by A. E. Rayne
Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her stomach.
‘I’ll go and find you some wood,’ Meena said, standing up. ‘You are cold.’
Amma shook her head. ‘I don’t think I am. It’s warm in here. I’m just... worried. Jaeger will be here soon, won’t he?’
Meena nodded, not looking forward to that either.
‘And what will he do, do you think? To me?’
Meena opened her mouth, then shrugged, glancing quickly at the door, wanting to escape. She immediately felt bad and turned back to Amma with a sigh. ‘You need to please him, do what he wants. That’s the only way. You are his wife. That is his child,’ she said, pointing to Amma’s belly. ‘He will try not to hurt you, I know, but Jaeger... he cannot control himself. The book... the book controls him.’
Amma blinked rapidly, not really understanding but nodding nonetheless.
Meena tried to smile reassuringly, edging towards the door. ‘Draguta wants your child. She will protect you. You must believe that. She sees everything. She will protect you.’ Those words rung in Meena’s ears as she gripped the door handle.
Draguta sees everything.
She might want Amma. Need Amma. Protect Amma.
But as for how much longer Draguta would need her...
Meena pulled open the door. ‘I will come again in the morning if Draguta doesn’t need me. Don’t worry, you’re safe here.’
Amma sighed, watching her disappear through the door, suddenly feeling very alone.
Gant didn’t want to disturb Gisila, but she’d insisted that he sleep with her. She didn’t want to sleep alone anymore, so he lay on his side, listening to her as she told him what had happened that night.
‘One man had Amma... Sigmund. I saw Runa...’ Gisila closed her eyes, remembering the moment that man had ripped the axe from her hands, throwing it away. ‘I felt so helpless. Still. All these years after Tuura. Why hadn’t I let Ranuf show me anything? Any way to defend myself at all?’
Gant touched her hand. ‘I’m not sure it would have helped. They didn’t care about you. And there were two of them. You would’ve struggled to fight them off even if you knew how to.’
Gisila closed her eyes, knowing he was right. ‘Poor Amma,’ she sighed, opening them. ‘She must feel so scared. You don’t think they’ve killed her, do you?’
‘No. Edela seems confident that they won’t. She is Jaeger’s wife, and he seemed quite enamoured with her when we were there. And carrying his baby might just be a stroke of luck for Amma.’
Gisila gasped, a stinging pain jabbing her stomach as she tried to adjust her legs.
‘Do you need anything?’ Gant wondered, propping himself up on an elbow.
‘Only to feel safe. To be free from all these threats. To turn back time to three years ago, even a year ago, when we were safe.’ She stared into his worried grey eyes. ‘When I thought we were safe.’
Gant lay down again, holding her hand. ‘I can’t agree with you there. Three years ago, we had Lothar. And then you were his wife. And now...’
‘Now?’
‘Now we’ll fight whatever comes our way together. You and me.’
Gisila’s body sunk deeper into the mattress. She was in pain and terrified of what was coming, but deep down in her heart, happier than she could remember feeling in years. Leaning forward, she kissed Gant, the bristles of his beard rough against her lips. ‘You and me,’ she smiled. ‘Together.’
Meena wasn’t sure if she had ever been happy, but if there had been one moment in her life when she might have felt true joy, this was it.
She was seven-years-old.
Her red hair was tame, long, falling down past her waist in tight braids tied with blue ribbons. Her face was clean, her eyes bright as she ran alongside her father. He was unhappy, she could tell, his heart broken by the death of his second wife, but Meena hadn’t liked her, and she felt elated to have her father all to herself again.
But then there was Varna.
Her grandmother walked on Meena’s other side, a terrifying, odd figure. A smelly old crone who stooped and shuffled and spoke in strained rasps. There was no smile in her eyes, no warmth in her gnarled hands that kept pointing and poking at her. But her father was there, a comforting presence keeping Varna away, so Meena ignored her grandmother as she ran, chasing the birds which flew up high, squawking. They would be happy here in the city, her father had promised. They would stay in the castle with Varna until they found a cottage.
It would be a new start, just the two of them.
Meena ran and ran, shuddering to a halt as the sky rumbled above her, dark clouds clustering, lightning zigzagging above her head. Spinning around, she saw that her father had gone, but Varna was still there, peering at her with wild eyes, strands of thinning grey hair whipping around a sunken face.
‘You foolish doormat!’ she growled. ‘What sort of dreamer are you? Blind, deaf, and dumb. Awake or asleep! What use are you to anyone? A dough-headed fool! An embarrassment to our family! All that’s left. Almost...’ Varna turned away. ‘What use are you to anyone?’ she muttered, her voice lost beneath a boom of thunder.
Meena stood watching her grandmother shuffle into the darkness, happy that she was gone, relieved that she was dead, reminded of her pinching fingers and her biting tongue. She shivered, closing her eyes, wanting to see the sun.
To feel warm.
Safe.
‘What about me?’ came the voice.
Meena spun around, coming face to face with Jael Furyck.
‘What use can you be to me?’
Eskild couldn’t get through to Eadmund. She needed to, though.
Urgently.
But something was shielding him from her. Something Draguta had done.
One of the many things that Draguta had done.
She watched her son dreaming of Oss, tortured by memories of Jael and Evaine, and she couldn’t force her way through into any of them. He was alone, drifting, in danger of being consumed by Draguta.
Lost to them forever.
But there was a chance. A chance that she could change his course.
If only she could break into his dreams.
Meena stumbled, glancing around. She wanted to leave. ‘M-m-me?’ Dropping her eyes, she tried to think, not knowing what Jael Furyck wanted with her, or what she was doing in her dream.
Jael reached out, grabbing her arm, trying to calm her down. ‘I have come for your help, Meena.’
It was suddenly so dark that Meena didn’t know where they were. She blinked, listening to waves pounding the shore. At the cove. They were at Fool’s Cove. And she remembered how Draguta had led her there; tricked her into not even knowing her own thoughts.
Was this Draguta now? Playing games with her?
Jael watched Meena twitch and wobble, her big eyes flitting about in panic. ‘Meena, I have come from Berard. He sent me.’ She hoped Berard’s advice would help. ‘He is so worried about you. So sorry that you stayed behind.’
Meena froze. ‘Berard?’ She turned quickly, her eyes on the cliffs. ‘Draguta will be watching!’ she almost shrieked. ‘You have to go! I don’t care about Berard! Go! Go back to Andala!’ She ripped her arm out of Jael’s grasp. But as she ran, stumbling through the heavy sand, Jael easily caught her, grabbing her again.
‘You have to take the ring.’
Meena stuttered to a stop, her shoulders sinking, her head low.
‘Draguta will kill us all with that ring. I am coming. I will come. For you. And Amma. And Sigmund. And Eadmund. But I cannot stop her if she has that ring. You must take it. Destroy it.’
Meena’s mind was blank, her thoughts running away, as terrified as she was.
Jael turned her around, staring down at her trembling figure, trying to see her eyes which were now lost beneath all that hair. ‘I know it is terrifying, more than terrifying, but we all have to do something brave. Each one of us has to take a step forward. And if we do, if we all try to defeat Draguta, i
f we fight together, we have a chance.’
Meena didn’t speak.
Jael wasn’t sure that she was even breathing. ‘You might die,’ she said quietly. ‘I might die, but I would happily die knowing that my death saved everyone else. Wouldn’t you? Or would you rather stay here as Jaeger’s prisoner? As Draguta’s? What sort of life would that be? A slave to them all!’
‘I... how? How could I?’ Meena kept having to remind herself that Draguta was watching. ‘I can’t. I wouldn’t. Draguta saved me! She keeps me safe. I won’t betray her!’ She wondered if Draguta was trying to test her loyalty.
If this was Draguta.
Jael could read her thoughts, but what good they were, she didn’t know. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time with Berard since he arrived in Andala,’ Jael tried. ‘I’ve spoken to him about you. Karsten told me about how you stayed behind when you had a chance to leave. That was brave. You could have left, couldn’t you? But you didn’t. You wanted to help, Meena. You stayed for a reason, and here it is. Now. You must take the ring. Destroy it before it’s too late.’
Meena didn’t say anything. She pushed her boots deeper into the cold sand, wanting to push herself straight under it and disappear from them all.
‘Berard is waiting for you,’ Jael said, her ears buzzing; familiar enough with dream walking now to know that she was losing her grip on the trance. ‘We will come. Soon. Take the ring, Meena. Please! Take the ring!’
And then she was gone, and Meena was blinking at the dark shapes of merchant ships out at sea, Jael’s voice ringing in her ears.
13
They arrived earlier than Edela had anticipated, both of them as twitchy as mice. Edela had not seen Biddy or Eydis yet, and she hadn’t felt inclined to make herself anything more than a cup of dandelion tea for breakfast.
‘Have we woken you?’ Sybill worried as she sheltered on the doorstep, trying to keep out of the rain, her eyes on the yawning old woman who stood before her in a yellow dress, enormous silver brooches holding up her apron straps.
Edela shook her head. She felt as though she’d just woken up, though she had been awake for some time. The smoke from Jael’s dream walking had played havoc with her sleep, and she felt as though she’d been working hard all night with nothing to show for it. ‘Please, come in,’ she smiled, looking from Sybill to her daughter who was tall and thin; an attractive looking girl with intense dark-blue eyes framed by thick eyebrows; long golden-brown hair trailing down her back in a single braid, a few strands escaping to frame an angular face. She seemed slightly more confident than her timid mother as she ducked her head, entering the cottage.
Edela followed them inside, hoping that Biddy would return soon. She didn’t have the energy to fuss about looking after guests. ‘Please, take a seat,’ she mumbled. ‘Can I make you some tea?’
The two women shook their heads as they each took a stool, waiting for Edela to get comfortable in her chair.
‘I must confess that I’ve forgotten your name,’ Edela admitted, her eyes on the girl who was almost as tall as Jael. ‘Your mother mentioned it last night, but with all the hubbub in the hall, I quite forgot it. Though that might just be old age!’
Sybill smiled at her daughter, encouraging her to speak.
‘My name is Ontine.’
‘Oh, what a pretty name,’ Edela said. ‘And how old are you, Ontine?’
‘I’m nineteen. Twenty come winter.’
‘And not married? Lucky you!’ Edela grinned, feeling better now that the flames were once again warming her frozen toes. She took a sip of her tea, noticing that Ontine looked ready to cry.
Sybill hurried to explain. ‘Ontine had a sweetheart. They were promised to one another. He was killed in the fire. He ran back into the fort to save his horse. We escaped Tuura, but poor Victor never made it out.’
‘Oh.’ Edela felt terrible. ‘I am sorry.’ She looked up as the door opened and Biddy and Eydis came hurrying in from the rain, followed by a dripping Fyn, who took one look at Ontine Ethburg and turned bright red.
Biddy looked surprised, her eyes on Edela’s visitors. ‘I didn’t know you were expecting company this morning.’ She felt odd, wondering why Edela was suddenly keeping so many things from her.
‘I should go,’ Fyn mumbled into his wet tunic. He had seen Ontine around the fort, many times, though he doubted she’d ever noticed him. It was a shock to see her sitting there, staring at him. He swallowed, wanting to leave.
‘Oh no, you won’t!’ Biddy grabbed his arm before he could slip through the door. ‘I promised you a hot breakfast, and now that we’re all wet, you need it more than ever. You sit over there with Eydis. On my bed. Dry those puppies before they shake all over us. I’ll get to work.’
‘This is Sybill and Ontine,’ Edela said, sensing that Biddy was huffing around the kitchen with hurt feelings. ‘Ontine is a dreamer. They have come to see if they can help us.’
Biddy’s eyes were wide, though not as wide as Eydis’.
Eydis couldn’t see either of the visitors, but she could sense Fyn’s interest in one of them, and it immediately unsettled her.
‘Well, we need all the help we can get,’ Biddy decided, unpacking her basket onto the table. ‘Especially dreamer help. Fyn, come over here. We need to get that fire going if I’m going to make some flatbreads. Eydis can dry the puppies.’
Fyn almost tripped over his wet boots as he stood, making his way towards Biddy, catching Ontine’s eye and blushing further.
‘I’ve got some soft cheese and honey in here. Raspberries too, if you’d like some, Edela? And tea,’ she decided. ‘Something to warm us all up. That rain is freezing!’
Edela was nodding, eyes on her guests. Sybill and Ontine were looking at each other awkwardly, too shy to say much. Fyn was trying not to look at anyone as he added logs to the fire.
And Eydis, who couldn’t see a thing, suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that everything was about to fall apart.
Hanna’s eyes brightened as the door opened, before falling, seeing that it was only her father who had rushed inside to escape the sudden downpour. ‘You should come and sit by the fire. Dry yourself off.’
Marcus shook the rain from his hair, rubbing it out of his eyes. ‘I will. It’s not warm out there this morning.’
‘No?’ Hanna tried to sound interested.
‘You were expecting someone else?’ her father wondered, pulling a stool towards the fire where his daughter sat, failing miserably to mask her disappointment. ‘Someone tall and dark-haired perhaps? Good with a sword?’
Hanna scowled. ‘I’m happy for any company. Any visitors would be welcome.’
Marcus smiled, glancing around. ‘Where has Astrid gone?’
‘She left with Ayla to prepare their wagon.’
‘Oh.’
‘I imagine she’ll be gone for most of the day.’
‘I could go and find him if you like? Aleksander?’ Marcus felt odd saying it, but he hated seeing Hanna look so miserable. And he didn’t blame her for wanting company that wasn’t his. She was a woman. Not a girl. He couldn’t expect her to be happy locked in a cottage day after day with no one to talk to.
Hanna squirmed uncomfortably, preparing a protest before dropping her shoulders. ‘No. He... I think it’s best if you don’t. He loves Jael Furyck.’
Now Marcus squirmed. ‘I couldn’t say. He did, yes. But she is married, isn’t she? Quite determined to get her husband back from what I’ve seen. Aleksander just needs time to let her go.’
Hanna listened to the rain pattering on the roof, reminded of Tuura and her horrible cottage. She turned to her father. ‘My mother never let you go.’
Marcus almost bit his tongue. ‘What do you... what do you mean?’
‘When she was dying, she told me that she had never stopped loving you.’ The memory upset her and Hanna felt tears coming. ‘It took some time to claim her, the illness. She spoke at first, told me all about you. That I should find you when she was.
.. gone.’
Marcus couldn’t speak. His greatest regret had been leaving Hanna’s mother. The emptiness inside him had remained, not filled by his service to the temple or his privileged position as the elderman.
Hanna rushed to fill the silence, feeling guilty for hurting him. ‘She didn’t blame you. She wasn’t angry. She accepted that you loved the temple. It was just... hard for her. She missed you.’
Marcus nodded, memories surging forward, surprisingly raw. ‘I... missed her.’
‘So, it’s not always easy to let go, then.’ Hanna held her father’s hand, leaning against him. ‘Even when you know you have no choice.’
‘No,’ Marcus conceded sadly. ‘No, it isn’t.’
Jaeger hadn’t slept much, and it showed.
He had gone with Gunter and some of his men to a brothel, which despite the attack on the city, was still doing business. Though after the destruction of Briggit’s army, it was Hestian business now. The night had been entertaining, distracting, but ultimately, unfulfilling. His mind had wandered to Meena and then Briggit. Sometimes, he’d thought of his pregnant wife, who he knew would be waiting for him in his bed, but mostly he’d thought about Draguta, and how much he wanted to please her. And though Jaeger wanted to get rid of Eadmund, and claim all of her attention for himself, he realised that killing Eadmund would have the opposite effect. Draguta would not thank him at all. Eadmund was her favourite new toy, and he knew that she had plans for him. Plans he couldn’t disrupt if he wanted to stay on her good side.
The sun was out, and Jaeger was relieved to be almost dry as he ran his eye over Berger and his men who were busy securing the contents of Briggit’s wine cellar onto the warships he’d be taking to Hest. He nodded in approval, feeling his head pound, remembering how much mead he’d drunk in the brothel. It was powerful stuff, stronger than anything he’d tried before.
He was taking casks of that too.
Turning to glance up at the wall and the enormous hole Draguta had made in it, he smiled, pleased to think that he wasn’t Briggit Halvardar or Jael Furyck. Or Raymon Vandaal, come to think of it. They would all suffer at Draguta’s hands. Each one of them powerless against her might.
