Night of the Shadow Moon

by A. E. Rayne

  Nicolene’s anger overrode her embarrassment, and dressed now, she stood. ‘And how will you go to war against a group of islands when you have no ships?’ she asked coldly. ‘No ships at all! And why would you even want to try, when they can just throw more fire balls at you? Why make a war you don’t need? So more men can burn? More ships can be lost? So Hest can become even more of a joke?’

  Jaeger was annoyed by her attitude; enraged by the reminder of his failures. ‘Is that what Karsten says?’ he demanded, striding around the bed. ‘That we shouldn’t even try? That we should admit defeat?’

  Nicolene’s laugh was bitter. ‘Karsten?’ She turned away from him, too livid to stay any longer. She had lain awake for hours, dreaming of him, eager to escape her marriage bed; concocting a story that Karsten would find believable, but Karsten hadn’t even been awake when she’d slipped away.

  Nicolene was annoyed that it had all been for nothing; that she would simply have to return to Karsten. Moaning, limping, pathetic, one-eyed Karsten. ‘What do I care what he thinks? Or you? Fools!’ she spat angrily, reaching for the door handle. ‘Fools who will get us all killed!’

  Jaeger rushed towards her, grabbing her hand. ‘Or fools who will make Hest the greatest kingdom in this land! You would do well to hold your tongue around the man who intends to make that happen, Nicolene. Wives are easily replaceable, you know. And widows are completely irrelevant. It’s best not to make enemies with the one man who could save you from either fate.’

  He was hurting her, squeezing her fingers, but her anger was burning with such intensity that she barely noticed. Ripping her hand out of his grasp, she glared at him before yanking open the door and slamming it behind her.

  Meena’s head went up at the sound of the door, and she looked down the corridor to see Nicolene stalking away from Jaeger’s chamber. She felt a pain somewhere deep inside; a hot rush of jealousy. Ducking her head away, she swallowed, reaching for Berard’s door handle, trying not to drop the logs she was carrying, determined to shut Jaeger out of her head once and for all.

  Eadmund did not want to leave the bed.

  It was his father’s bed, which felt strange. Evaine had been in it with him, and that felt stranger still. He had dreamed of her, vividly, as though she was still there, wrapping herself around him like water. His body stirred and he had a sudden urge for ale.

  He frowned. That desire felt oddly familiar, and yet, it was a thirst he had not experienced in a long time.

  Had the tincture stopped working?

  Jael had been so cold and calm, but he knew that he’d hurt her. She was his wife and his queen, but she was not the woman he loved, and for so long he had been blind to that.

  It had always been Evaine. He knew that now. He had fought his way through the murky clouds of his mind and found Evaine, waiting there for him.

  If only he could decide what to do about Jael. What could he do? She was his wife. His father had wanted her for him. Eydis, too. And Jael had saved him, but perhaps that was all she was supposed to do? To save him in time so that he could become king.

  But as for love?

  Eadmund closed his eyes and remembered the feel of Evaine; the softness in her eyes, the urgent desire in her tiny body. She was his again.

  And together, they had a son.

  That was what his father had wanted most of all. For him to have heirs, to be happy. And now there was a chance he could be.

  If only he could think of what to do about Jael.

  Marcus Volsen, Elderman of Tuura, sat by the fire, warming his feet.

  The tiny enclave of Tuura clung to the very tip of Osterland’s northern reach, and it was rarely warm. Even during high summer, Tuurans wore thickly woven cloaks, for when the sun disappeared behind the clouds, they all shivered, deprived of its benevolent warmth.

  ‘When?’ he asked the woman who sat opposite him.

  Her name was Ada. She was a dreamer.

  ‘Within days,’ Ada murmured.

  Marcus narrowed his gaze, watching her shy and shrink away from him. ‘You are certain? There can be no mistake?’ It was pointless asking a dreamer such a thing, he knew, especially Ada. She was Tuura’s most experienced. Old now, but her dreams had only become more accurate as her wrinkles had deepened.

  She nodded.

  He frowned.

  ‘Well then, leave me. I must prepare myself to welcome our visitors.’ His dark eyebrows knitted together, his jaw working away furiously as Ada creaked up from her stool and padded to the door.

  Marcus’ eyes moved to the fire.

  Jael Furyck. At last. He ran a hand over his short, dark beard.

  He did not have long to make sure that everything was ready.

  ‘Is everything ready?’ Jael asked Thorgils, who looked flustered as he raced around in circles on the foreshore. ‘Thorgils?’ she grumbled, reaching for his arm, demanding his attention. ‘Is the ship ready? We need to bring Edela down.’

  They were taking Sea Bear to Tuura, and Beorn had been at work all morning preparing a secure bed for Edela; building wooden guardrails they would wrap with furs to lessen the impact of the waves on her weak body. Sea Bear’s house was still intact, but her catapult was being removed to leave room for Tig.

  Jael was not leaving Tig behind.

  Or the puppies.

  If she had her way, she’d take them all. Thorgils and Eadmund too.

  But Eadmund was no longer hers, and Thorgils needed to stay and keep him safe. But the rest of them?

  They were all going.

  ‘No, not yet, but soon,’ Thorgils said at last. ‘Beorn’s still fussing. Fyn and Axl are in there, helping him. Amma’s making it comfortable. She’s taken most of the bedding from your house, I think! Beorn’s trying to build a box for the puppies too.’ Thorgils frowned, feeling odd. He would miss those puppies.

  It felt as though they weren’t coming back.

  ‘Give me some of your hair,’ Jael said quietly.

  ‘My hair?’ Thorgils looked horrified, then realisation dawned. ‘Oh, for dreaming! I thought you wanted a keepsake to remember me by.’

  Jael couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I’m not that fond of you!’

  ‘Well, Jael, I’m not sure that’s true,’ he winked. ‘There are not many who can resist my charms, you know. Even a woman as stubborn as you.’

  Jael smiled, enjoying the sensation before it was quickly replaced with a frown. ‘You will keep Leada safe?’

  ‘With my life,’ Thorgils promised. ‘I will.’ He glanced around. ‘She’s Eadmund’s horse, so I can’t imagine Evaine having a problem with her.’

  ‘Well, don’t give her reason to have a problem with you,’ Jael insisted. ‘Stay on her good side. And Morac’s. They’re working together with Morana to control Eadmund. I don’t want them working against you.’

  ‘I think I’ll be safe now that Entorp has had his way with my arms,’ Thorgils grimaced, reminded of the pain that still lingered from his recent tattooing.

  ‘Edela wasn’t,’ Jael said in warning. ‘If you try to come between Evaine and Eadmund, you’ll not be safe. And if you want Isaura back, you have to look after yourself.’

  That straightened Thorgils’ spine. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to have Isaura back again.

  Osbert’s shoulders slumped in relief at the sight of Saala’s gates.

  The sun, though new, was already scorching. Sweat dripped down his back, streaming past his temples into his eyes. He was looking forward to shelter, a seat that wasn’t a saddle, and a cool drink of ale.

  But more than anything at that moment, he was desperate to set fire to his father.

  He had not thought it right for a Furyck to be cremated in Hest. A noble Brekkan king should not have his pyre in Haaron’s kingdom. So, they had borrowed a cart and a pair of horses, wrapped Lothar’s stiff, stinking, headless corpse – and his head – and brought him with them.

  And the flies had followed.

  And now, after three
days of steaming under the sun, their old king was stinking like an overflowing midden. And worse. Osbert had never smelled anything so stomach-churningly awful. He was desperate to turn his father’s corpse to ash just to be rid of the vile stench.

  Osbert held up a hand and his man, Oleg, rode up to join him.

  ‘My lord?’ Oleg panted, just as hot and nauseated by the stink as his new king.

  ‘We cannot be sure what trouble my cousins may have stirred up on their return to the islands,’ Osbert said quietly, batting away a persistent fly. ‘Rexon never appeared particularly loyal to my father, did he?’

  ‘Well...’ Oleg mused, then quickly realising that it was pointless to have an opinion that wasn’t Osbert’s, he coughed and dropped his head. ‘No, lord.’

  ‘So, perhaps Jael is waiting for us? Perhaps they have set an ambush?’ It was a thought Osbert had chewed over the entire journey. He saw betrayal in every shadow, in every pair of eyes around him.

  Two kings had died. Each one cruelly murdered.

  He did not feel safe.

  ‘They would not have the men, my lord,’ Oleg reminded him. ‘We have the Saalans with us. They would only have Rexon’s garrison to turn to their favour. And I doubt there was time to organise any reinforcements from the islands.’

  He didn’t look certain, though, and Osbert’s fears were not eased. ‘Send your men in first. You lead them in. The rest of us will remain here until you give me the signal.’ He felt his shoulders tighten again, his nostrils flaring as a warm breeze wafted another wave of his father’s fly-blown corpse towards him. ‘And make it quick!’

  ‘It’s best that you stay away, Evaine,’ Eadmund urged, watching the fire build in her eyes; feeling his body respond quickly to it. He blinked, trying to force himself away from her, but it was not easy. ‘They will be gone soon. Very soon. Just stay here. Jael and I must talk. There are things we need to discuss. About the island.’

  Evaine pouted, enraged by the idea of him being anywhere near his wife. ‘She chained me to the Wailing Post!’ she grumbled, annoyed that he had done nothing to make that right.

  Eadmund brought his hands up to her face, ignoring her petulance. ‘Stay here with Morac, please,’ he soothed, kissing her. ‘She’ll be gone soon.’

  Evaine sighed, impatient but accepting. Jael leaving so soon was more than she had hoped for. But what if she were to find a cure for Edela in Tuura? What if Edela were to wake and tell Eadmund what she had done? Would his connection to her and her control over him be strong enough to withstand that? Evaine stood on her tiptoes and stared into Eadmund’s eyes. ‘Don’t be long. I just want us to be together. All of us. Now.’

  Eadmund smiled and turned away. ‘Soon,’ he promised over his shoulder. ‘We will be. Soon.’

  Morac crept up behind Evaine. ‘What did I tell you?’ he whispered. ‘He’s yours now, isn’t he?’

  Evaine watched Eadmund as he strode away. Yes, he was. At last. But now she just needed to find a way to stop Jael from ever coming back to Oss.

  She needed to speak to Morana.

  ‘And?’ Jaeger hovered impatiently behind Morana as she sat at his table, pouring over the book.

  Morana spun around, whipping him with her hair. ‘You must decide what you want. This book is powerful, and with it, you can create true destruction. But what is it that you wish to achieve first?’

  Jaeger had thought that it would be obvious, but her question gave him pause. He walked towards the window, peering down to Hest’s charred harbour. The harbour with no ships. No piers.

  He thought of his father. His brothers.

  His wife.

  ‘I want to be king here,’ he said, turning around. ‘I cannot do anything until I am.’

  ‘You want to kill your father? Kill your brothers?’ Morana laughed. ‘You do not need this book for such insignificance. You can do that in many ways that require no magic at all!’

  Jaeger frowned and walked back towards the table, leaning over the book.

  ‘You must desire more than that? Surely?’ she wondered carefully. ‘This book did not seek you out because you are a man of small ambition. A man meant to become just another forgotten Dragos prince. This book was meant for one worthy of its true, horrible darkness.’

  Jaeger felt a violent throbbing in his chest, jerking in his limbs. The book was calling to him, drawing him in, demanding more of him.

  Challenging him.

  He cocked his head to one side. ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘You can become king here easily enough, but you must seek more for yourself and this kingdom. You must seek the destruction of all others so that Hest becomes the only kingdom in this land.’ Morana’s eyes were dark as she inhaled the ancient power of the book herself. ‘You have enemies, the ones who stole your wife, who humiliated you, burned your ships, cut your ankles, hurt your brothers. You must crush them all. But especially...’ Morana stopped and stared at Jaeger, ensuring he heard this most of all.

  He wasn’t even breathing as he lost himself in her hypnotic eyes. ‘Especially?’

  ‘Especially, Jael Furyck. She is the one who will stand between you and all that you dream of. She is the one you must kill. For if she lives, you will not.’

  ‘My lord?’ Meena mumbled again, desperate to tap her head. The sun was up and warm now, and she wanted to wash Berard’s bedsheet and clothes and have them drying in the sun.

  She needed to get down to the stream quickly.

  Berard wasn’t listening, though, as he stared out the window. He was thinking about Jael. She had warned him about Jaeger, urged him to protect Amma, and he would have, he was certain. He was glad they had taken her with them, imagining what might have happened if she’d been left behind. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, turning to Meena. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I must go,’ she said, nodding to the bundle in her arms. ‘To wash.’

  ‘Oh,’ Berard smiled. ‘Yes, you go. You don’t need to ask my permission, Meena. I’m happy for you to do whatever you think is needed. And please, you must call me Berard.’

  Meena blushed, easing herself out of the chamber. Smiling awkwardly, she shut the door and scurried away.

  Berard turned back to the window, frowning suddenly. He had to keep Meena away from his brother. Jaeger was changing so quickly. It may have been too subtle a difference for anyone else to notice, but Berard could see it.

  For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel safe around Jaeger.

  He wondered if any of them were.

  Aleksander helped Jael manoeuvre Tig onto the ship.

  Tig knew Aleksander. He trusted him. And Aleksander’s soothing voice helped him focus on Jael and the carrots she was holding on board Sea Bear. Aleksander coaxed him up onto the platform they had pushed alongside the ship, and from there it was a quick jump over the gunwale.

  Jael smiled in relief, working quickly to secure Tig to the pole Beorn had attached from the prow to the roof of the house. She hoped that the weather would treat them fairly as she’d likely need to keep Tig company for the entire journey.

  Jael held out her last carrot to Tig, her eyes resting on Eadmund, who stood on the stones saying goodbye to Eydis.

  He did not look happy.

  ‘Jael will take good care of me,’ Eydis insisted firmly, not about to have her mind changed.

  ‘Yes, I know she will,’ Eadmund muttered. ‘But, Eydis, you’re my sister. I’m responsible for you.’

  ‘But Jael is my sister too,’ Eydis reminded him. ‘She’ll keep me safe.’

  Eadmund wrapped his arms around her delicate frame, holding her tight against his chest. He felt muddled again, his mind swirling with memories.

  ‘Ivaar will come,’ Eydis said suddenly, pushing herself away from him. ‘He is making plans. You must prepare for that, Eadmund. He won’t give up until he destroys you.’

  Eadmund looked surprised. He hoped that she was right, but at the same time, he felt anxious that they would not b
e ready. ‘I will. Thorgils will help. Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you return.’

  Eydis was suddenly terrified. The idea of leaving him with Evaine...

  But they couldn’t help Edela or Eadmund if they didn’t go to Tuura.

  ‘We must hurry, Eydis,’ Biddy said gently as she walked up behind her, watching Beorn eyeing them irritably over the gunwale. Edela was on board, secured into her specially made bed. The puppies were in their box. Everyone was ready to leave.

  Except for Eydis and Fyn. Biddy looked across to where Fyn stood, saying goodbye to Runa.

  ‘I wish you would come, Mother,’ Fyn whispered anxiously, gripping his mother’s gloved hands. ‘You’re not safe here.’

  Runa tried to look more confident than she felt. ‘I have to stay,’ she said firmly. ‘That poor baby needs me. Evaine does not care for him. And Eadmund. Someone must be here to help Thorgils with Eadmund. Morac will keep me safe from Evaine, don’t worry.’

  It was brave of his mother, Fyn decided. The easiest option was to escape with them; to be safely away from Evaine. He felt proud that she was trying to do the right thing.

  If it was the right thing.

  He hugged Runa, then turned and hurried towards the ship, fighting back the tears he could feel burning the corners of his eyes.

  Jael jumped down onto the foreshore. ‘You get on board,’ she said to Biddy as Eadmund gripped Eydis around the waist and hoisted her up to Aleksander.

  It was not easy to let her go and Eadmund didn’t look away as Aleksander placed Eydis gently on the deck and led her towards Amma.

  ‘We’ll return when Edela is well again,’ Jael said coldly, trying her best to meet Eadmund’s eyes. She kept seeing Evaine’s triumphant face and had to fight the desire to erupt in anger or dissolve in tears.