by A. E. Rayne
Jaeger’s bed.
That felt strange too.
Everything felt strange, and she was desperate to leave, but at the same time, she didn’t want him to come back and find that she wasn’t there. And, at least it was a very comfortable bed; warm and soft and spacious, though she felt too shy to do anything but lie with her arms by her sides, her feet together, as though she was still in the narrow bed she had always slept in.
Meena took a deep breath and tried to remember how it felt when Jaeger had stared into her eyes, demanding that she leave Berard to be with him.
She wondered if, in fact, it had all been a dream.
‘Tie everything down!’ Bram roared as he swayed up and down the ship, trying to avoid the sea chests that were sliding across the deck. ‘Lash these fucking chests to the gunwales before one of us loses our fucking legs!’
Crouching, sodden men, wrapped in furry, rain-drenched cloaks crawled across the deck, waves tipping on top of them, water sloshing up and down as the ship tilted and rocked.
The furious sea was rolling, and the storm was sinking down on top of them, and the ship behind them was not one but three.
The dreamer had been right.
But as much as he felt sorry for her and wanted to help her and her husband, she wasn’t important. Nor was he, or, ultimately, even his men. They were mostly alone now, having lost their wives and children to that evil sickness.
Thorgils and Isaura and those children were important. And he had to help them get to Oss. ‘Ailo! Irjan! Bothi! Grab the bows and arrows! With me!’ Bram screamed, watching as Ailo crouched forward, and with Bothi’s help, lifted the wooden panels on the deck that covered their weapons store; handing out four longbows and four quivers of arrows.
It was going to be almost impossible, but they had to try something.
All three of them struggled over to Bram, who was busy tying himself to the stern. He’d managed to find more lengths of rope which he tied around the small prow as quickly as his slippery, numb fingers would let him. He handed them out to his men.
They were three of his best archers.
Bram wasn’t as good as they were, he knew, but once he’d had a fair eye and an arm stronger than anyone on Oss, apart from his brother, Thorgils’ father. But not many had been able to beat Bram Svanter with a bow.
He shook his wet head. That was a long time ago now.
Bram took the bow from Ailo, and slung a quiver of arrows over his shoulder, spreading his legs apart for balance, pulling back against the rope to see if it would hold. ‘The only hope we have is to slow them down!’ he cried. ‘So let’s tear their sails! Snorri! Keep us straight if you can! With a bit of luck, Ver might shoot some lightning their way too!’
Snorri snorted, but no one heard him as he gripped the shuddering tiller, anticipating the next bolt of lightning to hit.
It had to be soon.
The storm was almost overhead.
Ayla swallowed, watching as the four men drew back their bowstrings and released the white-tailed arrows into the night. The arrows were quickly lost in the darkness, but they released another and another. She wondered if they had any chance of slowing down their chasers. The wind was gusting sideways, making it unlikely that they could hit anything other than waves.
Ayla gripped Bruno’s hand as she leaned over him, shielding him from the worst of the weather with her shivering body. She had waited so long to be with him again.
She couldn’t let Ivaar take them back to Kalfa.
‘Morana!’ Jaeger hissed just as she was about to slither around the corner. He could hear the storm rattling the windows, fluttering the torches that burned along the stone walls of the corridor.
Morana sighed. She was eager to get to her chamber and not looking for any distractions. They needed to be up before dawn for the spell-casting, and she wanted to use all of that time to settle her mind and prepare her body for what would be the greatest spell she had ever cast. ‘Yes?’ she grouched, her impatience palpable as she yanked her head around.
‘You will remember to come to my chamber? When it’s time?’ Jaeger asked, certain that Morana was rolling her eyes beneath her thick fringe of hair.
‘I will,’ she said curtly, edging away.
‘And you think that the weather will allow it to happen?’ Jaeger wondered.
Morana’s shoulders slumped as she stopped. ‘It will.’
‘Good,’ Jaeger said gruffly. ‘I shall be waiting for you.’ And without another word, he left Morana to her impatient grumbling and disappeared in the opposite direction, smiling to himself.
He felt light-headed, excited for what was to come; eager to finally see what the book could do. Yet, there was a part of him that remained on edge. He could feel a new sensation lurking deep inside him. A burning, building rage.
The idea that anyone else would use the book...
It was bad enough that Morana touched it. But he needed her, Jaeger told himself. But she would have to let others see it now. Perhaps they would even touch it too?
He inhaled sharply as he stood before his chamber door, about to grip the handle. It had to happen, though. He couldn’t use the book or unleash the power he could feel, so desperate to escape its ancient pages.
Not without help.
‘Can’t decide if you feel like sleeping?’
Jaeger didn’t turn around. ‘No, I can decide just fine.’
‘But surely there’s more fun to be had when you’re awake?’
Now, Jaeger did turn. He glanced up and down the corridor, lowering his voice. ‘I’m sure your husband would agree, Nicolene.’
Nicolene’s eyes glowed with desire. She was still angry, but as she delicately nibbled her lower lip, she knew that she wanted Jaeger more than she wanted to be mad at him any longer. ‘He drank so much wine tonight that Haegen almost carried him to bed.’
Jaeger smiled. ‘Is that so?’ He leaned towards his sister-in-law until his face was almost touching hers.
She didn’t move.
‘He’s a solid sleeper,’ Nicolene murmured, her eyes never leaving Jaeger’s. ‘I don’t imagine he’ll wake till the sun comes up.’
It was Jaeger’s turn to bite his lip as he grabbed Nicolene’s hand. ‘Well, if that’s the case...’ He turned the handle and pushed open the door.
It was dark in his chamber, but the glow of the fire was enough to see by.
Jaeger took Nicolene’s face in his hands, kissing her, pushing her against the door. She responded eagerly, pressing her body against his, her lips urgent, her tongue exploring his mouth.
And then they heard a cough.
A tiny, subtle cough.
Thorgils held Isaura close, trying to ignore the distant wailing of her children, who were half asleep and distressed that she had left them with their servants and two men they didn’t know; distressed that the ship was rolling and the waves were crashing over the sides, and the thunder was booming, and they were at sea, far from home or any certainty they had ever known.
But Thorgils couldn’t let them hear. It would only make things worse.
‘I think Ivaar’s coming!’ he called into Isaura’s ear over the roar of the storm.
She stilled against him, stumbling as the deck tilted and Thorgils gripped her harder under the arms. ‘How do you know?’ she almost sobbed.
‘Bram’s sail is full! It’s just a guess, but no one unfurls a sail without reason. Not in this bowl of shit!’ It was just a guess, Thorgils thought to himself, but the sick feeling in his stomach wasn’t just from the sway of the storm, he was certain. ‘We’re going to have to try and outrun them! We can’t be far from Oss now! We just need to fly home before they catch us!’ He didn’t even wait for Isaura’s reply. He probably wouldn’t have heard it anyway, and the look on her face was enough to convey the terror she felt at the thought of Ivaar.
If it was Ivaar.
Thorgils shook his head, not wanting to be right.
But what else cou
ld it be?
‘We need weapons!’ he turned and yelled at his nearest man. ‘Stygg! Dig out the bows and arrows!’
‘In this weather?’
Thorgils looked so furious that Stygg scrambled across the deck without another word.
‘Keep bailing!’ Thorgils urged. ‘Keep bailing! And shut those oar holes!’ The deck was more than ankle deep in water now as it sloshed back and forth, side to side, up and down. It was not the most pressing problem he had, but it was worth keeping an eye on. Another wave hurled itself on top of Thorgils, and he blinked, shaking the freezing salt water out of his hair as Stygg struggled towards him with the bows and arrows. ‘Leave them here! Get some shields, swords too! A few spears! Let’s stock the stern full of what we might need!’
Stygg nodded and crawled back across the deck, his urgency now matching the look on Thorgils’ face. Neither man was smiling.
Thorgils closed his eyes and thought of Ran, curling under the stormy waves with her three-headed sea monster, Ilvari. He prayed that she would send her monster towards Ivaar and crush his ships.
He didn’t want to imagine that the gods were cruel enough to take away everything he had dreamed of for eight years in one stormy night.
Jaeger’s mind, which was not as alert as his body, stumbled in confusion. ‘Meena?’
Meena was too shocked to even tap her head.
She sat up in Jaeger’s bed, her mouth open, unable to move.
‘Meena?’ Nicolene was confused, following Jaeger’s gaze towards the bed. ‘What is she doing here?’
‘Meena works for me now, remember?’ Jaeger said quickly, stepping away from Nicolene.
Nicolene smoothed down her dress, aware of the sudden shift in things. ‘I see,’ she sneered, not seeing in the slightest. ‘And you let her sleep in your bed as payment for her services? That thing?’ Her nostrils flared in distaste.
Jaeger felt caught.
Frustrated.
‘Meena and I are... friends,’ he said slowly. ‘So, she can sleep where she likes. And I’m sure she’d rather sleep in my bed than Egil’s.’
Nicolene glared at Jaeger, not impressed by his attempt at humour. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, stretching out her neck. ‘I didn’t realise that your bed would be so full this evening. I shall get back to my own.’ She spun around and reached for the door handle, half imagining that Jaeger would stop her.
He didn’t.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Nicolene turned back to him, scowling.
Jaeger stared at her, not saying a word.
Clenching her teeth, Nicolene ripped open the door and stormed out of the chamber.
The storm was getting worse.
Eadmund lay in bed, unable to sleep. It was still early, he knew, and perhaps that was why he felt so awake. His mind was unsettled, worried about the fort. He had no choice but to worry now. They were his people. He had to make sure they were safe.
The responsibility he felt pressed him down onto the bed, and he didn’t even notice Evaine’s soft hand as she stroked his chest.
‘Can’t you sleep?’ Evaine murmured, sounding almost asleep herself.
Eadmund put his hand over hers, then brought it to his lips. ‘No, I can’t sleep in a storm. Not since I stopped drinking so much at least,’ he smiled, remembering how Jael had saved him from that.
Forced him to be saved.
Jael.
After all that she had done for him, he felt disloyal lying in the bed that they would have slept in together. If it wasn’t for Evaine...
Eadmund sighed, listening as the wind shook the window. He was glad that most of their ships were secured in sheds in Tatti’s Bay.
He hoped that Thorgils and Bram weren’t out in the storm.
18
They were gaining.
Bram was sure that the ships were gaining on them. The storm was gaining on them too. Buckets of rain washed around the deck, splashing over Ayla’s ankles as she waded unsteadily towards the stern, arms outstretched, gripping onto the nearest rope to steady herself.
Bram reached out to her as another wave broke over the ship. The arrows had made no difference that he could see. He had no idea if any had found their mark, but he didn’t want to keep sending them out into the watery abyss, wasting them.
He’d wait until the ships came closer.
‘We’re nearly at Oss!’ Ayla screamed in Bram’s ear as he gripped her elbow, keeping her upright.
‘You’ve seen this?’
Ayla nodded, cringing as a wave crashed next to them; shivering as the water hit her already frozen body. ‘Yes!’
Bram edged her towards Snorri. ‘Any idea where the fuck we are?’ he growled in Snorri’s ear.
Snorri shrugged. There was almost no way of telling. They would have expected to arrive in Oss’ harbour within a day of leaving Kalfa, which could be around now given the ferocity of the wind that was tearing into their sail.
He honestly didn’t know.
‘They’ll be on us before long!’ Bram yelled at Ayla. ‘Unless you can talk to the gods, I don’t know what more we can do!’
Ayla wiped the rain out of her eyes, terrified. She stared at him. ‘I can try!’ she cried desperately, thinking of Bruno; of Isaura and the children. ‘Help me! I need my chest!’
Meena felt foolish. Humiliated. Worthless and ashamed. Berard had been kind to her. He had offered her a future and showed her respect. And she had chosen his brother, who had immediately stopped noticing her; bored now that he had gotten his way.
‘Meena,’ Jaeger murmured. ‘She’s gone now. It’s just us.’ She had shuffled away to the opposite side of the bed, hiding beneath her hair.
He reached out a hand.
But Meena didn’t move.
Tired and impatient, Jaeger lunged for her, snatching her arm, pulling her roughly towards him. ‘If you wish to stay with me, then I think we need to discuss some... rules.’
Meena could smell Nicolene on him. Nicolene always smelled strongly of lavender. It turned her stomach. She wrinkled her nose, trying to ignore the pain in her wrist where his fingers were pinching her skin. She pulled against him, confused as to whether she was more afraid or angry.
But Jaeger didn’t care about anything she might have felt as he gripped her harder, then pushed her backwards, onto the pillows. He thought of the book, of what Morana would do with it in a few hours. Of Nicolene, who had left.
Of his father and brothers.
Of Berard.
He would destroy all of them. The book would show him the way.
His eyes glazed over as he held Meena down with one hand, and tugged his trousers off with the other.
Bram wiped his hand across his face, trying to see. The storm was lashing them with rain, thunder, and lightning. Even shouting, his voice was quickly lost amongst the howl of the wind.
He crouched down, trying to shield the dreamer from the worst of it so that she could work her... he wasn’t sure what.
Ayla had pulled a bag of stones from her chest and now sat wedged into a corner of the stern with Bram protecting her, the stones in her hands, her eyes closed.
Bram didn’t know nor care what she was doing. They needed all the help they could get to slip away from their chasers. He shook his dripping hair out of his eyes, not wanting to think about how they were going to get through the entrance to Oss’ harbour in this mess. Navigating those ship-wrecking stone spires was a challenge for the sharpest helmsman on the fairest of days. Bram turned around, trying to see Snorri through the driving rain. A shard of lightning struck nearby, highlighting his friend’s face: teeth gritted as his body shook with the strain of keeping the tiller tight against him.
Bram swallowed, his mouth dry despite the amount of rain and seawater that had been flooding it.
Ayla could feel him there, trying to shield her. The storm was a booming terror, demanding her attention, but she gripped the two stones in her hands as she sat, trying to take herself
into a trance; feeling the rhythm of the ship beneath her, surging on the waves.
The ship dipped, and she slid into Bram, but he held her, and she stayed still for a moment, repeating her words over and over; inhaling the wet, salty air; tasting it on her tongue; smelling it in her nostrils; listening to its wild, whistling fury as it burrowed into her head. She tried to imagine Veiga, Goddess of Weather, rising above them, arms outstretched, throwing great balls of dark thunder and spear-tipped shards of golden light down to destroy them all.
Ayla needed to find her. To reach her. She had spoken to the gods before.
She needed to do it again.
And quickly.
Eadmund had not been able to get back to sleep.
He’d left Evaine dreaming beneath a big bundle of furs, and had slipped out of the hall, wrapping his thickest cloak around himself, pulling his hood down over his face as he moved quickly across the rain-lashed square.
He could hear the thunderous growl of the sea in the distance, the eerie scream of the wind as it raced past him. He saw flashes of lightning slice through the dark sky. Ver was in a foul mood, he smiled to himself as he hurried to the gatehouse, determined to get up onto the ramparts.
Eadmund had a bad feeling. Whether because of Ivaar or worrying about Thorgils, he didn’t know. But something wasn’t right, he was certain.
Thorgils could see them now.
Lightning exploded across the sky like white flames, opening a brief window into the darkness, and standing in the stern, gripping hold of a rope, Thorgils could see Bram being chased down by three ships.
His stomach clenched into a tight knot.
He would not let Ivaar take Isaura.
The waves were higher than Oss’ hall, and it felt as though Ice Breaker was sinking into them, being sucked down into Ran’s desperate embrace. But then they would dip and come up again, high, high up, and at that moment, as they crested the wave, Thorgils caught a glimpse in another flash of lightning.