Night of the Shadow Moon

by A. E. Rayne

  He did, indeed, Morana could see as she peered at him through her knotted mane. Sitting there, twitching with urgency, desperate to use the book again. She smiled as she shuffled over to where he sat, enjoying his distress.

  ‘Had a nice sleep?’ Jaeger sneered.

  ‘Well, if you wish to know what a dreamer sees, you would be wise to encourage a dreamer to sleep!’ Morana sneered back. ‘Unless you think that I can dream with my eyes open while talking to you?’ She turned and glared at Meena, surprised that she was still there.

  What did he want with the stupid girl?

  Jaeger stared impatiently at Morana. Her tongue was sharper, her voice harsher and her mind quicker than Varna’s, but Jaeger didn’t care about any of it; he just wanted her to help him use the book again. ‘What did you see, then, in your dreams?’ he asked, placing his goblet on the table, all of his attention on her.

  Meena swallowed, terrified to hear how desperate he sounded.

  ‘I saw the new King of Brekka on his way to Tuura.’

  Jaeger froze. ‘Tuura? Why is everyone going to Tuura?’

  Morana’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say a word.

  And nor was she going to, Jaeger could tell. ‘And my wife?’

  ‘She is there, beside him,’ Morana replied. ‘She loves him.’

  Jaeger gripped the stem of his silver goblet so hard that he wondered if he could, in fact, snap it. ‘Then we must use the book! Kill them both!’

  ‘Of course. We can and we will, but for now, I think you have greater problems to attend to here. With your father. He is sending you away from Hest.’

  Meena turned to Jaeger, whose eyes widened in surprise.

  Berard felt lonely as he stared at his empty fireplace.

  He sat in his chair in the dark, remembering how he had watched Meena setting the fire for him. He hadn’t been able to sit still, constantly offering to help. She had flapped her hands at him, tapping soot all over her hair.

  He smiled.

  It was so quiet in his chamber. He had not noticed how quiet until Meena had come and gone. She had only been there briefly, he knew, but he had enjoyed being with someone who didn’t sneer at him, or ignore him, or make fun of him.

  It reminded him of talking to Jael Furyck. She had listened to him, then warned him about Jaeger, but he hadn’t listened to her.

  He wished that he’d told her about the book.

  Berard was certain that everything had changed when that book had turned up. The brother he knew was long gone now.

  And Jaeger had taken Meena with him.

  Now she was lost to him too.

  Berard’s shoulders slumped as he realised that he was fooling himself.

  She had never been his to begin with.

  Jael glanced at Tig as she hurried to the rear of the stables. There were no torches back here, and she merged quickly with the shadows, feeling her way to the door of the secret room, unlocking it with the largest key from her pouch.

  But Marcus was not waiting for her.

  Jael shut the door quietly, swallowing in anticipation. ‘Who are you?’ she asked, on edge, preparing for it all to be a trap; planning what she’d do if it was.

  ‘My name,’ the woman said, clearing her throat, ‘is Hanna.’

  24

  They were morose now. Drinking to the men they had lost.

  Ivaar was glad that one of Borg’s brothers hadn’t gone down in the lost ship, or he imagined they’d be drinking for days. And he needed them to focus on what they had to do next.

  Attack Oss.

  If only they could agree on how to do it.

  Ivaar glared at Frits who was so distracted by what his wife was doing that he could barely hold his attention for a moment. ‘Frits!’ he grumbled for the third time. ‘You need to look at the map!’

  It was a shit map, Ivaar decided, to go with the shit hall and the shit food. But there was, at least, a rough outline of Oss on the table; enough for them all to see where they could aim their attack.

  Borg’s youngest brother, Toki, who barely had a curl of hair on his face, looked confused. ‘Why would we creep over rocks, when we can just sail straight through there?’ He leaned over the map, pointing to what almost looked like the mouth of Oss’ harbour.

  Ivaar stared at Toki as though he had spoken Siluran. ‘What?’

  Borg pushed Toki out of the way, embarrassed, but covering it up with a blustery growl. ‘What my brother is trying to say is that perhaps a direct attack would be our best option.’

  ‘For what?’ Ivaar snorted. ‘Getting defeated?’ He shook his head, looking for some support from Frits who once again had his old, weeping eyes elsewhere. ‘The fort overlooks the harbour, and the only way up to it from there is a steep hill. There’s nothing to stop you from getting an arrow in the face on that climb. And they’ll have enough of those to kill us all.’

  ‘But will they?’ Frits wondered, suddenly paying attention. ‘Will they have many arrows? After the attack on Skorro, there might not be many left at all.’

  Ivaar was impressed. Someone with an opinion that wasn’t stupid and ill-informed. But still... ‘We should divide our fleet. If you wish to risk getting shot at, you and your brothers take the fort head on. The rest of us can creep over the rocks to the rear.’

  ‘Are there gates at the rear of the fort?’ Borg wondered, glancing at Falla Hallstein as she approached. A fine shape of a woman, he thought to himself, with a face that didn’t turn his stomach; obviously imprisoned in an unsatisfying marriage to a limp, old man.

  ‘There’s a door,’ Ivaar said quickly, trying to keep everyone’s attention. ‘It’s hidden, but I know where it is.’

  ‘Why did you give me this?’ Jael asked sharply, turning over her palm to reveal the flat river stone. It was the same as the one Marcus had given her.

  ‘That symbol is carved into this room to protect us from the dreamers. I have more of them for you to give to your family,’ Hanna said, edging forward, opening her purse and handing Jael three stones. ‘My father cannot carry them. It’s too dangerous, which is why we made this room.’

  ‘Your father? Marcus is your father?’

  Hanna nodded sadly.

  ‘But elders... they aren’t allowed to have children.’

  ‘No. I, I was a mistake, you could say. My father loved my mother, but he had spent his life working towards becoming an elder, so he left her behind in Helsabor. He didn’t know about me when he left. He didn’t know about me for many years. Not until I came here looking for him after my mother died.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jael started to relax. It was too dark to make out much about the woman, but Jael knew that she was the one who had bumped into her earlier that day. She had slipped a note into her hand with the stone, arranging to meet in the room. ‘And now? You know everything? He trusts you with everything?’

  ‘He has to. They have slowly killed off everyone else. Every dreamer who was loyal to him has been killed or sent away. They’ve removed the scribes from the temple too. It’s not safe here anymore. My father, he wants me to leave. He wants me to go back to Helsabor, but we both know that The Following could kill me just as easily there if they had a mind to. They’re everywhere, growing stronger each day. Especially now that the Book of Darkness has been found. They are bolder, coming out into the open, revealing themselves without fear.’

  Jael frowned. ‘I’ve been thinking about that book today,’ she said, taking a seat on the hay bales. ‘I was hoping to speak to your father about it, but perhaps you can help me? I think I have a plan.’

  Aleksander had quickly set a fire, desperate to take the chill out of their weary bones, and they sat around it, defeated, hoping for better luck in the morning. They had walked all day, coming across just the one farm whose two horses had been in the fields when the ravens had flown through. The farmer and his family had sheltered in their home, but the ravens had killed the horses.

  Aleksander threw a small branch onto the flame
s and yawned. His body ached. The arrow wound in his shoulder had been torn open by the birds, and the other cuts they had made nagged at him. His body was not as uncomfortable as his mind though, which was buzzing with anxiety.

  He didn’t want to imagine what might have happened in Tuura.

  ‘But how do you know it was her?’ Amma wondered as they went over his dream again. ‘The Widow? Is she even real?’

  Aleksander opened his mouth, searching for an escape from the conversation; a way not to have to explain it at all. But he didn’t see how he could avoid the truth. Not now. And so he told them about his visit to the Widow, when he had been searching so desperately for some hope that he would be with Jael again.

  He told them about what Edela had discovered in Tuura; how his mother and grandmother had both visited the Widow.

  He didn’t know more than that.

  He didn’t know who she was or if they could trust her.

  But after the raven attack, how could they not?

  ‘I’m no dreamer,’ Aleksander sighed. ‘But that dream?’ He shook his head. ‘That was like nothing I’ve experienced before.’

  Amma blinked. ‘We have to get to Tuura as quickly as possible. There must be some horses nearby.’

  Axl was just as anxious as they were, but the part of him that hoped he was a king now felt slightly more hesitant. ‘What if it’s a trap?’

  ‘Well, if it’s a trap,’ Aleksander mused, ‘we can hide in the forest, see how things lie. But for now, we should trust in the dream, I think. We’ll find out soon enough whether I’m right.’

  Axl frowned so deeply that his head ached. He was still not convinced that they should follow the Widow’s advice. But he could hear the certainty in Amma’s voice and the resolve in Aleksander’s. ‘Well,’ he sighed, ‘we’d better get some sleep then if we’re going to try and find a way to Tuura in the morning.’

  Amma smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘I’ll do it!’ Hanna said eagerly.

  Jael was surprised. ‘Is there no one else you can think of? No one you trust?’ She didn’t know what to make of Hanna. She seemed brave, quick-thinking, smart. It would make sense to send her, but she was Marcus’ daughter. She doubted that he would thank her for sending his only child away on a dangerous mission.

  ‘There’s no one else,’ Hanna insisted. ‘And this is important.’

  ‘It is,’ Jael agreed. ‘But I’m not sure that it will even work. Who knows what is happening in Hest.’

  ‘I understand, but I can try. I can leave tomorrow. There are merchant ships in the harbour. They come and go most days. You just need to tell me what to do when I get to Hest.’

  ‘You will have to find Berard Dragos,’ Jael said slowly. ‘He is the king’s third son. You’ll need to find some way to get him alone. Tell him why you’ve come. That I sent you.’

  ‘But he won’t trust me, will he? Or even believe what I’m saying. He won’t just give me the Book of Darkness without any proof that I’ve come from you.’

  ‘No,’ Jael agreed. ‘Remind him of the time we ate in the kitchen together, about what he promised me. That he would look after my cousin. Tell him that the book will consume his brother and that if Morana uses it, she will destroy all of Osterland.’ Jael’s shoulders were tight at just the mention of that evil book. After what had happened with the ravens... she shook her head, wondering if they were already too late.

  Hanna nodded, a dark shadow in the dark room. ‘I’ll try and remember.’

  ‘As long as you remember that it’s Berard Dragos you need to find,’ Jael said, suddenly worried. ‘He’s our only chance to get that book. But if he still hesitates, tell him that I had a dream about him. He’s in danger. He should leave with you. Tell him that I’ve seen him covered in blood.’

  Hanna stilled, suddenly aware of the seriousness of her mission.

  ‘Do you know how to use a sword?’ Jael asked, sensing her hesitation.

  Hanna shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Do you have a knife?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, make sure its sharp. And if you get into trouble, use it quickly. Slit a throat if you can. Someone with a slit throat is not as likely to scream.’

  Hanna shivered at the weight of those words. ‘I will try.’

  ‘Good. Then you should go and prepare yourself. Find a ship in the morning. Think of a reason for going to Hest. For being there when you arrive. You don’t want to arouse any suspicions.’

  ‘I will, thank you,’ Hanna said, swallowing. ‘My father is locked in the temple now from what I hear. Gerod Gott has taken control. He is a strange, strange man. I hate to think of what he will do to my father, but if somehow you do see him, please tell him that I... love him.’ She stood quickly, feeling a sudden burst of emotion about leaving behind the only family she had left.

  ‘I will.’ Jael stood and watched her walk towards the rear door. ‘Be careful. And good luck.’

  Hanna nodded and slipped through the door.

  Ivaar was sleepy as he stared into the flames. They were mesmerising, and his limbs which were aching and heavy with ale hung around him, and his eyes which were grainy with sea salt started to close.

  He thought of Isaura and Ayla.

  Had Isaura taken Ayla with her? Were they all gone now?

  He sighed. He would miss his children, perhaps, but not his wife. He could get another dreamer, and certainly another wife, and she could have more children, but the thought that Thorgils and Eadmund had taken everything from him now stirred his blood.

  His island, his fort, his home, his lordship.

  His wife, his dreamer, his children.

  And even before that, his throne. His throne.

  Ivaar’s eyes burst open, and he was wide awake again.

  He was stuck here with a bunch of bloodthirsty idiots who only appeared motivated by how many people they could kill and how much damage they could inflict while doing so.

  It was not a wise man who bargained with an idiot. And although Ivaar considered himself a wise man, he was a man who had run out of options. Frits Hallstein and the Arnessons were all he had now.

  He closed his eyes again, determined to get some sleep, for in the morning they would leave to attack Oss and reclaim everything that was owed to him.

  Eadmund couldn’t sleep, despite the comforting warmth of Evaine as she lay curled into his side. His mind was full of securing defenses, the worrying lack of arrows, approaching storms, how to protect his ships.

  Jael.

  He was surprised by that. But there she was. Not in the same way that Evaine was in his head. It was different now, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what she would do or say. He missed the way that she was always chewing over a plan.

  He missed her opinions, her advice.

  Although, he smiled wryly, it was not really advice when it came from Jael.

  It was more of an order.

  Eadmund thought of his son in the next room. Ivaar would kill him. He would probably make Eadmund watch before killing him too; before he killed Thorgils and Torstan and Bram, and every man he knew and cared about on the island.

  His island.

  His and Jael’s.

  He closed his eyes, at last, remembering Skorro and Hest.

  Remembering his wife.

  Jael crawled into bed beside Edela.

  Kormac was on watch now, and she had to get some sleep before she took over from him again. Eydis was curled up with the puppies, and she couldn’t see anywhere else to lie.

  But she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be.

  Except beside Eadmund.

  Jael sighed and reached down for Edela’s hand.

  She closed her eyes, the day rushing by in a terrifying blur, but somehow, in the midst of all that terror and destruction, her grandmother had come back.

  But for how long?

  Jael felt Edela squeeze her hand. She opened her eyes, staring into the darkness, seeing
nothing but shapes. It was cold in the house tonight. They had put out the fire early and blocked up the smoke hole.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ Jael whispered, staring at the shadow of her grandmother’s face. ‘Are you in there?’

  She felt another squeeze and almost cried with happiness. ‘Well, that’s good to know, because I need you. You can’t leave me. I’ve lost Eadmund. I can’t lose you too. You have to come back. You have to help me get him back.’ She tried to blink away the tears rolling down her face.

  Tears wouldn’t help.

  Edela pulled her hand away and reached up slowly, trying to find Jael’s face. And finding it, eventually, she gently stroked away her tears.

  And Jael cried.

  Meena felt scared. Terrified.

  She reached for the door handle anyway.

  ‘And where do you think you’re going?’

  Meena jumped, biting her tongue as Egil crept up behind her, glaring at her in the dim light of the bedchamber. Glimpses of moonlight shone through the window, and the banked fire emitted a warm glow, but Egil’s face was dark and menacing. ‘I’m, I’m,’ she whispered, trying to find words in the muddle of her mind. ‘I’m going back to my chamber.’

  Egil frowned. ‘Why?’

  Meena shook, desperately trying to avoid tapping her head. She needed to think, and quickly. ‘I, I cannot sleep here. I feel strange.’

  Egil kept frowning. He was unfailingly loyal to his master, but he simply couldn’t understand why he had invited this idiot girl into his bed at all.

  But here she was. And if she was here, then she was going to stay here while his master demanded it. And while his master demanded it, he was going to help his master enforce it.

  Egil reached out and grabbed Meena’s wrist, pulling her away from the door. ‘Well, better get used to it, girl,’ he rasped, feeling powerful in his position. ‘Because you’re not going anywhere unless my lord says so.’ And he dragged Meena back towards Jaeger’s bed, his rough hands pinching her skin.