by A. E. Rayne
Jael scowled. Her grandmother had guided and advised her throughout her life. Her visions had always come true – well, those that she had told her about, at least. There was no reason to doubt her now as much as she wanted to. ‘But Eadmund Skalleson? Eadmund the Drunkard?’ she snorted. ‘That’s the husband your gods see me with? Are you sure you have the right man?’
‘Well...’ Edela admitted with a twinkle in her eye, ‘that part of my dream is a little confusing, but yes, Eadmund. He is the one I have always seen.’
‘The one?’ Jael felt ready to vomit. She absentmindedly sipped the hot tea, grimacing as it scalded the tip of her tongue.
‘Well, he hasn’t always been known by that name, has he? He was Eadmund the Bold when you fought him all those years ago.’
Jael tried to recall the fleeting moment she had trapped him beneath her sword, but it was so long ago now. She didn’t remember him at all. She gritted her teeth, overcome by another burst of seething rage. ‘No! I’m not going to do it! I’m not going to leave Andala! What about Axl? Who will look after him? Or you, or Mother? And what about Aleksander...’ Her angry eyes softened suddenly, and she sighed.
Edela reached out and took Jael’s hand, her eyes full of sympathy.
Jael snatched it back. ‘You never thought that Aleksander and I were meant to be together. I knew that,’ she said harshly.
‘No,’ Edela admitted. ‘That is true, as much as I love you both. But you and Eadmund, I believe, are meant to be. I have dreamed about this since you were born.’ She stared earnestly at her granddaughter. ‘I know it for certain. He is the father of the child you will have.’
Edela’s words were delivered so effortlessly that Jael almost didn’t hear what she’d said, but shock suddenly flooded her entire face. ‘Child?’ she breathed, as realisation dawned. ‘Of course, that’s what they want me for. They don’t want my sword. They want my belly full of heirs!’ She looked defeated. Deflated. ‘And you see that as my future? A mother? A wife?’
‘Yes, there is that, but you will have your sword, of that I have no doubt.’
‘Well, not according to Lothar.’
Edela raised her eyebrows. ‘Things are not always as they seem. Our lives shift and change like the clouds. Nothing stands still,’ she smiled. ‘I see you with your sword. Do not worry.’
Jael felt confused, if not slightly heartened by that news.
But a child? With Eadmund the Drunkard?
How was she going to tell Aleksander?
Osbert was drunk.
Drunk and pissing against the side of the blacksmith’s shed, when he saw Jael heading in his direction. Blinking to try and clear his blurry vision, he shook off his dripping cock, resettling his fur cloak. Sucking in his rounded belly, he stepped out into the street, snatching his cousin’s arm as she flew by.
Jael jerked around in surprise, wrenching her arm out of his grip. Seeing that it was Osbert, she was eager to be gone, but he reached out and grabbed her roughly, his sharp fingernails pinching into her now. She glared down at him, her face betraying no signs of the discomfort he was causing. ‘What do you want, Osbert?’ she fumed as the wind screamed between them.
He almost stumbled then, his footing uncertain in thick mud, but he righted himself quickly, narrowing his mean eyes. ‘This could all have been so different, Jael,’ he slurred through freezing lips. ‘You need not have become a pawn in my father’s game. You could have stayed here in Andala, as you have always wanted to, as Queen of Brekka. As my wife.’ He was leaning closer now, his sour spittle blowing over her.
Jael curled away from him in disgust, yanking her arm free and standing her ground firmly. ‘You?’ she mocked. ‘You think you’d make a better husband than the Drunkard? You think I’d rather have Osbert the Coward in my bed?’ she laughed. ‘No, Cousin, your father has made me a much better match. I’m touched by the honour he has shown me.’
Her words slapped Osbert across the face. Colour rose in his cheeks as he pursed his thin lips, trying to contain his fury. ‘If you say so, Jael,’ he sneered, eyeing her threateningly. ‘But, just remember... while you’re on Oss with your new husband, your fat belly, and your runt litter of slave princes, I will be here watching over your family.’ His satisfaction bloomed as he watched fear spark in Jael’s eyes. ‘You never know what accident may befall them if you’re not careful. I’d hate for you to lose another member of your dwindling family.’ His threat expertly delivered, Osbert smiled and turned, stumbling away towards the hall, where he planned to warm his bones and drown the miserable bitch out of his head.
Jael watched as Osbert was sucked back into the night. If anyone was capable of true evil, it was her cousin. He had wanted her as his wife, but thankfully, Lothar had seen no benefit in such a marriage for his only son. Jael had rebuffed his constant advances and made a fool of him more times than she could count.
Now that would come around to haunt her.
She would have to leave everyone behind with Lothar and Osbert.
It would be like leaving a litter of kittens in the care of two starving dogs.
Aleksander was waiting when Jael arrived back at Gisila’s cottage, his dark eyes troubled. He wasn’t easy to anger and even now, when faced with losing her, he managed to retain a level of unnatural calm. They had been inseparable for 17 years, lovers for the past 12. He wouldn’t accept that this was the end.
He couldn’t lose her.
‘Jael.’ Aleksander came towards her as she entered the cottage, but Jael’s arms remained firmly by her sides as she stopped before him.
She could barely look at Aleksander’s face. His thick eyebrows twitched above a pair of hooded deep-brown eyes, almost black, and so full of concern. Dropping her head, she hurried to warm her hands by the fire, where she waited, trying to think of what to say to any of them. Eventually, shivering as some feeling returned to her body, Jael turned around.
‘What did Edela have to say?’ Gisila wondered anxiously. She had been talking about nothing else since Axl and Aleksander had arrived.
Jael ignored her. ‘Where were you?’ she asked, staring accusingly at Aleksander.
He was surprised by that.
‘I was hunting. I told you before I left,’ he answered defensively, coming to join Jael by the fire. ‘I went to the hall to find you. Gant told me what had happened, so I came straight here.’
‘You’re back late.’
‘It was wild out there. I could barely see. I wasn’t going to risk Ren.’ He shook his head, confused. Worried. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Lothar made his... announcement.’
Jael swallowed at the reminder, dismissing his words. She was angry at him. Unfairly so. What could he have done to make anything different? It would have made it worse to have him there. Worse for him to be humiliated in front of everyone as his woman was taken from him and given to another, less worthy man.
‘Jael.’ Gisila was insistent now. ‘What did your grandmother say?’
Jael sighed, walking a treacherous path in her mind. ‘She... she thought it was... the right thing to happen. She’d seen that it would happen.’ Jael couldn’t say any more. She looked away into the corner of the room, her heart and head swirling with confusion.
Aleksander’s face fell.
Jael had always been an impossibly stubborn woman. If she believed in a cause, she would fight. She would never give in. He’d witnessed that enough times. But now, as she hung her head and hid her face, he knew.
He turned and left the cottage without another word.
Jael looked up to see the door hanging open in his wake. Her shoulders drooped.
This was not going to be easy, whichever path she decided to take.
‘The right thing?’ Axl looked doubtful as he strode over to face his sister, who was almost as tall as he was. Almost as tall as their father had been. ‘How is this the right thing for you, or us? They will make you a breeder! You’ll be lost to Brekka forever! There’ll be no hope of
me taking the throne from Lothar without you, which, of course, he knows.’ He was angry and frustrated. He’d imagined that Jael would do anything to stay in Andala. That she would never give up the chance to reclaim their father’s throne.
To defeat Lothar and Osbert.
He didn’t understand her lack of reaction at all.
Jael rounded on her brother. ‘How will my staying here change anything?’ Heated now by the warmth of the cottage and her own discomfort, she removed her cloak and threw it over a chair, leaving the fire to stand further away, uncertain how or where to be. ‘What have we been able to do to weaken Lothar’s position since he arrived?’ she whispered hoarsely. Lothar’s spies were everywhere, and she didn’t want the wind carrying her words out into the night. ‘He has the army behind him. He turned all of Father’s men against us. There’s nothing here for us. No future. No hope. It’s gone, Axl!’ She gestured around the tiny cottage. ‘Does this look like the home of Brekka’s royal family anymore?’
‘Well, we won’t know now, will we?’ Axl spat defiantly, his temper rising to match hers.
Jael stepped towards her brother, glaring into his simmering hazel eyes. ‘You think there’s something I could do to change this?’ she demanded. ‘Kill Lothar? And then, what? Kill Osbert? And how would his men respond to that? Happily? I don’t imagine so. Or, we could run, but where would we go? Lothar has allies in nearly every kingdom, and those he isn’t allied with would still turn us in. No one wants Brekka as an enemy. We would never be safe! Is that what you want? For our family to run until we’re hunted down and slaughtered? Can you see Edela living like that? Mother? Biddy?’
‘Stop!’ Gisila implored, coming between her two children. ‘Come and sit down, both of you. This is no night to be on different sides. We must stay united if we’re to stay alive.’ She sighed deeply. The sudden change in their circumstances had left her feeling so much older than her 52 years. Her long, dark hair was now thick with silver strands. Her once much-admired figure was frail and thin. She had been the Queen of Brekka for nearly 30 years. Married to Ranuf, a man she had fought and argued with, loved and despised, in equal measure. The shame of being reduced to this lesser existence had damaged her pride. The loss of her husband had broken her spirit. But she had hope still, and that hope was living within Axl and Jael. She knew that the way back to her rightful place in Brekka was through them.
If only she could keep them believing that.
‘And what about you, Mother?’ Jael wondered sharply. ‘Why didn’t you know that any of this was coming?’
Gisila looked surprised. ‘Why would I?’
‘You and Lothar are very friendly, Mother,’ Axl said, joining his sister. ‘Especially since Rinda died.’
Gisila felt offended to be under attack. ‘Not like that, we’re not! Nor have we ever been, if you’re to know the truth of it. Lothar may wish for things, but I am no slave as things stand, and therefore he will not get anything from me that I do not wish to give. And I do not wish to give that!’
‘Still, you’ve always been close to him, Mother.’ Jael wasn’t letting go that easily.
‘And if I am?’ Gisila whispered crossly. ‘I need to keep us all safe. It’s not just the two of you who are thinking of our future.’ She shook her head, tears leaking into the heavy creases around her swollen eyes. ‘I’m trying to keep us all alive! Do you think I want to do that? Placate the man who stole the throne from you, Axl? No, I do what I must to protect us all. It is not easy, but what choice do I have? What choice do any of us have?’
Tears slid down Gisila’s face and Axl, who hated to see his mother cry, put an arm around her shoulder.
Jael stared blankly at the door, wondering where Aleksander had gone; wanting to be with him but at the same time desperate to grab her horse and ride until she couldn’t be found. Inside her head, she could hear herself screaming to find a way out, but Edela’s words echoed too, imploring her to keep to the path before her. The path that only Edela and her gods could see.
Beside her, Gisila sobbed, and Axl simmered.
And Aleksander had gone.
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Winter’s Fury
Also available
The box-set of the first three volumes
in A.E. Rayne’s Furyck Saga
The Furyck Saga books 1-3
CHARACTERS
THE KINGDOM OF BREKKA
In Andala
Jael Furyck
Aleksander Lehr
King Lothar Furyck
Osbert Furyck
Gudrum Killi
Brynna ‘Biddy’ Halvor
Edela Saeveld
Gisila Furyck
Gant Olborn
Amma Furyck
Oleg Grenal
Jonas Elstan
Isaak Alfarr
Tiras
THE KINGDOM OF THE SLAVE ISLANDS
The Island of Oss
Eadmund Skalleson
King Eirik Skalleson
Eydis Skalleson
Thorgils Svanter
Morac Gallas
King Ake Bluefinn
Lord Hector Berras
Lady Cotilde Berras
Orla Berras
Evaine Gallas
Runa Gallas
Entorp Bray
Torstan Berg
Sevrin Jorri
About A.E. Rayne
Upon discovering that her chances for inventing a time machine were rather slim, 8-year-old A.E. Rayne decided to pursue a career as a writer instead. She completed a Bachelor of Communication Studies, majoring in television, then trained as a graphic designer, while dabbling in poetry, and continually plotting her first novel.
A.E. Rayne survives on a happy diet of historical and fantasy fiction and particularly loves a good Viking tale. Her favourite authors are Bernard Cornwell, Giles Kristian, Robert Low, C.J. Sansom, and Patrick O’Brian. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband and three children.
Kings of Fate is a prequel novella to her
epic fantasy series, The Furyck Saga.
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Copyright © A.E. Rayne 2020
All artwork © Cap & Anchor Design Co. Ltd
A.E. Rayne asserts the moral right to be identified
as the author of this work.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places described in it are the work of the author’s imagination.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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