Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  Eadmund was hesitant as he approached Briggit’s door. He hadn’t enjoyed any of the celebrations he’d endured in Hest – not a single one of them – and this one, Draguta had promised, would be the greatest of all.

  He knew what she was planning, and he felt sick at the thought of it, though Briggit and her Followers were no victims. They would hurt and kill them all if released. At least that was what Draguta had said. He sighed, reaching for the door handle, realising that it was nothing to do with him either way. He had done what she requested – conquered Angard, captured the Followers – and now there was only one thing left to do before he’d be allowed to leave for the islands.

  Just one more thing, he tried to convince himself.

  ‘You look handsome,’ came the familiar voice behind him.

  Eadmund spun around with a frown. Evaine confused him. She was the mother of his son, and as much as he knew that she was a manipulative witch, he couldn’t help but see Sigmund when he looked in her eyes. ‘You’re going downstairs?’ Eadmund wondered, noticing how different she looked from the girl who had followed him around on Oss. Evaine had always been beautiful, but now she appeared elegant in a way that he wasn’t sure suited her.

  ‘Yes, Draguta insisted I come. Though, I would rather not have to endure it. I’d much rather be at home.’

  ‘Home?’ Eadmund was surprised. ‘You mean Oss? You aren’t really dressed for Oss.’

  ‘This?’ Evaine looked down at her new silvery-blue dress, feigning distaste. ‘Draguta chose it for me. I imagine she thought I would embarrass her if I wore my own clothes, though it is too much for me. Not my taste at all.’

  The torches along the walls burned low and Eadmund was struggling to see Evaine’s eyes as she moved her head around, fussing with her hair. ‘Well, I hope you enjoy your evening.’ And he turned the handle.

  Evaine blinked. ‘You could walk me downstairs? We could go together?’ she suggested, working to keep her voice light. ‘It might make it easier for us both.’

  Eadmund nodded. ‘Yes, alright. I just need to collect the queen first.’ And disappearing inside Briggit’s chamber, he left a disappointed Evaine staring after him.

  Disappointed but hopeful, for Eadmund was still talking to her.

  She smiled, fingering her hair, waiting for him to return.

  Draguta stood on the castle steps, flanked by guards and flaming torches, welcoming her guests as they made their way around the sizzled mess of sun-stricken Followers who lay and sat in the square, enjoying the darkness. She was amused by the horrified faces of the ladies, their noses in the air, frowns digging deep canyons into their sagging faces; the confusion in the eyes of the men whose arms they gripped; merchants she recognised; guildsmen; lords.

  ‘Wait until you see the entertainment I have in store!’ she said to one. ‘You must try the mead, ’ she told another. ‘Have you met the queen?’ she wondered, nudging Jaeger forward to introduce his wife.

  Amma looked perfect. And Jaeger stood powerfully beside her, behaving like a king. Draguta was pleased to see it, her red-lipped smile genuine and wide, but then another cry of pain, followed by a kick from one of the soldiers, and her smile slipped, doubts starting to nag her.

  She had made her plans.

  Death to the Followers. Death to The Following.

  They would all be ash come sunrise.

  But Briggit’s words were whirling around her mind in a completely unexpected way.

  ‘Welcome!’ she exclaimed as another bemused couple mounted the steps. ‘Don’t you look so... quaint.’ And turning her attention away from the Followers, she ushered her guests inside, wanting to see how Meena was coming along with her preparations.

  Meena was working faster than she had in her life. The stink of Draguta’s potions and the stuffiness of her chamber had her gagging as she worked, her sweat-stained dress stuck to her back, her hair limp and plastered across her forehead. She had ground the long list of ingredients for Draguta’s ritual into a thick paste, adding it to four enormous bowls of blood that were now waiting by the door. Draguta would come soon, she knew, so she was racing to make another dose of her own potion, just to be sure that it was working. She didn’t even want to think about how to get the ring until she knew that it was working.

  Gulping, Meena glanced at the door, worried that Draguta would throw it open at any moment, and discover what she was doing. She had to finish chopping the angelica quickly, then she could drink it.

  And then a knock on the door had Meena yelping in fright.

  ‘I would like to see them,’ Briggit muttered as Eadmund led her down the stairs towards the entranceway.

  ‘What? Who?’ He had been thinking about Jael. He wasn’t really listening.

  ‘My Followers. To say goodbye. Before Draguta kills them.’

  Eadmund stopped on the last step, looking down at the tiny queen, oblivious to Evaine who stumbled to a stop behind them. ‘Well, that would be up to Draguta. It’s nothing to do with me. Or you.’

  Annoyance flashed in Briggit’s eyes, intensifying as Jaeger approached, almost dragging his wife with him.

  ‘Isn’t that Evaine’s dress?’ Jaeger laughed, looking Briggit over, eyes on the straining bodice of the finely embroidered golden gown. ‘I remember it well.’

  Evaine glared at Jaeger who glared at Eadmund, daring him to try something.

  Eadmund bit his tongue, watching Amma who was wishing she could disappear back to her chamber. Seeing how frightened she looked cooled his anger. He couldn’t change what Jaeger had done. And while Draguta wanted Jaeger alive, there was nothing he could do to make him pay.

  ‘I think you’re referring to another dress,’ Evaine snapped. ‘I burned the one you ripped off me. I was never going to wear that again!’

  Jaeger looked as though he’d been spat on.

  Briggit smiled, though she did not feel happy about anything, except, perhaps, the look on Jaeger’s face.

  Amma blinked, horrified.

  Ignoring them all, Eadmund motioned towards the hall. ‘Shouldn’t we be in there? With your guests?’

  Jaeger clenched a fist, anger bubbling inside him like water, flooding his veins. But, thinking about the book, and how unlikely Draguta was to let him anywhere near it if he laid a hand on her precious Eadmund, he stood aside. ‘We should. Come on, let’s go and start the festivities!’

  Meena hurried to stow the bowl of potion under her bed, standing up, trying to still her trembling hands before she opened the door.

  To Ballack.

  She almost fell over in relief. ‘Yes?’ she panted.

  ‘Draguta sent me with a trolley,’ he mumbled, looking down at the small wooden cart he had taken from the kitchen. ‘For the bowls. She said it would not make such a mess.’

  Meena frowned. ‘But what about the stairs?’

  Ballack looked puzzled, his mind not as quick. ‘Stairs?’

  ‘How will you get it down the stairs?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that,’ he grunted dismissively, wiping a hand across his flat nose. ‘Now, hold open the door, so I can come inside.’

  Meena nodded, grabbing the door, hoping she had shoved the bowl far enough under the bed for it not to be seen.

  ‘We have some time before the dream walk,’ Edela yawned. ‘You are all welcome to have a little sleep. I can wake you.’

  Biddy appeared ready to nod as she caught Edela’s yawn, but she shook her head. ‘No, no, you look wearier than all of us combined. We’ll wait up together, won’t we, girls? We don’t want to miss out on you seeing Jael.’

  Ontine had lost some of her shyness as the dream walk approached, and she was full of questions. ‘But will you actually be with her? Jael? I don’t understand how it works.’

  Edela smiled, wiggling her toes which had gone to sleep. ‘We are a version of ourselves in our dreams, aren’t we? But we are not really there, not experiencing it in our physical body. So what Jael will see is me, as she imagines me
to be. Will I be there? Only in spirit. I will go into a trance. And that trance will send me into the dream realm.’

  Ontine looked impressed. ‘And how will Jael know it’s not just a dream?’

  ‘Well, because it won’t be the first time I’ve visited her. And she’s a dreamer. She will know. You’ve nothing to worry about there. We just need her to be dreaming. That’s the key. Nothing will work unless she is asleep.’

  ‘You look ready for bed!’ Aleksander grinned, knocking his shoulder into Jael’s, one eye on Karsten and Thorgils who had their heads together with a couple of Beryth’s warriors. He wasn’t drunk, but he was enjoying the night; all of them pretending that something wasn’t lurking outside the hall doors; pretending the people they loved weren’t in danger in Andala.

  It felt nice to pretend.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jael said, trying not to yawn. ‘I want to go outside. See how Ayla and Astrid are doing in their wagon. Check on the horses.’ She frowned. ‘It worries me that Draguta went after the animals in Andala. She’s playing games. For her it’s all a game, I suppose. I just wish she’d go after me. Leave everyone else alone.’

  Aleksander’s face was suddenly serious, all of his attention on Jael now. ‘And if she killed you? She wouldn’t be finished, would she? You can’t win this fight on your own, Jael. Not against Draguta and the Book of Darkness.’ He lowered his voice, leaning close to her ear. ‘And that ring. You need us. You need all of us.’

  Jael shrugged. ‘Maybe I do. Though by the size of that man Karsten’s about to fight, I may have one less of you come tomorrow.’ She took a sip of mead, feeling strange, as though she was slipping away, removing herself. Taking herself to a place where she could make hard decisions.

  Draguta had all of the power for now, and likely till the end.

  She thought of her baby, Lyra. Her helpless little baby.

  Draguta had all of the power for now.

  But that wouldn’t keep her safe forever.

  ‘Done already?’ Draguta was impressed as Meena unloaded the last bowl from Ballack’s cart. ‘That was a good idea of mine, wasn’t it? We do need so much for tonight’s fun, and I remember how sloppy you are, Meena Gallas. Like a drunken duck as you waddle behind me, dripping my precious potions all over the ground.’ She eyed Ballack sharply before glaring at Meena again. ‘I don’t want any spilled, do you understand me? Not a drop! I want every last bit of that potion. We are going to cast a circle, you and I. A circle around those Followers. And while my guests are enjoying themselves with their king and queen, we shall be preparing the entertainment!’

  Draguta blinked, that odd feeling returning again.

  It was unsettling, unfamiliar, as though she was unwell. But quickly dismissing that notion, she straightened her spine and strengthened her voice. ‘Hurry up, my girl. I want you right in front of me so I can give you a sharp kick if you walk too slowly!’

  The Vallsborgian warriors were not playing the game.

  Both Karsten and Ivaar had been returned to their bench, bloodied in defeat.

  Frustrated.

  Jael frowned at them both. ‘Hope you can still see to save yourselves when Draguta sends her creatures tonight! I’ll be too busy trying to save those not stupid enough to risk an injury!’

  ‘We were hardly fighting,’ Karsten grumped, feeling his face. ‘A bit of grappling isn’t going to get us hurt.’

  ‘Yet you’re bleeding all over your tunic, and Ivaar’s eye is closing up.’

  Neither of them said anything.

  Jael stood. ‘Well, I only hope most of you are standing in the morning. Or whenever Draguta decides to attack us!’ And squeezing past her men, she made her way towards Beryth who was deep in conversation with Rork Arnesson. ‘I’ll head off now,’ she said. ‘I want to check on my men. Make sure they’ve got a good understanding of who’s on watch when.’

  Beryth nodded, cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the packed hall, or perhaps, Jael realised with a smile, perhaps it was Rork’s company? She looked around as Fyn approached, yawning, before turning back to Beryth. ‘Make sure you guard the hall. Lock and guard it all night long. Stay alert. You need to keep your children safe in here.’

  That woke Beryth up. She glanced at her eldest daughter, Fritha, a confident young woman who had been serving mead all night long, catching the eye of a few of the Brekkans. Fyn included. ‘We will. Don’t worry. We’ll lock ourselves in tight.’

  Jael grabbed Fyn’s arm. ‘Come on, walk with me. We’ll run our eye over the horses. Check the ramparts.’

  Fyn nodded eagerly, happy to get away from Karsten and Thorgils who were trying to lure him into a fight.

  ‘See you in the morning!’ Jael called out as she headed for the doors. ‘Hopefully!’

  There were a few jeers, but they quickly faded into low murmurs as their queen slipped away.

  Hopefully.

  30

  Amma couldn’t stop staring at Eadmund who had spent the evening trapped between Evaine and Briggit. Draguta had wanted her prisoner to take centre stage for some reason, so she had placed her at the high table, keeping a close eye on her, enjoying how Briggit had to eat with her hands bound in the iron fetters.

  Briggit didn’t appear bothered. She held her head up like a queen, ignoring those who peered at her, curious about this woman who had ruled the hidden Kingdom of Helsabor. They had barely heard of her, so quick had her rise been. So sudden her fall.

  ‘Would you like to go and sit on Eadmund’s lap?’ Jaeger snarled, bending towards Amma, his cracked lips near her ear. ‘You seem more interested in him than your own husband tonight.’

  His voice was a sharp rebuke, louder than the other voices at the table and Amma sat back, embarrassed.

  Eadmund heard him.

  As did Draguta, who, after finishing her circle on the square, had taken her place at the high table, waiting while her guests ate their meals. She scowled at Jaeger before turning to her prisoner. ‘You did not eat enough, Briggit dear. I do not require food myself, but a mere mortal like you must eat.’

  ‘For what purpose?’ Briggit wondered dully. ‘So you can set fire to me? Are you hoping to fatten me first, like a suckling pig? Eat me once you’re done?’

  Draguta laughed. ‘You think I want to burn you too?’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, Briggit, but I have something much more enjoyable planned for you.’ And leaving Briggit to wonder what that might be, she stood, goblet raised. ‘Now that you have eaten the finest of meals prepared by the most accomplished of cooks, it is time to head outside for a little night air and some entertainment! Come along, come along! Feel free to bring your goblets with you. I shall have my slaves serving you out there. And we have seating too. It shall be a sight to behold, I promise!’

  Briggit felt sick, and reaching her bound hands towards Draguta’s dress, she grabbed hold of it. ‘Please, don’t do this. Please. You are making a mistake. Don’t do this!’

  Draguta turned to sneer at her, but something in Briggit’s eyes made her stop.

  And pause.

  Her goblet in mid-air.

  Jael sent Fyn on his way after she found Tig.

  It was never good to form an attachment to an animal, she told herself. It was never going to end well, though she couldn’t deny that she’d always preferred the company of her horse to that of most people.

  Resting her head against Tig’s cheek, she stroked his wiry mane. ‘Stay safe, my friend,’ she whispered. ‘And fight. You have to fight. Whatever happens, I will try and save you.’ Standing back, Jael held out her hand, watching while he gobbled up an apple she’d taken from the hall.

  It was a still night.

  Fires glowed around the field, voices murmuring in the distance, the groan of whetstones sharpening blades, the occasional shout. A subdued night.

  They were all waiting.

  Jael had thought about taking up Beryth’s offer of a proper bed in the hall, of stabling Tig with her horses, but she had wan
ted to be outside the fort with her men. Not bringing trouble to Beryth’s door.

  ‘Sleep well, Jael.’

  It was Ayla, walking with Bruno. They had not gone into the hall, wanting to take some time alone together as Ayla rummaged through Vallsborg’s gardens, seeing what plants she could find that might come in handy. They had eaten in the wagon with Astrid before going for a walk through the field, just the two of them.

  ‘Sleep well.’ Jael turned away from Tig, grateful for the bright moonlight which would hopefully remind her exactly where Aleksander had pitched their tent. They would be sharing it. Taking turns keeping watch.

  Jael yawned, her shoulders tense, finally ready for bed.

  Draguta waited while her guests made their way out to the square to take their seats. Meena was hovering near the bottom of the castle steps by the cart, Brill beside her. Both of them waiting to be called upon by Draguta. Ballack too.

  But Draguta was busy talking to Briggit Halvardar.

  Too busy to notice that they were there.

  ‘I have promised an event. A grand show,’ Draguta insisted, hissing as she glared down at Briggit. ‘For all the sense your argument may make, I have promised my guests a grand show!’

  Briggit could feel a change, a hint of the wind turning, and she raced towards it. ‘You should still have one, of course. But as a warning. A threat. You do not need hundreds to die to achieve that aim. And besides, that can be cumbersome, can’t it? Having to contend with so many people? But what if you killed a handful. Say... ten?’ Her eyes were glowing with fervour now. ‘It would still be the spectacle you need, but you would also demonstrate how merciful you are. An admirable quality in a queen, wouldn’t you say? Especially one who wished to be beloved by her people.’

  Draguta’s eyes were up, looking at Meena who dropped hers immediately. ‘Mercy? You think those scurrilous Followers deserve mercy?’