by A. E. Rayne
Lief shook his head, watching her move around the hall, which smelled less of sickness now and more like smoky lavender. She’d worked quickly to impose her will upon the kitchen staff and the old cook, who didn’t enjoy being bossed about by a woman like Falla Gundersen, who, in her eyes, was no Vettel and never would be. But Falla had held firm, and so trays continued to flow from the kitchen, piled high with salted oxtongue, herring and eggs, slices of fresh rye bread, and dumplings too.
‘Your wife is enjoying herself,’ Elin noted, standing by Lief, who was holding onto a table, having abandoned his crutch over the course of the day. It had slowed him down, irritating him endlessly, and he’d finally decided that he was better off without it.
Lief nodded. ‘She is, which is no surprise. She was a lady once, so she’s used to it.’
‘Oh?’
Lief didn’t like talking about Falla’s previous husbands, and he frowned. ‘She married an old lord from the Slave Islands, where she was born, though it didn’t suit her. I think she’ll be much happier as the lady here.’
‘And you?’ Elin wondered. ‘Will you enjoy being the Lord of Slussfall?’ She watched Reinar talking to Karolina Vettel out of the corner of her eye, envious of the baby she was clutching to her chest. ‘You don’t fear the danger that’s coming from the North?’
Lief turned to her, hearing the worry in her voice. ‘I’d be foolish not to, but it’s better to be a lord. Now I have the power to make the right decisions. That will be important as things... progress.’
‘I imagine my husband would agree, though I don’t know if he enjoys being a lord himself. He was happier before, when his father ruled Ottby. The responsibility is never-ending, like wearing a mail shirt you can never take off.’
Lief nodded, though he didn’t feel daunted by the prospect of such a weighty burden. In fact, he welcomed the responsibility. And now that Hakon and Ivan were gone, he’d be able to introduce his own ideas for shoring up their defenses, for if an attack was coming, as Reinar Vilander had suggested, they needed to be prepared.
Nodding politely, Lief slipped away to find his wife, and Elin turned her attention to Ilene, who was gobbling down her second plate of food. Sitting down beside her, she smiled. ‘Are you not planning to eat again till Ottby?’
Ilene grinned, chomping a soft carrot. ‘I’m thinking that this is the best food I’ve ever tasted, and I may not come this way again, so I aim to make the most of it.’
‘You’re saying this is better than our food? In Ottby?’
‘Of course!’ Ilene winked at Berger, who was walking into the hall with Bjarni. ‘Though I won’t mind returning to Ottby. Anything’s better than Ullaberg.’
‘So no more thoughts of this Arnon, then?’
Ilene snorted. ‘As you said, I’m a warrior now, so perhaps I care less about what a man can do for me and more about what I can do for myself. Why do I need a husband?’ She laughed, reaching for her cup of ale. ‘I thought maybe I could marry Arnon or Sigurd. Maybe even Berger, if I was desperate, but why do I need to marry at all? I can be free, earn my own silver, buy my own things, have any man I want in my bed. What need do I have of marriage?’
‘But what about a home? Children?’ Elin wondered, her mind very much on getting back to Ottby and starting again with Reinar. ‘Don’t you want a child?’
Ilene shrugged. ‘Don’t know if I do. I don’t know if I’ll even get the chance. If any of us will. Soon the king will call us to war, and we’ll all go, so there’s no point in thinking past right now. And right now, I’m thinking I should like to spend my evening riding Berger Eivin like a horse!’ And wiping her face on a napkin, she grabbed her cup of ale and stood, heading towards him.
Elin watched her go, feeling both surprised and envious.
Wishing life could be that simple.
‘Borr says we’ll arrive at Torsas in the morning. You’ll stay on board with Dead Eye. The rest of us will head ashore, see if anyone’s seen a little girl.’
‘But... but...’ Alys spluttered, not wanting to be left behind, and certainly not with the strange-looking man they called Dead Eye. He had only the one working eye, which had been permanently fixed on her breasts since she’d been dragged on board. ‘You’ll need my help. I can help! I might see something.’ She needed to get off the ship. There was nothing she could do to try and escape while they were stuck on the ship.
Arnon was surprised. ‘Why? Because you’re thinking of escaping? Do you really think that’s possible, Alys?’
Alys blinked, becoming concerned that, instead of reading Arnon’s thoughts, he was reading hers. As though Alari was in his head, still playing games. Though hopefully, that evil goddess had made her point and would leave her alone now.
Turning around suddenly, Alys thought she heard laughter.
‘What? What is it?’
Alys wanted to get away from Arnon, whose eyes followed her everywhere. Whose hands touched her constantly. She could barely think. ‘Nothing. I just thought I heard something.’
‘Out here?’ Arnon laughed. ‘What could possibly be out here?’
Alys didn’t know. Night had fallen early, the sky broody and rolling with clouds as though a storm was coming. Though it seemed that a storm was always coming now that winter had arrived. Alys’ shoulders ached with worry. ‘I need to come ashore with you,’ she tried again. ‘I want to find Lotta, and you’ve got a better chance of finding her with me there. I sense things. Visions come to me out of the blue.’
‘Well, you can tell me all about them when we get back. And don’t think I’ll be leaving Magnus with you either. Wherever I go from now on, that boy’s going with me.’
Alys sighed, seeing that there was no way through. She felt distracted, odd, arms tingling now.
They were far out to sea, no land in sight.
So why did she feel as though they were being watched?
Eddeth couldn’t stop shivering.
Something was wrong.
‘What’s wrong?’ Stina asked.
‘Nothing!’ Eddeth insisted brightly, voice wavering. ‘Nothing at all!’ She felt oddly paralysed, knowing that there was no one to find answers but her. There was no Alys, no Salma, not even her grandmother.
‘Eddeth,’ Stina hissed, dragging her back down to their chest. Eddeth had been standing at the stern on and off for hours, just staring at the waves. Something was bothering her, but what? ‘You can tell me. You can.’ The men were in groups, drinking and talking, some sharpening weapons or playing dice. A few were already sleeping.
‘There’s nothing to tell! Not a thing! Nothing!’
Stina sighed. ‘Then shall we lie down and try to get some sleep?’
Eddeth looked horrified. ‘No! I don’t think so!’ And her eyes were up, blinking rapidly, trying to discern the identity of the man swaying towards her, though he was just a dark shape, moving from side to side.
‘Everything alright?’ Sigurd wondered, his face coming into view. ‘You ladies need anything?’
‘Something’s wrong,’ Stina said quickly. ‘Eddeth thinks something’s wrong.’
‘What?’ Eddeth spluttered, turning to Stina. ‘What? No, I most certainly do...’ She was exhausted with worry and fear, and confusion most of all, too tired to go on.
Sigurd crouched down, his hands on Eddeth’s arms. ‘What’s happening? What can you see?’
‘Nothing!’ Eddeth jumped up, almost knocking Sigurd in the chin with her knee. ‘That’s the problem! I see nothing!’ She hurried away from them both, gripping the stern again, eyes back on the waves. The moon was lost, and Eddeth could only sense that those waves were rising and tumbling like giant boulders. She shivered, feeling colder than ever. And turning around, she smacked into Sigurd, who had followed her.
‘Eddeth! Stop!’ Sigurd cried, wrapping one arm around her, holding her securely. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’
Disturbed by the commotion, Jonas came to join them. Vik was in the bow, having an
argument with Ollo, who was loudly insisting that Vik’s eyesight had obviously gone, for surely he’d won that last match. ‘What’s happening?’
Eddeth rolled her eyes, trying to escape Sigurd’s hold, but he gripped her firmly, hoping to calm her down long enough to give them some answers.
‘What lives in the deep?’
Eddeth twisted her head to the right.
‘You know, my Eddeth. You know what lives in the deep...’
Eddeth shivered, listening, hearing nothing at all.
And then she answered the question herself. ‘Hartu!’ she screamed into Sigurd’s ear. ‘Hartu is coming!’
‘How can you still be cold?’ Arnon laughed, listening to his wife’s teeth chatter. ‘You’ve got more furs than anyone!’
Alys hoped that wasn’t true. ‘What about Magnus?’
‘He’s a boy. He doesn’t feel the cold.’
For a man so desperate to put his family back together, Arnon de Sant cared little for his son. Alys frowned, trying not to let it affect her. ‘I’m not cold. Just... I feel things.’
Arnon dropped down beside her. ‘What things?’
‘Dreamer things. It’s hard to explain. It’s as though we’re being watched.’
‘I imagine we are,’ Arnon murmured, grabbing one of Alys’ furs for himself, running a hand up her thigh.
She flinched, but didn’t move, shivering some more. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Alari, of course. She promised to watch over me. To help me. So you should feel watched, Alys. Alari will have her eye on you, making sure you don’t do anything silly. Anything you might come to regret.’ He poured ale into a cup, lifting it to his lips. Then smiling, he turned to Alys. ‘She wants me to find Lotta, she said that, so she’ll be doing everything she can to help me.’
Alys turned around, head twisting to the stern, seeing glimpses of Eddeth on a ship. Sigurd was there. Stina. Ludo.
She closed her eyes, trying to see who else.
Jonas and Vik.
That strange Ollo Narp.
Other faces she recognised.
But she couldn’t see Reinar.
The ship was quickly in an uproar, no one panicking more than Ollo Narp.
‘What is she talking about? What?’ He’d drunk too much ale while he played dice with Vik, and was struggling with his balance, swaying left and right, head swimming.
Sigurd placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Best you sit down, Ollo. If Hartu’s coming, she’ll likely pick you off first. That goddess can smell weakness from the bottom of the sea!’ He grinned, though he was tingling all over as Ollo staggered down to a chest, eyes popping open, grabbing the shield rack.
‘It makes no sense,’ Ludo said again. ‘Why would Hartu be coming for us? What have we done?’
Eddeth had started talking so quickly that no one could understand her, so they were left to come up with their own explanations for what she could see.
They stood in the stern, Vik working hard to calm Eddeth down. ‘You need a breath, Eddeth. A deep breath. Let your shoulders fall, there now. Another one. You’ll pass out soon if you don’t breathe, then you won’t be able to help anyone.’
Eddeth was nodding, attempting to do as he said. ‘I, I...’
‘When we were in the forest, Thenor came to Alys,’ Stina said, nerves pinging. ‘He spoke to her.’
‘Did he?’ Jonas’ eyes darted about, watching the waves.
‘And Valera came to her in Ottby,’ Ludo added.
‘They came to h-help A-Alys!’ Eddeth spluttered. ‘But Hartu?’ Then she heard something, quickly pushing Vik away. Images of her grandmother standing on the beach flashed before her eyes again, and she stuffed a hand under her cloak, drawing out her knife.
‘Well, that’s going to help!’ Ollo snorted. ‘Stick the terrifying goddess in the eye. We’re sure to be saved!’
Everyone ignored Ollo, for they were too busy turning, trying to grab hold of a rope or the shield rack to steady themselves. The ship was rocking violently now, unbalancing them all.
‘Something’s coming!’ Falki shouted, feeling the tiller almost jerking out of his hands, sensing a growing swell of waves pushing the ship higher.
Eddeth fumbled with her gloves, unable to get them off. Stina was quickly there, pulling them off for her. And freed of their woolly embrace, Eddeth dropped to the deck, fingers twitching, trying to hear her grandmother’s voice in her ears.
‘Eddeth!’
The ship swung to starboard, knocking everyone off their feet, Eddeth included, the knife flying out of her hand. She hit the shield rack head first, ears ringing. In the panic and the darkness, as the ship tilted, water flooding overboard, everyone trying to grab hold of something to steady themselves, Eddeth saw the image of her grandmother more clearly, and she scrambled up onto her knees.
Dagger tilted back to port now, and those who hadn’t secured themselves were rolling again.
‘What’s happening?’ Ollo bellowed, just managing to snatch Vik’s arm.
‘That would be the Goddess of the Sea, come to have some fun!’ Vik cried, shivering as the roar of the storm intensified, wind swirling like a tempest now.
‘Eddeth!’ Aldo was trying to reach her as she rolled across the deck again. She shrieked, hitting her head on a chest, wrapping her empty hands around it, clinging on for dear life. ‘Eddeth!’ And then Aldo was beside her, grabbing her hand. ‘Here!’ He showed her the knife he was holding in his wet hand.
Eddeth smiled, big teeth gleaming in a burst of lightning. ‘Good boy, good boy! Now hold onto me, and find some rope, quick as you can, before we’re rocking again!’
Alari watched them.
The grove was quiet, secluded and private, and she remained alone, undisturbed. She leaned over the ancient well, smoothing down her white braid with one hand, her eye on the clear, cold water glittering beneath a glowing moon.
Mirella had become a problem, rising higher than was her right. She was a gifted dreamer – Alari knew that better than anyone – but to act as though she was a goddess? To abandon the Vettels and choose a new path? To twist and turn Eskvir into a mere puppet?
It would not do.
It would simply not do to let Mirella think that she had free rein to choose anything to do with Alekka’s destiny.
So smiling, Alari urged Hartu on.
‘Secure yourselves!’ Sigurd bellowed, sensing that they were about to crest an enormous wave. Dagger was charging at such a pace now that his stomach was lurching, though he didn’t have a hand spare to hold over his mouth. He snorted puffs of frosty air out his nostrils, unable to stop shivering. ‘Hold on!’
Jonas had joined Aldo and Eddeth, and he helped the boy tie Eddeth to the stern. ‘Now you!’ he called to Aldo, who looked grateful for the help. Jonas’ hands were stiff with cold, and he fumbled, gritting his teeth, which chattered uncontrollably.
‘Sigurd!’ Falki called from the tiller, wet hair whipping around a petrified face. ‘Look!’
It wasn’t a wave.
Sigurd bit his tongue, staring at the giant shape emerging from the seething sea. ‘What the...’
Ollo grabbed hold of Vik, who was clinging to the mast. ‘What? What?’ He turned, mouth dropping open, quickly filled with seawater. ‘Catapult!’ he tried, spitting, shaking his dripping hair. ‘We need the catapult!’
But the sea serpent, dark head sliding out of the angry waves until it was towering over Dagger, swept down, jaw prised open, crunching the catapult with its fangs, flinging it away.
‘Shut up!’ Vik yelled at Ollo. ‘Keep your mouth shut!’
‘Eddeth!’ Sigurd screamed, hoping she was doing something to help them. ‘Hurry!’
Aldo turned, freezing at the sight of the serpent.
‘Don’t look,’ Ludo urged, heart thumping so violently that he felt pains in his chest. ‘Come on, Eddeth!’
Eddeth was bent over, hands shaking, carving a symbol into the deck. But now water was sloshing across
the boards, and she was struggling to see.
Then she heard a voice in her head, urging her on.
Alys.
And ignoring the water, the screams of the men, and the blood-curdling roar of Hartu’s giant serpent, Eddeth kept carving, seeing the symbol in her mind.
Sigurd rolled down the deck with a yelp. He grabbed hold of a rope, jerking to a stop, and quickly pulling himself onto his knees, he lifted one of the decking boards, dragging out a bow and a quiver of arrows. Securing the quiver across his back, hand still around the bow, he tumbled across the deck as Dagger smacked into another wave.
Ludo scrambled past him on his hands and knees, seeing what he was doing, and then Jonas.
Sigurd stood, making his way back to the mast, tripping, stumbling, finally reaching Vik, who held out a hand. Coils of rope had been left at the foot of the mast, and Vik tied one around Sigurd’s middle, keeping him secure, waiting as Jonas and Ludo made their way back with bows and arrows for him and Ollo too.
Sigurd didn’t hesitate, working fast with trembling, wet fingers. He nocked an arrow quickly, shooting at the serpent, hoping to hit something.
Anything.
The ship was crashing down into the waves, jerking up with a bang, and they were all struggling with their balance, but, legs apart, Jonas nocked an arrow, aiming for the serpent’s throat. The storm clouds were so dark, and the creature was like a shadow slithering through the sky, head flinging around, never staying still, and Jonas’ arrow flew wide, lost in the tumult.
Swooping down to the ship suddenly, the creature snatched a man off the deck.
‘No!’ Sigurd cried, dropping his bow, watching the serpent slide back into the sea. ‘No! Get down! Everyone down!’
Falki looked torn, crouched over the tiller, needing to stay in control of the ship, but just as desperate to get away from the gunwale as everyone else. He glanced over at Sigurd, eyes full of fear, and the next moment he was gone.