by A. E. Rayne
Raymon nodded, thinking about his son. ‘I will.’ He wanted to come back for Lothar. He knew that. And, settling into the thick sheepskin covering his saddle, he turned to the new head of his army, a steady, older man named Soren, who blew a few shorts bursts on his curled horn. ‘Goodbye, Getta.’
Getta tried to smile at her husband, but her frown wouldn’t budge. The drizzle was intensifying, and she was eager to get inside. ‘Goodbye.’
Marcus had brought Hanna to the hall to find some company that wasn’t his. He could see by the beaming smile on her face that she was enjoying herself, though he kept his eye on her as she chatted to Berard.
Berard was miserable, his head drooping as he considered his cup of ale with a heavy sigh.
‘You want to save Meena, don’t you?’ Hanna asked, trying to get through to him. ‘Prove yourself somehow?’
‘I...’ Berard didn’t know how to say it, but he looked down at his pinned sleeve with a sigh. ‘I only have one arm. Last time Meena saw me, I had two.’
Hanna’s eyes drifted to Aleksander who had just punched Jael in the arm, the two of them laughing with each other, joined now by Thorgils and Isaura. ‘I’m not Meena,’ she said, forcing herself to stop staring, ‘but if I were, I’d be thinking about how brave you were to try and save me by fighting Jaeger. You have one arm because you tried to save her, Berard. Because your violent, murderous, two-armed brother tried to kill you. If I were Meena, I’d be grateful. I’d want to see you again.’
Berard looked embarrassed before scrambling to his feet. ‘My mother...’ he mumbled apologetically, watching a sharp-eyed Bayla beckoning him in the distance. ‘I’d better go before she starts screeching. No doubt she’s looking for someone to find us a new cottage again.’ He rolled his eyes and headed towards his glowering mother, trying not to think about Meena.
Karsten quickly took his place, offering Hanna a plate with a slice of cake on it. ‘Something to make up for you having to endure my brother,’ he grinned at her.
Hanna looked bemused. ‘I wasn’t enduring Berard. Why are you so mean to him?’
‘And why are you so kind?’ It was a genuine question, Karsten realised. Few people had ever paid much attention to Berard, and Hanna’s interest in his brother had always struck him as odd.
‘You honestly don’t know why?’ She could hear Bayla in the distance, grumbling at Berard, pointing to her grandchildren, obviously needing some help. ‘Because he is nice. Have you never noticed? Never noticed how nice your own brother is?’
‘Well, when you’ve got three brothers, it’s easy for one to slip through the cracks,’ Karsten grinned. ‘Jaeger was always complaining, Haegen was always showing off, and my father was always yelling at all of us. Berard just hid in a corner hoping no one would blame him for anything.’
‘I’m almost jealous,’ Hanna admitted. ‘I never had a brother or sister, or a father growing up. And then when my mother died, I was completely alone.’
The smile left Karsten’s face. ‘You were?’
‘Until I found my father. I used to dream about how it would feel to be part of a family.’ Hanna had seen Aleksander leave the hall, and all of her attention was on Karsten now. ‘You should hold onto the ones you have left, Karsten. You’re lucky in more ways than you realise.’
Karsten was going to mutter something about her obviously not having spent enough time in his mother’s company yet, but he stopped himself. He felt the loss of Haegen, his father, Irenna too. His family was being chipped away at, and it made him feel oddly vulnerable. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be completely alone. ‘Well, if you’re looking to be part of a big family, you could come to Hest, look after all the Dragos children,’ he suggested with a grin. ‘They like you well enough.’
Hanna laughed, her eyes on her father, who kept watching her, waiting to see if she needed to go back to the cottage. But she didn’t. She had been enjoying the company and the conversation. She didn’t want to feel like an invalid again. ‘Well, if we get out of this mess I’m sure I’ll have to make a decision about what to do next, though I can’t imagine my father would want to go to Hest. I’ve a feeling he’ll want to return to Tuura, to see what can be resurrected there. It’s where he always wanted to be.’
Karsten tried not to look disappointed. ‘Well, the offer’s there. I’m sure Berard would like to have you around.’ He could see Nicolene approaching, and pushing himself off the bench, he winked at Hanna before turning and heading towards his wife.
Dragmall had been up early, hurrying around the city. There were abandoned houses everywhere; some left empty by those who had died in Draguta’s assault on Angard, others deserted by the men and women trying to flee the invading Hestians. He was able to find a new set of clothes for both of them, and despite being ill-fitting and reeking of smoke, they helped to change their appearance. Dragmall had filled a basket with food and wine, his satchel with more food, and then he’d found an abandoned wagon. Two horses. An old sword. And a stack of furs which he laid over everything.
The shield itself had symbols carved into it, and, using his knife as a chisel and tapping on it with his whetstone, he had added more; the same symbols as the tomb he had found the shield hidden inside; the place where the volkas had kept their most valuable treasure, protected with symbols that even dreamers couldn’t see past. Though he had not been surprised to find they were gone, knowing that those volkas had been betrayed by one of their own.
‘But how long will it take to get to Hest?’ Else wondered, wishing she was asking a different question. She was whispering while they waited to get through the narrow path the Hestians had cleared through the rubble, not wanting to be overheard by the soldiers who were checking everyone as they exited the city, looking for Followers.
‘I don’t know,’ Dragmall whispered back. ‘Days. Possibly five?’ He sat up straighter as a soldier approached, feeling his heart quicken.
‘Where are you going?’ the flat-nosed man asked gruffly.
He looked as though he’d been in a few fights, Dragmall thought, staring at the man’s squashed nose, trying to calm his mind. ‘To Kroll. My wife and I do not feel safe in the city. We wish to get to our daughter. To be reunited.’
Another Hestian had wandered down to check on their wagon, lifting the furs, rifling through the basket of food.
They looked old, the flat-nosed soldier thought, though that in itself was no free pass. There were a lot of old Followers, he knew. He’d helped secure them onto the ships himself. ‘And how do I know you’re not Followers looking to escape?’
Else almost bit her tongue. She gripped Dragmall’s arm, trying not to look suspicious, hoping they wouldn’t find the shield Dragmall had secured under the wagon, and kill them both.
‘Followers?’ Dragmall was dressed like a trader, he hoped. Or a farmer. A servant, even. He was wearing a faded beige tunic, a pair of tight, darker brown trousers; too short for him by far. He had on a wide-brimmed hat, though he tried not to slouch beneath it, not wanting to appear evasive. ‘They have all gone, haven’t they? No, we are most certainly not. Do we look like Followers?’ Dragmall smiled, turning to a clearly terrified Else.
Else shook her head. ‘We did not like the Followers. We’re glad they’re gone. We are just eager to see our daughter.’
The soldier who was ferreting through the wagon looked up suddenly. ‘What’s this? Come here, Sten!’
‘I didn’t know there was cake,’ Jael smiled, helping herself to some of the small ale in Hanna’s jug. ‘Looks good.’
‘It is,’ Hanna said, feeling awkward. Jael Furyck made her nervous.
Jael could tell. ‘I came for Berard. Thought I saw him with you earlier.’
‘Yes, but he left to speak to his mother.’
‘Oh.’ Jael was eager to leave and find him, but the sudden urge to say something to Hanna was strong. ‘I hope you’ll all be safe here when we’re gone. We’ve done as much as we can now to protect the f
ort. It’s never been more secure.’
‘I hope the same for you. That you all return, though that’s not likely, is it?’
Jael didn’t take a seat. She had just spotted Berard being grumbled at by Bayla, and she wanted to grab him before he tried to escape. ‘No, it’s not, but I’ll work hard to bring Aleksander back to you.’ She said it quickly, and it felt strange. So strange that she didn’t go on.
Hanna’s eyes popped open, her mouth following.
And then Jael was gone, with a flash of an awkward smile as she hurried to catch up with Berard.
Dragmall swallowed, squeezing Else’s hand. ‘Oh, that?’ He tried to keep his voice light as he turned around, but he could feel his right leg shaking against Else’s. He could hear the tremor in his voice. ‘That’s just a stick. For walking. I... struggle without it.’
The soldiers glanced at each other, then back to Dragmall and Else.
‘Looks like more than a stick to me,’ the flat-nosed soldier mused, his eyes on the tiny symbols running up and down the ancient staff he’d pulled out of the wagon.
‘I can leave it behind if you’d prefer,’ Dragmall suggested with a smile. ‘It’s not something I have a great attachment to. I can find another for sure.’
The soldier shook his head, laying the staff back in the wagon. ‘Keep it. And get moving. Looks like rain soon.’
Dragmall nodded, trying not to clap the reins hard. He didn’t want to appear in a panic or a hurry, though he was certainly eager to escape the city quickly. ‘Thank you. Good day to you both.’
Else bobbed her head, holding her breath as Dragmall nudged their wagon forward, listening to the groan of the wheels as it eased away from the broken wall.
Leaving Angard behind.
Marcus left Hanna in the hall under Biddy’s watchful eye, accompanying Edela back to her cottage, eager to speak to her alone. And though Edela was curious about what he wanted, Marcus didn’t say a word until he was sitting at her table unfurling a stack of scrolls in front of her.
‘I took as much as I could when we escaped the temple fire. It has taken some time to go through them all, though, what with Hanna being ill and the attacks on the fort. I did not give them my full attention for some time, but I’ve been studying them closely over the past few days, hoping to discover something useful.’
‘And?’ Edela’s eyes were on the first scroll. It looked ancient, its vellum a dark yellow, the sprawling texts cramped together in a style no longer used; almost impossible to read, especially for someone with her eyesight.
‘This interested me.’ Marcus pulled a stool around to sit beside Edela, leaning over the scroll, pointing to the bottom section where the text condensed even further. ‘It tells of a battle with The Following.’
Edela felt herself stiffen, blinking now.
Marcus ran his finger under a long line of text. ‘Six deranged Followers were hunted down by the noble Tuuran army under the command of Geras Arlund. The cornered Followers cast a dreamer circle of protection. A circle the army could not penetrate.’ Marcus looked back at Edela.
She was confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘The Followers did not allow themselves to be taken. They held that circle. It was not breached.’ Marcus turned back to the scroll, finding another passage. ‘Despite their concerted efforts, the circle remained intact. Geras’ soldiers employed arrows, fire, swords, and spears. They brought in skilled dreamers who knew dark magic, but the circle would not fall. The evil Followers killed every Tuuran but one, the very man who escaped to tell this tale to me.’ Marcus could sense that Edela wasn’t even breathing as he turned to her. ‘They were Followers from Helsabor. It is believed to be where Raemus hid. The Followers there were his most loyal servants.’
‘And you think they used his magic to make the circle?’ Edela’s eyes were searching Marcus’ face, trying to anticipate where he would go next.
Marcus nodded, shifting the scroll to one side, revealing another beneath it.
Edela’s attention was quickly drawn to a symbol near the top of the scroll. She reached out, touching it, following its intricate dark lines with her finger. ‘This symbol held the circle, didn’t it?’
‘It did.’
Edela’s finger was still on the symbol. ‘It is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It feels dark. Like Raemus.’
‘Perhaps Draguta knows of it? Perhaps it is in the Book of Darkness? She may be able to find a way through it.’
‘Or,’ Edela mused, ‘she may not...’
That night they gathered in the hall for the last time.
Thorgils felt sick, not wanting it to be the last time. He saw many familiar faces – eyes bright, beards wet, hands slapping backs – all of them feeling the same flutter of anticipation, the same fear that they wouldn’t come back.
That these goodbyes would be their last.
Swallowing, he turned to Isaura with a forced grin, but she ducked down to tend to Annet who was tugging on her sleeve, and he came face to face with Ivaar.
His smile faded.
‘A word,’ Ivaar muttered, two cups in his hands. ‘I’d like a word.’
Red eyebrows high with interest, Thorgils followed Ivaar to a table where they sat down, Ivaar passing him a cup of ale. Thorgils studied him with a frown, but Ivaar didn’t say a word. Eventually, Thorgils grew impatient. ‘And?’
‘We could kill each other, I know,’ Ivaar said, looking up, his eyes black and blue from the punch that had broken his nose. ‘Or perhaps once that was true. I’ve no appetite for it anymore. Not for that.’
Thorgils snorted, doubting it.
Ivaar shrugged. ‘I can’t change what you think. I’m not sure you know everything Morana Gallas did. Maybe you do...’ His voice drifted away as he lost focus, feeling uncomfortable.
‘I know some things.’
‘I... want you to look after my children,’ Ivaar said, eyes on his cup. ‘Raise them well. As Skallesons. As Islanders. I want you to give them a home if something... happens.’ His eyes were up, searching Thorgils’ face.
Thorgils gave nothing away, but he nodded. ‘I will.’
‘There’s nothing for them to be proud of,’ Ivaar added. ‘Nothing that I’ve done. But you could tell them about me. One day. Especially Mads. He’s so young. I don’t expect he’ll remember me.’
Thorgils gripped his cup, his shoulders tense. ‘Sounds as though you’ve already decided how things will go.’
Ivaar’s laugh was hollow. ‘For me? I think so. My luck left me long ago. When I was a boy. When my father went to Helsabor and met Eskild. Haven’t had any since.’
He sounded bitter, and Thorgils tried not to feel sorry for him, though with Ivaar being so pathetic, it was hard not to. ‘Well, I know a thing or two about luck, having lost Isaura to you for all those years.’
Their eyes met, and neither man knew what to say.
‘But,’ Thorgils went on, ‘then I got her back, so luck can change. If you hold on long enough, luck can change.’ His eyes moved past Ivaar to where Fyn and Bram were talking to Jael. ‘You never know what’s waiting around the next dark corner. I’ll look after your children, Ivaar. I’ll protect them with my life till the day I die, I swear that to you, but why not try holding onto some hope? We’re all going to need some of that soon, aren’t we?’
Jael watched Thorgils and Ivaar deep in conversation, and she smiled. Goodbyes had a way of bringing together the most unlikely couples. She turned back to Bram and Fyn who, she could see, were starting to warm to one another. Runa would have been happy to think that her death had brought them together; happy to know that she had left Fyn with a man capable of caring for and loving her son.
Eydis snuck up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. ‘Hello,’ she smiled.
‘Thought you’d gone back to the cottage with the puppies,’ Jael smiled back. ‘I haven’t seen them in some time.’
‘Biddy shut them in your chamber. She wanted to make sure they sle
pt with you tonight.’
Jael was pleased. ‘They won’t be happy, no doubt. I’d better take them a treat. You will take care of them, won’t you? Promise me.’
‘I will, Jael,’ Eydis reassured her. ‘You never have to ask.’ She could sense that Fyn was there, and she felt awkward, wanting to say something to him before the morning. Before it became a big rush and panic as everyone hurried to do all those things they’d forgotten about.
But she didn’t know what to say.
‘I hope you’ll stay safe, Eydis,’ Fyn said, beating her to it. ‘Bram’s promised to keep a close eye on the hall. He’s going to sleep here every night, aren’t you?’
His father nodded. ‘I am. Got my bed all set up too. Not just me either. I’ve organised an army to stay inside and protect you.’ He hoped he sounded reassuring, though his chest was still giving him grief, and he was struggling to feel confident in his ability to do much. Runa’s death haunted him, and he was finding it hard to forgive himself for that too.
Eydis did feel better knowing that Bram and his men would be staying in the hall. ‘I hope you’ll be safe too,’ she mumbled to Fyn whose attention had just drifted towards Ontine who’d arrived with her mother.
He didn’t answer her.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Ontine said shyly. ‘I was just wondering if you knew where Edela was? She asked me to come.’
Jael watched Eydis stiffen, and seeing the way Fyn’s attention had suddenly been consumed by Ontine, she wasn’t surprised. ‘I think she’s visiting Gisila. She’ll be out soon, no doubt.’
‘Thank you.’ And smiling shyly, Ontine followed her mother back into the crowd, Fyn’s head swinging around after her.
