by A. E. Rayne
Books by A.E. Rayne
Winter’s Fury (Book 1)
The Burning Sea (Book 2)
Night of the Shadow Moon (Book 3)
Hallow Wood (Book 4)
The Raven’s Warning (Book 5)
The Furyck Saga (Books 1-3)
The Raven’s Warning
The Furyck Saga - Book 5
A.E. Rayne
Contents
Map
Previously…
PROLOGUE
I. LOST AND FOUND
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
II. THE CURSED
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
III. THE VALLEY
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
IV. RISSNA
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
V. MY FATHER’S SON
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
VI. FRIENDS AND ENEMIES
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
EPILOGUE
The Characters
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About the Author
For Cap & Hank
Previously…
Jael escaped the burning wreckage of Tuura, having kicked Gerod Gott into a fiery grave, and sailed back to Andala where she quickly prepared to leave for Oss. Oss, which was under attack by Borg Arnesson and his brothers who had joined forces with Ivaar to steal the Island throne.
That is, until Ivaar switched sides, and decided to follow Jael.
Having saved Eadmund, and killed Borg and his brothers, Jael then convinced his cousins, Erl and Rork Arnesson, to bring their Alekkans to Andala where she was planning to build a great army to attack Hest and destroy the Book of Darkness. Eadmund, concussed, confused, and still spellbound to Evaine, was reluctant to go anywhere with his wife, but, eventually, seeing the wisdom in what she was trying to do, he decided to come along.
Meanwhile, in Hest, the newly-brought-back-to-life Draguta Teros was not what anyone had imagined. She didn’t want the Darkness at all and had no plans to return Raemus from the Dolma. In fact, she ripped out the very page that described the ritual to bring him back. Draguta wanted to rule as the Queen of Osterland. To be more powerful than the gods themselves. And, after quickly turning The Following to ash, she started searching for her sister, Dara, eager to exact her long-sought-after revenge.
No one was happy about that, especially not Jaeger and Morana, who were desperate to reclaim the Book of Darkness for themselves. They each set about figuring out how to do just that, with Meena’s very reluctant help.
An urgent warning in a dream from Morana had Evaine and Morac escaping Oss’ besieged fort, sailing to Hest where Evaine was forced to wait to be reunited with Eadmund and their son. She was impatient and obsessive and oblivious to Jaeger’s interest in her until it was too late and he had her trapped, raping her.
The rest of Jaeger’s family had escaped Hest in a ship with Hanna, who had tried to steal the Book of Darkness with Berard’s help, only to have Jaeger cut off Berard’s arm and kill his father. But while at sea they were attacked by Draguta’s serpent, their ship was sunk, and Haegen was killed.
After finding their way to Andala with their helmsman Ulf’s help, they had the misfortune of having a dragon land on their cottage, killing Haegen’s wife, Irenna.
Andala’s fort was damaged, the dragon lying across the western wall, leaving them vulnerable, desperate for Jael and Aleksander to return from their journey to Hallow Wood, where they had gone to find the Widow. They had discovered her cottage on fire, but there was no sign of her anywhere. She had left them a note, though, which led them to the Book of Aurea, within which she had hidden a letter to Jael explaining how she wrote both the Book of Aurea and the prophecy. And that her sister, Draguta, was the real Widow, responsible for all those evil acts.
Eager to return to Andala with haste, Jael and Aleksander were attacked by the dragur: dead warriors that Draguta had raised from their leafy graves to kill them and steal the Book of Aurea. But as they were escaping their powerful, blue clutches, Jael heard Ayla’s warning that Thorgils was in trouble. Thorgils, who had left Andala on Gant’s horse, Gus, chasing after Eadmund who was being called to Hest by Morana. Thorgils, who had crept into Hallow Wood to confront Eadmund, only to be stabbed by his friend and left for dead.
Having tried to direct Jael to Thorgils, Ayla then collapsed, carried into the ship sheds to join Hanna – who had taken ill just before the dragon attack – and many more as the sickness took a firm hold of Andala.
And after being thwarted in her attempts to find her sister, retrieve the Book of Aurea, and kill Jael Furyck, Draguta turned her wrath on Meena, Morac, Evaine, Morana and Jaeger in one big confrontation in the hall. She tried to threaten them into drinking a potion that meant certain death for those who were disloyal to her.
Jaeger had had enough of Draguta and drew his sword, only to be flung into the air and rendered helpless. Sensing that Meena was hiding a powerful knife, Morana demanded she give it to her so she could stop Draguta from killing them all. Meena wasn’t sure she should give Morana anything, but knowing it was the knife that killed Draguta in the first place, she realised it was their only hope.
Morana was quickly attacked by Draguta, though, the knife flying away, only to be scooped up by Meena again, who gave it to Jaeger. He threw it at Draguta’s head, and Meena finished her off, making sure that she was dead.
But not for long.
Draguta disappeared without a trace, leaving Morana bedridden, unable to speak and Jaeger panicking, anxious for her to return and save him from whatever Draguta planned to do next.
Meanwhile, Jael and Aleksander were struggling towards the nearest town on two horses with an injured Thorgils; Eadmund was riding as hard as he could to be reunited with Evaine, and everyone in Andala was desperately trying to remove the dragon so they could rebuild the wall and make themselves safe again.
Because Edela had seen that the dragur would come.
And soon...
PROLOGUE
‘A boy?’
‘Yes.’
The woman looked pleased. Pleased but troubled.
‘And what will he need to do? What will you require of him?’
The man inhaled sharply, trying to keep his craggy face clear of any emotion. His white eyebrows were up; owl-like. ‘I will require nothing of him, lady. It is not I who will ask this of him. It will be his wife. She will come for the shield when it is time.’
‘His wife?’
‘Here, let me show you.’ And the man took Eskild’s arm and led her towards the back of the crypt.
Towards the round shield hanging on the stone wall.
‘This was made for him. Commissioned by th
e gods themselves. Stored here, in Esk’s house. Waiting for his son. And one day soon, you will become his mother.’
Eskild shivered. The air in the dark crypt was frigid. Or perhaps it was the unsettling words of Conall, the old volka, who had brought her to this sacred place. A wise man she had known since she was a girl. Her father’s friend. She had no reason to doubt him. ‘But my husband? What shall I tell him?’
‘Nothing. You must never reveal this secret, Eskild. They are everywhere. Those who mean us harm. Those who seek the shield. Everywhere.’ Conall glanced back through the entrance to the hidden catacombs they had walked through. The location of the shield had been a closely guarded secret for centuries, passed down from one volka to the next.
He had never revealed its presence to another soul.
Until now.
Pausing in front of the wall, he stopped and stared. The shield was larger than any he had seen; made with dark, wooden slats; edged with a thick, iron rim. A silver symbol encircled the shining boss that rose from its centre; smaller symbols engraved around the rim.
It was breathtaking, and Eskild barely blinked as she wrapped her woollen cloak around herself, feeling the chill of the crypt seep into her bones. ‘But why his wife? Why not my son?’ She finally drew her eyes away from the shield and back to Conall. ‘If he is to be Esk’s son, as you say, why will he not come for it himself?’
Conall coughed, his rheumy eyes sweeping the dirt floor. ‘Your son...’ he began, then looking up, he smiled kindly. ‘The shield is his. Made for him. But not until he is ready. You must remember what I said. There is little time for anything else. Not when your new husband is waiting to whisk you away to Oss.’ He patted her arm, stepping away from the shield.
Eskild’s soft, hazel eyes opened wide as she reached up a hand. ‘It is like new,’ she breathed, touching the strange symbols. ‘It gleams as if it were made today.’
Conall nodded. ‘It has never changed in all the years I have cared for it. This shield is powerful. Magical. And our secret alone.’
Eskild turned to him with a frown. ‘But how will I know when it is time? Time to give it to this woman?’
‘Do not worry, Eskild. When it is time, she will come for you.’
I
LOST AND FOUND
1
‘You can’t go after him.’
Jael didn’t look around, though she knew that Aleksander was right.
He patted her shoulder. ‘It will be dark soon. Let’s go to the hall, find something to eat. Astrid is with Thorgils. We can stay away a while longer.’
Harstad was a big enough village with a big enough hall that served good enough food, but it wasn’t Andala. And they needed to be in Andala. And though they needed to be in Andala, Jael very much wanted to be in Hest.
Because Hest was where Eadmund had gone.
They’d all guessed as much after what he had done to Thorgils; leaving him for dead in Hallow Wood as he had.
The sky was turning deepening shades of blue, and Jael sighed in resignation, turning to Aleksander. ‘Alright, though I’m not really hungry.’
‘You have to eat.’ He frowned at her. She had barely eaten since they’d arrived.
‘Are you Biddy now?’ Jael grumbled, turning back for one last glance over the wall. Harstad was ringed by a new wooden fence; tall, with ramparts circling the top and a small tower on either side of its new gates. The ramparts gave a fair view of the pastureland to the north and the Brekkan coast to the east; a clear view of the muddy road that would take them to Hest.
If only they could go that way.
Jael blinked, ready to fall down. Her body hadn’t stopped throbbing since the battle with the dragur. Being hit by their filthy, blue fists had felt like getting whacked by a sock full of rocks, which she knew to be true, having been whacked by a sock full of rocks once before.
By Gant.
Shaking her head at the memory, Jael followed Aleksander to the stairs, trying to resist placing her hand on her belly. It was aching again.
‘Astrid thinks Thorgils will be well enough to ride in a day or two,’ Aleksander said, navigating the wobbling stairs down into the tower room.
‘I’m not sure Gus can say the same,’ Jael grinned, gripping the railing as she followed him into the dingy room and out onto the street. ‘He still looks worn out. Every time I check on the horses, he’s lying down!’
‘Well, at least he’ll get a break on the way home. I bought that horse we were looking at this morning.’
‘Did you? What’s his name?’ Jael inhaled the fresh dump of manure a horse was busy depositing onto the road ahead of them, thinking she might vomit.
Aleksander squinted at her as he skipped around the steaming pile. ‘Rufus. Are you alright?’
Jael dropped her eyes to her swordbelt, adjusting Toothpick’s scabbard. ‘How many times have you asked me that? I’m fine. It’s Thorgils we need to worry about, not me.’ She looked up, and her face was troubled. Talking about Thorgils always led Jael straight back to her husband. Eadmund was so lost now. So far away from them, and from himself; heading for Evaine and Draguta, and whatever plans they were making for him.
‘I promise not to ask if you’re alright again if you promise to eat something. The food isn’t that bad.’ Aleksander had little appetite himself – the thought of what was happening in Andala had them both distracted and tense – but the rumblings of his stomach reminded him that though his mind wasn’t thinking about food, the rest of him certainly was.
Jael smiled wearily. ‘I could do with the peace, so alright then, let’s go and eat, though don’t leave me talking to Hedrun again. He won’t stop complaining about his taxes. Apparently, Lothar upped the rate of silver, and now Hedrun’s worried Axl will send men for him. Remove him. Or worse. He says his farmers can’t afford to pay.’ She frowned intensely, not wanting to think about Hedrun’s taxes.
‘Ha! I do remember Ranuf warning you that being a queen wasn’t going to be all battles and ring-giving.’ Aleksander stopped and stared at the hall door, newly carved with an odd pairing of long-tongued wolves and bushels of wheat. The whole village had been rebuilt after a fire had decimated most of it the previous spring. ‘Come on. Maybe we can grab something to take back to Thorgils? He didn’t look impressed with that broth Astrid was feeding him.’
Jael followed Aleksander into the hall, thinking about Thorgils.
About how they had saved him. And just in time. But then her face fell again, and she wanted to turn away from the hall and head back to the ramparts, desperate to see some sign of Eadmund. Wishing he had turned around. Come back.
Escaped the spell that had his soul bound to Evaine’s.
She patted the leather satchel that was permanently slung across her body now. The Book of Aurea was still safely tucked in there, and soon they would get it back to Andala, and Edela would find a way to save Eadmund.
The fire was struggling, but it gave off welcome heat, and Eadmund leaned into it as the darkness enclosed him. The nights were cold this far south, and he thought longingly of a soft mattress.
A bed.
It had been days since he’d slept in one of those. He’d had one once. A bed better than any other.
A wife in it too.
He thought of that bed, but he did not think of his wife.
He thought instead of Evaine and of how soon they would be together.
Closing his eyes, Eadmund could almost smell the meadowsweet scent of her hair; imagining the silky feel of it as it slid across his chest; remembering her perfect face; her lips. The fire popped, and he jumped, opening his eyes, disappointed to be alone but for his two horses. He had stopped at a farmstead and bought another horse, food, two extra water bags, a threadbare fur. And then he’d kept going.
Soon he would be in Hest.
And Evaine would be there, waiting for him.
Draguta’s thoughts were jumbled, her body weak, but anger throbbed inside her. Pulsing at her templ
es. Clenching her fists. Anger which needed a resolution. And that resolution was revenge.
As a beginning.
The perfect place to start, though there was nothing perfect about the town she had come to. It was a crumbling wreck of a place, but it was where she would begin again. And who knew where she would end up?
Perhaps back at the start? Perhaps somewhere new?
Draguta certainly felt different than she had before. Lighter. Less present, but somehow more aware. As though she existed in two places at once. As though she could see both darkness and light; slipping between the shadows that hid one world from the other.
The place the gods walked. The hidden place.
Draguta sighed, her eyes wandering the horizon. They were high up here, in a stone town with a stone tower that overlooked the Adrano, and as the sun sank towards it, the sea looked like a dark pool of blood swallowing Hest’s jagged coastline. It reminded Draguta of her own blood as it had flowed from her dying body, spreading over the flagstones, ruining her dress.