Vale of the Gods

by A. E. Rayne

  ‘Oh.’

  Raymon was a serious boy, Jael realised, though he appeared to have aged five years since they had last seen each other. Even the hair on his face looked to have thickened into something resembling a beard.

  A man came to join them. He reminded Jael of Gant, which gave her a good feeling.

  Raymon introduced him. ‘This is Soren. The new head of my army. A man I can trust.’ He smiled confidently, though he wasn’t entirely sure if that was true. Soren was a man with a solid reputation, but he had thought the same about Tolbert. Memories of Garren Maas’ betrayal started to stir, of his mother’s death too, and he swallowed, trying to bring himself back to Vallsborg. ‘We don’t have as many men as I’d imagined, I’m afraid. I’ve left a solid garrison back at Ollsvik.’ He glanced at Soren. ‘We thought it was important to protect the fort.’

  Jael nodded. ‘It is. We’ve done the same. We’ll be picking up warriors as we march down to Hest, don’t worry. Word has been sent. Everyone will be required to turn out their best to help us defeat Draguta.’

  Raymon looked relieved. ‘I wouldn’t mind something to eat,’ he said, his eyes on the smiling red-cheeked woman who emerged from the hall, a gaggle of children hanging off every limb. She didn’t appear to notice them as she bustled forward, her bright eyes fixed on the new arrival.

  Another king to accommodate, Beryth sighed. Another army.

  Vallsborg would be bursting at the seams for sure.

  ‘How about something to eat, my lords, my lady?’ she smiled. ‘The kitchen has been busy all morning, so if you’re hungry, please do come and get something to eat!’

  Meena was starving as she waited by the door for Draguta to finish talking to Brill. The breeze from the balcony was almost cool, and she looked longingly towards it, wishing she could stand in that open door. Her eyes drifted to Draguta who lifted her goblet, drinking deeply before setting it down beside her seeing circle.

  ‘What are you staring at?’ Draguta grumbled as Meena blinked herself upright. ‘Come closer. Come into the light. Hiding in the shadows won’t keep your lies from me!’

  Meena edged forward, dragging her boots across the flagstones. ‘I... I was just thinking that I was hungry. Thirsty. I didn’t have anything to eat this morning.’

  Draguta stared at her. ‘Why? What have you been up to? Skulking around the castle? Slipping in and out of Jaeger’s bed?’

  Meena forced herself to look in Draguta’s eyes. ‘He... I don’t have a choice.’ She thought about Berard, about how much she wished that she was with Berard instead of his violent brother.

  Draguta studied her face. ‘Well, you will keep Jaeger amused when he requests it. But out of sight. Far out of sight. I have no wish for anyone to see the two of you together.’ Try as she might, she couldn’t see anything more. Nothing she needed concern herself with, at least, not while there was so much to do. ‘This will be your task for today,’ she said, handing Meena a folded piece of vellum. ‘I shall need to bind the Followers to me. And Briggit too. I only hope the gardens can withstand such a pillage!’

  Meena crumpled the vellum into her purse, heading quickly for the door.

  ‘And when you’re done with that, I shall be sending you down to the catacombs with Ballack. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that little adventure!’

  Meena could almost see Draguta’s smile growing behind her as she reached a shaking hand towards the door handle.

  Jael drew a map on the ground to the right of the hall steps. The scratches in the dirt were enough for them to get a sense of the Vale of the Gods and how they could set up their warriors and weapons.

  ‘Will they wait for us, do you think?’ Raymon wondered. ‘Sit back and defend?’

  Seeing how earnest he looked, Jael tried not to laugh. ‘No.’ Shaking her head, she smiled kindly. ‘No, they’ll come out and attack us. They’ve no reason to feel defensive at all. Not with the strengths they have.’

  Karsten poked a stick around the marks that indicated the border between Brekka and Hest. ‘They won’t go through the pass. They’ll come out here. The pass is faster but too narrow. If they’re bringing siege engines or creatures of some kind...’ He paused, frowning at the thought of that. ‘They’ll come this way. Through the back of the vale. There’s a wood there, a stream, leading up to that big tree.’ He moved his stick to the other side of the vale. ‘This is where we’d come in. No point doing anything else. We can’t surprise dreamers.’

  Thorgils grinned. ‘Who knew you’d come in so handy?’ He didn’t have a stick, but he did have a cup of exceptionally fine ale, and he raised it to Karsten, getting a half-hearted scowl in return.

  ‘We’re talking as though we’re going to get there,’ Ivaar interrupted, quickly dampening everyone’s mood. ‘We’ve got days of marching ahead of us just to make it that far. They could come at us anywhere. Any time.’

  No one looked pleased to have received that piece of information.

  ‘Ivaar’s right,’ Jael said. ‘Sometimes you choose where you stand and fight, but often that choice is out of your hands. We’ll aim for the vale, but we need to be ready for whatever happens. Whenever it happens. We can’t imagine everything Draguta might do, but we can be sure she wants a fight, so we need to be ready to give her one.’

  The thought of going to war beside Jaeger turned Eadmund’s stomach. As an Islander, it didn’t make sense to him. Yet, he stood beside the Hestian king as they inspected the vast trove of weapons they’d brought back from Angard. Eadmund had never seen so many arrows in his life. Spears. Axes. Swords and shields. Yet to use them on his wife? His friends?

  He could barely bring himself to join in the conversation, but he had to. Jaeger’s thoughts did not extend far past his own plans for glory. ‘We’ve a lot of weapons, but what use are they without a solid plan?’

  Jaeger snorted. ‘After Angard? You really think Draguta is concerned with a plan? You saw what she did to that wall. Seems to me we just turn up and leave the rest to her.’ Though that didn’t sit right. He wanted to be a victorious king. A king with a reputation for crushing his enemies. Not a man who hid behind a dreamer, killing with magic. And he certainly wasn’t going to be content letting some half-dead beast or possessed bird kill Karsten and Berard.

  That was personal.

  The last of his brothers? That was not a fight he was going to miss.

  ‘They have dreamers,’ Eadmund reminded him.

  ‘We have dreamers,’ Jaeger laughed. ‘Now that Draguta has saved them. And we have the most powerful dreamer of all. Not to mention the Book of Darkness. I hardly think we need to worry about what they’ll do. We just have to go along. Shut our mouths and go along, and hope to find our own victories along the way.’ He studied Eadmund, sensing his unease. ‘Unless, of course, you’re planning to lose? Go against Draguta? Save your bitch wife?’

  Eadmund was impatient to leave. He wanted to talk to Berger, someone who would be interested in making actual plans. ‘I can’t. And nor can you. Ever. So smile all you like, Jaeger, but for the rest of your life, you’ll never be free. Know that.’ And he strode out of the armourer’s, heading down the road that led out of the city, towards the Crown of Stones, wondering how long he could walk before he found himself unable to go any further.

  Knowing that, eventually, he would have no choice but to turn back.

  Jael put the combined armies to work, practising how they would respond to an attack. An imaginary attack. Of anything they could think of.

  Astrid would keep a fire burning in the wagon. It seemed both impossible and dangerous but in the panic of an attack, fumbling with tinder and trying to set a brazier alight outside in a storm seemed like an impossibility.

  They would have water too. Swords, spears, axes. Catapults.

  Sea-fire.

  And they would have Ayla. She had taken notes from the Book of Aurea, and she was studying them intensely as she sat at a table opposite Bruno, who smiled at her, watching a deep frow
n of concentration furrow her brow. ‘The elderberry cake is good,’ he said, pushing a plate towards her. ‘Never tried it before, but it tastes good.’

  Ayla looked up, puzzled. ‘Cake?’ She shook her head, her eyes quickly back on the pieces of vellum again. ‘I’m just trying to concentrate. I don’t want cake.’

  Bruno wanted to help. ‘Can I do anything? Get you something?’

  ‘I’ve everything I need,’ Ayla muttered, though what she really needed was more time and more useful dreams. ‘Though I’m sure I’ll remember something I should have thought of when we’re under attack.’ She smiled, trying to hide her worries from him as she broke off a corner of the cake and popped it in her mouth.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ Bruno assured her. ‘When the time comes, you’ll know what to do.’

  ‘I keep thinking about Briggit Halvardar,’ Ayla mused, wanting to change the subject. ‘If her mother bought that scroll from you, then Briggit knows things about the prophecy. But what? What does she know about what will happen? What does she know that we don’t?’

  Bruno smiled at Astrid, who brought over a jug of small ale and a bowl of apples. ‘Well, whatever she knows is useless to her now if Draguta has defeated her, wouldn’t you say? It didn’t help her. She’s either a prisoner or dead.’ He took the jug and filled a cup, pushing it towards his wife. ‘Briggit isn’t the enemy we need to worry about now. You saw her defeated, didn’t you?’

  Ayla frowned, remembering the Briggit Halvardar she had seen in her dreams. That woman was not about to be defeated easily. Those eyes were calculating and clever.

  The eyes of a queen who always had a plan.

  ‘Tonight I will bind you,’ Draguta purred, circling Briggit who stood in the middle of her chamber, shackled hands resting in front of her dress, still thinking about Sabine and Lillith. ‘Then you will be mine. You will all be mine. My weapons. My dreamers.’

  Briggit wanted to spit on her, but her eyes were suddenly on the knife Draguta had slipped from her belt. She froze, the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

  ‘Did you think you could keep me out, Briggit? That you have some magical protection I cannot penetrate? Ha!’ And grabbing the top of Briggit’s dress near her right shoulder, she tore it off her arm, revealing a line of faded blue tattoos that ran all the way down to Briggit’s elbow. ‘That these little scribbles can stop me?’

  Briggit jerked away from her, but Draguta moved faster, her hand around Briggit’s neck, keeping her steady as she brought her blade up to the tattooed symbols, cutting across them, one after the other, blood beading quickly, trickling down Briggit’s arm.

  ‘One more to go!’ Draguta smiled, twisting her around again. ‘And then I’ll go and attend to your friends!’

  32

  Edela had worked on the circle around the fort all day. She was making it inside the walls because the outside was a mess of barricades and ditches; sharp stakes threatening any who came close. Though, she thought on reflection, it may have been easier than trying to go around the myriad of structures inside the fort itself. Over the past few years, thanks in part to Lothar’s poor management, new buildings had been constructed in a ramshackle manner, cramped together, many of them then crushed by the dragon. It was a real challenge.

  Sighing in frustration, and struggling with the nagging pain in her back, Edela straightened up, leaning on her staff. ‘Oh, to be ten years younger. Or fifty!’

  Biddy smiled, handing her a cup of water. ‘Drink this. The sun is hot today.’

  ‘It is. Even my toes are warm!’ And taking a quick sip, Edela waved at Gant who was approaching. ‘How is poor Gus?’ she wondered, noticing how drawn his face was.

  ‘Holding on,’ Gant said. ‘So far. The salves might be helping. And your quick stitching,’ he said to Biddy.

  ‘Anything to help.’

  ‘And how about you, Edela? Are you holding on? Do you want me to bring over a bench?’

  ‘Oh, yes, good idea. I was about to collapse onto the ground in a heap, though that won’t get me very far, will it?’ she smiled wearily. ‘It is taking a lot longer than I’d anticipated. In all my years in this fort, I’d never really considered how big it is.’

  Gant grinned. ‘Too big is the obvious answer, especially now with the army gone.’ He felt odd. Worried about Gisila and Gus, thinking about how to keep the fort safe, but mostly it was hard not being with Jael. With Aleksander and Axl. They needed him, and Gant was struggling to accept that he had made the right decision. He shook his head, trying to focus on what he had stayed behind to do. ‘I’ll grab you that bench, then I’d better go and find Bram. We’ve got to bring in as much wood as we can before you finish your circle. I want fires burning in the square day and night. We need to be prepared for whatever’s coming. Whenever it comes.’

  Edela stared into his weary grey eyes. ‘Thank you for staying, Gant. We are all glad for it. Glad you’re here. Though I don’t doubt that Jael is missing you.’

  Gant was surprised, embarrassed even. ‘Missing me? Not sure that’s true. Knowing Jael, she has everything under control.’

  Jael frowned, watching the battle of the shield walls from the top rung of the railings she was sitting on. ‘Don’t break them!’ she growled. ‘We’re not trying to wreck our shields! Just try to push each other back. Push!’

  Thorgils grumbled from behind his shield, crouching near the ground. ‘What does she think we’re doing in here?’

  Rork grunted beside him, shunting harder, knocking his Iskavallan opponent over.

  ‘Breach!’ Raymon called from beside Jael. ‘Fill the breach!’ And in a moment another Iskavallan had plugged the hole.

  ‘We need to change it around,’ Jael muttered, turning to Aleksander. ‘It may come to a battle of shield walls, but likely we’ll just need to defend whatever creatures come our way. Especially flying ones.’

  ‘Houses?’ Aleksander suggested.

  Jael nodded, jumping down from the railings and striding into the boggy stretch of field just before it rose to a generally flat platform. Thankfully, it was dry enough to train on. ‘Let’s make houses! Iskavallans, you attack my men! Twenty shields along each side! Three rows inside! Shields on top! Karsten! Thorgils! Rork! Ivaar! Take your men! One house each!’

  Axl came to join her, reminded of the Battle of Valder’s Pass and what it had felt like to be trapped in one of those long shield houses. ‘I’ll go join in.’

  ‘You should. You need the practice. Aleksander! You and Axl in the same house!’ And happy to see that Aleksander was heading for Axl, Jael walked back to Raymon. ‘Soren seems useful. Best you get him organised for shield houses when it’s your turn. It helps everyone to know who they’ll be with so it’s not a complete panic. Though I imagine it’ll be nothing but panic when we’re in the vale.’

  Raymon stared at Jael, noticing the smile on her lips, and the hardness in her eyes. ‘Jael.’ He glanced around nervously, but no one was near them. ‘If...’ He dropped his head. ‘I’ve never been in a battle. I... if something happens to me...’

  Jael felt sorry for him. No father. No experience. No mother either. And Getta for a wife. As impatient and tense as she was feeling, she tried to sound sympathetic. ‘I survived my first battle,’ she said, turning to her men who had scrambled their shields and spears into an impressive array of defensive houses which the Iskavallans were poised to attack. ‘All those men out there survived their first battles too. Some of them are grey-beards. Old enough to have more arm rings than could fit on both arms. Nothing to say you won’t survive just because you’re inexperienced. We’re all inexperienced to begin with.’

  ‘I suppose so. But if I don’t survive... I don’t know what will happen to my kingdom. To my son. He’ll be in danger, won’t he?’

  ‘Your son will be in danger whether you live or die, Raymon. It’s the nature of that kingdom of yours. But if something happens to you, don’t worry. Your son is a Furyck. We’re bound to care for him. We’ll do e
verything we can to get him onto the throne when the time comes, I promise.’

  Raymon nodded, his attention drawn back to the field as his men started to attack the shield houses. ‘Thank you, though I hope it doesn’t come to that. I want to go home. Be a real king. Make my fathers proud.’

  Jael stared at him, watching his skittish eyes dart around, hoping he was going to get the chance.

  Briggit’s arms ached, blood still leaking from the cuts Draguta had made across her tattoos. Her back was stinging too. She was bubbling with fury as she stood on the balcony, watching the guards grapple with the remaining Followers while Draguta took her knife to them; ripping their filthy robes, cutting through their symbols. Opening them all up to whatever spell she was going to curse them with.

  Binding them. Making them hers.

  But Draguta was not the only powerful dreamer, Briggit knew, grimacing as she lifted her bound hands up to her left shoulder, wanting to stem the flow of blood.

  Draguta was not the only powerful dreamer.

  Meena and Amma crossed the square, heading for the castle. Amma had been desperate to avoid Jaeger, so she had followed Meena into the winding gardens where she’d enjoyed a pleasant morning helping her gather Draguta’s herbs. It had reminded her of Edela’s garden and Andala, and she’d felt a lift just thinking about what it would feel like to be home again.

  Draguta strode towards them, white dress whipping around her in the warm breeze, eyes aflame. ‘I wasn’t aware that I had employed you as an assistant, Queen of Hest!’ she snapped, peering at them both.

  Amma shuddered to a stop just before her. ‘I asked to come along. Meena didn’t really want me to. But everyone is so busy, I... just wanted to help.’

  Draguta was distracted by a sudden panic as one of the Followers tried to escape. She turned around, pleased to see that two of the castle guards had rushed forward to tackle the white-haired old woman. Turning back, she frowned. ‘You may help as you see fit, of course. But do realise that you are the queen, not a servant of the queen.’ And impatient to finish what she had started, Draguta marched towards the wailing Follower who was still being restrained on the ground. ‘Brill!’ she barked at her servant who had emerged onto the steps, looking for her mistress. ‘Go and get Evaine! She will help Meena with the preparations while Amma goes to find her husband! I am tired of the lot of them. I will bind them all now!’