Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  Meena watched her go with a smile, hoping she could remember the rest of the list, but not caring in the slightest if she couldn’t.

  It was such a relief to finally be alone.

  Fyn and Eydis found Jael on her way to the tailor’s with Entorp.

  Jael didn’t know why she was on her way to the tailor’s, but Entorp wouldn’t tell her. She glanced at Eydis. ‘What happened to you?’ she wondered, peering at Eydis’ sour face.

  Fyn, who hadn’t noticed that anything was amiss, suddenly turned to her. ‘Are you alright, Eydis?’

  Eydis could sense everyone staring at her, and she felt uncomfortable and embarrassed, realising that she’d been acting like a child. ‘Yes. I am...worried. That’s all. Everything feels so uncertain.’

  ‘It does,’ Jael agreed, turning to Fyn. ‘Why don’t you take Eydis to the hall? I know Biddy was going to start preparing it for Edela. You could help move things around? Maybe help with carving the symbols too?’

  Fyn nodded, eager to have something to do. He was struggling to turn his mind away from his grief. Everyone was too busy focusing on their own tasks to notice most of the time, but Jael could see that he needed direction. And she needed someone to keep an eye on Eydis, who didn’t look happy at all. She didn’t blame her. With so much terror swirling around the fort, and with the fear of what would happen with Eadmund, it was a worrying time for them all.

  Eydis let herself be pulled away by Fyn and Jael’s attention was quickly back on Entorp who was attempting to push her inside Arnna’s cottage. ‘I’ll come and see you later!’ she called over her shoulder, stopping short as she turned around to the tiny, almost hairless Arnna who was holding the most magnificent leather arm guards in her hands.

  And when Jael glanced at the table, she could see dark leather trousers and a new blue tunic. Her faithful old helmet had been polished, free of its usual dents, her mail shirt repaired and gleaming. A new pair of boots sat there too – longer than she would usually wear – black leather, shining silver buckles.

  She blinked.

  Entorp smiled. ‘We wanted to make you a new outfit,’ he said shyly.

  ‘You did?’ Jael had no idea that Entorp and Arnna had ever spoken to each other, let alone conspired to produce a beautiful new set of armour for her.

  ‘Well, it was my idea,’ Arnna cackled, bent over and shoving the arm guards at Jael, who took them with unblinking eyes. ‘But I needed some help. Someone to show me how to keep you safe. Entorp came in quite handy for that.’

  Jael could see as she ran her eyes over the black leather, noticing the symbols carved into it. Some were almost familiar now, she realised. ‘You have been busy.’

  ‘Well, not just us,’ Arnna admitted. ‘Bertil played his part too, dying all that leather just the right shade of black. I do hope it will fit,’ she grinned toothlessly. ‘But for that, we’ll need to get rid of you.’ And peering up at Entorp, she pointed a tiny finger at the door. ‘Wait out there, and I’ll call you in when she’s ready.’

  Jael turned to Entorp as he headed for the door, her eyes still full of surprise. ‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘I... thank you.’

  Entorp ducked his head, pleased that he could do something to help. He knew that those symbols were likely useless against Draguta, but hopefully, they would help protect her against any other dreamers who sought to hurt her.

  If Draguta didn’t kill them all first.

  Dragmall had barely spoken since they’d woken up.

  He imagined it was morning as he had woken at the same time, give or take an hour, since he was a young man. His stomach was certainly acting as though it was morning, joining Else’s in a rumbling chorus of hunger pains.

  Morana was tired, her body aching. She had tried to dream, but she had seen nothing except pointless memories of her childhood on Oss with Eirik and Morac. It had left her feeling morose, as though she was looking backwards, instead of to where she needed to go next; instead of finding a way out of this stinking dark pit. The catacombs reminded her of the Dolma, and she shivered, sensing how close that bleak hole was to claiming her.

  Else mumbled away to Dragmall who didn’t answer.

  He appeared to be conserving his energy.

  For what, Morana wondered? What could he see? ‘You’re a dreamer,’ she stated blankly. ‘Aren’t you?’

  Else blinked, turning to Dragmall, trying to see his eyes, but they were hidden. Under this blanket of oppressive darkness, everything was hidden.

  It was a question Dragmall had rebuffed for years. But now? ‘I am.’

  Morana looked pleased to have drawn the truth from him.

  Else was gobsmacked. ‘You are? But you’ve always insisted that you weren’t. All these years, you said that you weren’t!’

  Dragmall sighed. ‘Being a male dreamer is no easy path to walk, Else. Not one who aspired to being a volka. The volka. They did not recognise a dreamer’s gifts at all. When my father married my mother, he tried to stop her dreaming.’

  Morana frowned. ‘Why did your mother put up with that?’

  ‘She didn’t,’ Dragmall admitted. ‘She just hid her gifts. Taught me instead.’

  ‘So, you have dreams?’ Else asked. ‘You’re a real dreamer?’

  Dragmall laughed. ‘I don’t know what a real dreamer is, but I have dreams, I see things, yes.’

  ‘And do you see a way out of here?’ Morana rasped desperately. ‘I can’t see anything. Only this. Only darkness.’

  ‘I see Eadmund Skalleson and his men. They are looking for those who escaped.’

  ‘Oh!’ Else was quickly panicking beside Dragmall, gripping his arm, moving closer. ‘And will they find us?’

  ‘Here?’ Dragmall shrugged. ‘They will be hard-pressed to. This place is warded from those who seek its location. Or, at least, it was...’

  Morana leaned forward. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Everything has gone,’ Dragmall said. ‘The Followers killed the volkas. I saw that in my dreams last night. When Briggit rose to power, she had them all killed. But first, she tortured them. She found a way into their secrets. Most died nobly, but one man sought to have his life spared. He told her about this place. About what was hidden here.’

  ‘Which was what?’ Morana felt strangely removed from her senses. Her thoughts were trapped, just as they were trapped, and she couldn’t find a way back to herself; back to all that she needed to help her get out of Angard alive.

  ‘Treasure. Valuable treasure,’ was all Dragmall would say. ‘Treasure Briggit has taken.’

  ‘And if she’s been here, taking the treasure,’ Else breathed, ‘then she knows how to get in here.’

  ‘Yes.’ Dragmall wrapped his arm around Else, pulling her close. ‘Yes, I’m afraid she does.’

  The Followers were on board, still dressed in their damp and dusty black robes, shackled in the iron fetters, spread out amongst the fleet.

  Waiting for Jaeger.

  Eadmund frowned, knowing how possible it was that Jaeger was going to do something catastrophic on his way back to Hest, but he felt the need to remain behind for another day. He wanted to ensure that they were leaving the city under control. That no Followers were hiding, planning to launch another attack, hoping to reclaim the Helsaboran throne for Briggit.

  Briggit was not inclined to help him as he dragged her around each ship, looking over the shackled Followers who stared up at their queen with a mix of fear and anger as they sat slumped against the gunwales, guarded by Hestians with swords; hulking, dull-eyed warriors who didn’t need swords to hurt them. A Follower shackled in iron would simply sink if he or she were tipped over the side, unable to do anything to save themselves. ‘There are hundreds,’ she grumbled, her eyes on Sabine and Lillith who were wedged into the throng of huddled Followers, watching her. ‘I cannot tell you if everyone is here! How could I?’

  Jaeger snorted. ‘You expect us to believe that? Perhaps you’d like to join them? Sail back to Hest with me? I have
room.’ His blood-shot eyes were suddenly alive with interest, lingering on her breasts.

  Briggit ignored him, waiting for Eadmund to intervene.

  He didn’t. ‘Perhaps Jaeger’s right? If you’re not prepared to help, why should I keep you away from him?’

  ‘I doubt Draguta would be impressed to hear that.’

  ‘I doubt Draguta would be impressed to hear that you hid your Followers from her.’

  Briggit suddenly realised that she hadn’t seen Morana Gallas.

  She inclined her head, wanting Eadmund to lead her away from Jaeger, which he did, gripping her arm. ‘There is one place you could check,’ Briggit murmured. ‘If anyone was hiding, perhaps they hid there? It’s a secret place, beneath the city. I could... show you.’

  Eadmund didn’t trust her, and his nod was a reluctant one. ‘Alright, show me.’ And turning back to Jaeger, he waved a hand. ‘I’ll see you in Hest!’

  Jaeger glowered at him before turning around, heading for his helmsman, happy to think that he would be without Eadmund for at least four days. He would arrive back in Hest, the glory of their victory and Draguta’s attention all his to claim.

  Draguta turned away from the map table towards Amma, Meena, Brill and Evaine, curious as to why only Jaeger was at sea but pleased that he was bringing shiploads of Followers to her. ‘We must organise a grand feast to honour our conquering kings and their doomed prisoners! And we must look the part, all of us!’ She glanced at Meena and Brill, unable to hide her distaste. ‘Well, not all of us, but Evaine and Amma, you must look your best. And Brill, you will do something about this hall. Never has a king been forced to reside in such a durgy pit of mediocrity! Except for Eadmund Skalleson, of course,’ Draguta smiled, striding towards the entrance. ‘Though having seen Briggit Halvardar’s palace of gold and marble, we must make an effort, mustn’t we? Perhaps that wretched tailor can whip up some new curtains? There must be something we can do to improve this heap of rocks!’ She was far ahead of them already and realising it, Draguta spun around, her eyes snapping from one face to the next.

  ‘Meena, you will take Amma back to the tailor’s. See what can be done about another dress. Something more festive this time. More elegant. That creation is...’ She ran her eyes over Amma’s figure, which was still being squeezed by the pretty lilac dress. ‘Plain. Have him return you to the castle when he’s done. He can bring samples for the new curtains. Evaine, you will come with me. We must think of how we are going to welcome Eadmund home. He has done well... so far. And we must reward him for his loyalty. Show him the path forward. How vital he is to what will happen next.’

  Evaine’s mood lifted, her eyes more alert as she followed after Draguta, who, with a few urgent strides, had already turned down the corridor.

  Meena and Amma looked at each other with resignation as they headed for the castle doors and Brill just waited in the hall, not knowing who to follow.

  ‘Hurry!’ they heard Draguta bark as she headed for the kitchen. ‘Hurry up, my little snails!’

  Meena shuffled alongside Amma who was walking quickly, wanting to get far away from Draguta and Evaine. She knew Amma was talking to her, but she was thinking about her dream. She hadn’t seen Draguta’s ring again, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to either. Ballack had taken the dusty boxes away from the hall after the attack on Helsabor, but she doubted that Draguta would have had them returned to the catacombs. She would have kept a treasure like that with her. Up in her chamber. Meena did not doubt that it was up in her chamber.

  But how could she get in there without being seen?

  And if she got away from the castle, where would she go?

  Sighing, Meena reached out to tap her head, quickly stopping herself, her hand in mid-air.

  ‘Meena?’ Amma turned to her, not having had a single reply to any of her questions. ‘Are you alright?’

  Meena nodded quickly. ‘Yes, but we must hurry. Draguta wants us to hurry!’ And grabbing Amma’s hand, she led her towards the markets, determined to leave all thoughts of the ring and Jael Furyck behind.

  Aleksander had left Jael behind in the hall, arguing with Beorn, which was nothing new, he smiled to himself as he knocked on Hanna’s door.

  ‘Come in!’

  He was pleased to hear how strong her voice sounded, and when he walked inside, even more surprised to see her sitting at the table all alone. ‘Where’s Astrid?’ he asked, suddenly nervous. They hadn’t been truly alone since Tuura.

  Hanna didn’t appear bothered by that. ‘Helping Ayla. Preparing their wagon.’

  ‘And your servant?’ Aleksander couldn’t remember the woman’s name, though she had a memorable face, always scowling at him, trying to shoo him out the door.

  ‘Marta? She hasn’t been here since Astrid came to stay.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Aleksander was standing awkwardly near the table, and Hanna sensed how ready he was to run for the door. ‘You could sit down,’ she suggested. ‘If you wanted to?’

  He nodded, taking a seat opposite her, adjusting his sword, struggling to sit still.

  Hanna poured small ale into an empty cup and passed it to him. ‘You’re leaving in a few days, then?’

  Aleksander took the cup. ‘Trying to.’ He smiled, thinking about Jael, then blinked, realising that he was sitting with Hanna. ‘There’s still a lot to do.’

  Hanna looked worried, her smile disappearing for the first time since he’d arrived. ‘It will be dangerous, fighting Draguta and that book. So very dangerous.’

  ‘It will. But there’s no choice. It will be dangerous here too, I’m afraid. We all need to fight this in our own way. Every one of us.’ Aleksander’s eyes were on his ale as he spoke, and he was surprised when Hanna grabbed his hand.

  ‘I nearly died,’ she almost whispered. ‘I thought I would. I... had all these feelings. Saw things. My whole life rushing before my eyes. Memories coming and going.’ Her head was down, looking at his hand, and then she sat up, staring at him. ‘I saw you.’

  Aleksander was holding his breath. He didn’t know what to say.

  ‘I saw you in Tuura. I remember that. I wanted to see you again. I remember that too.’

  ‘What happened in Tuura... it was...’ Aleksander stopped and took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I was... lost. Still am.’

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Some days. Other days the path is clear, but most days I don’t know where I am or where I want to be.’

  ‘Or who you want to be with?’ Hanna prompted shyly.

  Aleksander stared at her, suddenly aware of voices outside the door. Familiar voices.

  Marcus’ voice.

  He pulled his hand away. ‘I should be going. I’ll come again, before we leave.’ Hanna looked disappointed, and Aleksander felt guilty, cross with himself for always sticking one toe in the water before pulling it out. He was confusing her as much as he was confused himself. He stood quickly, moving towards her. ‘I want to come back,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘To see you.’

  And then Marcus was there, and Aleksander’s cheeks were flushed and so were Hanna’s and Marcus was looking from one to the other with a pair of stern eyebrows, wondering what he had just walked in on.

  Ayla was pleased with the wagon. Under Beorn’s supervision, a wooden roof and sides had been added, a door and a window too, with steps that could be taken out to help them dismount. There was enough space for small short beds. A fire. Stools to sit on. Shelves even, where they would store their jars and sprigs of herbs. Bandages and salves too.

  Bruno was standing beside her, and he was far from pleased, Jael could tell. ‘I’ve assigned four men to guard the wagon at all times. They will walk alongside it. Plus the driver. They’ll all keep Ayla and Astrid safe.’ Jael found it hard to talk so absolutely, especially with the constant presence of that voice teasing her, twisting her words so that she was struggling to believe anything she said. Bruno frowned so intensely that Jael worried that he could hear them. ‘
Their job is to stay with the wagon, whatever happens. To get Ayla and Astrid to safety. To protect them while they try to help us,’ she added, her words fading into a deafening silence.

  ‘Bruno.’ Ayla slipped her arm through his, trying to coax a smile out of him, though all her thoughts were on Briggit and Draguta and her fear that a simple wooden wagon would be useless against either of them. ‘This is the best we can hope for. I have to go to Hest. Jael needs my help. I can’t stay here and hide under the bed with you. Not this time. I need to do something.’

  Bruno nodded. ‘I know. And I agree, you can’t hide from this. Neither of us can. But I want to come.’

  Both Jael and Ayla were surprised by that.

  ‘You do?’ Ayla stood back, staring at him.

  ‘Of course I do,’ Bruno insisted. ‘Stock that wagon with arrows. With swords and axes. And me. I’ll be in there too. I will protect you. I may not be able to walk far, but I can use a bow, and, if it comes to it, I can protect you with a sword too. I can hold off anyone long enough for you to do your work.’

  Ayla smiled, and so did Jael. She wasn’t about to say no. She needed to keep Ayla safe. Ayla, who would hopefully be able to see what was coming before she did. ‘It sounds good to me,’ Jael grinned. ‘As long as you’re not a snorer. You’re going to be rather close in there!’ She turned as Ivaar came up to her with Aleksander, who had decided to watch the fight.

  ‘Ready?’ Ivaar asked, trying to avoid looking at the Adeas.

  Jael nodded, eager to get Ivaar away from Bruno who didn’t need the distraction of trying to kill him. She peered at Aleksander. ‘Coming to offer your advice, are you?’

  ‘On ways not to kill Eadmund?’ Aleksander laughed. ‘Not likely.’ And he fell in beside Jael and Ivaar as they left the wagon and the frowning Adeas behind. ‘But if you’re looking for how to kill him... I could help you with that.’