by A. E. Rayne
Eadmund managed to sit up, groaning and light-headed, but starving. ‘Have you anything to drink?’ he asked desperately.
Everyone turned towards him, mouths open.
‘I have some milk,’ Biddy offered cautiously.
‘Perfect,’ Eadmund croaked. ‘Please.’
Four sets of shoulders relaxed as Biddy went digging into her basket.
Jael could feel Eadmund’s eyes burning into her. This wasn’t how she imagined it would go; he looked ready to kill her.
Eadmund turned away from Jael. ‘How long have I been asleep?’ he asked Thorgils, who was caught between being thrilled that his best friend was alive again, and confused as to why he was in such a foul mood. Although, when he thought on it, they had kept him prisoner, and after that, he probably would’ve felt ready for a fight too. ‘A few days, I think. We’ve barely slept while we looked after you so I couldn’t say for sure.’
‘Three days,’ Biddy muttered as she brought him the milk.
‘Wait!’ Jael called out, snatching the cup out of Biddy’s hand. ‘You have to finish the tincture first. There’s only a drop left, but you need to have it all before you drink anything else.’
Eadmund glared at her and sighed furiously. ‘Well, go on then, let’s finish it.’
Eirik looked at Thorgils, confused. ‘Tincture?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Thorgils smiled wryly, enjoying the relief of thinking they had made it to the end. He hoped.
Jael brought the bottle to Eadmund and shook the last drops of the vile liquid onto his tongue. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t protest either.
They all held their breaths as he swallowed it down and held his hand out to Biddy. ‘Can I have that milk now?’
Biddy looked towards Jael, who nodded.
The tincture was done. Now they had to wait and see what would happen, and with the mood Eadmund was in, Jael wasn’t sure what that would mean for any of them.
‘What happened to your husband?’
Ayla almost dropped the bowl of apples she was carrying to the table. She didn’t know what to say. ‘He, ahhh... he died.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Eydis said sympathetically. ‘That must have been very hard for you.’
‘Yes, it has been... difficult,’ Ayla said sadly as she placed the bowl down and came to sit beside Eydis, handing her the reddest apple she could find. ‘Here, take this.’
‘Thank you,’ Eydis smiled, biting into the sweet smelling fruit. She was becoming more comfortable around the dreamer now. She didn’t feel threatened at all, not like the first time. Eydis didn’t trust her, but she no longer feared her, and that was enough to keep her talking.
Isaura bustled over to the table, her forehead wrinkling in displeasure to see Ayla sitting with Eydis again. She had suddenly become a very visible presence, and Isaura had a bad feeling about it; certain that Ivaar had her spying on them all. She would have to find time to speak to Eydis and warn her, but first, she had to survive the next two days. Agreeing to organise Vesta had been a bigger undertaking than she had imagined, and she felt very nervous about speaking to Eirik again.
Ivaar sauntered over to the table and sat down beside Ayla, close enough for their shoulders to touch, Isaura noted sourly.
‘Ladies,’ he smiled to Ayla and Eydis, ignoring his wife entirely.
Eydis’ smile quickly disappeared, and she squirmed in her seat, desperate to leave.
‘Good news!’ Eirik called loudly as he entered the hall, Thorgils trailing reluctantly behind him. Eirik had insisted Thorgils tell him everything about Eadmund and the tincture and had made him follow him all the way back to the hall while he listened to the tale.
Ivaar looked at his father with interest, but Isaura glanced away, not wanting her eyes to betray her. She had not even caught a glimpse of Thorgils in days and was desperate to know how he was.
‘Eadmund is awake!’ Eirik smiled widely.
‘Eadmund?’ Ivaar laughed. ‘At this time of day? That is good news indeed.’
No one joined in Ivaar’s joke. In fact, Eirik ignored him entirely and spoke instead to Isaura and Eydis, much to Ivaar’s annoyance.
‘He’s been ill, for some days now. Jael and Thorgils have been looking after him, but he is through the worst, so we should be seeing him around here again, once he gets his strength back.’
Ivaar raised an eyebrow; Jael had been telling the truth then. He felt a brief surge of pleasure at that, which was quickly extinguished by the look of happiness on his father’s face. Eadmund was well again. So what did that mean? What did Eirik want that to mean? He shut those thoughts away quickly. He was going to be king. Ayla had seen it. Eydis had seen it. Eadmund wasn’t about to take his birthright away from him again. ‘Well, that is good to hear, Father,’ Ivaar said as he stood up, smiling with forced enthusiasm. He caught Thorgils peering at him doubtfully but chose to ignore him. ‘And just in time for Vesta too.’
Eirik turned to his son with a genuine smile. ‘Yes, it is perfect timing. We shall have to make this Vesta the most memorable one yet. If you think we can manage that between us?’
Isaura swallowed nervously, not daring to look up. ‘I think we can,’ she said with absolutely no conviction at all.
‘Good!’ Eirik smiled, handing his cloak to a servant who was hovering expectantly near him. He rubbed his hands together as he sat down opposite her. ‘Tell me your plans. I want to hear all of it!’
Isaura gulped. Thorgils, with one, quick look in her direction, turned and headed for the door, his chest tight with joy for Eadmund, and sorrow for himself.
Biddy had cleared everything away after they’d eaten and left as quickly as she could. The tension between Jael and Eadmund had only increased, and she had no desire to be there when one of them lost control.
Jael sat in front of the small fire, freezing, wondering why she hadn’t followed Biddy back to the big house with the large fire and the thick walls. She nibbled on a fingernail. She could feel Eadmund glowering at her, as he had been doing since he’d woken up. She couldn’t understand it at all. They had been trying to help him; was he truly that mad at them? ‘Perhaps you need to go back to bed?’ she suggested, glancing at his pale face.
Eadmund frowned. ‘I’ve had enough of that bed for a while.’ He shifted about uncomfortably on his stool, his body aching from lying down for so long. He did feel weak and tired, but nothing was getting him back into that bed in a hurry.
‘Well, perhaps I should go then, leave you alone,’ Jael said irritably, standing up. ‘You look as though you’d rather I left.’ She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, her face as moody as his.
Eadmund stood up, too quickly. He felt light headed and swayed for a moment.
‘Are you alright?’ Jael moved towards him, concerned, but he shook his head quickly, and she backed away towards the door. ‘Fine, then I’ll go.’
‘I saw you and Ivaar, in my dreams.’
‘Saw us? Doing what? What does that mean?’
‘Oh, kissing, killing my sister, that sort of thing.’
‘What?’ Jael looked horrified. ‘Killing Eydis? Me?’
‘Well, you were there,’ Eadmund said frostily. ‘You didn’t stop him. You watched while Ivaar had Tarak kill her.’
Jael frowned. ‘But it was a just dream. Eydis is alive. I haven’t seen Ivaar for days. I’ve been here looking after you! It was just a dream.’
‘It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt so real. The way you looked at him, kissed him, wanted him.’ Eadmund came towards her, his eyes full of simmering resentment. ‘Just like her.’
‘Who?’
‘Melaena.’ Eadmund shook his head angrily. ‘I saw her with Ivaar, too. Saw the truth in that. She never loved me at all. She wanted him, not me. She had no choice but to marry me.’
‘They were just dreams, Eadmund,’ Jael said, trying to calm him. ‘You aren’t a dreamer, so they were just dreams. But you’re awake now. Yo
u have to let them go. You’re not there now. You came back.’
‘Because of you.’
‘Me?’
Eadmund reached out and grabbed her arm. ‘You made me come back.’ He closed his eyes, remembering when she had reached up to kiss him. ‘You brought me back here. I came back for you.’
‘Good. Because I was trying to bring you back. I wanted you to come back... to me.’
As he stared into her eyes, Eadmund felt his angry tension relax at last. He reached out and traced her sharp cheekbones with his fingers, leaning in until their lips were almost touching. He could feel the tears burning his eyes as he closed them and kissed her. Softly. Slowly. And she came into his arms, pushing herself into his body, her cold skin touching his, her lips so hungry, his tears wet on her face. He grabbed her head and held it tightly in his hands, pulling her towards him, wanting more of her, pushing her cloak off her shoulders, running his hands down her neck, feeling the throbbing of her heart against his.
Jael pulled back and looked at him, fearlessly. She wasn’t going anywhere now. She reached up and kissed him again, running her hands over his chest, feeling the chill of his skin through his worn tunic. She pushed him backwards, towards the bed and they fumbled their way onto the furs, quickly, awkwardly, rushing to remove their clothes.
‘Jael,’ Eadmund breathed into her hair. ‘You saved me.’ He looked at her again, almost smiling. ‘You brought me back.’
Jael stared at him, her eyes not leaving his. She kissed him gently. ‘Stop talking,’ she whispered as she reached her hand underneath his tunic, kissing him again, more quickly now. ‘Before I change my mind.’
IV
Fury
47
Gant looked nervous as he approached Gisila. It was the day before the wedding, and he didn’t imagine she would be in a very stable place.
‘What has Lothar sent you to do now?’ Gisila asked him crossly, spinning around.
Gant was surprised. She had changed since he saw her last; she reminded him of the woman he used to know. Her shoulders were broad again and her face, although cold, did not look self-pitying. If he had dared to come closer, he would have seen the fear and misery lurking in her almond-shaped eyes, but he didn’t, so all he saw was the illusion of confidence she had decided to construct to help her survive Lothar.
‘He, ahhh, he wanted to know if you had everything you needed? If there was anything he could do for you? Anything you wanted?’
Gisila looked around her small cottage and thought on that. Axl had only just left. She noticed his pile of things flung on top of his bed, spilling onto the reeds; he had always been the messiest of her children.
‘You can tell Lothar,’ she said firmly, walking towards Gant, wanting him to see her face, to see that she had come back. ‘You can tell the king, that I wish for Axl to have his old bedchamber in the hall. I will be able to relax and feel much more comfortable if I know Axl is nearby. If I can keep a close eye on him.’
Gant raised one scarred eyebrow at that. ‘Osbert’s room?’
‘Yes, Osbert’s room.’ Gisila didn’t take her eyes off him. ‘Which was Axl’s room.’
‘Well... I can try,’ Gant said slowly, shaking his head. ‘Although I’m not sure what Lothar will think about that. Or Osbert.’
But Gisila wasn’t finished. ‘I would also like a new crown. I have no wish to wear the hand-me-down crown his dead wife stole from me. If he is taking a new queen, then his new queen wishes to have a new crown.’
Gant didn’t know what to say. What had gotten into her? He didn’t dislike it, though, not at all. She looked fierce and reminded him very much of Jael in the fading light of the fire. He smiled. ‘I’ll let him know. Is there anything else?’
‘No, but I shall send Gunni to find you if I have any other ideas,’ she said coolly.
Gant bent his head. ‘Good, well I will be at the hall organising everything for tomorrow.’ He paused, unsure of what to say to fit the moment, but he was desperate to say something. Despite this show of strength, he knew how much she was dreading it. He could see the slightest tremble in her hands now as she held them clasped together in front of her dress. He took two steps forward and spoke quietly. ‘I wish you luck, Gisila. I will be there. I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier, I promise.’
Gant backed away quickly, and without even looking at her, turned and opened the door, closing it quietly behind himself.
Gisila’s shoulders fell into a rounded heap as all the air in her tight chest rushed out of her mouth. Her head drooped, and her eyes burned with tears. Luck? she thought to herself. She didn’t need luck; she needed an intervention from the gods.
Eadmund was sound asleep. Jael was naked and freezing under the furs next to him, filled with an urgent desire to escape. For all that she had wanted Eadmund, she had spent the night dreaming of Brekka and Aleksander. Her head was muddled with guilt and desire, her body clenched tightly; she just wanted to leave.
Jael crawled out of the uncomfortable bed as it creaked and groaned with every movement, but Eadmund didn’t stir. Quickly glancing back at him, she hoped he had not slipped back into those dreams again; more likely he was completely exhausted, she decided. They had spent the best part of the night awake. She frowned, the memories torturing her. It had been a beautifully strange experience. Eadmund wasn’t Aleksander, though, and she had only ever known Aleksander’s body and Aleksander’s touch. But, as much as she was cursing herself for her disloyalty, for her lack of self-control, part of her was just as eager to crawl back under those furs and do it all again. Jael shook her head, furious with herself. Grabbing her frozen clothes, she hurried them on. She needed to get out of this vile cottage and feel the wind on her face. Perhaps it would whip some sense into her?
Pinning her cloak to one shoulder, Jael eased open the door, and with a last, guilty look towards Eadmund, closed it behind herself.
‘So, that went well then?’ Thorgils wondered, with a lopsided grin as he stood knee-deep in the snow, staring at her. ‘Did you break our prisoner?’
Jael jumped, then frowned. ‘Ssshhh, he’s asleep in there.’
‘And you’re trying to sneak away, are you?’ Thorgils laughed hoarsely. ‘I’ve done that before, many a morning.’
‘Oh, really? Well, don’t feel any need to tell me about it on our ride,’ she grumbled quietly, stalking away from the cottage, and Eadmund, and all those confusing feelings which nagged and poked inside her.
‘Our ride is it?’ Thorgils smiled as he hurried to catch up with her. ‘You’re bringing me back into the fold, then?’
Jael turned to look at him sharply. ‘We have much to do, you and I, if we’re going to get anywhere in this contest.’ She glanced around, lowering her voice. ‘And for us to get anywhere, it means defeating Tarak, and neither one of us is ready for that, are we?’
Thorgils nodded, his face quickly matching the seriousness of hers. ‘We are not at all ready.’
‘So, let’s get going to Fyn’s,’ she said shortly. ‘We need to spend the entire day there, training until we can’t stand. We have a lot to catch up on.’
Thorgils smiled to himself as he trailed after her. ‘You’re a little feisty this morning, Jael, I must say. Are you sure Eadmund was still breathing when you left him?’
Jael wasn’t even listening. She needed to fight, to release the panic that was building inside her. And more than that, she needed to defeat Tarak.
‘Are you talking to me today?’ Aleksander wondered as he peered at Edela’s troubled face. He no longer took it personally when she went quiet and ignored him – he knew that she was trying to unravel her dreams – but the way she had looked at him yesterday had unsettled him greatly. It felt as though what she was working on in her head was all about him.
‘Of course, of course, I am,’ Edela looked up, smiling. ‘I suppose there is just too much on my mind. Sometimes I disappear. I’m sorry.’
Aleksander grabbed hold of her arm
and pulled her towards him as soldiers came riding at speed down the middle of the street, flinging snow and mud at everyone they passed. Aleksander wiped some muck out of his eye. ‘Lovely! This place never fails to irritate me.’
Edela laughed and wiped her own eyes. ‘Well, hopefully, we can leave soon and get back to Andala.’
‘Really? Soon?’ Aleksander was surprised. ‘But do we really know anything much at all? We have a lot of breadcrumbs, but none of them lead anywhere, do they?’
Edela didn’t know what to say to that. It was a clear enough day, but as they walked down Tuura’s main street, she felt a dark cloud hanging over her. And that cloud was Fianna Lehr; she was the biggest breadcrumb of all. If only she could ask Aleksander about her without completely isolating him. He would not take her questioning well. How could he?
‘Have you thought about going to the temple again?’ Aleksander wondered.
‘I’m waiting to be asked,’ Edela mumbled, only half listening. ‘Apparently, I am going to be called back, but who knows when.’
Aleksander bent low to her ear. ‘This place is so odd. No one speaks plainly, do they? They just bustle about, hiding the truth of everything behind their doors. They’re a bunch of cowards really,’ he scoffed. ‘I mean, what could be so bad that telling everyone would make it worse, not better? Surely the more people you tell, the more everyone can help?’
Edela couldn’t help but see the similarities between herself and the elders, then. And that was not a comparison she felt especially proud of. She had failed to find any further clues about Fianna in her dreams. Maybe the gods were telling her that the only way to move forward was with Aleksander’s help. She grabbed his sleeve and stared earnestly into his face. ‘I need to tell you something.’
Eadmund stood at the railings of the Pit, struggling to locate a smile.