.’

  ‘At least the wall is finished. That’s something.’

  Thorgils nodded, his mouth full of warm apple cake. ‘It is... finished... finally.’

  ‘And you think it’s high enough? That it will keep everything out?’ Isaura looked anxiously at her children, realising that it was not a conversation to have around them.

  But Thorgils felt confident in his answer. ‘It’s high enough. Those barsk wouldn’t have been able to jump it. Don’t worry, we’ve a good wall there. A strong, tall wall. You’ll be perfectly safe in here once we leave, won’t you?’ And he smiled at the girls whose attention was suddenly on the cake Selda was serving. ‘Perfectly safe indeed.’ Thorgils turned to Isaura, seeing the worry in her eyes, the fear that they would never see each other again.

  He reached under the table and squeezed her knee, trying to make her smile.