by Jason Malone
The twins, Roger and Rainulf, then called on King Stephan for aid, each presenting him with their claims in the hopes of gaining his support. Stephan chose to remain neutral, believing it best that the locals resolve this matter themselves, but he sent a dozen housecarls to ensure peace. He suggested an election, but the brothers would have none of it.
Seeing that the king would not come to their aid, Roger decided to publicly pledge his allegiance to Carol the Pretender. A riot ensued, with Roger and Rainulf’s supporters rising up to fight each other, and so the housecarls had to intervene.
They aided Rainulf, of course, in banishing Roger from Tillysburg. The king could no longer remain neutral, and so his housecarls declared Rainulf the legitimate earl and Roger a rebel and a traitor. Three days later, Roger returned to Tillysburg with several hundred warriors given to him by Carol.
They entered the city, slaughtered Rainulf and his supporters, and hung Rainulf from the bell tower.
But the real issue was when Roger’s warriors executed all twelve of the king’s men. The king could, in the interest of peace, tolerate the raids carried out by Carol’s rebels, but when treasonous noblemen killed royal ambassadors in Carol’s name, there was naught the king could do but go to war. If he did not crush the rebellion now, he would seem a coward and lose all claim to the throne his father usurped.
And so he went to war. The king was raising an army and summoning several of his nearby vassals to the capital, chief among these being Lord Odo of Everlynn, whose legendary army would make up almost a third of King Stephan’s. They were preparing to march directly on Tillysburg and the Pretender; the town now served as his base alongside his mountain fortress.
All this had happened over the month of Winterlow.
I learned of these events the day my friends and I left the woods and arrived at Everlynn. Lord Odo’s army had gathered outside the city’s gates and was preparing to march the morning we arrived. Four soldiers rode to meet us as we approached the city and requested that we follow them into the camp. Behind all the pleasantries and the illusion of free will, I knew we were under arrest. This was war, and Odo could not risk any unnoticed infiltration.
The soldiers said nothing as they led us through the camp. Tents were being dismantled and supplies loaded onto carts, while wives and mothers were saying their final farewells to their husbands and sons. Priests walked through the camp, blessing the soldiers, and bards sang songs to enthuse them.
Yet I sensed not a trace of fear among the men. These were soldiers — warriors — and war was their life. They welcomed the opportunity to crack some skulls and spill some guts. Many were veterans of the civil war and had fought for Odo, a supporter of Edwin who had been pardoned after the war. But now they marched to fight for the bastard son of the man who had usurped their king less than a decade earlier.
We arrived at a large, exquisite tent. I knew this would be Odo’s tent, and my suspicions were confirmed when one of the soldiers escorting us announced who we were to meet. The flaps were pulled back, I told my friends to let me do the talking, and then we entered.
It was large, and though it was cold outside, it was warm inside. A fire pit had been dug in the centre, and its heat was bouncing back off the tent’s thick walls. A makeshift dais with a small throne had been erected at the back. To its right there was a small dining area, and to its left was a table upon which sat a map and some figurines. Beside this was a mannequin holding Odo’s armour, and beside that was a weapon rack holding his sword, his shield, and his long axe.
Gods, what a fearsome axe that was.
Odo and three other men stood around the table. Odo himself was a formidable man. He made a name for himself during the Usurper’s War and acquired a fearsome reputation in battle, and this renown only enhanced his imposing nature. I had never met him before, but the tales I heard about him were all true. He was tall, about a foot higher than most men. He had broad shoulders, thick muscles, and a rigid jaw covered in neatly trimmed black stubble. He had long, dark hair that had been pulled back behind his ears and allowed to fall to his back, and although he was in his thirties, there were already grey streaks in his glorious mane.
He looked up at me. His sharp, dark eyes met mine and almost bored into my soul. Then he smiled, and for a second he looked incredibly familiar. “Guests,” he declared. His voice was deep but soft.
The men around his table all turned to look at me. I had no idea who two of them were —some courtiers or generals, I assumed — but I immediately recognised the third man. It was Hakon, dressed in mail and wearing a black cloak. A long, thin sword hung at his belt. He grinned at me, and winked, and I realised then where I had seen Odo’s smile before.
“These are my generals,” Odo said, gesturing to the men I did not know. “And this is my half-brother, Hakon.” The three men all bowed their heads. “Who are you?”
I hesitated. There was no use lying with Hakon present, so I introduced myself and my companions, and they all bowed.
Odo gave us a friendly smile and then waved to his men. “Leave us.” Once Odo’s generals and bastard brother had left and we were alone with the lord, he went to sit in his throne. “Are you all spies?”
“No, My Lord,” I said. “I haven’t even any idea why you are assembling an army.”
“You have not heard? The king has called us to war!” he said.
And that was when I learned of all that had happened in Tillysburg. Odo, realising we were ignorant of the situation, explained it all to us.
“If you are not spies, where have you all come from?” Odo asked.
“From Oldford, My Lord. We are travelling north to visit a friend of mine in the Capital,” I said. That was not entirely a lie.
Odo frowned. “On what business?”
“Does a man need a reason to visit his friends?”
Odo shook his head and smiled. “Edward. Edward from Oldford. Your name sounds familiar,” he said. He appeared to be lost in thought for a moment. “You mentioned that boy is your apprentice. What is your trade?”
“I deal with the Otherworldly, My Lord. I am one of the Gifted,” I replied.
Odo raised his eyebrows and sat up in his seat. “Ah, of course. Slayer of the vampire of Oldford, immortalised in song. I want your friends to wait outside so that we may speak in private.”
“She was a witch. And with all due respect, My Lord, it is cold outside.”
“They can wait in my other tent. Guard!” A soldier entered. “Take these four to my resting tent and give them whatever comforts they desire.”
Matilda and I exchanged a look, and I nodded. The four of them followed the soldier outside, and I was now alone with Lord Odo.
“What did you want to speak about, My Lord?”
Odo stood up from his seat, went over to the dining table, then filled two goblets with wine. “I have use for someone like you. I will pay, of course.” He handed me one of the goblets and took a sip from his own.
“I am sorry, My Lord, but I must reach the Capital as soon as I can.”
“That makes two of us,” Odo said. “The king has ordered that I travel north and join his army. That means we are both travelling north. You come with my army, and then we can part ways farther north. You take your payment and be on your way.”
“What is it you want from me?”
Odo sighed and went to stand by the fire. “My son cannot sleep. He is plagued by horrible dreams, and my priest tells me it is the work of a foul spirit. The physicians have been no use, and priests do nothing but pray, though perhaps a Godspeaker can help.”
“That sounds like a mara,” I said.
“Can you banish it?”
“If it is a mara, then yes. What will my reward be?”
Odo thought for a moment. “Ten pounds of gold. And I will happily conclude that you are not spies,” he said with a smile, and I knew at that moment I had no option but to accept. If I refused, he would detain us. But I would not have refused the wea
lth he offered, even if I did have a choice.
“It should be easy enough. May I see your son?”
“Not yet. He rode ahead with the vanguard, but we will catch up with him by nightfall. You can see him then.”
“Very well, My Lord. I will ride with your troops until your son is able to sleep properly again.”
“Good, good!” Odo clapped and then rubbed his hands. “Now, we should prepare to leave. I would hate to miss the war. Go and join your friends again. Once you hear the horn blow three times, we will leave.”
And so it was. A small northern town had some snow, an earl had died, a war had begun, and now my friends and I were bound to the service of one of the most powerful nobles in the kingdom.
Fate is a curious mistress indeed.
We received word that Odo’s vanguard, led by his son William, had made camp on the outskirts of a small manor called Hariton. The rest of the army was to meet the vanguard there and make camp for the night, so my friends and I rode with Odo’s oathmen all day long. It was around noon that Hakon brought his horse up beside mine and asked me to speak with him in private.
“It is good to see you again, Edward,” Hakon said. We had moved aside from the rest of the army and sat on our horses as we watched the column move slowly along the Royal Way.
“I would be lying if I said the same about you,” I replied.
“My heart breaks under the weight of your words.”
“I encountered some of your men on the road here.”
Hakon chuckled. “Ah, Leif. I was wondering if you had met him. I see you now have one of my men in your service.”
“Cubert was my oathman first. You sent Leif to burn my home and slaughter my people, and then you sent him to kill me. Why?”
“You offend me, Edward.”
“Your man took my friend’s eye.”
Hakon stared blankly at the marching army that passed by us. I could sense his anger, but he did well at hiding it. I suspected he was expecting to meet Leif in Everlynn with my sword and my head, but instead he had met me, which meant his warriors were dead. “It is nothing personal. I need your sword — the one you now wear at your belt, I assume. You would not sell it to me, so I was forced to take it. You and your men simply found yourselves in my way,” Hakon explained.
“I cannot let you release Emrys. I travelled north to stop you, and I intend to do just that,” I said.
A grin spread across his face. “I suppose I will have to kill you myself, then.”
“I am under your brother’s protection. He has a job for me.”
“A pity. But mark me, Edward. Once you are released from this contract, I will not hesitate to glide a blade across your throat.”
I did not respond to his threats. I kicked my horse and joined the army, leaving Hakon behind. He just sat on his horse and watched me. I wished I could have killed him then and there, but like me Hakon had the protection of the Lord of Everlynn. I would stay with Odo’s army and banish whatever spirit plagued his son. Hakon’s death would have to wait.
I did not see the wretch for the rest of the march that day. I suspected he rode with his own men. We arrived at Hariton just before sunset, and the army swiftly made camp. Dughlas and Cubert created a ring of stones for a fire, around which we erected the tents Odo had given us. Philip complained about Matilda’s tent being with the rest of ours.
“The men should all have one fire for us to share, and Matilda should take her tent elsewhere and build her own fire,” he told me.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because. We can talk about manly things like war, and politics, and ale.” Philip was serious, and I laughed. Despite his moaning, I did not make Matilda move her tent, and she teased him relentlessly about having to camp alongside a woman.
After the tents had been erected and we ate our supper, I received a summons to come to Odo’s tent for what I guessed would be my task. Philip needed a little taste of our trade, so I took him along with me. He was much happier after hearing that.
We walked through the camp to Odo’s tent. Philip admitted that he missed his home and his family, but he was excited to learn about how to properly use his gift. He told me that once he finished his apprenticeship, he would go back to Luria and use his new skills to make his family richer. That warmed my heart.
When we reached Odo’s tent, his guards ordered us to hand over any weapons we might be carrying. They let us inside, and we were welcomed by Odo. He handed us both a cup of wine.
“Edward! I have been waiting for you. And if I remember correctly, this is your apprentice?”
Odo stood towering above us. He was tall, taller than me, and was an imposing figure. His eyes were cold, but his smile was warm. I still did not know whether I could trust him.
“Yes, My Lord. He will be helping me,” I said.
Odo nodded. “Good. Now, let me introduce you. This is my son, William.” Odo turned and gestured to a young man, around eighteen or nineteen, standing at the back of the tent.
William gave me a tired smile and held up a hand in greeting. His grey eyes were heavy and had dark rings around them. He was pale and thin, wore a few days’ worth of stubble, and had an unkempt mane of dark blonde hair that fell to his shoulders. William was handsome, though, and had the look of his father, though evidently none of his strength.
What caught my attention, however, was the woman standing beside him. She wore a plain, dark green dress, unusually modest for someone of her status, and although she looked to be of similar age to William, her long black hair had a strange streak of silver in it.
Her most striking feature, however, was her skin. It was the colour of chestnuts, like Philip’s but much, much darker. I had only ever seen one person with skin like that before, and that was at the port in Tidegate, where I met an interesting man who had sailed from the lands to the west, across the sea. This woman did have that man’s look. Not only did she have his skin, but she also had his high cheekbones, wide brown eyes, and sharp nose.
“And who is this?” I asked.
“She is my daughter-in-law. Eleni is her name,” Odo said. Eleni stared at me with intense curiosity and then put her hand on William’s arm and whispered something in his ear.
I turned back to Odo. “I will need to speak with your son about his problem before I can know how to fix it.”
“Of course, of course. I have matters to attend to with my oathmen, so I will leave the four of you to it,” Odo said. He clapped his hands and left the tent. Philip and I went over to William and his wife to introduce ourselves.
“Edward, yes?” William asked. His voice was tired.
“Yes, My Lord. And this is Philip.”
William nodded and smiled at us, but it was clearly forced. Eleni gave a low curtsy. “Hello. Please, forget about your manners. My name is William, and I prefer that to ‘My Lord,’” he said. “Come, take a seat.”
William led us to the table and waited for us to sit before he too took a seat with a sigh. He downed the rest of his wine.
“Tell me about your dreams, then,” I said.
William closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “Gods, I do not even know how to explain them,” he groaned. “They started a fortnight ago and have plagued my sleep ever since. I have not slept at all in the last two days because I cannot bear to see…it again. I am tired.” Eleni watched her husband with a look of deep concern, and she took his hand.
“Could you tell me a bit about this thing that you cannot bear to see? What happens when you sleep?”
“I can try,” William sighed.
“That is good enough for me.”
And so William told me about his dreams. He said he had horrifying visions of death and torment from which he struggled to wake, but when he did wake up in the dead of the night he found himself dreadfully cold and unable to move, so he would just lie there, frozen.
Though that was not the worst part. Shortly after he would wake, the evil spirits from his dreams sur
rounded his bed. I asked him if they did anything, but he said they just stood there watching him. Sometimes they whispered to him in a language he could not understand.
Then a creature would appear and straddle him as if to ride him the way a lover would. Sometimes this creature took the form of his wife, other times the form of his sister, and every now and then it would appear as a horrid dwarf-like man. My suspicions had been confirmed.
“This spirit that rides you sounds like a mara and would be the cause of your evil dreams,” I told him. “Do you have mara in your country, Philip?”
Philip nodded. “We call them ‘pressers.’”
“What does this mara want from me? Am I being punished?” William asked, wide-eyed.
“Punished? Have you done something wrong?” I asked. William shook his head. “Mara will sometimes be sent by Hefenstea to punish wrongdoers or warn those with ill fates, but most of the time they act in the service of Vylan and choose their victims on a whim. Do you speak while you dream or while this spirit rides you?”
He shrugged and looked to his wife.
Eleni nodded. “He speaks. I do not know the language.” She spoke slowly, and her accent was very strong. Our language must have been new to her.
“Really?”
“That is what Eleni tells me,” William said. “The only language I know is ours, as well as a little of Eleni’s tongue. I do not know how I could speak any other.”
I rested my chin in my hand, thinking. “It is quite rare for a person to speak to a mara. This is interesting.”
“What does this mean? Why me?”
“I do not know. But what I do know is that I can banish your mara. I am sorry I cannot give you answers right away, William, but I will meditate on this. Try to get some sleep tonight. Mara grow stronger the wearier you are.”
William nodded and squeezed Eleni’s hand. She stared at me, as if wanting to say something, but then looked away. I finished the rest of my wine and stood.