The Burning Sea (The Furyck Saga: Book Two)

by A. E. Rayne

  The door flew open suddenly, banging into Fyn. And there, standing in front of a wind-swept Thorgils, was Evaine; a ghostly creature dressed all in white, a wailing child cradled in her arms.

  ‘Hello, Brother,’ she smiled coldly. ‘Did you miss me?’

  Jael stood outside the door, not wanting to go into the house. Edela and Biddy were in there, she knew, and she was reluctant to have their conversation inside, in front of them.

  She was reluctant to have the conversation at all.

  Jael turned towards Eadmund. ‘You should go and check on them.’

  Eadmund stared at his wife, not going anywhere. He had missed her. As confusing and strange as it had been to see Evaine again, he had not been able to stop thinking about Jael. Nor how furious she was going to be with him. ‘Not yet. We need to talk.’

  Jael glared at him. ‘I don’t think we do. Not anymore. That talk should have happened before you left. To get her.’

  Eadmund frowned and reached out to touch Jael’s face. She shied away, avoiding him entirely. Her eyes would not meet his.

  ‘I didn’t leave to get Evaine,’ Eadmund insisted quietly, looking around as Askel wandered out of the stables. He nodded quickly to the middle-aged man, waiting for him to leave, before continuing. ‘I had a dream about my son. He was in danger. I felt it. I dreamed that he was dying. I had to go.’

  ‘Are you are dreamer now?’ Jael scoffed, shaking her head. ‘So, why not tell me? Or your father? Or Thorgils?’ Jael’s tongue was loosening, and she knew it. She needed to walk away, but she also wanted to know why. Desperately. Why? ‘You just left, Eadmund. You left me... without a word.’

  Eadmund slumped under the force of those accusatory eyes. He felt muddled. Odd. ‘I needed to make sure he was safe. You would have tried to stop me. You and Eirik. You both would have.’ His excuse felt weak, falling short of anything that made sense.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?’ Jael said quickly. ‘He’s here. So, why not go and be with him? And her. Make sure they settle in.’ She turned and gripped the door handle, her hand shaking in fury. ‘It’s probably best if you sleep somewhere else, don’t you think? For now. We leave in two days. There is no time to think about anything but this battle. I’ll have Askel take your chest to your old cottage.’ Jael opened the door and disappeared inside, pulling it quickly closed behind her.

  Eadmund didn’t move. Sadness coursed through every part of him as he stared at the door, smelling the familiar aroma of Biddy’s stew, watching the smoke curl out of the hole in the roof. He wanted to go inside. It was his house too. But then Eadmund thought of his son and he turned away. He needed to make sure that Sigmund was alright.

  He had to speak to his father.

  Thorgils wasn’t sure who looked more shocked, but as neither Runa nor Fyn were speaking, he found himself standing astride a gaping hole that was widening quickly beneath his feet. ‘Eadmund has brought Evaine and the child back to stay,’ he tried, hating both the sound and implications of those words.

  What had Eadmund been thinking?

  That didn’t prompt any reaction. Runa and Fyn continued to stare at the crying lump Evaine was clutching to her chest.

  Evaine sighed and pushed her way inside, past her brother. ‘I must get the baby by the fire,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It was freezing on that ship!’

  Runa swallowed and turned to Fyn, who appeared ready to leave with Thorgils. She looked at him, pleadingly, not wanting to be left alone with that girl. Again.

  Thorgils shunted Fyn towards his mother. ‘Well, I shall leave you all to it then.’ He ignored the pained look on his friend’s face, turning quickly away into a sudden downpour of rain. ‘No doubt I’ll see you later!’ he called over his shoulder.

  Fyn gaped after Thorgils as his mother, spurred into action, at last, hurried to shut the rain outside. She turned to her son, her eyes full of trepidation.

  ‘Do you not even wish to meet your grandson, Mother?’ Evaine asked irritably. ‘Or will you be standing by the door all afternoon?’

  Fyn shook himself awake. His mind jumped quickly to Jael. Did she know? ‘Why are you here?’

  Evaine unwrapped her fur-covered bundle and lifted out a blonde-haired baby. A tiny, whimpering child. Her child with Eadmund.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Evaine threw back at him as she settled down into a chair by the fire. ‘I need a pillow!’ she ordered, unpinning her dress.

  Fyn looked away, sensing what she was about to do.

  ‘Fyn was pardoned by Eirik,’ Runa said quietly as she hurried to grab a pillow from one of the beds that ran around the walls of their lavish house. ‘I thought Eadmund might have told you that.’

  Evaine looked less than impressed, bending her face towards her son, grimacing as his desperate, pink lips gripped hold of her swollen, pink nipple. ‘Eadmund and I had far too many important things to discuss for him to mention your return.’ She readjusted the baby’s head and leaned back into the chair. ‘You live here now?’

  Fyn shook his head firmly. ‘No, I don’t. Not at the moment.’

  ‘Well, that is some good news, at least,’ Evaine sniffed. ‘Sigmund and I will require peace and quiet. It would do him no good at all to have you bumbling about.’

  Runa grimaced, not even wanting to look at the child. She glanced at Fyn, her eyes full of sadness. It had all unravelled so quickly: the pleasure of being in the house, just the two of them.

  ‘Eirik does not want you here, Evaine,’ Fyn said bravely. He had grown up terrorised by his younger, demanding, highly-strung sister; cowering with his mother as her violent temper dominated the house. But now? Now, she was a threat to Jael. And he would do anything to protect Jael.

  Evaine eyed her brother. ‘You have grown so tall,’ she purred. ‘And with a sword belt too. Almost a man. But not quite,’ she smirked, her face twisting now. ‘I can see you shaking in your boots over there. How will that serve you in battle, I wonder?’ She looked down at her baby, cringing at the discomfort of his desperate attempt to feed. He pulled away from her, milk spilling from his lips, grizzling in frustration. Evaine scowled. ‘Grrrr! He will never suck for long!’ She tried to soothe her miserable son. ‘You must find me a wet nurse. Somebody to help with the feeding. I am so weak, I can barely manage to keep him quiet at all.’ Evaine glared insistently at Runa, who sighed and finally walked towards her.

  ‘Here,’ Runa said reluctantly, holding out her arms. ‘Give him to me.’

  ‘And what about Eadmund?’ Fyn wondered firmly, not about to let his sister ignore him again. ‘What are you planning to do about him? He is married to Jael, you know.’

  Evaine stood up, re-pinning her dress. ‘Jael?’ she smiled. ‘Yes, he is.’ And her smile grew. ‘For now.’

  She stared into her brother’s blinking eyes and Fyn’s heart froze.

  ‘Eadmund!’

  Thorgils hurried after his friend who had stopped just before the hall doors. Rain was teaming down, and neither one of them had any inclination to stand about in it; not when it was this wild and heavy. Thorgils motioned for Eadmund to follow him around the corner to a small shelter where Eirik kept his milking goats, and where some of his men would often curl up on a thick pile of hay after a heavy night of drinking.

  ‘Don’t start!’ Eadmund held up his hand. ‘I know what you think.’

  Thorgils was almost too angry to speak. His mouth made all sorts of odd shapes, his eyes rolling about in his head until he finally found words. ‘But...’ he spluttered. ‘What were you thinking? You’ve humiliated your wife! Completely humiliated her!’ He shook his head. ‘She’s just about to lead us into our biggest battle, and you’ve made her look a fool! In front of everyone!’ The rain was loud, and the disturbed goats were bleating, drowning out much of the fury in his words, but his hands flailed about with such urgency that it was not lost on Eadmund how angry Thorgils actually was.

  ‘I wasn’t trying to hurt Jael. Or humiliate her,’ Eadmund
said calmly.

  ‘So, why leave then? Without telling her? Why bring that girl back here?’ Thorgils asked, gobsmacked. ‘You have a wife! A wife who saved you. And you didn’t even think you owed her an explanation?!’

  Eadmund sighed, dropping his head. ‘You don’t understand...’

  ‘What? Understand what?’

  ‘My son –’

  ‘You really think we should all believe that you went there for him?’ Thorgils scoffed.

  ‘I had to!’ Eadmund insisted. ‘Morac told me that he was not doing well. Not thriving. That Evaine was not thriving. Then I had a dream that he was dead. I was too late. I couldn’t save him!’

  Thorgils could see the pain there, the confusion in Eadmund’s eyes but it barely dampened his rage. ‘But Jael...’

  Eadmund shook his head. ‘She will understand in time, I know she will. I love Jael, but he’s my son, my responsibility. I cannot just close my eyes to the fact that he exists now. I don’t want to. He’s mine.’

  ‘And Jael?’

  ‘She’s my wife. That doesn’t change. Ever.’

  ‘You do know your wife?’ Thorgils asked. ‘She has not taken this well.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And why should she?’ he snarled. ‘It wasn’t her fault that Aleksander came. She didn’t bring him here or ask him to come. He came. You hated it, so you wanted to punish her!’

  ‘No!’

  ‘She had her old lover here, so you went to get yours!’

  ‘No! This is nothing to do with Jael!’

  ‘But it is, don’t you see? She had a choice. Ivaar gave her one. Did she ever tell you that? He would have set her free to go back to Aleksander if she had backed him as Eirik’s heir!’ Thorgils cried over the rain, which was thundering down now. ‘But she didn’t. She chose to stay and help you. To bring you back and save you. And she did. She chose to make her home here, with you. And now...’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Now?’ Thorgils asked, shrugging his broad shoulders. ‘Now, I truly don’t know what she’ll do.’

  10

  The laughter was not new.

  Cackling and coarse, it slid down Edela’s spine. She tried to wrench herself away from it, but she was tied, her arms bound tightly on either side of her. Thick ropes scoured her skin every time she moved.

  Edela tried to quell the panic that was charging through her body; tried to breathe in a steady rhythm but it was impossible. Because she was helpless. And something was coming. She could feel it. Not see it. Never that. It was always dark, and she was always alone, except for that voice.

  ‘Can you feel it? Do you know what that is? What that thudding, creeping, terrifying sound is?’

  Edela turned her head to the right, searching for light. Somewhere. Anywhere. She swallowed repeatedly.

  ‘That is the sound of me.’

  Edela frowned. Confused. Listening.

  It sounded almost like footsteps, so loud and ominous.

  ‘I am coming, Edela. I am coming for you,’ she rasped. ‘You think you can stand in my way? You? You will need more than a blind girl and an old man to help you, Edela. To stop me? You will need an army!’

  ‘We need to talk about Eadmund.’

  Jael sighed, her shoulders so tight they barely moved. She stared at the pale-blue sky as the sun rose over the harbour, serenely calm before them after a stormy night. ‘We’re leaving tomorrow.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Eirik said quietly. He, like Jael, had been too disturbed by Eadmund’s return to sleep much. ‘It cannot stay like this. He slept in the hall last night.’

  A small part of Jael felt some relief at that. ‘You think I should smile and welcome him home?’

  Eirik frowned. ‘I don’t think that at all.’ He stared at his motionless daughter-in-law. He’d never seen her look so troubled. ‘But Eadmund believes his reasons are sound. He thinks the boy would not have survived there, with that witch.’

  ‘He went against you.’

  ‘He did. And I would happily put both the girl and her child back on Edrun’s ship and return them to Rikka today.’

  ‘You can’t.’

  ‘I know,’ Eirik admitted ruefully. ‘It would only make things worse. So, it appears that we are in a bind, you and I.’

  ‘If we choose to be, then I suppose we are.’ Jael glanced at Eirik, her eyes grainy and tired. ‘We are leaving tomorrow, though. I cannot think about any of this. Not Eadmund or her or the boy. We are leaving tomorrow, Eirik.’

  The attack on Skorro. It was all that mattered now.

  She had to get Eadmund out of her head.

  Edela took a deep breath and steadied herself against Aleksander’s arm.

  ‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ Biddy grumbled behind them.

  ‘I’m warmly dressed!’ Edela retorted. ‘And we won’t go far, will we?’

  ‘We definitely won’t go far,’ Aleksander promised as he led Edela through the door, shooing Ido and Vella out of their path.

  Biddy sighed as she watched them go. ‘Well, don’t be long!’ she called anxiously. ‘It’s very cold this morning!’

  They didn’t turn around, but Aleksander smiled. ‘I’ve missed that voice,’ he chuckled. ‘Calling out to me every time I leave. She doesn’t change!’

  ‘No,’ Edela agreed. ‘Which is a good thing, don’t you think? Being cared for?’ She squeezed his arm, inhaling the many unfamiliar scents of the fort as she looked around. ‘So, here we are on Oss. Not exactly where either of us would choose to be, but be here we must. For Jael.’

  The line between Aleksander’s dark eyebrows deepened. ‘Especially now that she’s here.’

  ‘Mmmm,’ Edela mused. ‘She is indeed, so now I must find out all about her. I am looking forward to that.’

  ‘You are?’ Aleksander was surprised. Edela had been so weak, but he could sense the first signs of strength returning now. It made him smile.

  ‘That voice in my dreams,’ she began, straightening herself up. ‘It wants to intimidate me, to frighten me. But if it thinks it can do that, well then, it doesn’t know me at all.’

  Edela froze suddenly, and Aleksander peered at the ground, thinking she had stopped for a reason, but there was nothing there. Looking up, he saw a girl walking towards them, with Eadmund.

  Edela urged him onwards.

  ‘Edela,’ Eadmund smiled awkwardly as he came to a stop. ‘It’s good to see you up and about.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Edela said shortly. ‘I have gotten stronger very quickly, thanks to Biddy and Entorp.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it,’ Eadmund said, looking to leave.

  ‘And you must be Evaine,’ Edela said sweetly. ‘I have heard much about you.’ She stared at the girl, her blue eyes bold and sharp as they took everything in. She was pretty, Edela thought to herself, but her eyes were cold and wintry, like the pale tone of her flawless skin.

  Evaine almost jumped to be addressed so. ‘You have?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Edela enthused. ‘Many different people have spoken to me about you, and of course, I have seen you in my dreams, so I am glad to meet you at last. I am Edela, Jael’s grandmother. I am a dreamer, from Tuura.’

  Evaine was instantly unsettled, flinching beneath Edela’s unblinking stare. She looked at Aleksander instead. ‘I don’t think we have met,’ she smiled.

  ‘This is Aleksander,’ Eadmund muttered impatiently, desperate to drag Evaine away. ‘He brought Edela to Oss.’

  ‘Oh?’ Evaine purred. ‘I have heard about you.’

  Aleksander didn’t know what to make of her. It was hard not to be distracted by her obvious beauty, but it was plainly surface deep. Her eyes were scheming and her smile, forced. He kept expecting to see her face turn into a scorched mask of darkness. Aleksander nodded briefly at her. ‘We should be going, Edela. I don’t want you to get cold.’

  ‘Of course, we must hurry along. I have many things to do now that I have regained my strength.’ She narrowed her eyes at Evaine, glar
ed sternly at Eadmund, and allowed herself to be dragged away by Aleksander.

  Evaine’s body tensed as they left. Edela was an old woman, she tried to reassure herself, shaking away the memory of those unrelenting eyes.

  Just an old woman.

  ‘Well, come on then.’ Thorgils jabbed her gently with his wooden sword. ‘One final practice? Might make you feel better?’

  He was worried. She was so quiet.

  Jael stared at Thorgils over the railings, with his lop-sided grin and his mischievous eyes. She didn’t want to fight him. Not him. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, her lips barely moving. ‘Besides, you’ve got Fyn there. You keep going.’

  ‘Oh, no, Jael,’ Fyn insisted as he trotted towards her. ‘I’ve had far too much of Thorgils this morning. I could do with a break!’

  Thorgils eyed him crossly. ‘You ungrateful turd! Get out then, and let us show you how real warriors train!’

  Jael couldn’t help but smile as Fyn frowned, taking Thorgils’ bait, and stepping towards him with a puffed-up chest. ‘You two can have your fun without me. I have to go and check on the ships.’ She turned to leave and caught sight of Eadmund helping Evaine across the square, his arm around her back. Fire rose up through her limbs until she was ready to burst. ‘Although...’ She turned back to the Pit, her eyes sparking. ‘Perhaps I might be tempted, if you were to make it more interesting?’

  Thorgils saw Eadmund with Evaine and noted the bloodthirsty look in Jael’s eyes. He swallowed. ‘Interesting... how?’

  Entorp was uncomfortable.

  His house was small and muddled. He had lived alone for years, in a great pile of curiosities. He hoarded, collected, and experimented with plants, food, herbs, stones... objects of every kind. But there was no order; everything was a scattered mess. It suited him well... until he had visitors.

  Edela tried her best not to peer around. She didn’t wish to be rude, but she was curious about this mysterious healer, who was wild in appearance but gentle in nature. And Tuuran. ‘You are not a dreamer, then?’ she wondered, trying to focus on his well-worn face, which was flushed pink in obvious discomfort.