by A. E. Rayne
Now Bjarni laughed. ‘You think he’d care about that? Berger?’ He glanced around, nodding at Ilene, who was staring at them with curious eyes. ‘Gold makes everyone a little mad. Not having it, having it, it’s all the same. Gold makes men desperate, and desperate men are capable of anything. You know that.’ Turning away, Bjarni peered out to sea, searching for Victory.
Reinar leaned over beside him, trying to look concerned. ‘I’ll keep an eye on Berger, don’t worry.’ Bjarni’s fretting was a good distraction. A distraction he needed. Berger finding the Vettel gold was a stroke of luck, but Reinar didn’t really care about the gold. He cared about getting back to Ottby before the sea froze, securing the fort and keeping his family safe. He longed to be back behind his two walls, working on what would come next.
But more than anything, Reinar wanted to know if Eddeth had helped his brother find Alys.
Aldo made supper while Ollo hung over his shoulder, muttering away about him hurrying up. Not even the hot flames of the fire warmed him, and deciding that he was shaking with hunger most of all, Ollo remained where he was, eager to get his frozen fingers on some hot grouse.
Vik had stationed four men on the perimeter of their camp, keeping watch, and leaving Jonas in charge of everyone else, he’d taken Eddeth for a walk.
She fell over a lot, sinking into the snow, losing her balance in the darkness, and eventually, Vik had grabbed her hand, determined not to let her go.
‘What do you think?’ he wondered, when they had left the chatter behind. ‘I imagine it’s hard to see anything with Ollo sniping away.’
Eddeth nodded. ‘I can read that man’s mind, and it’s as noisy as what’s coming out of his mouth, believe me!’
Vik grinned, leading her to a snow-covered boulder, brushing it clean. ‘We need to plan what to do. I need you to tell me what you’ve seen. Can you do that, Eddeth?’
Eddeth felt flustered being alone with Vik in the dark, and she struggled to concentrate on anything but her fluttering heart. She nodded, though her thoughts were scattered.
‘We’re in danger here. Sigurd’s in danger there. And Alys and Magnus and Lotta are in danger wherever they are, so we have to find a way to get us all safely back home.’
‘Yes, yes, we do indeed!’ Eddeth thought of home with a growing longing, closing her eyes, inhaling deeply, convinced that she could almost smell the fragrant herbs strung across her cottage. She could almost hear the sound of rain hitting the step outside her door.
She frowned, eyes still closed, hearing screams.
Vik and the forest eased away, and suddenly she was in Ottby’s square, watching the panic as men and women she knew ran past, some knocked to the ground as boulders crashed into the fort. She smelled smoke, saw braziers glowing down both sides of the square, Valera’s Tree lit up as though it was Solsta. And blinking, Eddeth kept walking, wondering what she was seeing.
Fiery arrows shot overhead, digging into bodies and earth.
Screams lifted the hairs on her arms, and she saw a familiar figure running towards her.
‘Get into the hall!’ Agnette screamed. ‘Hurry!’
Gerda ran down the steps, hair tumbling out of its fastenings. ‘Where’s Odd Forsten? What are you doing out here?’
‘He’s dead! Dead! Get back inside, Aunty! Hurry!’
Opening her eyes slowly, Eddeth reached for Vik’s hand, mouth dropping open.
‘What? What have you seen?’
‘Home...’ Eddeth breathed, heart racing. ‘I’ve seen home.’
26
Sigurd was growing impatient. ‘I need ale. Something to drink. Please!’
The girl nodded, though she didn’t appear to be listening.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked, trying to get through to her.
She ignored him, sitting before him with her eyes closed, hands on his right arm, avoiding his injured left.
As much as Sigurd was desperate for ale, he was just as desperate to stop her finding anything that might reveal where his friends were. He was a useful prisoner, he knew, brother of a lord, but his captor wasn’t likely to keep anyone else around. He’d kill them all if he found them. Sigurd remembered the mangled face of that old warrior, believing in his heart that the man was capable of it. His eyes gleamed for gold, and there was no compassion in them, just pure greed.
‘Are you a prisoner?’ Sigurd wondered, eyeing the girl, who looked like a woodland creature, hiding beneath her big cloak. ‘How old are you?’
Sighing, Raf opened her eyes, glaring at him. ‘How can I find any answers if you’re talking? Or perhaps that’s what you want? Are you hoping to distract me?’
She had the bluest eyes Sigurd had ever seen, which almost made him laugh, thinking of his own eyes. ‘Perhaps.’
‘If I answer your questions, will you be quiet?’
‘I might.’
Raf shook her head, further annoyed. ‘I’m nineteen, possibly older. I don’t know.’
‘Possibly?’
‘My parents left when I was...’ Raf still saw herself in the forest all alone. Abandoned, unwanted. Lost. ‘I don’t know how old I am. My dreams say nineteen, but sometimes, I think I’m older.’
‘You look nineteen,’ Sigurd decided. ‘Though you’re small.’
‘I’ve been this size for years now.’
‘Then you’re not growing, so perhaps you’re older?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Raf. I don’t know if it’s my real name. Someone called me it once. I don’t remember who.’ Raf frowned, still perplexed that, although she’d had dreams since she was a child, she had always struggled to find any answers about herself.
She was intriguing, her eyes mesmerising, and Sigurd started to focus on her face rather than the pain in his left forearm, wanting to know more. ‘And how did you come to be here? With these men? Did they take you?’
‘No, I found them. They let me go with them. They gave me a home. Two years ago. I’ve been with Gudrum for two years now.’
‘Gudrum? The scarred man? Is he the leader?’
Raf nodded. ‘He’s the lord. The Lord of The Murk.’
‘So he makes you dream for him?’
Raf laughed. ‘Makes me? No, I want to help him.’
‘Help him do what?’
Raf opened her tiny mouth, then promptly closed it. ‘I’m supposed to be seeing things about you, not telling you about me, so be quiet, Sigurd Vilander, and let me uncover all your lies.’
Sigurd laughed, arm throbbing as he leaned in closer. ‘If you’re a dreamer, why are you here? If you can see what will happen, why are you still here?’
Raf blinked, feeling the heat of his arm beneath her hand.
And trying to focus, she closed her eyes.
What Eddeth described about her vision had Vik concerned, though there was nothing they could do about Ottby. They had to find a way to help Sigurd. It was all that lay ahead of them now. But Eddeth couldn’t see anything about Sigurd.
Nothing at all.
‘Keep trying,’ Vik urged, lifting his eyes to the fire in the distance, where the eating had already begun, spurred on by Ollo, who had no intention of waiting for either of them. ‘Perhaps sleep will help?’
Eddeth hoped it would, though she feared that she would simply freeze to death in the night. She thought of the steam house with a deep longing to be sitting there beside Stina, steam billowing around them, sweat dripping down her forehead, into her eyes.
She nodded, seeing glimpses of Reinar, knowing that she couldn’t let him down. She had to find Alys, and now, Sigurd too. The pressure was growing by the moment, and she felt distracted, not wanting food at all, despite her protesting belly. ‘I’ll stay. I need to stay here. Alone. Just a while longer.’
Vik turned to her, scanning the forest, though he saw no better place for her to sit. ‘I won’t go far. And you can see the fire from here.’ He frowned, realising that someone would smell
their fire, maybe see it too. It was a risk, but they would freeze to death in the night without those flames. ‘I’ll come back soon.’
Eddeth was pleased to hear it, though despite the pleasure of Vik’s company, she very much wanted to be alone. She didn’t speak as he headed away, her ears ringing with screams, wondering what it all meant. And making her way into the trees, tripping over a mess of buried roots, Eddeth found herself in a clearing, where she dropped back her head and peered up at the dark branches, searching the stars.
The gods had chosen her. Made her a dreamer.
And now she needed to get to work.
Mirella found Alys and Magnus a bedchamber far away from her own chamber, where Lotta would be sleeping.
Alys felt foolish that all the years of yearning for her mother and missing what she imagined was a mother’s love had all been for nothing. Her mother was ice cold and heartless, lacking any maternal instincts at all.
Had she been damaged by her time spent with Jesper Vettel, Alys wondered?
Then she remembered Jonas telling Vik about what had happened to Mirella in Tuura, and she realised that whatever was wrong with her mother was more than just an abusive marriage.
Magnus slipped inside the chamber, wanting to see where he’d be sleeping, leaving Alys at the door.
‘You will think on what I’ve said, and I will await your answer in the morning,’ Mirella instructed.
Alys bristled at her tone. ‘Do you think I’d say no? That I would just walk away without my daughter? Like you did? That I could be as cruel as you?’
Mirella stiffened, lengthening her elegant neck. ‘I saved your life, Alys. Whatever you think of me is irrelevant. I saved your life, and you were raised by good people.’ She didn’t blink, didn’t move, though the words almost stuck in her throat. ‘The Vettels would have killed you, as I said.’
‘Yet what was the point of letting me live if we’re to become enemies? If you simply want to remove me? Get me out of the way?’
‘Dreamers don’t see every path as though it’s illuminated by the sun, Alys. Most paths are shaded in darkness, and we merely feel our way along. The gods show us things, of course, but not even they see everything. It takes greater insight to understand the whole truth. More knowledge, that can only be attained by great sacrifice.’
Alys frowned. ‘Knowledge? From where? If not the gods, from where?’
But Mirella wasn’t in the mood to stand around talking. She wanted to get back to her chamber and dream. Meeting Alys had unsettled her. Despite her confidence that she would feel nothing, their reunion had disturbed her greatly.
Though it wasn’t that.
Something was wrong. Something she couldn’t see.
She needed to dream.
‘You are my guest here, Alys, you and Magnus both, so don’t hesitate to ask for what you need. Lotta and I will see you in the hall for breakfast.’ And turning away, ignoring her daughter’s open mouth, where many questions were poised, waiting to be asked, Mirella headed down the corridor.
Alys stood in the doorway, too stunned to move, though eventually, she dropped her head and turned into the chamber, where Magnus was waiting with a sympathetic look on his sweet face.
‘At least we’re safe from Father,’ he said, slipping his hand into hers, looking up at her with a smile. ‘He can’t hurt us in here, can he?’
Alys sighed. ‘No, he can’t.’ And though everything was becoming more complicated by the moment, there was some relief in that.
Eddeth thought of Alys as she closed her eyes, Stina curled into a ball beside her, desperately seeking some warmth from her own body.
It was so cold that there was a real fear that they’d freeze to death in the night. Jonas and Vik had taken command of the fire, promising to take turns keeping it going. The fire worried them too because whoever had captured Sigurd might have sent more men out looking for his friends. Though, in the end, they’d all decided that they stood a better chance against those men than against Ulfinnur, God of Winter, who was known to freeze weary travellers to death in the night.
‘Are you alright?’ Stina yawned, trembling beneath her fur. Eddeth had been oddly quiet since she’d returned from her talk with Vik.
‘I am,’ Eddeth said, ‘and I’m not. We are lost and trapped and free all at the same time. It’s very confusing!’
Stina smiled. ‘We need to rescue Sigurd, I know, but what about Alys and Magnus? What about Lotta?’
‘They’re safe,’ Eddeth sighed, feeling cold but tired. As well as cloaks, weapons, and horses, they had taken bed furs from the farmstead, and she was grateful for the warmth they provided. Though her mind was mainly in Ottby, trying to understand what she’d seen. ‘They’re as safe as they can be for now, but everyone else? Oh, I can’t help but worry. It’s as though the whole of Alekka is about to explode like a bonfire!’
Stina swallowed. ‘That sounds bad.’
‘It does. The gods are angry, the lords are making plans for war, and we’re stuck in the middle, searching for a path in the darkness. Hoping to find our way to safety before it’s too late!’ Eddeth closed her eyes. ‘Oh yes, I see it all. The great battle is coming. One to decide the fate of Alekka itself. One to decide your fate, and mine too. And where will we be, Stina? That’s the question we must ask ourselves now. Where will you and I be when it comes?’
Stina wanted to be home in Ullaberg. It was all she’d known; the only home she’d ever had. It was small and insignificant, but she longed for the simplicity of that tiny village and the comfort of neighbours and friends. Now everything was strange and uncertain, and she felt increasingly unsettled by a growing fear of the great unknown.
They didn’t know where they were. Who was out there.
What was coming for them.
Ludo stood over the fire beside Vik. Jonas had fallen asleep next to a muttering Ollo, who wasn’t enamoured by his loud breathing sounds. ‘Do you think Eddeth really saw that? About Ottby?’ He was still struggling to accept that Eddeth was a dreamer. And as much as he wanted to believe she was, she was still Eddeth. And the Eddeth he’d known for fifteen years had always been a twitching, sneezing, jumbled mess of confusion.
‘I’ve no reason not to believe her. She saw what happened to Alys. She saved us in the farmstead. If she hadn’t seen what that woman was up to with her poisoned ale, we wouldn’t even be here.’
That was true, and it lifted Ludo’s spirits. Then he thought of Ottby. ‘But who would attack Ottby? In this weather? Who’s there to attack Ottby with no Vettels anymore?’
It was a good question.
‘Ake’s made more enemies than I could count over the years. There are always those who don’t like what their king does when it doesn’t go their way. But to have assembled enough men to attack Ottby? Well, only a man with gold could do that. A rich man with a grudge against the king. Only one man I can think of there...’
Ludo looked at Vik, waiting for an answer, but Vik turned away for more branches, wanting to keep the flames bright.
It was going to be a long night.
Sigurd’s arm felt better. Whatever Raf had slathered on it smelled terrible, but the pain had dulled to a tolerable ache now, and he found himself feeling almost sleepy.
He thought of Ottby, though he felt no desire to go home. Home was Tulia and their empty bedchamber and her sad horse and the wall she’d commanded beside him.
He didn’t want to go home, but he did want to get out of whatever trap he’d stumbled into. Gudrum wanted gold, though Sigurd doubted that would be the end of it. He looked like a dog had chewed him up and spat him out. Like a man hungry for revenge. Ake had warned them about the threat from his Northern enemies, and Sigurd was certain that Gudrum was one of them.
Gold wouldn’t satisfy him, though gold would buy him men and weapons and resources to attack Ake.
And who else, Sigurd wondered...
Who else was lurking in the forest?
He shivered, wish
ing he’d paid more attention to the fire, slowly exhaling its last breaths now. And gritting his teeth, left arm braced across his belly, Sigurd shuffled towards the fire, placing a small branch near the quickly disappearing flames, hoping to encourage them back to life.
He was in danger, and though part of him didn’t care for his own future, he knew that Ludo would be trying to rescue him. Ludo and Jonas and Vik. Eddeth and Stina. Even Ollo Narp. But if they tried to rescue him, they would endanger themselves. There were too many men. They were armed, the camp heavily guarded.
He hoped Eddeth could see that.
If she was dreaming, looking for a way in, he hoped she would see that there was no way in at all.
‘There’s a problem with your brother.’
Reinar woke in a fright, jumping to his feet, the man’s voice like a clap of thunder inside his head. Panting, he looked around the ship, but everyone appeared asleep, including Elin, who hadn’t stirred. Bolli was at the tiller, though he was staring out to sea, not looking his way.
Reinar couldn’t catch his breath as he turned around, trying to see who had spoken. He was certain he recognised the voice, but shaking his head, he wrapped his cloak around his chest, realising that he must have been having a dream.
Then he saw the man.
He was standing in the bow, one hand on the prow.
He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and despite the strength of a brutal wind, that hat remained securely fixed to his head.
Reinar’s attention was on the hat as he walked down the ship, eyes occasionally dropping to the deck as he moved around the sleeping bodies, stepping over coils of rope. ‘My brother?’ he asked, getting closer. ‘What’s wrong with my brother?’ He heard the loud caw of a raven somewhere overhead, and surprised by that, Reinar’s attention wandered again.
Thenor turned around, eyes shaded by the hat. Clouds rushed across the starry sky, and occasionally, Reinar saw flashes of his beard, his nose, but never his eyes.