Blood of the Raven: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 3)

by A. E. Rayne

  Arnon shoved him. ‘But you didn’t, did you? You got yourselves caught. Sold by slavers! You let your sister be stolen away when you should’ve been watching over her!’

  Magnus nodded, guilt burning in his chest like a hot fire. And just the thought of fire took him back to the cave where he’d sat with Jonas and Vik as they told him stories about their long battle to help Ake Bluefinn defeat the tyrant king, Jorek Vettel.

  They’d sounded so heroic to his ten-year-old ears.

  He hoped it was all true.

  And that they were coming.

  More than anything, Magnus hoped that Jonas and Vik were coming to kill his father.

  ‘Come on!’ Jonas growled impatiently. ‘Sun’s past its peak! We need to go!’

  Half the crew were still fussing about. Sigurd was nowhere to be seen.

  Bolli was still on board, barking instructions at Falki.

  Vik patted his friend on the back. ‘We’ll be underway soon, don’t worry. I’ll round everyone else up.’

  Jonas took a deep breath, though it did little to loosen his tension. ‘And where’s Ollo? He made a fuss about coming, and now where’s he gone?’

  Eddeth tripped over a rope, sprawling onto the deck with a yelp.

  Vik bent down to help her up. ‘I think we all might need to calm down. We’ll be no good to anyone if we can’t think clearly.’

  And nodding, Jonas took Eddeth’s other side, guiding her to a chest in the stern where she planned to sit with Stina. Aldo was getting his own bench as an oarsman – at least for a while. He’d never tried it before, but Eddeth had insisted he be given a chance, and she smiled at the boy as she took her seat.

  ‘We need you, Eddeth,’ Stina reminded her, slipping a hand through Eddeth’s arm, pulling her close. ‘More than anyone, we need you, so stay still. It won’t help Alys and the children if you fall overboard.’

  Eddeth had never been on a ship before, and her knees were almost knocking together with nerves. ‘No, no, that wouldn’t do at all.’ She sneezed, turning to Stina. ‘And if I do? Will they stop, do you think? Try to fish me out?’

  Stina remembered seeing Magda jumping into the frothing sea. No one had gone in after her. Men had looked over the bow, she remembered, but Magda had gone down quickly, and no one had thought they stood a chance of finding her. Or perhaps they hadn’t cared? ‘I’m sure they will,’ Stina assured her, blinking away the memory. ‘Though let’s not give them any reason to. You sit by me, and I’ll keep you safe.’

  ‘So will I,’ Ludo promised, walking up to them. ‘I have to get you back to Rigfuss. He was missing you, you know.’

  ‘Was he?’ Eddeth almost burst into tears. She felt untethered from every familiarity in her life, from every comfort and certainty. It was both exhilarating and deeply distressing. She didn’t know how to feel. And then she saw a glimpse of Alys’ face, with her bruises and her swollen eye. Eddeth remembered what Hakon had tried to do to her and what her horrible husband had done to her, and she forgot everything else. ‘Don’t you worry now, I’ll see Rigfuss again. I feel it in my bones! I’ll see Rigfuss and Ottby again, and so will Alys. Mark my words now, so will Alys!’

  Alys liked the feel of the rain hitting her skin.

  The raindrops were so heavy and icy that they hurt.

  It helped to concentrate on the pain on her face, not the pain in her heart. It helped her to stop thinking about all the things that wouldn’t aid her now.

  Arnon staggered back to her, and she was quickly panicking again.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he grumbled. ‘With your face up like that?’ He grabbed her head, pushing it down, sensing Magnus stiffen opposite him. And smiling, he slumped down beside Alys, hood dripping.

  Alys didn’t answer. With Arnon, it was always a terrifying game, trying to decide which move to make. One way would lead to pain, one way to a reprieve. Nothing was ever clear, though. Nothing was ever the same. She was always on edge, trying to read his mind.

  And then Alys blinked, realising that she could. She could hear what Arnon was thinking, what he was feeling. What he was planning to do.

  ‘I like the rain,’ she said, shivering.

  Arnon looked at his sodden wife as though she was mad. ‘No one likes the rain. No one. Something’s wrong with you if you enjoy shaking like a wet dog!’

  He was unsettled, Alys could tell. Unstable.

  And that made him dangerous.

  ‘Borr wants to go to Orbo. See if Lotta’s there.’ Arnon had thought that the goddess might stay with him, showing him the way to his daughter, but he hadn’t heard Alari’s voice since he’d left Slussfall. He didn’t know where to go.

  Alys blinked. ‘Borr?’

  ‘The helmsman. He wants to go to Orbo.’

  ‘Lotta’s not in Orbo.’

  ‘No? Then where is she, dreamer? What have you seen?’ It still amazed Arnon to think that he’d spent eleven years living with a dreamer without realising it. He almost didn’t believe it, wanting to find ways to make Alys prove it to him.

  Alys didn’t know. Her visions of Lotta had revealed little, and she had no experience of the North herself, so there was nothing she recognised in what she’d seen. ‘The man who took her, he’s with her still, I see that. They’re not on a ship now, but I don’t know where they are. A fishing village, perhaps? I saw a market, whalers.’

  ‘Sounds like Orbo.’ Arnon didn’t trust her. She wanted to save herself and the boy. He didn’t know if she cared about finding Lotta at all. But he did. Lotta was his favourite child, the only one he truly loved, and the thought that some old man had stolen her away?

  His blood boiled.

  ‘So unless you come up with a name, I’ll tell Borr to head for Orbo.’

  They walked back to the cottage the long way.

  Torsas was a small village, with a marketplace squeezed into one corner of the docks. The whole place stunk of fish and blood, and Lotta wrinkled her nose as she trekked through the mud. It had snowed in the night, but half a day’s busy traffic had turned it over, revealing the dirt beneath, and every path they walked down was just a cold, filthy mess.

  ‘They used to have boards here, I swear it,’ Ulrick grumbled, his boots sinking into the sucking mud. ‘Here, I’ll carry you.’

  Lotta nodded, reaching up for him. The mud sucked at her boots, too, trying to pull them off her frozen feet, and she felt relieved to be lifted into Ulrick’s arms.

  ‘I don’t know what to make of what you said. Makes no sense to me. Your father was dead. You and your brother both said as much. Now you’re saying he’s coming for you? Back from the dead?’

  It made no sense to Lotta either. ‘I thought he was dead. He looked dead. But then I started seeing him in my dreams. He was searching for me.’

  Ulrick shuddered, starting to wonder what he was doing, listening to a child. Children made up stories. They told lies to suit themselves – even a child as perfect as his daughter, Gala, he remembered wistfully. ‘And you don’t want him to find you?’ That was something, he supposed, pulling Lotta’s hood down over her face; holding it there to keep out the wind.

  ‘No! He can’t find me, Ulrick. He’s not a good man. He can’t find me!’

  She was genuinely upset, Ulrick could see, and whether she was telling the truth or not, it wouldn’t hurt to leave. His helmsman friend, Asger, had been growing impatient, concerned that The Freeze was coming. And if they found themselves frozen in, it was going to be an arduous journey overland to Orvala.

  ‘No, well, I don’t want him finding you either, but we’ll have to see how Bergit is. We can hardly leave while she’s ill.’

  Lotta grabbed hold of her hood, too, and she nodded. ‘But we must hurry. He’ll be here tomorrow!’

  Sigurd was finally on board, standing by Falki Grimsson, who was still being glowered at by Bolli.

  Bjarni put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, he’ll bring her back.’

  Bolli grunted, turning away,
wanting to get back to the fort to see how Holgar was. He’d been feverish when he woke, and Bolli felt worried about his old friend. He looked over his shoulder, raising a hand to Sigurd, taking one last look at his beloved Dagger.

  Sigurd waved to him before shifting his eyes to Reinar, who had climbed on board again and was talking to Jonas by the mast. He could see Elin watching from the piers, where she stood with Ilene, who looked unhappy at being left behind. Though there was no way he was letting her come along.

  ‘You’re sure you don’t need more men?’ Reinar asked, fidgeting with his cloak.

  ‘You’ve given us more than enough,’ Jonas assured him, wanting to get underway. ‘I’m grateful.’ And glancing around, seeing Elin, Jonas lowered his voice. ‘I don’t know what’s between you and my granddaughter, but something, according to Eddeth. According to my eyes as well. So if I were you, I’d think about that. Make a choice about what you want and stick to it, but don’t string anyone along, especially not Alys. She’s had enough heartbreak in her life, so I don’t want you giving her any more.’ Jonas felt uncomfortable lecturing anyone, knowing the mistakes he’d made, but still, it needed to be said, and knowing what had happened to Stellan, Reinar likely didn’t have anyone to say it to him now. ‘Elin’s your wife, and she deserves a husband who loves her, who’s loyal to her. So make your choice, Reinar. Make it and stick to it.’

  ‘Brother!’ Sigurd bellowed from down at the tiller, sensing that they were only waiting on Reinar to leave now. He glanced up at the sky, seeing a hint of sun. ‘It’s time to go!’

  And turning around, Reinar nodded, Jonas’ words ringing in his ears. He saw Vik making himself at home on one of the benches, eager to do a little rowing, and he smiled distractedly. ‘I hope you find them both. Lotta too. Tell Alys I...’ But Reinar saw his wife looking at him, and he didn’t go any further. Patting Jonas on the back, he headed for his brother.

  ‘You can’t come,’ Sigurd whispered, smile in his eyes, hand on his brother’s chest. ‘You can’t.’

  ‘Well, you’ve always wanted glory, I suppose, so go find it, Brother. But come back soon. Gerda will miss you.’ He winked at Sigurd, bringing him in for a bear hug. ‘Not to mention Ilene.’ Reinar felt his brother flinch, and enjoying the pleasure of that, he stepped back. ‘Find them, then come home. I’ve a feeling Ake will be calling on us both before long.’

  Sigurd was sure that his brother was right. ‘I will, don’t worry. I’ll be back before we’re all frozen in!’ He said it with a laugh, though he was well aware of how dangerous it was going to be up North as winter blew in.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Bergit sniped as she made the bed, barely glancing her husband’s way. ‘We can’t stay here another night. I won’t, Ulrick Dyre. I simply won’t! You promised me the grand city of Orvala, yet you’ve dumped me in this shithole.’ She eyed Lotta, who stared at her as though she was a ghost. ‘What? What are you gaping at, girl?’

  Ulrick looked much the same: mouth hanging open, eyes round with horror. ‘But you’re...’ He shook his head, utterly confused. ‘It’s as though you weren’t ill at all.’

  ‘Well, your silver went to good use for once!’ Bergit snapped, straightening up, eyes on the wooden bowl she’d been drinking from. ‘That old healer knew a thing or two about herbs. I feel better than ever. Ready to go!’

  ‘Go?’ Ulrick’s emotions tumbled like a boulder down a steep hill. Bergit had become so ill that his fears had been building for days, remembering how Gala had slipped away from him. Just a cough, that was how it started, and before he knew it, she was blue. Silent. Gone. ‘But I...’

  ‘Go and find that Asger. I’m sure he’s ready to put to sea again. A man like that can’t be happy forced onto land.’ Bergit bustled up to Ulrick, turning him around, pointing him back to the door. ‘The quicker you find him, the quicker we’ll be back at sea. You want that, don’t you? You want to go and find this new lord of yours?’

  Lotta stood beside Ulrick, still stunned, wondering who that old healer had been, for surely whatever she had done to Bergit was magic.

  4

  Reinar surveyed the square with a heavy heart, aware of how much mess there was to clean up and sort out. Ake would be back in Stornas making plans for their other enemies, and he had to ensure that Slussfall was secure.

  A faint cough had him turning around.

  To Falla Gundersen.

  She appeared as though out of a dream: clean white dress peeking out beneath a new blue cloak, dark hair shining, pretty face glowing.

  Reinar blinked, confused by the jarring vision. The fort was a smoky mess, filled with exhausted, wounded men and women, and yet Falla looked as though she was arriving for a grand feast.

  He just stared.

  Falla smiled, hurrying on despite Reinar’s awkwardness. ‘I was sorry to hear about Alys.’

  Reinar blinked, still struggling with his decision to remain behind. ‘Yes, well, hopefully, my brother can get her back quickly.’

  ‘I hope so. And Eddeth. I wasn’t surprised to hear that she’s a dreamer. She always acted like one.’

  ‘Did she?’ Reinar turned Falla around, encouraging her towards the hall, feeling the first spits of rain. He looked up, seeing the darkening clouds, wanting to check on Holgar, and find where Elin had disappeared to.

  ‘Of course! You never noticed?’ Falla lifted up the hem of her cloak, annoyed to discover that it was already filthy, though she quickly smoothed out her creased forehead with a gleaming smile. ‘How could you not have noticed?’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure Eddeth noticed herself, but at least she knows the truth now. It will help to have her on board.’

  Falla laughed, remembering how terrified Eddeth had looked as she’d waved goodbye. ‘If she can figure out what a dreamer is supposed to do. I don’t imagine it will come easily.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose it will.’ Reinar followed Falla up the steps, wondering what she wanted, for surely the effort she’d taken over her appearance was about more than a desire to feel clean. ‘And your husband? Is he recovering well?’

  ‘He is!’ Falla nodded enthusiastically. ‘He’s not a man who’s injured often, so he’s already back on his feet.’

  That surprised Reinar, who ushered Falla into the hall, where Lief was leaning on a wooden crutch as he checked on his wounded men. The Slussfall men were free to come and go as they liked. Lief had surrendered to Reinar, who knew that Ake needed a great army to defeat those who threatened them from above. So now was no time to be working against their own self-interest by killing or imprisoning perfectly able warriors.

  Seeing Falla smiling at Reinar Vilander, Lief sighed, and repositioning his crutch, he hobbled towards them.

  He looked paler than ever, Falla thought, fearing that he was going to embarrass them both by passing out. ‘You look so much better!’ she exclaimed joyfully, causing Elin to turn around in confusion. Ignoring her, Falla gave all her attention to Reinar. ‘As you can see, my husband cares more for his men than himself. An essential quality in a lord, don’t you agree? Not one Hakon Vettel possessed, I can assure you.’ She turned back to Lief, trying to encourage him towards a bench.

  Resisting his wife entirely, Lief held his ground, staring at Reinar.

  Reinar rubbed a hand over his beard, knowing how much he had to do before he could leave for Ottby. And he sighed. ‘I think it’s time we had a talk, don’t you?’ He turned to Falla with a polite smile and a clenched jaw. ‘Without your wife.’

  Ulrick was used to leaving his wife behind. He’d spent most of their marriage on the road, he was sure, for their long marriage was most memorable for its farewells and reunions. And yet, here, finally, they were going on an adventure together.

  Bergit almost smiled at him as they walked down the short pier into a bracing wind. It hit them with force, tearing at their cloaks, drilling into their ears, and no one could speak. Lotta was pleased about that, enjoying the noises in her own head. The voices. She
heard them often, though she wasn’t convinced that anyone was actually speaking to her. It was as though she could hear what was happening in the world, and sometimes, it was impossible to listen. What with Ulrick talking to her, and Bergit and Ulrick arguing, or Bergit snapping at her. It was impossible to hear what the voices were saying.

  But now, the whistle of the wind masked every other noise, and Lotta could hear a woman’s voice, sharp and cold. She spoke as though she was neither happy nor sad. As though she had no feelings at all. Sometimes, she laughed, a mean, nasty laugh, and Lotta shivered, knowing that she was laughing at her. It made her scared, and she thought of her mother, wanting to hear her gentle voice instead.

  The pier was icy, slippery, and Lotta gripped Ulrick’s gloved hand, afraid that she would fall over. Sensing it, he squeezed her hand, smiling down at her, and for the first time in a long while, Lotta almost felt safe. Whatever else he was, whatever he had done, Ulrick Dyre cared for her, and he would keep her safe.

  Safe from whatever was coming.

  She ignored that laughing woman, telling herself that Ulrick would never let anything happen to her.

  Eddeth wasn’t enjoying the sea.

  The waves rolled around them like liquid mountains, her stomach rolling with them. She wiped a frozen hand over her mouth, then down her cloak, before slipping her glove back on. ‘Oh, I wish I hadn’t eaten!’

  Sigurd grinned, handing her a waterskin. ‘Maybe something to drink would help?’

  Eddeth clamped her lips together, shaking her head, not uttering a word.

  He laughed, offering the skin to Stina, who shook her own head, feeling just as ill. The wind was fresh, and they were charging up the coast, Falki Grimsson looking happy as he slouched over the tiller. The rest of the crew sat against the gunwales, playing dice, sharpening weapons, happy to enjoy a respite from danger for as long as it lasted. No one knew where they were going or what they would face when they got there.