by A. E. Rayne
‘Gudrum will leave tomorrow morning!’ Osbert called after her, seeing that Jael had no intention of stopping to talk with him.
And then, Jael did stop.
She spun around, glaring at her cousin who straightened his spine as he approached. His face was freshly shaven, his pale-brown hair combed until most of the kinks had been smoothed away. He had even changed his trousers, though now he felt irritated that he’d bothered. Jael was staring at him as though he was shit stuck to the bottom of her boot.
As usual.
‘What do you want, Osbert?’ Jael sighed, opening up her hands in confusion. ‘A smile? Conversation? Coins?’ And shaking her head, she turned away, heading across the square, ignoring the whispers and the looks that followed her, and her own feelings of terror that a maniac like Gudrum Killi was about to ride off with her horse.
Sweeping his cloak around, Osbert hurried after her. ‘I’m not after anything, Cousin. Just thought you’d like to know. In case you wanted to say goodbye.’
Jael stopped again, spinning around, hearing the barely-concealed glee in his voice. ‘And you think that will get me into your bed, do you? Playing games? You think that’s the best strategy to get what you want from me?’ She stepped forward, leaning over her shorter cousin. ‘Hurting me? You think you’re hurting me?’
Osbert stepped back, jutting out his chin. ‘I think you get what you deserve, Jael. When you reject opportunities for a better life, you get what you deserve. If you’d made a different choice, I could have protected you. Protected your horse. My father would have listened to me.’
‘What?’ Jael could see her mother coming towards her with Osbert’s younger sister, Amma, and the worried expression on Gisila’s face checked her anger somewhat. There was more than just her own fate to consider, she knew. They had all lost a lot when Lothar had stolen the throne, but none more so than Gisila who had gone from being the Queen of Brekka, living in the comfortable King’s Hall, to sharing a dark and tiny rundown cottage with her son and a servant. ‘You think you have some sway over your father? That he cares what you think about anything?’
‘I’m his closest advisor!’ Osbert insisted, puffing out his chest, though he immediately doubted his own words. Lothar was fickle. Changeable. Some days it was as though they ruled together. Other times he worried that his father was going to have him killed.
‘You’re his only son, so he endures you,’ Jael said, reading the doubt in Osbert’s eyes. ‘If it doesn’t serve his interests, he won’t listen to you. Surely you know that? You must see how things will go?’
‘Jael!’ Gisila exclaimed, panic stripping her voice of any strength as she forced her way into the conversation. Her smile was tight, and her sunken dark eyes were blinking rapidly, worrying that her fiery daughter was about to cause trouble. She’d heard what Lothar had done with her horse, and she didn’t want Jael to make things even worse, for surely it could get worse? ‘Aleksander was looking for you. He was outside the armourer’s. Something about a new shield?’
Jael could see the fear in her mother’s eyes, and she took a breath, nodding. ‘Alright. I was just wasting my time here anyway. Lothar wouldn’t listen to you even if I was your wife, Osbert.’ She shivered, not wanting to imagine that horrific fate. ‘When are you going to see the truth?’
Osbert was too busy frowning at Jael to notice the smile on his sixteen-year-old sister’s pretty face as she dropped her eyes, hiding her lips behind a hand.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ Gisila insisted with a quick nod to Amma, not wanting to be left alone with Osbert.
Jael didn’t hear her as she stormed off, desperate to get away from her cousin before she made things even worse by punching him in the mouth.
They had talked for long enough for Ake and Eirik to realise how much sense it made to formalise an alliance. One that would benefit both kingdoms, and give them the promise of help from their neighbours across the Akuliina Sea in times of trouble. For both kings, and their dreamers could feel trouble coming.
But then there was the problem of who would come after them.
‘My wife is with child. My dreamer believes she will have a son.’ Ake’s grin brightened his face. He felt a surge of pride and excitement. Terror too. Estrella had lost two babies trying to give him a son, and he worried about both her and his unborn child. Though his dreamer had seen that the boy would arrive in the winter, his shoulders remained permanently frozen with tension, hoping the old woman was right.
Eirik’s eyes were bright, though a little blurry after so many cups of his strongest wine. ‘That is something to celebrate for sure!’
‘It is, and it gives me hope for my kingdom. I would not want to leave it in the hands of my daughters and whatever husbands the boys they are promised to turn out to be. How could I trust them to do what is right? To do what I would have done?’ He swallowed, not wanting to imagine his little girls as married women. They were only eight and nine. Too young for such talk.
‘You have a long time to hang on, then!’ Eirik joked, his blue eyes bursting open. Then his face fell. ‘My son is...’ He didn’t know where to begin.
‘He needs a wife!’ Ake slurred, spilling wine on his red tunic. ‘Every man needs a good wife. Women bring out the best in us. Good women, with clever heads on broad shoulders. He needs a wife!’
‘I’ve been trying, believe me,’ Eirik groaned, his back aching now. The temperature was plummeting, the shrinking flames not enough to keep the chamber warm. He could feel a cold draft rushing under the door, more wind creeping in through holes in the walls, fluttering the tapestries. And reaching for the woodpile, he threw another log onto the flames. ‘Eadmund is not as open to the idea as I am.’
‘Then you must give him no choice!’ Ake insisted. ‘Which is why I brought Hector along with me. His daughter too. She is a fine woman, wouldn’t you say? Hector is my closest friend, my most loyal lord, and his daughter is smart and kind, the sort of steady hand your son appears to need in his life. She would make a good wife, a good queen, I’m sure. It is worth considering. A way to further strengthen our ties.’
Eirik grimaced, caught somewhere between joy and pain. He lifted his shoulders, straightening his aching back. ‘I... she is certainly striking to look at.’
‘She is. But also generous and sweet. Funny too. My wife spends a lot of time with Orla, and she considers her highly. In fact, it was her idea. A way to unite our two kingdoms.’
‘And... she would be... open to it?’
‘Hector has let himself be guided by her. She’s found no one to capture her interest yet, so we shall have to see. But don’t worry, I imagine the thought of becoming a queen one day will be impossible to resist, despite any... problems your son may have.’
Hearing a loud crash from the hall, Eirik swallowed. Likely Eadmund, he thought, wondering how eager Hector Berras and his daughter would feel once Eadmund fully revealed what a mess he was. ‘We should get back to the hall. I would like to see my son, talk to him about things. Or, at least, try to sober him up.’
Ake laughed, wobbling to his feet. ‘Yes, we have a long night ahead of us, I’m sure. If your son can last that long!’
Jael and Gisila reached the armourer’s without an argument, but that was mainly because Jael was so tense that she couldn’t even peel her lips apart. Tense and conscious of the need to keep her thoughts to herself. Gisila had become fretful and frail since her husband’s death. Lothar hounded her, and she pacified him, hoping to keep her children safe, out of his clutches. Any hint that Jael would step out of the shadows and cause trouble had Gisila panicking.
As she was now.
‘I’m sure Edela would appreciate a visit,’ Jael suggested, hoping to send her muttering mother on her way. She glanced at Aleksander, looking for his support.
‘I’m sure she would,’ Gisila said tartly, stumbling back as two yapping dogs chased each other around the armourer’s hut, one of them getting sent on its way with a sharp kick t
hat had Jael frowning. ‘And I will go and see her, but before I do, you must know that Gudrum Killi is not a man to play games with.’ Her voice was a whisper, and Jael stepped closer, grabbing her mother’s arm.
‘Why do you say that?’
Gisila glanced around, tucking her long dark hair behind her ears, tired of the wind tangling it in her mouth. ‘After you killed Ronal, Gudrum was... understanding,’ she began. ‘He seemed to accept Ranuf’s decision that there would be no repercussions, no blood price. But it was just for show. Gudrum was only biding his time, waiting to take revenge.’
Jael was surprised to hear that. She blinked at Aleksander who looked just as shocked. ‘What did he do?’
‘Plotted to kill you. He was plotting, with his friend, that one-armed man, what was his name...’
‘Bilic?’ Aleksander suggested, old memories stirring of the time when they were training to be warriors, both of them looking up to Ranuf and his close circle of men, Gudrum and Bilic included.
‘That’s right, Bilic.’ Gisila shuddered, lowering her voice even further, her eyes always moving. Into the armourer’s hut. Down the muddy path lined with lopsided wattle fences, smoke pumping all around them from the worksheds lining the path. The armourer was next to the blacksmith, next to the silversmith, next to the tanner. The combined stink of all that bone-coal, urine, dung, and smoke was eye-wateringly unbearable. ‘Gudrum had it all planned out, how he would ambush you, kill you, make it look like it was raiding Islanders sent by Eirik Skalleson. We would have believed it, wouldn’t we?’
Jael’s mouth hung open. Her father had never told her.
‘But what happened?’ Aleksander wondered.
‘Bilic couldn’t go through with it. He couldn’t betray Ranuf like that, so he confessed all. Ranuf had men searching for Gudrum. Gant was there. Oleg, I remember. But Gudrum had already left for the safety of Iskavall. Welcomed by Lothar and Hugo Vandaal. Ranuf brought it up, of course, when he visited Ollsvik, but Gudrum denied it, and Hugo, with Lothar in his ear, wouldn’t go against him. Then Bilic died mysteriously not long after, so there was no one left who -’ She stopped suddenly, smiling as Lothar appeared around the corner. ‘Lothar!’
Jael and Aleksander froze as their king waddled into view, cloak flapping behind him.
Lothar’s fractious mood brightened at the sight of Gisila, and he smoothed down his black moustache, licking his lips, stopping close by her side. ‘Getting weapons made, Gisila?’ he joked, nudging his shoulder into hers. ‘Hoping to come along with us to see to the Hestians?’
Jael thought she might vomit, watching as her mother transformed her anxious frown into a pleasing smile.
‘No, not for me,’ Gisila laughed. ‘I would hardly know what to do with anything more dangerous than a brooch pin.’
Lothar patted her arm, standing even closer. ‘Which is exactly how it should be, my dear.’ He eyed Jael. ‘We don’t want a kingdom full of sword-wielding women like your daughter here, do we? Who would do all the menial chores? Who would keep the men happy in their beds?’
Aleksander bit his tongue. No matter how much they all wanted to fight back against Lothar, they knew there was little point in causing trouble. Their future rested on the smallest of certainties. One tiny step in the wrong direction, and who knew what Lothar would do.
Jael didn’t bite hers.
She was finding it increasingly hard to keep herself together at all. Some days the fire building inside her was easily controlled; she could clamp her lips together and maintain a dull-eyed look. Other days the burning heat proved too much to contain. ‘I’ve never had any complaints,’ she muttered, jaw clenched.
Recognising the look on her daughter’s face, Gisila hurried to distract Lothar who had already stiffened in response. ‘The market looks busy this morning,’ she smiled. ‘You must be pleased to see so many traders in the harbour. I saw a lot of ivory and so many furs. I must find something to warm up my cottage before winter arrives.’ She was mumbling about nothing that mattered, but it did serve to distract Lothar, whose attention was quickly on Gisila’s deliciously pink lips.
She looked tired, he thought, but still more desirable than any woman in Andala. ‘Well, why don’t I walk you down there and we’ll see what we can find. I’m sure they would be more than happy to supply their best furs to the king.’
Gisila nodded, slipping away before either Lothar or Jael could say another word.
And lifting a hand to his simmering niece and her almost-holding-his-breath lover, Lothar followed after her.
Thorgils grabbed Eadmund by the collar of his tunic, trying to get his friend to focus as he eased him down onto the bench. ‘Eirik will be back soon, and he’s going to find a dribbling mess unless you sit up!’ He was too uptight to have touched more than a few cups of ale, knowing that Eirik had left him in charge of Eadmund, and after too much mead, his friend was predictably starting to lose control of himself.
Eadmund kept seeing the girl with the flaming orange hair everywhere he turned, and her presence was agitating him. She was hard to miss, and he felt embarrassed seeing the pity in her sparkling blue eyes when she turned them on him. They were so bright, like the sky on that rare day on Oss when it wasn’t grey or raining, snowing or blowing a gale. That one perfect day of pure blue, cloudless sky.
Eadmund blinked, trying to right himself, though his body, lacking any muscle now after years wasted in the pursuit of ale and women, made no effort to do what he wanted. It slumped over the table like a pile of sloppy mud. His hazel eyes were defeated as he turned them up to his friend. ‘Maybe water?’
Thorgils looked surprised, but he hopped away to find Eadmund a cup of water, banging into Eirik who had returned with Ake Bluefinn, both of them unsteady on their feet now; broad grins on flushed faces. ‘Sorry!’ he exclaimed, hoping his king was too drunk to notice Eadmund’s predictable demise.
Eirik did notice, but encouraged by his talk with Ake, he ploughed forward, taking a seat next to his son, hoping to sober him up. Grabbing the cup out of Thorgils’ hand, he sniffed it before smiling in approval and handing it to Eadmund. ‘This will help. A few of these and we’ll go for a walk.’
‘In this weather?’
Rain was dripping somewhere behind them, falling down the smoke hole, splashing the flames, running in under the hall doors.
Everything was quickly becoming a soggy mess.
‘It’s just what you need,’ Eirik insisted, a smile on his face as he watched Orla Berras talking with her attentive mother. ‘That wind will wake you up, I’m sure.’
Eadmund wasn’t, but sensing everyone’s eyes on him, he sipped the water and tried to still the sway of his body, nodding mutely, tired of feeling like a useless fool.
5
After arriving back at their cottage, Jael and Aleksander had encouraged Biddy to go and visit Edela, much to her annoyance. Biddy was always pleased to visit Edela, but not so pleased to think that Jael and Aleksander didn’t want her to hear what they were planning.
It worried her as she trudged away from the cottage into a sudden downpour, carrying a plate of smoked sausages and cheese. A few figs too. She knew how much Edela liked a fig.
Jael shut the door, feeling it wobble loosely in her hand. They would have to replace it before winter, she thought distractedly, turning to Aleksander who sat on their narrow bed with a frown.
‘You can’t take Tig,’ Aleksander sighed. ‘I can’t take Tig.’
‘No, Edela’s right,’ Jael agreed. ‘We have to let Gudrum leave with him.’
That didn’t sit right with either of them.
‘So, we follow him?’
Jael nodded, joining Aleksander on the bed, pressing her body against his, her lips near his ear. Lothar had spies in the fort, though she still wasn’t certain she knew who they all were. Greed was a weakness often not revealed in a character until it was tested. And Lothar, though his coffers were emptying fast, was not afraid to spend his gold and silver coi
ns on getting what he so desperately wanted, which was a way to get rid of her. Lothar Furyck may have been a king, but as powerful as that made him, he was always at risk of losing support if he made a move to oust his niece and nephew. He had to tread carefully, and that made him vulnerable. ‘You should follow Gudrum,’ Jael whispered. ‘Lothar will expect me to do something. Or maybe he won’t, but Osbert certainly will. That sneaky little shit will be watching. And Tiras.’
‘Well, Tiras is always watching.’
‘They may be watching you.’ Jael frowned, wondering if that was true. Sometimes she could sense things so clearly. Other times it was all a muddy blur. ‘I’ll do something to keep their attention here, on me.’
Aleksander leaned back, staring into her eyes. ‘What sort of something?’
‘I don’t know. Gudrum will have taken my horse, so they’ll be expecting me to cause a fuss. Lothar will be hoping for it, so it would be strange if I didn’t react.’ She blinked as another idea came to mind. ‘Unless I try to distract Osbert instead?’
‘No.’ Aleksander didn’t like that idea. ‘You’re a terrible liar.’
Jael couldn’t even smile, but it was true. ‘Osbert said Gudrum’s leaving in the morning. I asked around, and apparently, he’s going to join his men in Orlstad. His ship is there. They’ll be sailing to Stornas.’
‘And he’ll just have the men he came with? The rest have gone from Ollsvik?’
Jael nodded, her hand on his leg. It kept twitching; unusual for a calm man like Aleksander. ‘But even so, you can’t go alone.’
‘There’s only five of them. Best we keep it simple.’
She glared at him. ‘You can’t go alone.’
Aleksander nodded reluctantly. He didn’t doubt that Gudrum had brought his hardest men to Andala with him, anticipating trouble. Despite his round cheeks and a hint of a belly, Gudrum still looked made of iron; they could both see that. ‘I’ll ask Jonas. He’s always keen for some trouble, especially since Malin died.’