by A. E. Rayne
Morana slouched on the bench, seething, eyeing her mother through the mess of hair that fanned out wildly from her face. Let Jael Furyck go? The one who could destroy everything they wanted so badly?
She smiled. ‘Of course, Mother.’
Axl pulled Amma into the crowds, away from anyone who would know or hear them. And when he felt safe enough, he stopped and wrapped his arms around her.
‘But, someone will see us!’ she protested into his shoulder.
Axl stood back and smiled. ‘They won’t,’ he promised, glancing around before leaning in to kiss her protesting lips, sighing with pleasure as he held her close. ‘They won’t find us in here.’
There were merchants and customers, arguing and bartering, everywhere they looked. It was almost impossible to hear or see anything in the gaggle of imploring, waving hands and raised voices.
Amma looked up into Axl’s eyes. ‘I’m so glad you are safe,’ she sighed, touching his face. ‘So glad you survived the battle.’
He pulled her to him. ‘So am I.’
‘I don’t want to marry him!’ she sobbed suddenly.
‘I know. I don’t want you to either,’ Axl insisted, his jaw clenching.
‘But there is no choice, is there?’ Amma cried. ‘I have to do it?’
Axl shuddered and closed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he whispered reluctantly.
She had barely heard him but didn’t need to; they both knew the truth. ‘We shouldn’t stay here. Someone will come.’ Amma pulled away, wiping at her tear-stained face.
‘We will find a way to rescue you,’ Axl insisted, trying not to cry himself as he kissed her cheeks. ‘Jael will help us. She’s a queen now, so she has the power to make things happen, Amma. We will all think of what to do. You won’t have to stay here long, I promise. We will be together soon.’
But Amma could hear the hopelessness in his words and see the doubt in his eyes, and her whole body slumped.
Axl lifted her chin with his finger, bending towards her, his eyes full of worry. ‘You are strong, Amma. You’re a Furyck. Never forget that. It’s not only Jael who is a daughter of Furia, is it?’ He kissed her quickly and held her hand, not wanting to go, but worried that they had been too long. He didn’t want to get her in trouble.
‘Oh, there you are!’ Nicolene Dragos smiled smartly as Axl quickly dropped Amma’s hand and stepped away from her.
Amma jumped in shock as Gisila pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes darting back and forth between their two guilty looking faces.
‘I was trying to find my way back to the castle, and Axl found me,’ Amma insisted, blinking rapidly.
‘That was lucky for you, wasn’t it?’ Nicolene purred, frowning as she was jostled by two merchants fighting over the same customer. ‘Well, it doesn’t appear that you got very far, but I can show you how to get out of here.’ She grabbed Amma’s hand, smiled knowingly at Axl, and pushed herself back into the noisy throng.
Gisila swallowed, looking at the broken-hearted face of her son and squeezed his hand, pulling him along after the quickly disappearing women.
Thorgils stood at the gates, watching as the ships left the harbour. He was sending all but two of them around the island to Tatti’s Bay. Every Islander knew about the hidden bay, but the ships would not be so exposed there and could be stored in the enormous sheds Eirik had built to protect them from Oss’ harsh winters. There were sleeping huts there too, and some men would stay to watch over them, to light a signal fire at the first sign of trouble. It was a difficult place to attack without anyone noticing.
‘Perhaps you should come and see your mother now,’ Edela smiled as she stopped beside him. ‘She is already much improved.’
Thorgils sighed as the wind blew through his mess of red hair. He turned to Edela, lifting her into the air. ‘Thank you!’ he cried happily, surprising them both.
He thought of Isaura and felt an impatience to be with her, to make a family together after all these years apart. Ivaar had taken enough from them both.
He had taken the woman meant for him.
And Thorgils was ready to take her back.
Isaura watched Ivaar from afar as he walked down the beach, alone.
He had barely spoken to her since his return and had thankfully not invited her company much at all; at least not during the day. She shuddered, wishing he had not returned to her bed; missing the sweet solitude she had enjoyed during his absence.
Her children played around her, throwing crumbs to the swooping seabirds, who screeched angrily at them, demanding more.
Ivaar’s children. But for how long?
She saw a light of hope now, shining on the horizon.
Ivaar had killed Eirik, she was certain of it. And Eadmund would come for him. Now that he was king and free to do whatever he chose, he would choose to come for Ivaar. And Thorgils would come with him.
Thorgils would come for them all.
He had to.
‘What are you doing?’ Morac wondered sleepily from his chair. The warmth of the house and the silence since Tanja had managed to get Sigmund to sleep had rendered him almost unconscious.
Evaine was sitting at the table, searching through a book Morana had left for her before she had disappeared. Help, she had called it. Help, for if anything went wrong.
And something had gone terribly wrong. Evaine could feel it. ‘Nothing,’ she mumbled, annoyed by the intrusion into her thoughts, which she wanted to keep to herself. She didn’t want to admit that she had done something wrong, or failed to implement Morana’s instructions; not when they were all relying on her.
Morac didn’t hear her as his eyelids drooped closed and his head fell towards his slowly rising chest.
Amma bit her lip as she stared down at the dress. She had wanted to wear one of her own, but there had been nothing really suitable in her chest, so it had to be Nicolene’s dress.
It did not suit her at all.
Nicolene was reed thin and tall, with barely any hips or breasts to speak of. Her dress, although beautiful and well-made, clung to Amma’s body in a way that was far too fitting to make her feel comfortable.
Nicolene stared at her without smiling. ‘It is not ideal.’
Gisila looked at Amma’s blotchy face, her eyes swollen from crying. ‘It does not look so bad, though,’ she smiled encouragingly. ‘Unless you would rather wear one of your own?’
They stood in Nicolene and Karsten’s bedchamber, on the top floor of the castle. Light flooded in from two, large, open windows. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, Amma shivered, trying to remember what Axl had said. She blinked at Gisila, who was suffering just as much as she was but trying to be so kind. ‘I think it will be fine,’ Amma smiled bravely. ‘I thank you for lending it to me.’
Nicolene was surprised, glancing at Irenna who had joined them, desperate to escape Bayla.
‘You will not need to wear it for long,’ Irenna insisted. ‘Once the ceremony is over you could change into something more comfortable. Something of yours.’
‘Yes,’ Nicolene agreed. ‘And that way you wouldn’t get any food on my dress.’
Gisila glared at the viper-tongued girl who looked barely older than Amma but carried herself as though she had ambitions to become the next Queen of Hest. She was thoroughly unlikeable. Irenna, though, was softer, quieter, and thankfully, kinder. ‘Why don’t you change now, Amma, and we can go down to the hall? I know the queen wishes to speak to you about the ceremony.’
Amma looked terrified by that thought. She nodded, though, and squeezed herself out of the delicate, silk dress, handing it to Nicolene as she hurried back into her own, more comfortable blue woollen dress. She fumbled with nervous fingers, pinning the straps onto the front apron, trying not to cry, trying not to imagine Jaeger Dragos and his bed, and what he would do to her.
Tomorrow.
Despite the constant tapping and the odd look in her bulging eyes, Jaeger was quite pleased for the company. He had grown bored and
irritable confined to his bed, waiting for Egil to return.
‘Did you wish to show me the book, my lord?’ Meena wondered shyly, wanting to look at him but afraid that he would see into her eyes and discover more than she wanted him to know. ‘I can help you read it, I’m sure.’
He frowned, noting her eagerness, wondering how to react to it. Varna certainly knew about the book. Meena was weak, and Varna was not. Varna would have used every trick she had to peel away any pretence Meena had attempted. It would not have been hard.
He couldn’t trust her.
‘The book?’ he asked casually, grimacing as he pushed himself up, sitting higher in the bed, reaching out a hand. ‘Come closer,’ he urged. ‘You are too far away.’
Meena blinked rapidly, unable to move. Her mouth opened and closed and she shook her head. ‘I, I,’ she swallowed. ‘I, I –’
‘You are not afraid of me, are you Meena?’ he murmured. ‘Are you?’
She turned to him then, the sound of his voice so low and smooth, irresistible and frightening all at the same time. ‘N-n-no,’ she stuttered, wishing her tongue would work properly. It was trapped inside her mouth, and there were loud voices in her head, calling out warnings. She was in danger, they cried urgently. Danger!
Jaeger laughed. ‘You sound afraid,’ he smiled. ‘And you needn’t be. We want the same thing, you and I.’
Meena frowned, confused, as she edged her way towards him, within reach of those large hands of his, which he ran over his short blonde hair.
‘We want freedom! Freedom from those who have made our lives miserable since the day we were born. The ones who have tortured us, made us feel like nothing. Worthless pieces of nothing!’ he snarled, his lips curling back angrily as he stared into her eyes. ‘They have ordered us about, put us down, controlled us and given us no hope for the future.’ He grabbed Meena’s hand, pulling it down, away from her head. ‘But now it’s our turn to take control. To choose our own destiny. And that is where the book comes in.’ He leaned forward until his nose was almost touching Meena’s. She flinched but didn’t move away, frozen in utter terror. He had her hand. He had her complete attention. ‘But Meena,’ he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘How will you ever be free? How will I ever be free, if you tell all of our secrets to your bitch of a grandmother?’
Jaeger wasn’t in the hall, but Amma was, and she looked thoroughly miserable.
Jael felt the guilt of not having come up with a plan yet; not one that involved them all living, at least. She sighed as she walked towards Eadmund, who was smiling sadly at her. ‘Are you alright?’ she wondered.
He nodded, slipping his arm around her waist, pleased to see that she didn’t jump away from him. ‘Just wishing we were home. I can’t take many more nights like this. This castle feels like a prison.’
Jael nodded, her eyes searching the hall for the strange women. The dreamers. She had not seen them all day, but they had not been far from her mind. She had not eaten, nor drunk a mouthful of anything since last night and felt irritable and tired because of it.
Jael noticed that Lothar and Haaron had their heads together again, talking with Osbert. ‘We should be over there,’ she suggested, not wanting to be over there at all. ‘Or at least, you should. Perhaps I will go and talk to Axl? Make sure he’s not planning on getting himself into trouble.’
Eadmund’s face contorted as he stared at the conspiring kings. ‘I...’
‘Well, good then, we can meet up later,’ Jael said quickly and slipped away to find her brother.
Eadmund stared after her, frowning, then sighed and headed for the high table.
‘Eadmund!’ Lothar smiled as he approached. ‘We were just talking about you, weren’t we, my lord?’ he nodded at Haaron, who looked thoroughly unenthused, his face barely moving as he considered the new arrival. ‘About how many ships we might be able to put together between us to attack Wulf Halvardar.’
‘Well, hardly as many as we might have before you set fire to all of mine,’ Haaron said bluntly, pouring from the wine jug in front of him. He picked up his goblet, desperate for the tedious conversation to be over. His eyes wandered to his sons, who were entertaining the two queens. He couldn’t imagine their conversation was any better, but at least their company would have been preferable. Lothar Furyck had had a piece of kale stuck in his teeth all evening, and Haaron was growing tired of looking at it.
‘In war, we do what we must to further our own cause, but as allies... we will do all we can to support each other and more,’ Lothar said, glancing at Osbert, but his son had turned away, mesmerised by the same woman he had bedded the night before. Lothar frowned and turned to Eadmund instead. ‘A drink, my lord?’ he asked, nodding towards the jug.
Eadmund shook his head. ‘No, I think I’ll keep a clear head for tomorrow.’
‘Well, I suppose with a niece like mine, it’s always better to keep your wits about you!’ Lothar chortled, inclining his head towards Haaron, who sat back immediately. ‘Your son won’t have the same problems of course,’ he smiled, showing off his teeth again. ‘Amma is a compliant sort of girl, as she should be.’ He glanced towards Amma, who looked morose and lifeless, sitting next to Eydis. ‘Where is your son, by the way? My daughter appears quite lonely down there.’
Haaron turned to his right, annoyed to have Lothar point out his son’s absence. ‘Well, he cannot walk on his own, but I imagine he will be down shortly.’ He glared at Lothar’s teeth, irritated beyond measure.
Jaeger gave up and threw his boot across the room, hitting the wall with a dull thud.
Meena jumped and turned around, fumbling desperately with her dress strap.
‘You will need to help me downstairs,’ Jaeger muttered, his impatience with his swollen, festering ankle boiling over. He curled his knuckles into balls, smashing them onto the bed, furious with Jael Furyck and her knife.
‘Yes, my lord,’ Meena mumbled incoherently into her dress, pushing her hair out of her eyes. ‘I will.’
Jaeger stared at her then; his wide-eyed ugly duckling. He wondered if he had done enough to capture her loyalty. He frowned, uncertain; she wouldn’t even look at him. ‘Meena,’ he called softly, raising an eyebrow in her direction. ‘Come here, come sit next to me.’
Meena shuddered, swallowing repeatedly as she shuffled slowly towards him, overwhelmed by an odd mix of discomfort and desire. She was too shocked by the things he had done to her to even speak as she sat down next to him, tapping her foot.
‘You won’t tell Varna what we did, will you?’ he wondered coyly. ‘I’m sure she would stop you coming here again if she knew. She would try to keep you away from me. She doesn’t want to see you happy, does she?’ He reached out and brushed her hair away from her terrified eyes. ‘All she wants is the book. And she doesn’t care how she gets it, or who she hurts. She wants to help my father. And herself. And if we let her get the book, then we can never be together. They will continue to control us both. Decide who we can see, and when. Who we marry...’ Jaeger blinked, suddenly aware that he was supposed to be down in the hall entertaining his bride-to-be.
Amma Furyck.
A smile curled his lips. He was looking forward to tomorrow night.
41
‘Let’s go,’ Eadmund whispered.
Jael turned around, surprised. There was a twinkle in his eye that she knew well. ‘What about Eydis?’ she whispered back.
‘I’ve asked Fyn to watch her,’ Eadmund smiled as he reached out and took his wife’s hand.
Jael was caught between guilt and desire. She had missed Eadmund desperately, and there he was, himself again. ‘I’ll be back shortly,’ she muttered to Axl and Gant, avoiding their eyes as she followed Eadmund out of the hall.
Axl watched them go, the way they were with each other, trying to be discreet, but he could see. He knew what it felt like to be in love, to be co-conspirators. His eyes drifted towards Amma who sat next to Jaeger with a look of terror on her face. ‘What if
that happens to Amma?’ he asked Gant. ‘Jael loved Aleksander and didn’t want to marry Eadmund. But look at them now. And look at Aleksander.’
They both turned to where Aleksander sat, drinking with some of his men. Drinking too much. Miserable.
‘He is not like Eadmund,’ Gant smiled encouragingly. ‘You have nothing to fear. Just stay calm, and we’ll find a way to give you everything you desire.’
Axl blinked and stared at Gant whose eyes were so unreadable that he wasn’t sure what he was saying. ‘I want the crown,’ Axl whispered. ‘It’s mine. If I’m king, then I can make choices instead of being a victim, instead of the people I love being victims.’
Gant’s eyes darted about. The hall was overcrowded, brimming with loud, drunken men and less than impressed women, all mingling together in pre-wedding revelry. Lothar was within view, as was Osbert, and he didn’t see another pair of ears nearby. ‘I know,’ he said calmly. ‘Your father wanted it too. Perhaps he saw what Jael would become without Brekka. But he definitely chose you, Axl.’ Gant turned to him. ‘When we return home, we’ll find a way out of this mess.’ His eyes wandered to Gisila, who looked ready to cry as she sat wedged between Lothar and Bayla. ‘For all of you.’
Runa was becoming increasingly concerned by Evaine’s state of mind. She had sat at the table, pouring over that book all day long, ignoring everyone; not even touching her meals or looking at Sigmund.
And even now, as the candles flooded and the fire turned to embers, she hunched over the delicate vellum pages, her eyes frantically searching for... what?
Runa glared at Morac, raising her eyebrows towards Evaine.
Morac was almost nodding off and far less inclined to approach Evaine than he was his bed, but he could see Runa’s point, and, sighing, he eased himself out of the chair and walked towards her. ‘Perhaps it’s time we all made our way to bed?’ he suggested sleepily, stifling a yawn. ‘You have had a busy day, my dear. I imagine your eyes need some rest now.’